Affairs

From the hallowed annals that is PostSecret:



Affairs..affairs...affairs...

Sex really does make the world go 'round, doesn't it. When the sex stops, so does the world.

It's hilarious watching things that happen. Yes, I've been the recipient of an "affair" - with a married woman. Within an hour of meeting, buried balls-deep in her asshole. Long, long ago - in retrospect, I should have stayed that person instead of attempting to become the "nice guy" and marry and "do the right thing" for a girl. More true to myself.

This is very common in the world, far more than you'd think. Just look at the number of married women openly looking for something on the side - there's a website devoted entirely to discreet affairs for married women.

Like any website, you do need to be good-looking, and charm helps a lot. Me, I'm ugly, so websites do not work that well for me.

This is not the "how-to" type of post though.

When you can have an "open" affair though - one that the husband knows you're having it with his wife, and does nothing - well, there you go. This is where you start to realise just how full of poison our society really is.

That was twelve years ago.

This is now.

And the poison is even more pervasive.

Desperation

When they reach a certain point, girls become desperate. It's kind of humorous to experience.

I know a girl who's in her mid-30's, just bought a house, and has a 9-year-old child. She was talking about various things:

• she's looking for a boyfriend (funny, I've seen you shoot guys down thick'n'fast)

• girls do have a limit after which their eggs expire (yep, where guys like me can father children until they're in their nineties)

• she is expecting to be a man-magnet, because there aren't that many women who are capable of buying their own home (sugar mommy! - and that's the FEMALE desire for security that you're trying to attract a man with, not the male desire for sexuality)

In short: she's reached the desperate and clucky stage.

After 20-odd years of fucking the boys who make her pussy drip, having someone else's bastard child, and giving her body away - she now wants to "settle down" with a provider male (aka a Beta). She will qualify him like gangbusters, being "choosy" - when she never was in the past. Certainly not when it came to the guy she had her bastard with.

This new man that she chooses is expected to be grateful(!) for the occasional chance to dip his wick in her well-stretched/used snatch. She's kinda plump to boot.

I'm picking that divorce will be on the horizon also, sometime within 10 years of the marriage. Maybe 5-8 years, if she tries the Eat-Pray-Love method of gaining cash and prizes. That'll give her the chance to try once more for another marriage with a better Beta, maybe an Alpha if she gets really lucky.

Ha fucking ha.

At mid-thirties, she should have had a house paid off. No, she spent that money on career and having a good time.

Congratulations, you wasted money on a teachers degree instead of something of real worth. You can now "officially" babysit children all day. So you get to deal with other people's shitty children in a school, instead of dealing only with your own in the luxury and privacy of your own home.

Men, it is almost our duty to waste the final "fertile" years of these women when we run across them. Then leave them broken and torn.

It's their own poison, turned back upon and used against them.

Show us your tits!

Come on girls, don't be shy! Show us your tits!

Ah, it's Friday. During the TGI Friday Jawfest, one of the girls there flashed me - hah! Which leads me down the question of WHY she felt the need to show me her tits, given that her partner was sitting right there...

Was it us guys checking out the girls passing by and indulging in locker-room talk?

Was it the naughty comments about we were making about the waitress? (She likes to play with other girls, which her boyfriend doesn't approve of...I don't care if she plays with other girls, maybe she should dump her boyfriend and go with me...she's getting a little pudgy belly, she's obviously not getting enough sexercise from him...yet I digress.)

Was it about X, who was hitting on me even though she had a boyfriend, because she's a nympho and a slut and a whore? (A real whore I mean, not just calling her a whore.)

Or maybe she just wanted me to have a picture of her tits, since I was taking a photo at the time?

Probably the latter, given that she's a very flirty type. Back when I was shyer, she used to really tease me - I grew calloused about it.

Girls will do that kind of stuff. Flash their tits, give you a brown-eye, whatever. BUT!

Only if they're at least somewhat interested. (Or teasing. Sometimes it's hard to tell which.)

