Integration cost and abolition cost.

These are two things that, in my experience, are either universally ignored completely, or universally analysed in such a way that the only numbers that ever come out are totally unrealistic best case scenario numbers.

The thing is, these two things, I’ll call them IC and AC, apply to *everything*… even wimminz.

Let’s take a really simple example, you have a 5 year old Dell laptop with an old core2duo, and you move to a newer Stinkpad with i5. Sticker price on the stinkpad is 950.

OK, now before we go down that road, let’s press pause, and look at something else as a thought experiment.

Guy has a rifle, let’s say an AR15, and 1,000 rounds of ammo.

1. Does he own the rifle, which is a treasured and loved and customised device to better throw those 1,000 rounds downrange
2. Does he own 1,000 rounds, and the rifle is the method used to get them downrange

These are, in reality, two separate tasks / jobs / approaches.

It becomes interesting when you ask a gun owner a simple question, which none of them every know off the top of their head, how many rounds do you have to fire downrange to expend the same amount of money as it costs to purchase the gun?

This isn’t a dig at gun owners, you can ask the exact same fucking question of a car owner and gallons of fuel, the question is how many units of consumables equal the capital cost of the thing.

It’s interesting, because if you can’t answer that, you don’t even have the basis for guessing at your IC and AC.

Let’s pop back to the guns, Bob buys an AR15 for 800 bucks, Jim buys one for 1,600 bucks by the time it’s tricked out…. they both buy 1,000 rounds of Winchester ammo, say a buck a pop if they 20 or 50 at a time, (say .50c a pop if they buy the whole load in one go.)

Bob = gun for $800 + ammo $1,000 = $1,800
Jim = gun for $1,600 + ammo $1,000 = $2,600

Bob sees his rifle as nothing more than a tool to get his 1,000 rounds downrange.

Jim sees his rifle as a personalised top quality yadda yadda to get his 1,000 round downrange.

Sam, says to Bob and Jim, right after they have bought their respective rifles, y’all have a budget of two grand total, now go buy ammo at a buck a pop.

Bob has 1,200 rounds

Jim has 400 rounds

———————————————————-

People used to take the piss out of me because I would quite happily pay cash and buy a car for 700 notes, they would buy the 4k car on credit, but the point of a car is you pull up to a gas pump and feed it, and since I had no outgoings for the car finance I could feed it easier, so yeah, my car got less mpg than yours, but I could afford it…. I wasn’t paying HP

UNLIKE the gun analogy, the CAR analogy there is no ammo in a specific calibre, there is just a choice of petrol or diesel, but even so, IC and AC aren’t limited to just what ya paid for it and what ya sold it for.

If you have already taken out a loan to buy the 4k car, chances are your credit is maxed out, and you wouldn’t get another loan, whereas me buying a clunker for cash, I could in theory finance a loan.

Finally, before I get back to the Dell and the Stinkpad, I want to talk about rules and laws, we all have to live by them, but there is that grey area, as with all regulations, where doing something this way is an illegal act of tax avoidance, and doing something this way is a perfectly legal act of tax avoidance, and this doesn’t just apply to taxes, it applies to all laws and to all life.

I took advantage of one such grey area, I was ahead by 125 a week, every week, week in, week out, for seven months, but I made abso-fucking-lutely sure going in that not only was I not breaking any laws, but that nobody could argue that I was… IC and AC, the implementation cost of adopting a avoiding tax strategy may be quite minimal, just a signature on a piece of paper and a postage stamp, the abolition cost of getting out of that shit and back to where you started can be incredibly fucking high, if anyone things you avoided that tax illegally.

Yeah, y’all are way ahead of me here, IC and AC as applied to marriage.

Except you’re NOT fucking way ahead of me here.

Because IC and AC applies to everything, and by the time you get to marriage you are already stood in the middle of the fucking minefield, and at THAT point you learn the true nature of IC and AC, the mines know which direction leads deeper into the minefield, they don’t trigger on anything moving that way…..

You were NOT lucky to get this far, intact. You were a dumb shit.

You just racked up a ton of IC, blind, and as for the related AC, that’s going to be a bitch. Bend over and grab those ankles. Lube? Fuck that, this is supposed to make you bleed and cry.

OK, still, with me, now we can get on with the old Dell core2duo upgrade to Stinkpad i5. This was / is a computer literate person, who is the go to guy for friends and family when they have pc probs…. this is a guy who is happy to type ipconfig /all in the winders command line and doesn’t need books or websites to prompt him to do it or to interpret the results…. and who knows all about coffer.com

THe only thing you need to know about this deal was that the guy wouldn’t be able to get the stinkpad before he got rid of the dell, which wasn’t a problem, as be bought an external usb3 portable hard disk, and not only copies all the working files and data from the software he uses most on to this disk, he also uses the rather good Windows Easy Transfer tool, which he has used dozens of times before, to create a transfer file on this hard disk.

He wipes the dell HD and installs Suse and off it goes, he sits back and waits for the stinkpad to arrive.

At this point he thinks he has his IC and AC managed.. he doesn’t, he just doesn’t know this yet…. each *thing* in your life has a separate and unique IC and AC, just like an individual company, and he has not only not realised this, he has compounded the problem by taking the AC for the dell and putting it towards the IC for the stinkpad, and in doing so he has transposed the sign, so instead of a cost for abolishing the dell he has taken the money he is getting by selling it, and offsetting that against the purchase cost of the stinkpad, and he thinks the purchase cost of the stinkpad IS the fucking IC. It isn’t.

Next morning at 8:30 am the DHL man drops off the new stinkpad, he unboxes it, it looks perfect in every way, exactly what he wanted, then the problems start, of course, he does not realise that these are really problems with IC and AC.

That evening he has called me in, for a coffee and some help.

NOTHING has gone according to plan, his problems are just starting.

The wiki page says WET doesn’t support moving from 64 bit windows to 32 bit windows, I got news for you, it doesn’t support going from 32 bit to 64 bit either.

Other shit he didn’t figure on is 4 of the applications he paid for and used daily on the dell will not continue to work on the stinkpad, because they were older 32 bit versions, and to get the 64 bit versions he has to pay to upgrade, and I am not talking 20 bucks a pop, put em together and we are at about 50% of the sticker price on the stinkpad.

Other shit he didn’t figure is one of his hardware peripherals, they don’t do updated 64 bit drivers for that kit, y’all have to buy the new kit, that’s about 50% of the sticker price of the stinkpad too.

Now, these are the headline grabbers, there is no guarantee whatsoever that if I can decompress and process the WET archive to make it 64 bit compatible there will not be other issues elsewhere.

I told him, matey, you have two real choices, we can wipe the stinkpad and put Win7 32 bit pro on there, which means you wasted all that money on the kingston RAM upgrade too, which just landed, or, you can bite the fucking bullet, I’ll patch across the WET files, and you’ll have to upgrade all this app software, and we can run the old external hardware temporarily in a VM but it will not be seamless with the rest of the OS.

