As The World Burns Down

It's no secret that I have a few bucks. In fact I make way more now than I did back when the bitch pulled her version of Eat-Pray-Love on me.

Have'n those few bucks opens a few doors.

Which lets out some info about the future finances of New Zealand and etc - probably Aussieland as well.

It's no secret the good old Labor Gubnermint has been rapin' and pillagin' everything in sight money-wise. Currently inflation in NZ is over the 8% mark, probably over 10%, across the board. They been buyin' votes, though I don't think it's gonna help 'em this election.

To give you an idea: 3 years ago gas was $1.54 a liter, now it's $3.11 a liter. That has a nasty on-flowing effect with the prices of everything else. (AKA it's an excuse for prices to jump and sizes to shrink, which is why eggs are now $12 for 10. Yes more than a buck per. Sheeeit, get yourself some chooks ASAP.)

The word from behind closed doors is: Next April, expect the banks to get harder with lending money.

This makes a certain amount of sense. Governments need bucks, cannot have those bucks going into houses - because the average good house in NZ is currently in the $800k+ range. That's money going to the bank-owners (Aussies) and not Das NZ Gubnerment in the form of GST and other crapola taxes.

Solution: Force banks into tougher lending criteria.

Which is very interesting when we think about the history of it all. Das NZ Gubnerment has, several times, floated New Zealand banks. They go for 5-10 years, get profitable, then get flogged off to the Aussie banks.

I'm not sure why. It seems...self-sabotaging. Though it also seems to happen with a change in the leadership of Das Gubnermint, so maybe that's it: the National Party gets things on track and then Labor rips the fuckin' track up again.

Tells you lots about how this third-world country is run.

Any rate. If nobody can afford houses...then the idea seems to be that people will lose hope and start living hand-to-mouth instead of saving up to get ahead. AKA everyone forced to become grasshoppers and the ants get slaughtered.

It's like they want people to stay in their lower-class place, you ain't getting ahead bruvva.

So we'll see what happens soon, here in what might become New Shitsville. There's rumblings and rumors of some form of basic living amount being given out, so everyone is on the dole - if you want more, work for it.

Not sure how that'll work out.

Brought to you by BPS and Crap Colored Glasses™, only $1k the pair and cheap at 10x the price.

Take Advantage of the Opposition's Mistakes

I'm glad to see that Big Country is doing very well with his progress re getting little Adriana back. He's had his first proper visitation, it went well, etc.

His lawyer (Pitbull - great name for what sounds like a great lawyer) seems to be punching the crapola out of the legal system. That works well too. Good that I sent a little cashola his way, it helps me keep abreast of what's going on there.

Now lets talk about what might be called "Tactics Of Mistake". Like the Gordon R. Dickson novel of the same name, it's always good to take advantage of the opposition's mistakes. (I often think that the Military OODA loop is designed to do just that - get somebody off-balance, they start making mistakes, and then take advantage of those mistakes as much as possible. Eventually you wind them up in their own fuckups and they're done for.)

In civilian life it's of course better to take advantage of someone's self-made mistakes. Once they get themselves in the shit, keep nudging them back into their own cesspool of dumbassery. At the end of it they're so mired down that they've lost, very obviously to all and sundry. Your hands are clean - it's not like you punched them, put them in hospital or anything - yet they've so thoroughly lost that their life is now a completely fucked-up mess.

It's nice to see Big Country doing that to a certain useless baby-momma and co.

While it would be satisfying to beat certain people to a bloody pulp, he's allowing them to beat themselves to a bloody pulp. All legally, hands squeaky-clean, plus putting the legal knife into the system for some of the dodgy stuff they've been pulling. Again, all legally, hands squeaky-clean.

Nice.

Here's another example from what Big Country is going through: taking advantage of another's mistake's.

Pitbull (lawyer) employed Princess (paralegal).

Princess is apparently very well-named, BC and G didn't speak with Pitbull about her. Pitbull mentioned it off their own bat - and described Princess as to what other customers had said. Eventually Princess got herself fired (thanks to her own snooty attitude etc) and Pitbull complains to BC about the mess that was left behind.

"You know, you could do worse than hire G."

Two days later, G is employed by Pitbull. Prime example of taking advantage of someone else's mistakes. Given that BC and G need the money big-time, perfect opportunity.

BC I raise to you a glass of Grand Marnier. May you and our other brothers keep on keeping on.