I wonder what her partner thought of that. I showed 'em the picture, she came up with a comment about not knowing how she felt about that being on my phone. I told 'em I had much worse there, then showed 'em a couple that I hadn't deleted as yet.

That made her feel a bit more "neutral" about it. At least, she didn't say anything more, so the distraction was successful.

While I can guess, I cannot tell what was going on in her creepy little mind. Maybe she's got the tingles, maybe not, who cares. If the juices flow at some opportune time, then good.

As always I watch the world pass by, revealing itself to me in myriad little ways - showing the poison that impregnates it.

Watch the world burn

I fucking hate people.

They do stupid shit for no apparent reason. Or "just because" is all the reason that they can come up with. Or "it seemed like a good idea at the time" - that's a classic, an oldie but a goodie! "I was drunk/stoned/both" - like, wow, man! "Funny as fuck eh!" - great story mate!

Reporter: So, why did you jump off the roof of that building?

Victim: Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Duh uh dribble.

In any situation that you can imagine. Walk through the bad parts of town at midnight? Sure! Try that pill? No problem! Fuck that guy and catch something that makes you sterile? Bring it!

Fuck! It drives me nuts that stupid cunts (of both sexes) do this sort of stupid shit!

Do these fucking morons have a fucking death-wish?

I sit and watch these fucking retards. I watch them doing the same dumb shit, over and over, that they did from age fifteen. They're thirty-plus now - it hasn't sunk into their heads yet.

What bothers me most: THEY DON'T LEARN FROM THIS FUCKING SHIT.

There's no sense in people, it's all giggles and fucktardism!

So.

I paste this veneer of a shallow, uncaring sack of shit over my real personality.

From behind these cold eyes, I watch people destroy themselves, giggling and laughing as they do it - because its funny-as shit for them, eh cunts.

I don't say a damn thing as I brood in my inner darkness, watching the poison which fills our society.

I sometimes wonder if the bleakness and blackness somehow seep out of me, visible to others.

But then, I think, fuck it. People don't want to hear sensible thoughts. They just want to have fun, fuck the consequences.

So I leave them to it. Just watch the world burn, and laugh in the flames.

The Victim Card

Ah, the victim card. Women are exceptionally good at playing this.

Because they're a woman, it is "socially expected" (in their minds, anyway) that their side of any story be the one automatically believed. As a group, they promote this thinking. (Actually they attempt to shove it down your throat, but what the hell. Most people are too unaware to notice when it's attempted, let alone when successfully done.)

There's always two sides to a story, though.

And some women - ah, they play the victim card with consummate skill and finesse.

I ran into one recently, she is a master of it. So much so that its a habit she's gotten into. She needs running over, given what she's doing with her victim card. So, let us rev up the two-ton bulldozer!

Her Age: just turning 40.

Her Looks: pleasantly blond, reasonably decent body and face. Not a hot babe, though she could easily vamp up to a 7-8 if she wanted to. More the cute type.

Her Situation: as a young child (around 10) she survived a rare-ish form of cancer. One that left her sterile (instead of dead).

Now, normally you would not expect to be hit with the latter kind of information on a first social meeting. That would be revealed over time. You WOULD be expecting to hear that kind of thing if you were listening to an inspirational speaker.

This girl was in a bar and pulling flyers (!) out of her purse within 5 minutes of being introduced.

The flyer urges me to make a donation so that she can "continue her mission of hope, love and encouragement to cancer patients around the world". Apparently via an overseas trip later this year. This was so astounding that I kept the flyer for reference.

"I can't have children" - ah, that brings a little tear to me eye, that does. The puir wee lassie, there's nae other lass that's in that situation. Oh wait: there was Fee who caught an STD at age twelve, that made her sterile (different name, yet a real person I know). Nothing more to see here, move along.

A prime Victim Card, this one has. Used like a velvet-padded bludgeon also - I'm not gonna reveal any more details, other than to say that the flyer was written by a master at the art of tugging the heartstrings. A deft hand at the marketing pen, almost worthy of Gary Halbert himself.