Either way, you are looking at 2 or 3 hours of MY time, which you get to pay for too.

He bit the bullet, guys have this ability, he said I’ll pay you the full fucking day, do your stuff with the WET and the VM, and spend the rest of the time teaching me where I went wrong.

That was back in February this year.

He has just been in touch, his employers are moving everything into the cloud with chrome boxes, he tried to talk to them, telling them the lessons I had taught him, they didn’t listen, I said swing by my place, I’ll loan you a pair of wire cutters, you can place them over the net connection cable and look at them meaningfully… lrfh

————————————————————————

Integration cost and abolition cost.

When dealing with wimminz, treat every single penny and second you spend as a complete write off the instant you spend it, other wise you will fall into the trap of throwing good money after bad, and signing yourself up for abolition costs that you really can not afford.

You’ll be a lot less keen to buy the bitch drinks to get laid, fill your tank to go see her to get laid, buy her flowers to get laid, lend her a 20 to get laid, etc etc etc.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_cognitive_biases

 

The Necromoronicon

As Peter Cook said, jokingly, wtf made anyone think whales were intelligent, when was the last time a whale produced a top 10 song.

It got me thinking, or what passes for thinking, about that which must never be mentioned by name… *s*n*t… and in particular alt.binaries.e-books

So, just for shits and giggles, I set newsleecher to download everything from the “dailies” for the last few days, which queued up a total of just over 2,000 e-books.

Once downloaded and imported into Calibre, it was time to clean up the dupes, a few of these were mirror dupes, mainly they were the same book in different formats, anyway, when done, 1,331 unique titles left.

Now go through and select every title with a wimminz author, calibre pops up the book cover so even if the title doesn’t give the content away the cover does, click remove from library.

Down to 358 books

Go through them and see from the cover which ones are clearly written by wimminz using androgynous nom’s de plume, or men’s names, delete

161 books left

delete all the warhammer and star trek crap

122 books left

Nota Bene, these are just BROAD filters, exclusion filters, excluding only wimminz authors, and 100% of their output in fantasy sex shit, utterly opposite from an inclusion filter, such as sci-fi only, ignore everything else.

In this 122 books there is a fairly broad range, tom clancy, feynmann, a little sci fi, a couple of westerns, a couple of crime/detective ones.

But the point is from my random sample of some 2,200+ titles, we are down to 122, which represents about one half of one per cent.

eg 99.5% is chick lit crap.

Now, I’m a reader, not a writer, but let’s take DMJ’s book.

I have not read his book. No particular reason, it falls into the cluster of things I do read, so why haven’t, why, so far, has Broken Roads been that one thing NO retailer can track, the sale that was not made, the lost sale? At least as far as me as a unique potential customer goes.

Number one is I dislike the price disparity, 11 bucks for a hardcopy paperback that is printed and bound and packed and shipped and lands at my door, but 7 bucks for an electronic version that DMJ could have produced himself with Calibre, and yes I understand the vast marketing reach of amazon and resellers margins, but really? 7 fucking bucks for something that has a unit cost of maybe 0.5 cents to process and deliver electronically?

Is DMJ getting the lion’s share of this 7 bucks? I doubt it.

Is the 7/11 bucks ebook/hardcopy price break indicative, eg it costs 0.5 cents to produce and distribute an ebook, and 4 bucks to produce and distribute a paperback? I doubt it.

Number two, again, speaking personally, I got no use for poxy proprietary file formats, nowt wrong with epub, Amazon can kiss my ass with their kindle lock-in, I will either read a ebook with Calibre on my main PC or Moon reader on my Samsung Note 10.1.

Number three, I have nothing against paying for shit that I consume, you can tell from the above that I know how to get pirate copies of anything I want, and yet my PC and Android devices are littered with software and apps and data that I have paid for.

The stuff I have NOT paid for is simply because either;

1. the pirated shit simply worked better than the paid for shit
2. the shit itself is worth max maybe 1% of what the seller is demanding
3. I already paid for that shit five times over (eg music) and to this day you don’t offer that shit to me in a format I want to use
4. I just wanted to look and play, not keep and use, but you don’t offer a working demo
5. while I am happy to pay for the shit itself, your insistence that you will bundle it with a bunch of shit I do not want and not give me any option about installing it without that other shit made it a no sale
6. I’m not prepared to buy your other proprietary device or service (kindle / xbox / ps4) just so I can use this shit.

But I cannot enter into any form of negotiations with you that I could if I was dealing with you face to face over a shop counter, not because electronic trading forbids such things, but because you simply are not interested in selling anything to anyone who does not want it your way, up the ass.

Number four, market dilution, see the above where >99.5% of literary output is wimminz writing shit that frankly, if I tore the pages out and wiped my ass with them, I’d have more shit on my ass than when I started… the ONLY way I know of DMJ’s book is because *******I******* fucking found him and it in my browsing and clicking, so tell me, why should I give one red fucking cent to your marketing machine Amazon? Why should DMJ, for such a putative sale?

In fact, it is the likes of Amazon and the other publishers who diluted the fucking market in the first fucking place…. I should be able to walk into a high street bookshop and ask where the science fiction section is, and when I get there I should be able to find the hard science fiction section…. good luck with that.

If I have to trip over piles of 50 shades on the way in the shop I am not fucking going in.

I don’t mind paying DMJ to read his shit, to me it is the same as buying some beers for the guy jamming down the pub or telling a story over a fire.

I don’t see why I should have to pay Amazon for something they have not done, marketing, as far as my individual potential purchase is concerned.

That is like being in the pub anyway because you were wandering down the street and fancied a pint and spotted a likely looking watering hole, so you walk in and there is this guy jamming with a guitar, and you go up to the barman to get a drink and maybe listen to the guitar guy to see if he is any good, and some cunt in a bow tie walks up and gets in your face and demands a 5 buck entry fee before I can hear any notes guitar guy plays, hey, bow tie cunt says, I’m his fucking agent, I promote his act, fucking pay me.

end of numbers

This ain’t about DMJ or his book, this is about media, distribution, business models, etc etc etc.

When the unit cost of publishing a single book from a single author is measured in cents, or fractions of a cent, and you seek to make money by making trillions of such micro transactions, that what fucks shit up.

It was EXACTLY the same in the early days of the internet, it used to take money and effort to get online, and sure you didn’t like everything you found, but you didn’t find crap because nobody had the resources to upload crap… even when it started to take off as enough of a mainstream thing that there was now a world wide web and a web browser, and therefore potential viewers, you spent a ***LOT*** of fucking time ensuring that NO page on the website was over 50 kilobytes, and the front page better be less than 25 kilobytes, and this was for EVERYTHING, including graphics, check everything for load times over a 9.6 or 11k modem connection, and load processes, ALL the text better load first, while the gfx downloaded line by line as the images appeared like a slowly lowered blind.

The came Assholes On Line and (in the UK) Freeserve, no more cost per minute for the modem connection, and just like the chick lit, it turned to crap, world + dog had websites, contents of my desk drawer in puke technicolor and BLINK and all 230 web safe colours.