BPS

Some Things Are Bullshit

Over the years you start developing a nose for the bullshit in the world. You know, stuff like:

Feminism. That horse keeps getting a solid beating.

Communism. That worked reeeeeeal well in Russia. Also in Cambodia, under Pol Pot. China is having a rough time with it now also...

Emotional Intelligence (EQ).

Let's be clear: Intelligence (IQ) is definitely measured and measurable, with lots of tests, and is damned-well accepted scientifically.

Emotional Intelligence (EQ) has no accepted scales and tests. Not one.

This puts it in the category of Pop Psychology along with MBTI and similar "personality tests". (All the garbage that HR drones love-love-love to spout, because it's all very nebulous and feel-good and hand-wavey and stuff like that. AKA it gives them an excuse to attend conferences in other cities or overseas, lap up the booze, sample some exotic cock, all on the company dime and without coming back with any kind of plan of work, actionable steps, etc.)

HR. See above. I've also known some HR types who hire female staff on the basis of if she will part her legs for him. Repeatedly, in the case of fucking the female employees and management of external Employment/Headhunting businesses.

Psychology. I've not quite decided regarding this one.

On the one hand, the concept of the Oedipus Complex ("all sons want to fuck their mothers and hate their father because he got there first and on an ongoing basis"). This is currently in severe doubt in the psychological world. Yeah, great projection of your own fucked-up-ness there, Freud. He also stated that lesbianism was caused by the father, was curable with psychoanalysis, and yet could not "cure" lesbianism in his own daughter. Way to prove your own theories are horseshit, mate.

On the other hand, these pricks are master manipulators. Something about poking your finger into the psyche of thousands of people on an ongoing basis - and being paid huge bucks for it! - gives some pretty good insights into the mind. Also a helluva lot of training towards fucking with the mind and emotions, 'cause they learn where all the buttons that can be pushed are. The more unethical members go into marketing - and if you cross them are very good at pushing *your* buttons.

Greenpeace. Oh my...

Saving the planet. Hahah - the planet could be nuked flat, the surface turned to glass, every speck of life from the top of the stratosphere to the bottom of the Mariana Trench eradicated with lethal radiation and chemical poisons, and the Earth would go on it's merry way for the next 5 billion years. The planet doesn't need saving. WE need saving. Unfortunately the typical alarmist language used by these so-called quasi-politico organizations just turns our brains off. We either swallow it whole, or reject it utterly.

Stop chlorination campaign. 1991-1995, we shall be rid of PVCs and suchlike eeeevils, yay! In the same time-period Latin America had 1 million Cholera cases and 10,000 deaths. Due to...stopping chlorinating their drinking water. Well, that's just fucking inconvenient of them innit...

(Seriously, these crazy politico cunts are a target 8 miles wide, just like Storm Large's vagina).

Even if there might be a slight grain of truth in it. (The planet? Pfui. Our society? Now you're talkin'.)

So, how do you detect this bullshit?

When someone is effectively screaming and throwing monkey-poo at you, you have two natural impulses:

* Defend yourself (walking away is a defense)

* Swallow it whole and join in (if you're a sheep - with the bonus that you're now on the throwing-end of the monkey-poo, not the receiving-end)

It takes a lot of effort to stop and think about what's going on at this point. Takes a lot of practice to getting to there - and I don't claim to have gotten that good at it either. Usually I have to cool off and figure it out later ("What should I have done at this point? Okay...")

One rule of thumb you can pretty-much count on:

If someone is screaming and throwing monkey-poo at you for whatever "reason", it's probably entirely founded on some form of bullshit.

It's always worth stopping and thinking about it - even if long afterwards - to figure out exactly what sort and how much bullshit is involved. Also what might have caused it to come into existence.

Usually its due to stupidity.

I remember one guy telling me that global warming was most definitely a thing, the seas were rising, etc etc etc. I agreed with him - 'cause I already knew it was alarmism and bullshit, and was in the middle of eating a delicious steak dinner. Priorities.

By all the above predictions, we should be living in Mel Gibson's Water World by now. Or dead, because WWIII happened and we nuked the planet and the few survivors cried out "eloi!" to the fallout and had some sort of mutated baby-things.