A good thing that I chainsawed my heartstrings a while back.

Harsh news for you, girl: you are by no means unique. Unless you mean uniquely entitled, because you sure have that entitlement mentality going at high-octane-hamster-speed. There are many people who've survived that cancer that you survived, who simply go on about their days, being a quiet comfort to their family and friends. They beat it, they ain't pounding on their chest and shouting to the world about how wonderful they are for doing it.

It's called being humbly glad to be alive.

More harsh news for you, girl: doctors and nurses also give hope, love and encouragement. It's what they're trained to do. Yes, they get paid for it - their training doesn't come cheap. Unlike you, they give it to a lot more than a very simple, sub-selection of sufferers out there. It's also a lot more practical than love, hope and encouragement. It fucking saves peoples fucking lives.

You simply make a big hoopla of it.

I'd think a lot more pleasantly of you if you funded your overseas extreme lifestyle trip yourself, instead of throwing yourself upon the charity of others for your holiday. There are women who are actually capable of paying their own way like that, you know. Unlike you, who are asking for donations - which would be better off used to help others directly.

There's a word for sucking off someone else's tit like that: leech.

It's also called fucking hypocrisy.

I decided to test her with a small little verbal jab: as expected, she flinched and had a little passive-aggressive whinge. Typical victim mentality, one of those types all right. Not wanting to seem like a complete turd I gave her a little hug and a gentle apology - then basically ignored her for the rest of the night.

The last I saw, she was giggling over a guy I know in passing who was chatting her up. Better you than me mate - I'd be afraid of being infected if I even did a simple pump'n'dump. Which is probably what will happen to her: she can't keep a man, probably because of the constant victim bullshit being too much to swallow.

If she ever reads this and recognises herself, I hope that her soul dies a little more. Kill that fucking hamster one drop of black poison at a time. Her septic entitlement mentality deserves it, and taking a scalpel to that kind of mentality is a distinct pleasure.

We live in a time of theft - PT II

Continuing on with the last mention of living in a time of theft - remember that I said about physically owning gold and silver?

Last week: ABN AMRO, the largest Dutch bank, defaulted on all those guys who bought gold through them.

That's right. Defaulted. As in, we don't actually have the gold that you bought through us. We cannot send it to you. We cannot put it into your grasping little hands. Instead, you can have your cash back - at the going market rate for gold.

Which, by the by, someone has been attempting to push down for the past few weeks. Never mind Cyprus and now this bank. And how the eurozone looks like its going down the shitter. As well as the rest of the world.

Own. Physical. Gold. And. Silver.

That said, it appears that too many people are sheep. In the past, someone who attempted to steal another mans gold got shot for their attempt. Nowadays we're too fucking namby-pamby soft.

As an aside, I'm looking for certain things to begin correcting themselves - starting about 2020. a friend of mine disagrees and thinks about five years, in 2017.

I'm wondering how long the sheep will let themselves be pushed around - or if they'll ever fight back at all.

Society is too sick to survive much longer in this way.

Might be an idea to stock up on some alcohol too - you might need it to get through some really bad parts.

TGI Friday Jawfest

Every Friday I go out to lunch with some mates. The place varies and the number varies, depending on crazy work and suchlike, yet two of us are the base of the group: we are there religiously.

Topics range widely. Travel, houses, building, the economy, work, stock market, the fucking Pope, whatever. Also watching girls walking past - saw one today in fact, whose arse I recognised from behind. A beer, a gabfest -

- and inevitably, the locker room conversation, usually when there's no girls around.

So and so are fucking.

So and so have broken up, burned their bridges, and now trying to cross the scorched earth again.

So and so are not fucking, even though they've been going out for x months, because she wants him to sort his issues out first. Jesus fucking Christ dude, go fuck someone else then. Fucking pansy.

So and so wrecked their social lives by being a pair of nasty cunts.