It just devalued and buried everything else.

==========================================

we live in a world where you decide to buy a coffee, si you go to starbucks / costa / wtf and who cares it all tastes like shit and the fucking cardboard cup is literally a greater cost to the shop than the coffee / milk / electric to make it.

you know how much the cost is of the chicken in a mcfuckits? 6p per portion, that’s about 10c american, eg it is the cheapest ingredient

you know what the so-called managers in high street retail food chain shops (I mean restaurants here, not walmart) spend most of their time doing? juggling staff and rotas to achieve the industry target of making wages never exceed 40% of the TOTAL costs of that particular outlet.

all of the above are factual by the way, so, back to tracking the sale that was not made for DMJ’s book, in my particular individual case, I’ll buy that fucker when TRUE values are represented, eg Amazon treats it like a loss leader, and go “Hey DMJ, we just sold another copy of your book to some guy called AfOR, here is the 5 bucks he gave us, and here is 6 bucks from us, making a total of 11 bucks for you.”

Maybe then I won’t have to download 1,000 books to find 50 that I might possibly read, it’ll be like publishing used to be, you know, in the bad old days when you walked into a bookshop and found it full of Petersen how to books and the latest Larry Niven and Clarke and Dictionaries and Thesaurus and maybe even a Gazetteer or two.

Music is already there, so is video, only video I watch now is fly on the wall shit.

Turn your speakers up. And the sub-bass… To 11

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• How to Use Calibre (literaryetc.com)

It goes deeper than that.

Someone sent me a link a few days back, some blurb on reddit about some skank who was happily in a relationshit with this guy, until one day she suggests they have an “open relationshit” so she can fuck other guys, this guy says fine, packs his shit, leaves, and blocks her in every way possible, she spends days cwyyying and trying to get him back.

Thing is, the thing *none* of the commenter’s got, though they did all correctly explain what prolly motivated the guy to bail, not that she was capable of listening and understanding, the thing is, they bought into her version of events where she just raised the subject.

Raising a subject requires forward planning, I have yet to meet a wimminz actually capable of this, but met many who know how to mimic it to fool men, but question them on the details of this alleged forward planning, and it all vanishes into a puff of thin air and an angry expression.

“We have been together 5 years now, so how about we have an open relationshit for a bit and start fucking other people?”

This, on paper, and as expressed verbally, makes it sound like forward planning… this is what she claims she said.

Since, as *I* know, wimminz are incapable of forward planning, what she was really saying was….

“We have been together 5 years now, and I am getting some extra cock, and I want your approval for this to continue.”

*UTTERLY* different, and, I suspect, the other side of the story, that we haven’t heard, from the guy in question, will include an awareness of this second, true, version.

Without exception in the swinging scene, couples into cuckolding include a wimminz who describes herself as a feminist and who quite often also described her guy as a feminist also.

Now I know that on the face of it there appears to be little in common between my assertion that wimminz are incapable of forward planning, and my observation that most wimminz in cuck couples identify themselves as feminazis, but bear with me.

Forward planning requires some sort of grip on reality, children say “I will invent something and make ten million” or when asked about lack oxygen on Mars they will “invent something to make oxygen from the martian atmosphere so men can breathe it”, which is all very well, and sometimes these things are, technically, possible on a lab scale, but to bring them up to world scale you need (to make a practical electric car) a battery no bigger than two cubic feet that will hold the energy equivalent to 75 kWh and which can be made at a rate of several thousand per day and which can be made for less than 100 bucks a pop, suddenly it doesn’t work.

Kids, though lack of knowledge and experience, lack the necessary grip on reality.

That’s why kids will invent “something”, where “something” is nothing more than a required mental bridge to get from point A to point B… it doesn’t need to have any substance or detail of its own, it is a “something”… good enough.

I see the same thing with wimminz, oh, I’m going to open a cup cake shop, I’m just off to the bank to borrow 25k to start my new “business”… so I ask questions.. such as OK the rent and light and heat and wages and shit is 500.00 a week, cup cakes won’t sell for more than 0.75 each, of which 0.25 is ingredients, so 500 / 0.50 = 1,000 which is the number of cup cakes you need to sell, every week, abso-fucking-lute minimum, just to break even, much less make a profit…. then dig into how many you can actually make in an hour on the premises with the kit you have, and how many you can actually sell, as in how long it actually takes to sell one cake, pick, wrap, ring up on till, make change, plus not all hours of opening are equal, workers morning tea break you’ll sell more per hour than the last hour before you close…

So, you have to sell 52,000 cup cakes a year to break even, 75, 000 a year to pay off your start up loan in 3 years, and 100,000 a year or 2,000 a week to pay yourself a wage good enough to give you the lifestyle you aspire to.

2,000 a week is 400 a day, which is (if you are open 8 hours) 50 an hour, which is one every 72 seconds, and it takes 120 seconds to pick, wrap, ring up and make change…. so basically your dream is unattainable even under ideal theoretical circumstances.

At which point **I** become the enemy.

I haven’t done anything, except invoke reality.

It is this inability to grasp reality that lies behind wimminz inability to do any genuine form of forward planning, and this same inability to grasp reality that lies behind wimminz in cuck relationshits claiming everything in the garden is both happy and healthy and perfectly normal and sustainable, thank you very much.

When, instead of approaching things as they are marketed, you take the “open other end” approach, and START from the premise / observation / assumption that wimminz suffer from an innate inability to grasp reality as a part of the thought process, things suddenly start to look very different indeed, and you yourself become open to the idea that THIS idea has ramifications and consequences that reach much further than you first assumed, and go much deeper than you first assumed.

It goes deeper than that.

If wimminz suffer from an innate inability to grasp reality as part of the thought process, then *NO* thought that wimminz have can be trusted in any subject matter dealing in any way with reality.

Want someone to write a fantasy book about vampires with 10″ cocks? No problem.

Want someone to make practical financial or business decisions? Run the fuck away.

Recent EU directives that 40% of all board room positions must go to wimminz make entirely as much sense as a directive that a further 40% of all board room positions go to children under the age of 8.

Which makes you ***really*** pause and consider, when you look at a cuck husband, this is a creature that has elected to subjugate himself before a child…. not with caveats or exceptions or a veto, but absolute submission.

Now that we have established our scorn of cuck males…. I have to tell you, married males are no better, just removing the sexual aspect from the table doesn’t make everything else THAT much better, they still have a child making 99% of their decisions for them.

Which brings into sharp relief a memory I have of many years ago now, being sat in my brother’s house one morning, with one child, his then wife, asking the other children what they wanted for breakfast, like the children were adult patrons of a restaurant, and of course the three children chose three separate meals, and only one stuck with their first choice, two changed their mind after their first order was accepted.

it goes much deeper than that….

WIFE = Washing, Ironing, Fucking, etc

I have said to many people, and many wimminz, that a relationship is very, very, very much like a job.