Instead, we have the Leftist-Academia-Complex putting out their theories of 72+ different forms of sexual preference - I haven't bothered counting recently - and if you're a boring Heterosexual White Male fucker then you will be hung, drawn, and quartered. Then they'll get serious with the real punishment. (Never mind Google employees identifying as a fuckin' building and having a company talk about it...there's some whack-job mentality right there.)

Yet when I look into the whole rising sea-level thing, I cannot help but notice something about people.

They'll build a fuckin' city on a fuckin' flood-plain. Yes, I'm looking at you, New Orleans (and the country of Denmark).

In contrast, I see wharves here in NZ that were built over 100 years ago. Also parks in a sea inlet. Also the local beaches.

Looking at the alarmism above - with predictions of rising sea levels of 1+cm a year - we should have seen in the past 33 years over a foot of water rise, which should have caused many of these areas to be flooded with every rising tide. I've been here for 35 years, it's happening people!

Funny, I ain't seeing it.

So yeah, this is how you know bullshit. It applies to a lot of things.

Hell, it probably applies to some (or all, if you're a Feminist-Leftist heterosexual male caucasian-hating weirdo) this blog. I ain't some fount of wisdom and all. I sure as shit ain't perfect.

And I'm still trying to figure out the bullshit in this world. There's a lot of it.

Brought to you by Crap-Colored Glasses™, only $1k the pair and cheap at 10x the price.

Fuck You're Cold

Yup.

"Why?"

Meh.

"But why? Would it really hurt to show some of your self?"

Yup.

"You know, if you were more open, you might find a really great girl."

Like you?

"Well..."

So you're not really interested. You just want gossip and shit from someone reputed to be a cold-ass stone.

"..."

Let's see. Tats. Snot ring. Overweight. Lookin' fuckin' raddled too - too much booze, and probably a heavy smoker. Waaay too much makeup, which even my blind-ass eyes can see. You're ten years younger'n me too. Shit, I look better'n you do, even though the damn Covid fucked my gym over and closed it down.

"Why won't you talk about yourself?"

You ain't got anythin' I want, hoe. I'm'a go play a computer game, or watch the Alien movies, they're more interesting than your skank ass.

"Hey! Where're you going?!"

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

Make sure it's worth it, brothers - before you even think about bothering to open up anything to a camel that wants to get its head in the tent.

Remember: Women want fried ice.

And mansplaining is abusive.

BPS

Never Fuck With Family

Going on with that theme, I see that Big Country has shut down his blog for a bit while he goes'n tries to extract little Adriana from the system. If you haven't heard about it:

Here to donate.

Here to see the Day By Day cartoon giving the above link.

If you've got some beer money to spare, feel free to drop it in the jar. Big Country is putting updates as to what's up on the donation screen.

A good thing, I've been busy with my family stuff. Not been here for a while.

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

Family, whanau, never fuck with them. They've got your back and all - even when you're on the outs with them. Even if they think you're fuckin' crazy, or you think they're fuckin' crazy.

I sometimes wish that I could kick death in the goolies. Another family member bites the dust, takes that walk up to the top of the island and heads off to join the other spirits. This one due to stroke, not the big-C. He had a good long life though, did what he wanted, etc. 83 isn't a bad stretch and all.

Back up the far north. Been a long time. Far too long. Now the lockdown is done (though Covid isn't gone yet, especially not up there) I'm gonna have to make another special trip up Cape Reinga.

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

I finally got the real goss on what went down with a certain family member. He didn't wanna talk about it, so I got a bullshit edition from someone else. Cleared it up finally - he used his tow-truck to move someone's bike to the other side of the street when the fucker got antsy about shifting it outta the way. (Stupid gang member, might have been half-pissed or -drugged.)

Any rate, a couple of the gang member's mates showed up outside his house during the day. Neighbor's wife (also whanau) saw this, called hubby, and a few of them came up and looked the perps over. Seems there was four-five cars so the perps got the idea, fucked off quick.

Smart of them. Some of those guys were firemen types, could pick most people up and fold them in half a few times.

This is why you never fuck with family.

Me, I'm on the out's with some of 'em. Too fuckin' brainy, pisses 'em off.

Still got their back tho. Even if some of them are bullshitting assholes.

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

And on that - keep on fighting, Big Country. You're doing some good there, kicking the damn system a few times. I hope you manage to get Adriana out okay and that life calms down for ya.

Raising a glass of Grand Marnier to you, brother.

