Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

July 18, 2014

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 11:50 pm

I have, very slowly and belatedly, come to realise yet another universal truth about wimminz, that also as it happens *fairly* strongly applies to niggerz, but for wimminz, it’s nigh on 99.999% of em.

Tom, Dick and Harry, they all meet girls over a period of time, all of whom fuck them over.

Tom’s girl was a redhead, so he swears off redheads for life, no matter what.

Dick’s girl was a waitress, so he swears of waitresses for life, no matter what.

Harry’s girl was a welsh girl, so he swears off welsh girls for life.

Time passes..

Tom’s working for a delivery company, there is one dispatcher he hears on the radio he really likes, she knows her job and is pleasant and nice and kind, then one day he goes into the office and sees her, she has red hair, Tom freaks out.

Dick ends up getting a lucrative contract for six weeks in Japan, so he goes there and realises he can’t read shit on anything in the supermarket, and the labels don’t help either, he spots a MacDonalds as the hunger pangs set in strong, he walks in and sees a waitress waiting to serve him, he freaks out.

Harry is rear ended at the lights, he is in and out of consciousness, he wakes up later in hospital, it’s clear he is injured but everything appears to be there and working, someone has obviously taken good care of him, the nurse walks in and smiles at him, he smiles back, she opens her mouth and speaks with a welsh accent, he freaks out.

You see, this is what wimminz do…..

Instead of using logic, and saying that the last guy who fucked me over worked in IT, but he fucked me over because he was an asshole, not because he worked in IT, so the thing to watch out for is that the next guy is not an asshole…

Oh no, you work in IT, so did my ex, he was a bastard, *****freakout*****, and so, every subsequent decision is at best sub-optimal, and quite often the very worst choice she could have made.

She dumps your ass and goes and hangs out will lowlife bob, who couldn’t find the “any” key, but hey, he doesn’t work in IT…. the fact he is a lowlife doesn’t enter the equation.

When the inevitable complications and consequences of being with a lowlife materialise some time later, well, at least he doesn’t work in IT, so, like, what else was she supposed to do???

So I am the only stable and decent and educated and resourceful man who has been anywhere near you, or your poor fucking kids, the one ray of sunlight to enter their lives, but that doesn’t matter, I work in IT…. so I’m discarded…

Meanwhile your neighbours are alleging childhood rape against one another, your kid’s friends girlfriends are alleging sexual abuse from their parents, your new lowlife boyfriend likes taking you to swingers clubs to get fucked by all and sundry because taking you makes him a couple and saves the 50 buck door fee, oh, and your ex, the one who was in IT, yeah you’ve got your kids being interviewed by shrinks and social services to build a case against him, buy hey, you’ll do anything to protect your kids, they come first, and me, well, I work in IT.

Frankly, bitch, if you were *anything* like the kind of walking disaster area you are now, and I was chained to you by marriage, I’d beat you too, allegedly, not because you’re a worthless skank ho of course, just because I work in IT.

It’s decision by classification, my piece of shit red ford kept breaking down because I’d never fix it properly and never maintained it and drove it like I stole it, till the day it died and really fucked my week up…. the solution, decide to never buy another red car, or decide to never buy another ford.

Go to the used car lot and the only decent car there isĀ  red ford, dismiss it out of hand, and buy the biggest piece of shit on the lot, repeat ad nauseam for the rest of your life…. refusing to ever even consider a red car or a ford.

There is a ham-beast that I am emptying my balls into currently, she *knows* I am so fucking far out of her league it ain’t true, so how does she react, she plays it coy.

I ask her if she is missing my cock, she plays it coy and says she ain’t admitting anything…lolol

I say fine if you ain’t admitting it y’all obviously don’t want it that bad, catch u on the flipside

she messages the next day, little bit of chit chat, you missing my cock bitch, she says yes.

Learned her lesson? Has she fuck, and if you even thought she did for a moment, you haven’t absorbed anything I have written so far.

How much I ask, she plays it coy and says she ain’t admitting anything…lolol

You see, the *obvious* fucking lesson here is don’t try to play it all coy with me, I got not time for that shit, I’m way outta your fucking league, and so nothing other than eager gratitude cut any shit with me.