There is an interview process, there is a trial period, and then there is the employment period, with benefits, but at no time can you just decide to goof off and get a free ride without getting your ass canned.

But the fact is that it cuts both ways, wimminz aren’t just shit at relationshits, they are shit as employees too…. but sadly, so are many men…

Today for my sins I took my car in for some new tyres, for one reason and another to do with leasing you have to go to certain suppliers for certain things, and you aren’t allowed to do anything yourself, not even change a blown bulb, but the flipside is “just do it” no matter what and no worries about the munnay…

So, a small tyres / brakes / service place, you could get 4 vehicles inside, and 5 employees, all guys, and frankly they were a shower of shit, wandering around, sat there chatting to each other (and I don’t mean chatting while working, I mean sat there with a pneumatic wrench in hand talking to another guy sat on one of my wheels) working at a speed like they have never done this before….. my car, 4 new tyres, another car, up on ramp, new track rod and bushes, third car, brake test and service….  I was there a fucking hour and a quarter.

Cunts *deserve* to go bust, and I know why the leasing company just moved over to this chain, they are fucking “cheap”, not cheap as in cheap, but cheap as in cheaper than the other fuckers that used to have the contract.

I’m sure a large part of that “cheap” is because the staff are all on sweet fuck all money per hour, but even so, you can do the job the way I do mine, get stuck in and do it properly and look like a professional, and then sit back and chill once the customer has pulled out…

Me, I’m a captive customer, I got no choice but to go there, but others…. while I am there cooling my heels (hey, fuck it, I’m on the clock so it’s not like it’s *my* time they are wasting) guy comes in and asks how much to do a clutch on his 6 year old Citroen…

Oooh, sucks teeth, looks at book, book says 5 hours @ 50 quid an hour, checks clutch price, ok sir that will be 370 notes, eg 120 for the clutch kit, that ain’t including the tax of course, which is 20% on top of that… so they want to charge this cunt 370 + 74 = 444 quid to do a fucking clutch…  OK, it’s a Citroen and OK it is front wheel drive, but even so…. if you are a local municipal bus driver and do all the overtime available you can pull in 18k gross, 18,000 / 52 = 346, that’s before tax, so even if you are married and get mortgage relief and shit your take-home is going to be under 300, so these fuckers want 1.5 weeks take home for 5 hours work…

Check GSF car parts and the clutch kit is 64 notes…. RETAIL… not trade..

As for the 5 hours on the ramp in an equipped garage with 5 employees, I know a guy who did his on his fucking driveway by himself in 5 hours with nothing more than hand tools, a trolley jack and a couple of axle stands… and that included making a clutch centre tool out of some copper pipe…

These are the same cunts that took (30 minutes was phone calls and paperwork and authorisation) 45 minutes to swap out 4 tyres… with TWO of the cunts on the job, so 1.5 hours labour right there… ok, “free fitting” so the labour wasn’t technically charged, but 1.5 man hours were used and they were actually working faster than the cunt doing the track rod, because I was watching them…..

When I turned up the track rod car was up on the ramp with the wheel off, when I left it was still there, and they guy was still fucking around and talking and wandering away and back and hadn’t *quite* managed to drop the old bushes and track rod… I suspect that was his job for the entire day.

The main dealers who do all the rest of the work, well, they are fucking expensive, but at least they don’t fuck around and get on with shit, but again the spend a *lot*of time on bullshit CYA “quality control” everything countersigned off bullshit, or basically “hunting for work” e.g. going over the fucking bodywork with a UV lamp looking for paint and body defects… (a UV lamp will show shit you just won’t see with the naked eye in the average English weather day…) with the result that a service will set you back just under 300 notes…

Back when I was a lad, a “full service” was a full man-day on the car, it wasn’t just fluids and filters and a brake check, two guys would spend all morning or all afternoon going over the bitch and doing maintenance and touch up work.

When they finished you’d get billed for the bigger shit, like brake friction material, but nobody itemised shit like grease used greasing the doors or track rod ends, that was just consumables shit…. the tyre bill included itemised amounts for valves and balancing… which went on top of the tyre price…

Labour is “free” but the mechanic took a dump and had a cuppa so one teabag and 12 squares of toilet paper are itemised and added to the bill….  and the QA guy has to sign to say the mechanic wiped his ass properly and slurped his tea according to procedure.

Meanwhile they have to make a call to Mumbai and spend 20 minutes in a queue to get authorisation to issue the mechanic 3 ply bog roll and not the cheap 2 ply stuff that the leasing company specified in their 6,497 page procedure manual which you have to adhere to in order to be a “channel partner” or whatever this week’s buzzword is.

Wimminz of course *love* this shit, because no matter what you can just shrug your shoulders and say how awful it is, but it ain’t my fault y’see…..  and get back to the gossip… no ACTUAL FUCKING WORK being done.

In the same town there are a couple of old boys who run their own tyre place… I could have been in and out of there in 20 minutes, literally…. which is why with my own vehicle I patronise places like them, and my “pet” mechanic, who would have passed on the citroen clutch kit at cost and “call it 200 quid” for labour, and you can give me half now and half next week if you like, and he would have lined that fucking clutch up to better than a thou, and cleaned and dressed up ALL the threads and fasteners, and everything else, while he was in there….. every time I took a French front wheel drive car to him I always told him to fit a heavy duty clutch, parts were only 30% more but it would be the last one you ever fitted…

It’s the fucking work ethic, that’s what I am on about here, that is what we are missing.

I’m a procrastinating mother-fucker, but when I eventually get around to doing a job for myself, I do it fucking properly…. today I was on my hands and knees washing my fucking fake laminate kitchen flooring by hand, then I did the inside of the fridge and shelves, then I washed down the tops of all the skirting boards, wiped the tops of the internal doors and lintels, then I did the front door inside and out, and the window sills etc outside, and I don’t know ANY fucking wimminz who will do that.

Not even when moving out and wanting to keep the fucking deposit…

And no, I am not some OCD cleanliness freak mofo, I’ll only do this shit once every two or three months, but it WILL get done now and again.

The joke about WIFE = washing, ironing, fucking, etc… well, good luck to you with a modern wimminz…

Washing is something they will do under protest, once YOU have bought them a fucking washing machine and tumble dryer, and don’t get me started on that shit about men don’t know how to use a washing machine, in my lifetime I never met a man who had any issues with them, on the other hand every wimminz I ever met uses one of two programs, either mixed coloureds at 40 degrees for everything, or delicates for her own personal expensive clothes, that’s it.

Ironing, you must be fucking kidding, wimminz know better than men you take something out of the tuble dryer still warm and you can put it away without ironing it… I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of wimminz I know who know how to iron a shirt and a pair of pants, some of the rest of them can iron a hanky…. just about.

Fucking, well, no need to go into this… she’ll fuck anything except hubby

Etc, like make me a sammich bitch, rub my shoulders, feed me, make the fucking bed in the morning when you get up, you must be kidding me…

Basically if you want to know what it is like to live with a modern wife, just move into some student digs, take the door off *your* room so *you* have no privacy, and put them all as named persons on your bank account and plastic…. and stay there for life* and keep paying for life… (*even after they evict your sorry ass.)