BPS

Leftism, Pissing It Away

The joys of leftist politics. I forget which comedian once said, something roughly on the lines of:

"Leftists. They will fix it all, if they have to spend all of your money to do it!"

So Das Guberment, lead by Das Fraulein Horseteeth, have in their infinite wizdumb decided that the poor people of NZ are in need of a "cost of living payment" aka vote-bribe to help them cope with the sudden rise in cost of food and stuff. To the tune of $350 total, split up over 3 months.

In other words: A whopping $116 a month for 3 months.

To get this, you need to be earning under $70k a year. Which shows just how fucking worthless the NZ peso is becoming, even inside New Shitland itself.

How many people qualify? About 2 million.

When you do the sums:

$350 * 2,000,000 = $700,000,000

Or getting up there towards a billion NZ peso's.

Fuuuuuuuuck.

Now, if these fuckwits had spent that on something worthwhile - like decent roads in various places *coughcough* - I would consider it as 'okay, that works and is worthwhile'. (Hah, like the Labour Fuckwits are gonna do anything other than slurp from the trough.)

This is just pissing it away in an attempt to buy votes.

In my estimation: About the only possible slight, miniscule, hint of a hope that NZ has - is if Das Labour Gubermint gets their ass booted out and Das National Gubermint gets in and tries to fix things.

Assuming that it's not all too late already.

Also assuming that Das National Gubermint is any better than Das Labour Guberment. I more-than-sometimes wonder.

At the very least I'm expecting things to go shit-storm-south down here, socially. Only the very rich are gonna get any sort of protection from the police (which is something that Big Country has noted recently on his blog).

Hunker down and buckle in tight. It's getting really, really rough out there.

BPS

You Will Move On

No, this is not a "BPS is moving on from the Manosphere" post.

It's an observation of over the last 4 years or so, plus spending a month or so reviewing the past 12-odd years of my life. Also a few observations from my formative years and all.

Surprisingly, it's also an observation about growth. I'm not sure if Captain Capitalism has put it into his Curse of the High IQ book - I will reread and see. It's easy to do when it's winter here in NZ, after 6pm everything is dark and the fire or heat pump is going.

(Yes, cold. Yes, wet. Thank you Tongan eruption. Weeks on end of rain. Good that I have both a fire and a heatpump, because I'll run out of seasoned wood soon. I need to stock up, double the amount that I had and let it season for a couple of years. Maybe I should triple the size of the firewood shed and triple the amount on hand, to be absolutely certain.)

At any rate, two observations. During your life:

1/ You will grow.

2/ Others will sit in one place.

This is not a condemnation of their choice - MGTOW, that's the path they've chosen. Go for it.

From the perspective of the Man who is growing, you will move on.

As you grow, you will move on to other and (in your personal opinion, per your personal path) more rewarding things in life.

Others will stay in their place.

They might be upset at you moving on. They might not care. From your perspective, it is not relevant. 

You have moved on.

In the end you are only a tiny little ripple in the river of humanity. Your moving on will not make any big changes to others. They are where they are, they are doing what they are doing, because that is the path they've chosen.

You have moved on.

Over my life, I have moved on from many things:

* My home town.

* My friends.

* My new town.

* My new friends.

* My new-new town.

* My new-new friends.

* Several communities (some in the real world, some in the internet - 5 in the past 12 years, 3-4 that I can remember in the years prior to that).

Some things you will stay in distant contact with. Family members. I have several extended whanau who are still where they are. I have moved on - though I stay in contact with them. I'm basically forced to, even though we have nothing much in common. They are still in their place.

I do stay in contact with at least one person from one of the prior communities. He's a good bloke, much nicer than I am. We still have a TGIF on Fridays - at least, when we're not working from home or in Covid lockdown. There will be a few people like that. That's good.

Growth demands moving on. Otherwise you become stuck, to sit in one place all your life.

Having moved on from a community about a month ago, I've been reflecting back on things. Moving on seems (for myself) to be a part of growth.

Growing my life (in this case: income) by a substantial amount in the past year, it has been evident to me that it was time to move on. That community was taking a lot of my personal energy and time. Personal energy and time that would be better put somewhere else, for my personal benefit.

I've been asking myself questions: Should I seek another community to become a part of?

Answer: Why bother?

I will grow and move on from it in a few years.