So and so is no longer being invited out to things because she hangs out with so and so above. I told her why and that she's judged by the company she keeps. You could see the wheels turning in her head as she took it in and realised it.

You get the picture. Yes, girls - we men have our locker-room talk. Sometimes we'll even include you in it. If you're lucky, it's as a fascinated participant.

Today's Jawfest included bitching about the childish games that some women seem compelled to play.

This fucking shit was old in high-school. Here you are 30+ and still playing childish teenage fucking games. Some cunts just never did grow up, and too many stupid bastards let those cunts get away with that shit.

Retards. Both the girls who do it and the boys who let them get away with it.

Fucking grow a spine. Tell that cunt that you'd fuck her, 'cause she has a good hole, but she ain't worth putting any effort into.

She's replaceable. After all, there's a million out there just like her.

Still, these cunts never will learn. The pain just isn't high enough - until they're completely used up, wiped out, they've gone-and-wasted their fucking best selves on the cock-carousel of sexy men.

The most amusing thing?

Once they're fucked over beyond their use-by date, they suddenly realise what they've done to themselves. By then though, there's no hope for them.

Amusing to watch them die inside, day by day. You can see that poison spread.

Objectification and Sex Toys

Another example of social (ie female) hypocrisy is the subject of men objectifying women, and sex toys.

Let us be straight up - when it comes to women, men like:

Long hair
Big tits
Tight ass
Long legs

That's it, looks-wise. Add to that a pretty face and a loving, decent, supportive personality and a man has struck gold: he'll move the fucking moon for her. Just don't treat him like shit and you'll be adored and looked after until the day that you die.

Now, tell that to a woman and you will be inundated with cries of "You are so shallow!" and "You should love a woman for more than her looks!" and "You shouldn't judge by looks alone!"

Fuck you, I'm a judgemental bastard. You'll get over it.

If a woman has no interest in doing the best she can with her looks. If she is overweight (especially if she's one of those fat-apologists). If she has an abrasive personality. If she has no interest in being at least pleasant.

If she has the NERVE to tell me that a man should look deeper than the skin.

Then she's a lazy and entitled cunt who cannot be bothered making any real effort for anyone else. Especially for men (because this woman is a real man-hater).

Now that we've gotten past the bit about men being shallow and objectifying women: I have not met one woman who does not have some form of sex-toy.

Not one.

Dildo, vibrator, anal beads, strap-on, blow-up doll, whatever.

Notice this: something like 90% of female toys are a straight-up replacement for a cock. With vibrator action to simulate penetration - the stronger vibrator action to simulate rougher and more forceful entry. Rape fantasies, anyone?

Talk about OBJECTIFICATION.

Yes, we know what you want. A large cock. You keep telling us that, just by the sex-toys that you buy.

Never mind this crap about "it's not the size of the rowboat, it's the motion of the ocean, baby" or "size doesn't matter, it's how you use it".

Cut the bullshit. Size does fucking matter. Whether its going into your cunt or ass or mouth, it matters to you, the bigger the better. End of story. This is why men are obsessed with cock-size, we know the truth: women are even more obsessed.

Next stop: men's toys. There aren't as many out there as women's (though in some cases, they're interchangeable use for men and women). Men basically have a cup to put the penis in, and there are RealDolls™. Not a whole lot more out there for guys. Of course, if a man gets a sex-toy, he's an immediate loser.

I'm waiting for the ultimate sex-toy for men to come out: the SexBot™. At that point there will be a huge drop in demand for real women, and the remainder will have to compete real hard if they want a man.

Imagine: an ersatz woman who always looks good, always smells great, is always up for sex, is always pleasant, can converse intelligently on any subject that you care to talk about, and who always has the time and energy to clean and cook and suchlike around the home. Optional dancing module.

Real women (™) are going to have a their work cut out for them when the SexBots come out. It's gonna be hard for them to, like, y'know, learn to be pleasant and have a decent and attractive personality. They're gonna have to work hard for it. If they're plain or ugly, forget it.