Actually, it won’t be *that* good, at least students get to get shit-faced and laid now and again…

So there I am visiting one such unfortunate, and we are trying to have a conversation at the kitchen table, because the kids have taken over the lounge and telly and everything else he paid for, meanwhile the “wife” is complaining the Tassimo machine isn’t as good as her friends new AEG (which uses the same *fucking* expensive per cup pods) and then their little 4 year old daughter wanders in, sits on a vacant chair next to us, lifts her dress, spreads her legs, spreads her cunt with her fingers and starts exploring…. to which the wife says “leave your bottom alone darling”

I laugh loudly and say to my mate/the father, “that ain’t her fucking bottom…” he just looks pained, one of those I know dude, but what the fuck can I do, looks…

To which the wife (who basically doesn’t like me, she has many reasons, some of them my be true, but mainly I suspect hubby just ain’t allowed visitors in prison) starts telling me off for swearing in front of children.

I look at her and say “You have a 4 year old daughter flashing her cunt to guys in the kitchen and you are concerned about the language one of the guys are using… that is an interesting set of priorities you have there.”

I’m waiting for the “how dare you tell me how to raise my kids” tirade, I’m up for that one (some cunt needs to) but it doesn’t come, instead she decides that hubby needs to take some generic groceries to *her* mum and dad’s place, RIGHT FUCKING NOW, because without the milk and sugar in the package she is making up they will die, pronto….

I say “whatever dude, I’m out of here so I shall leave you to your weekend of domestic bliss….. cya”

Every time I visit there, which ain’t that often, I have the same thought, I wonder what she would do if I wait till hubby is out the room and grab some tit and ass, not because she is hot, just to see what she would do, I suspect that is partly why she hates me, because she wouldn’t object and yet I don’t do it… but that thought always triggers the follow on thought, if he isn’t fucking her enough, why should I do his job for him.

See, he is a sometime co-worker, and when we are on site together I refuse ro do his work for him, but, I also make sure there is clear and documented demarcation between what he touches, and what I touch, because his work is frankly crap.

It’s a chicken / egg question as to whether his work is crap because he always has so much domestic shit on his mind, or because he has no work ethic he cannot manage his work or private life effectively.

I got no skin in that game, so I don’t care, I just keep certain boundaries enforced, while trying to be a bit of a mate, because despite it all he is basically a nice guy with little or no malice in him, who always *tries* to do the right thing.

The big difference between me and him, that moment with his (? lol) daughter playing with her “bottom”, he didn’t see what I saw, which was a slow burning fuse leading to an ammo dump hidden in the basement…. and a “wife” playing with a zippo ensuring that pretty little Barbie fuse sparkler stayed alight.

 

I’ll buy that for a dollar….

Of course it’s the line from Robocop, I fucking dread to think what the reboot will be like, the old movies were very tongue in cheek and slightly anarchic, having seen the trailer for the new one, it seems to be little more than an cgi explosion orgasm, with no doubt a few strong leading wimminz thrown in.

The point is though, the bald guy with glasses with a skank ho on each arm uttering that line in the film, yup, at 50c each they were “worth it”.

Winter is coming and I just bought another quartz electric fire for the kitchen in the mornings, I put in on for 30/45 minutes when I get up and before I go to work,  I buy one every year because without fail at least one of the bars dies every year, and at around 20 bucks a pop they are essentially a disposable item, not something you would ever trust to leave on and walk away.

At 20 bucks a pop, they are “worth it”, same as the two skanks above, not because it is great value for money, but because it is cheap enough there is no hesitation or pain involved when it comes time to throw it in the trash.

Basically, there are three ways to meet wimminz;

1. Directly in real life
2. Virtually on-line
3. Via the agency or actions of others

and each of those can be subdivided;

1. Directly in real life
   1. Socially at a pub
   2. At work
   3. Randomly when shopping etc
2. Virtually on-line
   1. pay per sites
   2. free sites
3. Via the agency or actions of others
   1. set up dates by matchmaking friends
   2. invitations to events such as weddings

I have colour coded these, red text is never ever fucking do it, it always has the potential to cost you a LOT of money, purple is danger will robinson, your judgement is affected and you are spending money, green is I’ll buy that for a dollar.

Which brings us to several important points.

• If you are looking for something, you may as well set your stall out and state exactly what you are looking for, and exactly what you offer in exchange.
• If you treat making a sale, any sale, as a greater priority than making the exact sale you want, then, by definition, you are not going to be happy with the sale, so, by definition, you are deliberately setting yourself up for disappointment and dissatisfaction.
• If you allow others to “haggle” you to a difference price, then you are in the same boat as above.
• If you are quite content to sit there every day reading a book, and not making any sales or getting any kind of interest, you are golden.

Which brings us back to the various methods by which you can meet wimminz, the red text methods are all ways in which you are guaranteed to NOT be able to just set out your stall and sit back and chill.

The red text methods are all market trader methods, doing whatever it takes to make a sale.

Red Pill is a LIFESTYLE choice mother-fucker, if you are allowing mates to set you up on blind dates, if you are allowing wimminz at work to flirt with you, if you are paying agencies such as websites to get you in contact with wimminz, then you are not red pill, you are a blue pill niggerz.

Time to fucking man up bitch.

Stop investing ANYTHING of yourself or your time or your emotions or your money, over a dollar, on wimminz.

The purple text, well, it depends where you go, the pub I go to, when I go to a pub which isn’t that often any more (I used to practically live in the bastards, there at opening time and still there at chucking out, 7 days a week) is a red pill pub, chances are there will be not much more than a dozen guys there, all mature, all doing their own thing, no fucking wimminz, not even behind the bar. Red Pill.

If I went across the road to the student pub, which is heaving, it would be Blue Pill. Because I am making a conscious choice to occupy the same room as a bunch of skank ho entitlement pwincesses.

———————————————————–

Sure, lots of the “buy that for a dollar” wimminz I talk to flake and fade away, and what have I lost? So I don’t get a fuck I was never going to get, or I do get a fuck with crazy, there is no mileage whatsoever in thinking maybe if I message her, if the bitch was into you she will message you, if she does not message you she is not into you, and you messaging her ain’t gonna change that.

What it WILL fucking change is you, it makes you a market trader, desperate for a sale, a pussy begging mangina niggerz mother-fucker…. because you just invested more than that thing was ever worth, and not a guaranteed buy and get, but to con yourself you are still in the game.

Back in the 70’s I knew a couple of guys who used to travel around all the pubs and hotels doing auctions, they would promo it for 24 hours prior, do the auction, and literally skit to the next town and start the 24 hour promo.

They sold pens, they used to buy them for 50 pence and sell then for 4 pounds and 50 pence, a 900% markup making 4 quid profit.