Especially the communities which are rife with nasty people. They're like lice or maggots, they appear everywhere. Remember: You don't have time for that crap. Places, echo-chambers of toxic crap will drag you down and hold you back.

The only thing that you have time for is your personal path. Period. Remember: You Are MGTOW. You are following your path.

Some people are good to stay in contact with. The rest of them in said community though, sad sacks of shit who are in one place. No time for their constant femicunt-inspired drama and horseshit.

In the end, like many things in life, it was time to make the decision. I chose to pull the trigger...

...and Elvis (hah so conceited on my part) has left the building. Silently. No drama. Like a ghost that was never there.

After a month - not even a ripple to remember me by. Good. They are not relevant to me. I am not relevant to them. They will continue, the community and its members going on as always, in their path as mine diverges away.

I have moved on. As will you.

Hate Speech - Coming To A New Zealand Near You

This is old news - a year ago Adern and co of Das Guberment started making burbling sounds about introducing Hate Speech laws.

Hah. We know where that goes. For current background of NZ laws:

Is there freedom of speech in New Zealand?

In particular, freedom of expression is preserved in section 14 of the New Zealand Bill of Rights Act 1990 (BORA) which states that: "Everyone has the right to freedom of expression, including the right to seek, receive, and impart information and opinions of any kind in any form".

Which by flat-out definition means that those pricks in Google who decided that this channel was hate speech and thus devoiced it, and me, broke New Zealand laws. Of course, good luck - those leftist opinion-shapers are above the law, as well as being outside of NZ jurisdiction anyways.

Remember the Golden Rule: He who has the gold, makes the fucking rules.

Then very conveniently, the Delta - and Omicron - variations of Covid broke out here and all of that 'question' and 'debate' suddenly was swept under the carpet. Like many other "inconvenient truths" do, when a convenient excuse appears.

I can currently say "so and so's particular family of fucktards - who happen to be Maori - are known by the local police as being responsible for 90% of local breaking-and-entering crime, including doing such things on my property". The local police are helpless to do anything about it, beyond giving them "a visit and a good talking to". Which of course said family of fucktards just look all serious when the police show up, and laugh their asses off afterwards and continue on their merry robbing way. Getting them on camera means zip, zilch, nada, nothing.

Because it's "politically incorrect" to and "doesn't follow Das Guberment's approved narrative" to "discriminate" against said family. They're Maori! The fact that they're known criminal scumbags is conveniently swept under the table.

Remember. There's The Law. And there's the law of the jungle.

So it's quite easy to casually pile up some rotten timbers which just so happen to have rusty nails pointing accidentally upwards, right behind the fence. And some leftover wire as well to make things a bit harder for anyone who gets stuck in that mess.

"They came over the fence? What the fuck? I wasn't expecting that. See, that area behind the fence is a bit of a junk-heap Officer. Always has been, is why I threw that rotting junk there after tearing down the old fence and building that new fence. I wasn't expecting some idiot to climb the thing and go face-first into all that busted-up stuff and discarded wire."

Yeah, fucking right.

These pricks won't protect you? You have to accidental-like protect yourself. And your family. And your stuff. Even though your taxes are a bribe to keep these scum from getting really desperate, they still go their merry little way and GTFO you law-abiding citizens.

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

On a lighter note, last night's fire was very nice. The first one of Autumn here - I can feel the bite in the air. Given a certain volcanic bang over Tonga ways, I'm not surprised at that bite.

So the Northern Hemisphere won't be feeling the results of all the Sulphur Dioxide that came from that - most of it stays in the Southern Hemisphere (and the Tropics). That's the way these things go, Northern and Southern parts of the globe essentially have an insulating barrier between them. A good thing that it was underwater too.

Even so, a lot of that shit went into the atmosphere. The scientists reckon between 53-58 teragrams.

Being a nasty, suspicious, paranoid bastard - I ask why the scientists used the word "teragrams". Because it has the word "grams" in it, and therefore doesn't seem that big after all?

To translate:

* 1 teragram = 1 billion kilograms

* 1 billion kilograms = 1 million tons (should I say 1 megaton? hah)

Or at least 50 million tons of sulphur dioxide garbage which turns into atmospheric sulphuric acid droplets, which reflect sunlight away. Right up high in the stratosphere, where it doesn't get cleared away that easily. (There's another 0.4 teragrams aka 0.4 million tons of volcanic ash also, though nobody's really reporting on that.)