She, at some point in her past, decided that what she was doing wrong with one single specific guy back in the mists of history when she was merely fugly and young was she didn’t play it coy, so she resolved to always play it coy from then on, irrespective of whether it was the right or wrong choice for each subsequent guy and indeed each scenario with each guy assuming there was a return match.

The guy who she didn’t play it coy with didn’t dump her because she was all eager and grateful, he just got bored fucking fugly and moved on.

The inverse of this is why wimminz are suckers for Apple, or any other marketing crap, once you hooked em, that’s it.

There aren’t *many* universal truths about wimminz for men looking to empty their balls, and those that there are are usually going to make you the guy who works in IT, not the lowlife whose ass she will stick her tongue in and moan with pleasure.

Most bitches nowadays have tats, I’ve yet to see a decent one, with any artistic merit or talent at all, much less an appropriate one, let even a hint of this seep out, and you will be the guy who works in IT.

Look *at* one tat, closely, with feigned interest, trace it ever so gently with the tip of your index finger, say “that’s interesting, I like that, why did you get it done?” and they’ll spread for you.

See, they have *all* at some point met some guy in the past who has said “WTF is that supposed to look like, nah, you’d have looked *much* better without that shit all over your skin” and decided that that guy worked in IT, remind them of him at your peril, if getting laid is anywhere in your plans, or not being someone she actively dislikes and distrusts is anywhere in your plans, and the latter is more common than the former, the HR skank will have a tat, there are 150 employees, they are downsizing to 100, don’t compliment the tat, say you like it and it is INTERESTING and ask why she had that particular tat done, and you won’t be one of the 50 guys kicked to the kerb, all of whom worked in IT.latin_tattoos_smith

The reason *this* guy can probably get laid easier than you is simple enough, the level of facial tats is still rare enough that she almost certainly hasn’t met anyone with that many before, so it is extremely unlikely that there is a pre-existing decision that he works in IT.

Nota bene.

I talk about women, and wimminz, and I say that it is solely by their ACTIONS that you can tell the two apart, it’s not because you were born with a cunt that I think you are a soul-less evil psycho skank ho, it is because you will make false rape and DV accusations to get a man evicted from his own house and excluded from his own children’s lives, while making his wallet yours.

Wimminz, nope, no matter what the man does or endures to try and be a good dad, despite the circumstances, he was born with a penis, therefore he works in IT.

Learning from your mistakes.

It’s what men do, it means that unless the guy’s trade is intricately linked to *how* he fucked you over, eg if he has worked in anything *but* IT, he could not have fucked you over, then you can’t make *any* connection between him fucking you over and him working in IT

If how he fucked you over was intricately linked to him working in IT, then learning from your mistakes will teach you that his trade only gave him the ability to fuck you over in that particular fashion, if he had had a different trade, then it could have been done a different way, but it was still his willingness to fuck you over that counted, that was the lesson to learn.

Blacklisting everyone who works in IT is explicitly NOT learning that lesson, and simply guarantees you will make the same mistake over, and over, and over.

All you can do then is expand the definition of “works in IT”

I have been compared to bastard ex’s that worked in IT, because I work in IT, and when I look at these individuals, I find, literally, that I know ten year olds with more IT knowledge who have designed better websites and so on, as someone who works in IT, he is not someone I would classify as someone who works in IT, even if he does claim to be a “web designer”

Of course, having been classified as someone who works in IT, if you do not resort to beating the bitch at every opportunity, then clearly you do not merely work in IT, you are a sneaky manipulative clever (in a nasty evil scheming way) bastard who works in IT.

So, you see, the problem here bitch is not that I work in IT, the problem is you never learned to make a real decision, or to revisit any decision you have made the next time the wheel comes around to a similar place, that’s why you keep fucking up the same way all the time.

February 2, 2013

Truth or Dare

I see a lot of posts in the MRM talking about religion, and the lack of religion as being part and parcel of the breakdown of marriage 1.0 and the declining standards of wimminz etc.

Substitute any other hobby horse you like for “religion” and you just covered 99% of the manosphere.

Thing is, this is dishonest, and the problem really is not that complex.article-2271953-1749181F000005DC-536_306x423

What all these hobby horses have in common is the exact same thing, pressure on the wimminz in question to stand by her word.

It really is as simple as that.