If you went to their auctions, you would never ever know or realise they were selling pens, because they had a bunch of quite good stuff, surplus stock, all going cheap, cheap because it was surplus and not much markup, and it consisted of anything they could get. So you get ghetto blasters and stuff brand new for 49 quid instead of 110 and shit like that…

You get 100 people at a pub auction, and maybe 20 high value items going cheap, you’ll sell maybe 10 or 12 of them.

The stick was, the auction starter, he would go into the sales spiel, describe some of the high value items coming up, all genuinely quite tempting stuff, and then he would hit them with it, so I know you are all genuine buyer I am offering these fine quality metal cartridge ball point pens each one worth 9.99 at just 4.50 a pop, and only those who can bid by waving  one of these pens at me can bid on these other luxury items and fantastic prices.

He’d sell 50 pens in the next 5 minutes…

He’d sell more pens in a day than a large stationers would sell in a week.

Bait and switch.

He’d never say he sold pens, or a bait and switch low ball cognitive dissonance merchant, he’d say he was an entrepreneur pulling in over a grand a week.

Same way blue bill mangina niggerz will never admit to being such a thing, they will tell you how many bitches they have on the go, and bear in mind, the pen guy was one of the few smart enough and hard working enough to actually pull it off.

Sure, he made a lot more than a dollar, but he invested a lot more than a dollar, way too much to walk away from with the casual disregard you will walk away from a half full dollar cup of coffee, and not give a second thought ever again to the half a cup of coffee left, or the 50c it cost you.

So the thing to do is avoid, completely, like the plague, all those things in red text, just don’t turn up for it, enforce it with your total absence from the game.

And the green text stuff, if it involves anything of any value from you, don’t do it.

How the fuck can you sit home alone in your man cave you fucking techno hermit, is the response, because the blue pill says alone = lonely and saddo, and the blue pill says you have to go out and meet wimminz to get any cunt, and the blue pill says a lot of other shit.

And it is like the punters at the pen sellers auction, they all think they are being smart and clever and are watching out for all the expected tricks on the high value items coming up, and none of them notices that every single one of them just got taken.

Shop like a man, whether it is groceries or cunt, go in with a list stating exactly what you want, look at and for nothing else, put that and nothing else in the trolley, and accept no substitutions or BOGOF deals of any kind, pay up, GTFO.

I go to one wal mart sized outlet near me, I buy the packs of 24 bog rolls if the price is right, and I buy the 1 Kg instant coffee tubs if the price is right, and I buy the proper coffee packets if the price is right, so sometimes I’ll buy one of those things, or two, or all three… sometimes I’ll walk out empty, and I never buy anything else…. I don’t go there very often, I don’t have to, I am a single man and I have 2 x 24 sealed packs of bog rolls stashed in the bathroom… cos they were a deal at 50c a roll.

I’ll buy that for a dollar.

So… last night….

…it all kicks off at the neighbours, I knew it would because he came home and was screaming into the phone to various people about where was his woman.

So she eventually turns up, they get into a shouting match, he accused her of fucking Tom, you lying fucking bitch, you promised, we were going to try again.

I’m possibly the only neighbour who didn’t ring da po-lice, because I knew how it would go down, nor did I knock on their door and clue the guy in, because he was blue pill central.

So officer dibble and his mate turn up, handcuff the guy for DV, he bleats that he loooves her, she says she never cheated on him and she is leaving (of COURSE she is gonna say this in front of third persons, eg plod) he gets carted off to Babylon.

Today she turns up with some mates, plenty of laughter and joking and light airy voices, you’d never guess the man she loved was in custody instead of at work, watching his life go down the crapper, some of the girl friends leave, leaving just her and one guy, and they are now fucking.

I wonder if he is Tom, or yet another white knight in her retinue.

Meanwhile matey is probably sobbing in his cell, wondering where the woman he loves so much is… lmfao.

You think the red pill is tough, it’s a lubed up finger compared the the cactus suppository that is the blue pill.

 

25 years

=============

=============

Take a look at the two pictures above, and tell me what the connection is.

Sussed it? No?

It’s the same bitch with a bit over 25 years in between, in the latter pic she is 45 years old, in the former around 19 and a Playboy and page 3 model.

Now I can’t claim to have been a male model when I was in my late teens, mostly I looked like shit, long hair, patchwork leathers, 135 film cans stuffed with grass / speed / acid, and some sort of illegal motorsickle to hand, but now in my fifties all the Viagra in a pfizer warehouse couldn’t get me hard enough to fuck the creature she has become.

Not that I have aged badly, but I didn’t suddenly turn into Paul Newman in my mid forties either, I guess I still look like shit, most of the hair is gone and what’s left is #1 cut and highlighted with grey, the motorsickle is now a legal item, and the beat goes on.

But I still wouldn’t fuck this skank.

So she was more fuckable than me, now she is less fuckable than me, ergo her fuckability, has fallen all the faster because she used to be say an 8, than if she used to be a 5 or less, and either way it has fallen faster and further than it has for men on average.

Whatever power you might have when you look like the young Pepper in the first pic, 25 years later when you look like Pepper today, your opening gambit had better be an expression of how much you want to stick your tongue up my ass, and in a beauty contest between my ass and her face, my ass would still win…

I shit you not…

Months now seem to go past as quickly as weeks used to back when I was a boy, this is logical and inevitable, but nevertheless the view looking back is different from anything you can theorise as a young lad.

I knew the flower of youth was brief, but I never knew just how fucking brief and fleeting it was, especially for the wimminz, that and the purity of virginity and a fertile womb, you know what, I’ve plowed that furrow first, and it ain’t all that, but it is all the wimminz had, and they pissed even that pittance away.

Fact is the old dowry system where you basically had to bribe a man to take your daughter off your hands, that was only half the trick jack, the other half was once she took you name her family burned those bridges behind her, it really was for better or for fucking worse, unto death.

Because that was the only way to keep the bitches in line, for their own fucking good, take a look at those pictures again, the hot sex kitten vanished 20 years ago, the last 15 years she better have been storing up credits raising the kids, the last 5 raising the grandkids, cos without that credit you get what you see, all liability, absolutely fuck all to offer, and from here on in it gets worse every day.

Wimminz as chattels, the most evil nadir of the patriarchy, apparently, the view looking back from your fifties is different, it was the greatest kindness we ever did the useless fucks… far better than they deserved, for their own good.

And guess what, it was organised and maintained by the women of the day.

As I sit her and type this, in the last 24 hours I have one 26 year old, one 35 year old, one 38 year old, and one 42 year old wimminz, all of whom want to submit to me, a man in my 50’s, totally, sexually, and a couple of others who want to submit partially, or so they say.

Which one is winning the race? The one with the youngest flesh, the prettiest face, the biggest tits?

No, the one who doesn’t just want to submit sexually, who doesn’t even have to be told to use any spare moments worshipping my cock or with her tongue up my ass in preference to talking, the one who wants me to own her totally, the one who says she has nothing to offer me but herself, little as that is.

The one, in short, with the strongest grip on reality.