To give perspective, normally world sources (human and volcanic) threw about 40 million tons of sulphur dioxide crap into the atmosphere across the entire globe, in a year (as of 2019). About 2/3rds of that is human-made.

For more info, a big chunk of it was from the shipping industry. They've been using nasty high-sulphur fuels for decades, until back in 2020 they got told to cut back on that. Which means less cooling chemicals in the air - yay for global warming. (Oh wait. I mean "climate change". The term "global warming" is no longer politically correct.) At any rate it's probably a lot less than 40 million tons now, maybe as low as 30 million tons globally.

Except that "global warming" just got a massive kick in the nuts in the form of 50 megatons of crap shoved straight into the Southern Hemisphere. Which has essentially so little industrialized stuff down here in this hemisphere that we probably only account for 10 million tons of the worldwide crap, total.

We just got 5x as much dumped on us in one burst.

Yeah we're going to feel cold for a few years to come. You Northern Hemisphere types won't be feeling it so much. Due to weather patterns most of it will stay down here.

So yes - I'm glad of that fire. It's feeling cold, and it's going to get colder (and wetter) down here in NZ.

Man-made climate change, pfui. While big in aggregate, and while keeping a sober eye on what we do dump out, it's still nothing in comparison to what Nature can and will do in an eyeblink.

Stay warm, brothers.

Black Poison Soul

Keep Your Head Down

A bit over a year since my last update, hahah.

Had the head down. There's reasons. Good ones.

Some of them involve family. Been a few deaths, more cancers, heart attacks, that sorta stuff. Amazingly I still seem to have my health. At my age too. Bit of a miracle.

Probably time for another check-up. Don't fucking tempt fate, eh?

More personally, old BPS has been head-down, arse-up, getting shit right'n'tight'n'untouchable as hell.

A chunk of good-sized land, some fruit trees on it, some wildlife, plenty of birds (including pheasants), plenty of places to fish. Still workin', of course. Enjoying life on my terms, at my pace. Not bothering much with chasing teh wimminz, they're full of greed'n'shit'n'drama.

Not bothering with most people actually. Most of the ones that you can meet are pretty-much useless, shit'n'drama types. The ones a bit like me, well, they tend to stay by themselves. You don't meet us much.

As to why to the getting it all done right - when you get to the point of being worth a couple million, a sensible person doesn't flash it around. 'Cause that attracts every money-hungry slag for a couple hundred kilometers. Claws crooked and grasping, the eternal whine of "pay attention to meeeee!".

Fuck that's shrill.

Since I don't like my ears raped with endless crying and whining and demands, and I especially don't want to be dealing with someone else's womb-turds - or getting trapped by someone who wants a womb-turd with me, so that they can control me (they think) - it's best to stay away from the non-professionals.

Like Steven Seagal said once: "You pay whores to go away." When you're done, of course.

Eventually the urges will all slow down. Hell, I'm pushing 56 - it's amazing that I don't need a bloody pill or something to perform. Of course, having them young'n'hot'n'different every time helps. They're new and you're not attached. Keep it thataways.

If you *must* do something long-term, make sure that she's:

1/ sane (hahahahah!)

2/ has something worthwhile besides tits'n'ass (aka money)

The very few times that I run into the inquisitive aka nosy bitches who want to evaluate if I'm worth being around I just laugh and shake my head at their questions.

For the guys, I just snort and say "I pay someone else's mortgage". Which is true enough, though the "someone else" is a Trust. I leave it at that. Not that I don't trust 'em, I simply know that teh wimminz will somehow worm the information outta the poor bastards. So if they don't know, they can't accidentally pass it on to some cunt on the prowl for her next victim.

I'm pretty-sure that a couple other guys get the idea. Preening your feathers for teh wimminz is a good way to end up as a plucked chicken. Which sure as fuck ain't enjoyable. Especially at my age.

Remember. Go and enjoy life, brothers. Don't be a plucked chicken.

For me, it's time to take a chainsaw and axe and chunk up a few deadfalls. Preparing for a nice fire on a winter evening and a good bottle of Grand Marnier - life doesn't get much better.

Black Poison Soul

Who's Pregnant Now?

An amusing anecdote that I overheard one of the girlz in the lunchroom talk about today.

Someone's sister called up their mom: "Guess what!"

Yup, I'm excited! I got newz!

Immediate response: "Who's pregnant now?"