It’s not that marriage 1.0 wimminz stood by her man because she had religion, it’s that she stood by her man, the why doesn’t matter a damn.

If you owe me 50 bucks, I really don’t give a fuck what your motivation was for repaying me, all I give a fuck about is you repaying the 50 bucks when you said you would.

It could be because god told you to, or it was a day with a T in it, or a black cat crossed your path, I don’t give a flying fuck, any more than I would if those same reasons were used by you to justify not paying me back on time.

99.999% of what I give a fuck about is you standing by your word, and paying me back when you said you would.

I’m not sure why most of the MRM appears to care about the reasons, and not the actions, but I do have a theory.

That theory is you can’t really give a fuck about other people standing by their word unless you give a fuck about standing by your word… I think the two processes are indivisible.

I fucking detest my psycho skank ho ex, and all the secret family court lawyers and judges etc, because they make it impossible for me to stand by my word (it was implied, not stated, to an unborn child, but that does not matter to a man) and be there to care for and teach my sons… I was left with two choices;

  1. Break that implied word / duty by being imprisoned for refusing to stop trying to keep it.
  2. Break that implied word / duty by walking the fuck away and refusing to let them make me a niggerz

Let me give you a small example.

There is a phrase that I can remember my mother saying to me as a small boy.

Much of the MRM will say this is because my mother was a religious woman who entered into a marriage 1.0 with my father, etc etc etc.

I have no way to prove it, but I would bet large amounts of money that this is a phrase my sons will never hear from their psycho skank ho mummy, nor is it something that any other skank ho single mummies ever say to their kids, it has been lost from society.

This is the phrase that my mum said to me, when I lied to her, when she asked me if I had Tom’s mum’s permission if Tom Dick Harry and I could all go out to play in the woods.

My mother (e.g. my grandmother) always said she would rather have a thief in her house than a liar, because if you have a thief in your house all you have to do is lock your nice things away, but there is nothing you can do with a liar.

Certainly for the first half of my life I struggled with that more than anything else, in the here and now of goldfish memory telling a lie is the quick and easy way out, or way in, or way to get something, or way to avoid something.

It was complicated by the fact that at school telling a lie and so not grassing up a fellow pupil was seen as being more honourable than telling the truth and grassing them up.

No Sir I don’t know who did it Sir” was always better than “Yes Sir Jimmy did it Sir

But I always struggled with this, because it meant that telling a lie was better than telling the truth, and also that telling the truth was more important than honour and loyalty to your classmates.

Rather like a computer given an impossible task, my solution was not a solution at all, in that I did not come up with it, it just happened, endless feedback loop, zombie children roaming in the pipes.

My “solution” was to simply refuse to answer the question.

Did you hear the question boy?

Yes Sir.

Are you going to answer it then?

No Sir.

And so it came to pass that I very quickly gained a reputation for what was classed as “dumb insolence“, which followed me through my scholastic career and in many ways blighted it.

Of course to the tyrannical and authoritarian masters at school, I was the Antichrist, but there were some others, who never commented upon my dumb insolence, but who never asked me those kinds of questions again, and who sometimes had a kind word to say to me and a gentle smile.

In hindsight I can also see that despite the exhortations of my parents to work harder at school and to stop constantly being in trouble, not once, ever, was I chastised for my dumb insolence, which was after all the cause of it all…

Back then I could never have predicted seeing my own sons in similar unpleasant circumstances, or hearing about such things anecdotally after I was barred from contact with them, albeit domestic rather than scholastic circumstances, and I hear that the boys just go all quiet and stubborn when asked to agree to something that they know is not true.

While I think the would would be a better place is there was a lot more dumb insolence in it, this isn’t about blowing my own trumpet.

Most people will either lie about who did it or grass Johnny up to the teacher, people like me are the outliers, I know this, but perhaps we are also the canary in the coal mine.

People who have more than a passing fondness for the truth, people who have already been butt-fucked enough for their fondness that they no longer hold out any hope of getting a fair shake of the stick, people who may not have been thoroughly honest all their lives, but people who do not have a pile of things accrued through lies and deceit.

The trick of course is to not be the canary in the coalmine, be the jackdaw in the trees outside the coalmine, let some other fucker be the lighting rod.

In hindsight, that is the lesson that it took me 30 years after school to learn.

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