That or die lonely and without a sperm-donor for the kiddies that they wanted to have.

The black poison of their future despair and desperation is delicious.

Are You A Man Or A Mat?

Following on from: Evisceration of a Woo-Girl, I decided that it was worthwhile eviscerating her boyfriend as well.

Let it begin.

Her age: 41 (ahuh, settling age).

His age: 45 (why you looking at older sluts, dude?)

She is a marathon runner, voice teacher, and piano teacher (those who can't, teach).

He is a high-end lawyer (like, y'know, a half-million a year income).

She moved in with him within 2 months, taking 15-year-old daughter with her.

They go out to bars, where she will do inappropriate things (like dancing on the table - typical Woo-Girl behaviour).

To date, 15-year-old daughter has "borrowed" his car twice, and crashed it twice (a high-end car, last time totally written off).

So, here we have an ageing Woo-Girl lucking into the man of her dreams. Who is so pussified that he thinks it is amazing that she is such a sexy exhibitionist. Who thinks its funny that former "boyfriends" call up for sex or hit on her. And who is so indulgent that her womb-turd-brat of a daughter can smash up a Ferrari with impunity.

Boy, talk about lapping up a woman's runny shit.

I wonder how he'd feel if he knew how many guys have pictures of her: legs, boobs, pussy (very pouty), ass, and videos of her masturbating and sucking cock and taking it deep (nice vids by the way). She still has a great body at her age, and she works hard to keep her cunt tight.

Somehow, I think that the black poison would kill him pretty quick.

Evisceration of a Woo-Girl

The Scene: a bunch of people, male and female, having a gabfest.

The Woo-Girl: hardcore, just got herself a man, still in the dribbly, gooey stage w/dripping pussy and gushing little-girl hyperbole.

The Complaint: now that she's taken, guys won't stop hitting on her!

Case In Point: a guy she'd met a year ago who texted her out of the blue, obviously looking for a booty-call. And was, like, so persistent and disgusting! Really pissed with him!

Details: 11pm, said text arrives, she thought it was from her boyfriend upstairs and responded enthusiastically: "Yes! Thank god you wrote me, I'm coming up!" Gets up there and finds out that he didn't text her after all. Checks the phone, realises that she'd responded to a guy from back-when who was looking for a booty-call.

Next text: "Call me." Her response: "I'm in bed with my boyfriend!"

His further texts made her call him a pig.

Evisceration: I deconstructed her bullshit right in front of everybody, for all to see. Called her out on it.

1/ Did he know you were in a relationship? No, it was out of the blue. You also KEPT HIS NUMBER all that time, so he was always a possibility for a fuck.

2/ Pissed or embarrassed? Why pissed, when you should be embarrassed?

3/ When inattentively replying to your supposed BF, he naturally took that as a legitimate "Yes I want you!" Naturally he told you to call him, he's not a fucking idiot. (Remember, YOUR mistake - own it and deal with it.)

4/ You texted him back with: "I'm in bed with my boyfriend!" /facepalm

The subtext to this message: "But I'm so thrilled to be here that I'll text you back at 11pm instead of getting a good snuggle/fucking. He means that little to me that at 11pm I am answering texts from ex-possible-boyfriend-dates. Yes, please fuck me, because I am so over and ready to dump this one."

They say that women are great communicators: fail.

A man has to explain to you how much you did wrong: double-fail.

A clueless man has to tell you how bad you did: triple-fail.

This happened right in front of everyone in the group: quadruple-fail.

*spanked her ass for fucking up so bad*

I then challenged her about why she was getting this attention: asked if it was because she was unconsciously or consciously putting out signals. Asked her flat-out if it was some attempt to test the commitment of her boyfriend. And finally told her that if it was, it was a really fucked-up way of doing things.

Evisceration complete. Somehow I don't think that I'm the flavour of the month around her any more.

Please excuse me while I go laugh my ass off. The taste of black poison is just too delicious.