You can feel the "here it goes again" sense of resignation in that question.

Which tells you volumes about the mother...the family she raised...and girl telling the anecdote.

"Who's pregnant now?" In a tone of resigned "again - alright, let's get it over with".

'Cause she's used to this sort of thing by now.

She expects it of all the children.

Pregnancy is no longer something to be celebrated in her mind. It's simply a signal of more family drama coming down the line, for the next few years probably.

"Who's pregnant now?"

Heheheheheh...

Rising Incompetence

Ah Aaron, so pricelessly put: Why IKEA Is The Future Of The US Economy.

I have been dealing with this myself - the rising idiocracy. Not that I consider myself smarter'n anyone else. I simply marvel at the stupidity of things that people do. As Aaron states in the linked post, it can only be because we're raising people to be lazy morons (which in cold fact appears to be true, given the rise of dipshit non-degrees and entitled cuntism).

As per my last post, ole BPS is looking into the currently-frothy BS aka New Zealand housing market. To put things in perspective: 12-14 years ago my current home cost about $300k and I got it freaking cheap then. I thought it was crackers then. Now I have over $200k cash - and looking at the housing market around here that's a fucking deposit.

First world problems, huh.

Anything really good around here is over the million-dollar mark, though I could of course shift to some economically-depressed shithole part of New Zealand. West Coast of the South Island, South Auckland, etc - though South Auckland (even though a shithole with people eternally renting and the neighbors screaming and ranting while living in each other's back-pockets) has grown way more expensive than it should be.

You can buy a big chunk of land in shitsville and get a damn good stone-and-tile home built. Yes, quarried stone blocks, tile roof, some decent landscaping, and enjoy working your gardens during your retirement. Of course, you're still living in shitsville with the fuckin' gangs and local Maori giving you the stink-eye 'cause you got fuckin' money bro and how much can we rip you off?

Economic depression coupled with unrealistic prices? Check. As Aaron puts it: there's no white picket fences around the homes in a decent neighborhood for people now. Though I'll admit that NZ towns have grown weirdly - you can go about 3 blocks from upmarket to shitsville, and another 3-4 blocks back to upmarket once more. It's weird. There's no better way that you can describe it.

So, rising incompetence. For something decent, look at the million-buck mark. If you're desperate, you can buy something around the $700k mark which has leaking-home issues. AKA it was built between 1995-2005 from non-tanalised timber, with "new" aka we-don't-actually-know-how-to-install-this-shit-but-it-sure-looks-good walls and roofs, and it leaks like fuck and rots out. To the point where the agent has a tarp in the middle of the lounge floor and is telling people to walk around it "because the roof leaked and it's rotted the floor out, it won't cost you much to replace".

Let's be clear: there has been a slow leak for years, which the owner knew about yet couldn't be arsed fixing, it's been dripping through into the lounge while the owner watches TV and screams at the kids to shut the fuck up and get me another fuckin' beer, but it won't cost you much to replace the floor.

What about all the timber framing and ceiling joists and shit that have rotted also? There comes a point where about all you can do is buy the place for the land and bulldoze it. You better have deep pockets.

From the Real Estate Agent aka worthless salesman: "The floor can be easily replaced." And someone buys it anyway. Fuuuuuuuck. Ollie Newland (a fairly famous NZ real estate guru) once described a rotting ceiling falling in on some people during dinner, rotting wood and fungal growth all over the dinner table. He wasn't kidding, that's the reality of some places.

So you have to look at the million-mark. For that kind of money it had better be fucking pristine. Even so you do the work, checking consents, getting building reports, getting an independent valuation. It all costs bucks and time and things have changed a shitload. You have to learn to look at all the Council records, interpret them, yourself.

The valuation seems to be really low here. What is going on? Then you notice that the valuer only counted X square meters of home, it's short about 70 square meters floor area. What the fuck? How could you miss a 7x10 meter chunk of floor? That's the size of an apartment.

So you send the valuer the Council records and say "hey, you've said it's X square meters, it's actually X + 70 square meters according to the Council".

"Oh, very sorry sir, we'll revalue it and get it to you this afternoon."

"Where did you get the original information from anyway?"

"The vendors gave it to us, it wasn't as clear as these you've sent us."

Hold the fucking phone.

These cunts are charging me over a thousand bucks to value a house. They go to the house, look it over, talk with the vendors aka sellers who hand them a packet of papers that they printed out on their shitty inkjet printer.