Young men, NOTHING that ages as badly and as quickly as wimminz do is worthy of your worship or adoration, nothing that ages this badly and quickly is pure, or healthy, nothing that ages this badly or quickly is capable of anything that lasts longer than the fleeting changes that ravage them.

==============================================================

If the ideal age for a wimminz is half the man’s age plus seven, then that is a moving target, you have to get a new wimminz every two years.

This isn’t a bad thing, if you want a relationshit longer than that, get a fucking dog…

Course, if you started choosing dogs on how hard they made your cock throb, you’d have the same fucking issues, so start choosing wimminz by the same criteria you choose a dog.

By that yardstick the bitch above who has the strongest grip on reality and wants me to own her is the clear winner, and some of the others have better attributes, physically, but it is no coincidence that this one will rather spend three hours using her mouth on my balls / cock / ass than talking, and no, this doesn’t make her NAWALT.

She is AWALT, she is just a bit less addicted to delusions of pedestal pwincess status than her sisters, which is just because she fucked up harder and faster and got to face some of the consequences faster than her sisters.

She is still a liability to any man, but she knows it, and is prepared to earn her daily keep sexually, and by feeding me, keeping the coffee coming, and doing domestic shit.

The value of the dog is he knows his place, once he loses that he loses all value, and this bitch is the same, the only value she has is she knows her place.

I wouldn’t kick her out of bed to fuck the 26 year old with the pretty face and porn slut body, I wouldn’t have to, threesome it is and then kick the 26 year old out of the bed.

25 years pass, if looks are all you have you are fucked, if “a way of life” (to nick the biker ethos, AWOL) is all you have it improves with age and practice, I have this shit down cold and smooooooth, practice makes perfect.

A one time gift of minimal value due to constantly refreshing supply like youth and virginity and fertility and beauty, that’s a one shot game with a fucking short half life.

Fuck being a wimminz.

Things are tough all over

as Cheech & Chong said.

I’m hearing the same shit from lots of different people in lots of different jobs, the bosses are talking about shortages of money, and the result is heaping more workload on the workers, sometimes for less money, never for more.

And you just know things are bad when even the desperate will simply quit rather than submit to ever greater levels of bullshit for ever less take-home from the boss.

Some are self employed courier drivers, (e.g. all courier drivers in 2013 UK) getting to the point where far from making any money, it is a case of subsidising the employer… some are still just on the government tit, looking to bail into the private sector and getting scared shitless because what jobs there are are offering maybe 60% of the government tit job wage, and they all “cannot possibly survive on 150 a week less”.

It may not be a Perfect Storm, it may not be a Great Depression, but it is the ingredients for both, and some other things besides…

I did a call today, putting a new router into a rural site which has just had an EFM circuit installed, all the employees and the MD were wimminz, and not a hot one amongst em, and they were all working in a traditionally male field, shall we say “construction”, in the project management sense, and since construction includes services, such as data services…..

I can’t show you the pictures, it would identify them, but the 8U cab was just slung on the floor on the corner (no forced or a/c cooling of any kind, no mains regulation or UPS of any kind), nearly buried by masses of cables, mains cables, USB cables, CAT5 cables, it was, frankly, a fucking disgrace.

On top of this was thrown the EFM box and cables, to which I was supposed to attach the new router… so when I turn up I get the “You’re just plugging something in, right?” spiel from the wimminz MD.

“Depends if you want it to actually work or not” is my reply… puzzled frown from the MD…

It reminded me of yesterday in a big supermarket chain, access to the rear of the racks completely blocked off by a wall of filing cabinets, one of those dumps where there are no employees or staff, just colleagues, and invariably 50% of them are useless obese wimminz, I pondered saying something but wanted to get the job done and get out of there so fuck it, just dragged one filing cabinet out of the way and left it blocking the wall so I could get access.

30 minutes later some skank walks up with the “excuse me” shit, “i need to get into that filing cabinet” she says, gesturing at one of the ones blocked in by the one I pulled out of the way.

“Go ahead” I say “just don’t block my access to the rear of the rack”

“I can’t move it” she says “I have a bad back”

I just shrugged and looked at her, fuck it, I had eaten two Nurofen not an hour earlier, having pulled a muscle in my lower back by lifting something stupidly, unlike her, I was actually waddling / limping.

So a guy who if he makes a mistake takes the whole site hard down is, in her eyes, expected to drop all that shit he is paid to do and help her lardy fugly ass out… good luck with that shit bitch.

Next job that day is another supermarket, I put them onto the new EFM circuit and new routers, and call one of the managers, another wimminz, in to run several checks from the tills to make sure everything is working, with their sales HQ on speakerphone, bitch prevaricates and makes a point of doing other shit at the same time, I tell speakerphone bitch in sales HQ that she has not made a friend there, she asks who, you or me, I say you, you should see the face on your manager…. perhaps it was my fault for neglecting to tell the manager bitch that the woman who wanted to talk to her on speakerphone was actually several rungs above her in her own company…lol

It is all entitled people, coming face to face with a situation where their constantly escalating entitlements are no longer escalating, and boy, they don’t like it one fucking bit.

When I say they don’t like it one fucking bit, that isn’t even scratching the surface of the resentment and frustration self evidently building.

Place I work for lots of people are bailing, they take the attitude they now have all their Cisco certs, I can get an offer or more money elsewhere, yeah, you can, short term, but this company has all the work, and is still getting more, and if you were half as smart as you think you are you would have played it like me from day one, being paid quite a lot less money, but for vastly less work and hassle.

It’s nearly the end of the month and travelling aside, I have done 18 jobs, most of which took an hour or less, a few of which ran to the full 2 hours allotted… when you consider some days I did 2 or even 3 separate jobs, you’re looking at basically every other day off sat at home being paid.

Of resentment and frustration I have none, I fucking *love* my job, and as a result my work is 100%, and HQ always find me pleasant and enjoyable to deal with, so they treat me pleasantly and enjoyably in return.

I also occupy the one role the company absolutely cannot cut back on, the guy who physically goes to site and liaises with the end user and service provider to do actual installs, fault find, changeovers etc.

I am also a generalist, not a specialist, no point sending a high flying every Cisco and MS certificate going type at 95% of the jobs I go to, not because the job is beneath them, but because they can’t do them, CCNx up the wazoo types don’t walk on site and FIRST check all the basics, oh yes, the site is down because some doofus moved the DSL cable into the wrong PSTN socket, or the power switch has been turned off, or the power brick died, or they can’t swap a mainboard in a server, or they can’t diagnose a thermal loading issue, and so on…..

Neurosurgeons are wonderful people, but multiskilled and experienced field medics never go out of fashion.

It was the same back in my proper engineering days, I wasn’t always getting work because I was so good at any one thing, but because there was almost no thing that I did not at least know something about, and in reality all jobs go better when you have someone on hand who knows a little about everything, and a fair bit about a lot, and a lot about a few things… on the rare occasions he has to talk to or call in someone else, they love him, because he gives them the straight shit every time.

So yeah, things are tough all over, and getting tougher, but speaking purely personally, life is goooood baby, I am as happy as a dog with two dicks, simply because I never bought into the paradigm that is now crumbling before our very eyes.

 

OK Wimminz, here is the truth

Because so many of you have been asking for it lately.

But before I get into that, this is why you won’t understand.

“You dint ax me if he wuz racis”

Yeah, we all know who and what I am talking about, the 400lb fridge gorilla cum star persecution witness in the Zimmerman trial. You just know doritos packets are easy to open because if it required an IQ in double digits to stuff your face that bitch would be thinner than a fucking fishing line.

But we are treated to this bitch who cannot even speak her own native tongue with the fluency of a 4 year old, axplanin’ to y’all the differences between nigga and nigger, and cracka and bein racis…

Sure, my shit here is full of typoes and spoonewisms and autokorrect erros and a million other glitches, cos I don’t proof read, I am a two finger poke and hope typist who has to look at the keyboard to type, and once that shit is typed I ain’t about to go over it like I was writing the fucking Constitution.

Nevertheless, I can speak and comprehend the English language with a very high degree of familiarity and competency and fluency.

I know the difference between an analogy and an adequate explanation.

Pointing out that used cars with their best 20+ years long gone in the rear view mirror do not command 4 digit sale prices, even thought that same car cost 49k when it was new, and that was when 49k would buy you a fucking house, and then making an analogy between this and virgin teen cunt vs skank ho used cunt 20+ years later is just that, an analogy.

By definition it leaves out more than it includes.

To wimminz, who do not understand language, or the importance of words or meaning or communication, who do not see them as the binocular vision and upright bipedal stance and opposable thumbs of nature, it is the end of the line, all change.

Fresh teen virgin cunt, and I know of what I speak, having first hand experience of deflowering intact hymens that could barely pass a little finger prior to my arrival, vs skank ho cock carousel cunt, if you try to run that car analogy in reverse it falls flat on it’s face.

A car with 2 previous owners and 50k on the clock is not twice as valuable as the same car with 4 previous owners and 100k on the clock…. a *huge* fucking chunk of the depreciation happened when the first owner first turned the key, even just six months later with the same owner and only 5k on the clock, essentially all the original value has been lost.

But even then, even in the showroom with no previous owners and 4.7 miles on the clock, not all new cars are the same, because the factory and workers and model are analogous (there we go with analogies again) to the family and home that raised the young teen virgin debutante.

Obama is right, he coulda fucking been Trayvon, and that car would be a backstreet no name “welcome to our factory” car, 5 cents and you can buy the whole week’s worth of production…. and you would still have lost out on the deal.

=======================================

But politicians / wimminz / niggerz are all unable to master language, so like all bad tradesmen they use the tools they have to do the job, adjustable wrenches and mole grips instead of spanners and sockets, and lo and behold you get rounded nuts that are never torqued correctly ever again, which leads to damaged threads, etc etc etc

And so telling wimminz the truth is like pearls before swine.

On fucking sites (not just an expletive, I am referring to websites where people hook up and fuck) da wimminz just love all those verifications and testimonies, so do I, if anywhere in these extensive lists is someone I consider unfuckable, then since you fucked them I consider you unfuckable too .. I have mentioned this previously, there being sub groups or classes of people within the scene, search for “sperm brothers”

it is simple male logic.

1. “X” is a worthless cunt
2. you associate with X
3. ergo, you are also a worthless cunt
4. I don’t want X anywhere near my life, therefore I don’t want you anywhere near my life either
5. check please…

Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas.

But, since this blog is for men, and those rare wimminz with an intellect, the following 1,000 words are those truths for wimminz, but translated BACK into English, so that men may see it, and understand the wimminz perspective somewhat better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…

crickets

Related articles

• I want to fuck your friend. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
• Grapes, sultanas, raisins and currants. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
• “my son’s cock” & sperm brothers (wimminz.wordpress.com)

Slutz for rent… cheeeeep…

First of all we had better get the NAWALT thing outta da way…  if you hadn’t met her on a fucking site you would not have known she had fucked 30 guys 5 couples and 2 wimminz over the past year, some of them repeats.

Just cos you did not know this, does not mean it didn’t happen.

“Ignorance is bliss“?

I doubt it, shit that you don’t know is in my experience just deferred pain.

So, AWALT.

Now you got two choices, you can go ghost, or when life hands you lemons you can make lemonade.

Me, I choose to make lemonade.

The problem is for the 99.9% of guys who get handed lemons and try to “improve” it and make champagne, I’m reminded of the line from Christine, “Boy, ya can’t polish a turd.” and boy does this ever apply to wimminz, all wimminz, no exceptions…

You get handed a slut the only change you can make, and it is temporary, but worthwhile, is to change her from being “a slut” to being “your slut”, that has some utility, until the point where it forgets its station in life, and that is kerb time.

There is a thing in life called EROI, energy returned on investment, and it applies to everything.

If you expend a 1,000 bucks worth of diesel and maintenance and fertiliser and seeds to farm and grow 500 bucks worth of food, you just lost, sooner or later you are going to starve.

If you expend 1,000 kWh of oil energy to pull 750 kWh energy worth of oil out of the ground, you just lost, if someone hands you 1,000 kWh of hydro power that only cost 250 kWh to build and maintain then you just broke even.

Taking the day off and firing up the twin big blocks in your classic 35 foot cigarette boat and going out for the day turning 100 octane into salt spray, noise, shits and grins, is lose lose lose, so you better have made profits in other areas of your life in order to be able to do that “non essential to survival” thing.

Being handed a filthy whore therefore only becomes a problem when you start making an investment of your time or energy or money to improve her, you will always end up in negative EROI.

Imagine spending your life teaching people how to fish for food, in the hope that once they learn they will go fishing with you and lighten your load, and all they all do without exception is immediately go somewhere else and start plying their trade as fishermen…. probably in competition with you.

This is the inevitable result of investing your time or effort into a slut.

So, “Hey AfOR, where do you find all these sluts willing to drive two hours to your place just so they can stick their tongue up your ass and reaffirm their zero net worth in both your eyes and theirs?”

in a Mr T accent, Look around you sucker.

Same place I find these 500 dollar cars that I run for 3 years with no maintenance, right under your fuckin’ noses, I see em for what they are, you however treat them all as fixer uppers and a week later have blown 500 on a stereo, 500 on paint and 500 on wheels, suddenly you have a 2,000 dollar car that looks like a 200 dollar car, and every flaw screams out at you.

I dunno, in the Trayvon / Zimmerman trial, the star witness for the persecution, hell man, I would have (had I been any of the lawyer types there) stood up and said I was Frito Pendejo, and Zimmerman was guilty because he talked like a fag, oh, and he interrupted me while I was watching Ow My Balls!

But that’s why I am not a lawyer, and that is why I can find skanky sluts everywhere I look, and 500 buck beaters that last me 3 years.

I’m not looking to fix anything up, so I see what is before my eyes, and if it has utility….