Because it was a shitty inkjet printer it's not clear/easy to read and the valuer accepted that as the source from which to do their valuation anyway.

Then when I queried it and sent my copy of the Council records the valuer then accepted that as the source from which to do their valuation.

The whole point of getting an "independent valuation" is for the valuer to independently check the source of truth - the Council records - directly and use those to make certain of an actual fair valuation taking into account the local market conditions.

It does not involve taking any documentation from the vendor/seller or the buyer because it's in the financial interest of both of those bastards to fucking lie.

Both the vendor/seller and I could have slipped anything into those packets of information that we handed over. Subverting the entire process and causing God-alone-knows-what to happen if either of us were found out.

Example: If I'd bought that property and then found out that the valuer accepted the vendor's information to make his valuation - I could (and fucking would!) sue the pants off the sonofabitch. Because they'd have done their job wrongly and potentially cost me hundreds of thousands.

Incompetence.

That pretty-much wraps up everything in a neat little package and puts a bow on it. Million-dollar property and some limp-dick does that.

It's 5am here. I have indeed had a couple of Grand Marnier's over the last two nights, while I laugh and marvel at the stupidity of people.

Brought to you by Crap Colored Glasses™, only $1k the pair - and very, very cheap at 10x the price.

Checking In

Black Poison Soul, checking in. Eyes, balls, brains - all here, all connected. Let us begin.

Many things have happened over the last six months. The big one: the Big C. For two members of my family. One survived. One died. We continue on.

Sometimes you run across people who have real soul. I ran across one. I have been helping him, in my small way. Not with marital/life problems - he don't need it. (At least, not so far as I know.) Helping him with a personal programming project of his. It has zip to do with the manosphere, so a nice break during an otherwise difficult time. He offered to repay me, I laughed. Some times, some things, you just gotta do what you gotta do, you know what I mean?

Looking back - eleven years. Definitely not to the freaking day, though I can't be arsed to look it up and all. Pretty sure it was this month though - February, my parasite removed. Kinda surprising.

What has changed?

Despite the difficulties of the last six months, not a lot has changed in developed attitude. Though there has been a lot of philosophical thought going on. Some planning done. Some things are more clear-cut. Some things are seen, in retrospect, as being damned-well worth it. Even though they hurt like hell at the time. Even though it's wading through shit and wondering why the hell you're doing it and all.

The learning experience wasn't easy. The experience itself though - far, far more worthwhile than gold. Being able to write about it too. Even if Google's shitbox reckons that I'm a far-right nutjob who would destabilize society et-fucking-cetera LMAO! Oh yeah, devoice BPS, who gives a fuck? This is more and better therapy than paying some high-charging asshole.

Looking around at the FUD - Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt - that is being spread by the media and politicians? Me destabilize society? Hah. 1984, V for Vendetta, in a nutshell. The Communist handbook of destabilizing a country, followed to a T. For the stupid serf parasites: enjoy your brainwashing. Your ancestors worked their guts out for you to be free. You weakly pissed it away. You are slaves now. Much deserved, enjoy sucking cock of the rich and powerful to get ahead.

For a little while.

I find it somewhat amusing. History is there, to be willfully ignored and destroy ourselves - an almost priceless joke. Sad, yet priceless in its' way. When you watch it happen...well, that's done and dusted, innit?

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I look back at what my ancestors did 2 generations ago. Only 2 generations. My grandfather and family went from England to Aussie, six months on a sailing ship, wife and two newborn kiddies. He was one of those poor suckers lied to and stolen from: "Yup, there's good land there - pay us X pounds and here's passage on a ship, there'll be good farmland when you arrive for you and your family to own and work on and grow stuff for yourselves." Poor fuckers. On arrival, welcome to the land of sand and snakes and spiders the size of your hand. Farmland? What fucking farmland?

Fuck me. Rude shock? Fuckin' aye!

He was one of those lucky bastards who managed to hop the family aboard a ship to New Zealand. Swamp and bush and rugged hills and bluffs up the Far North of the North Island. Breaking in the native bush, punga's and supplejack and kauri and manuka and swampy peat, turning it into good farmland. Slowly nursing a couple of cows into a small herd to sell the milk and some meat. Gut-wrenching work through WWI and WWII supporting the troops, bringing up 7 kids, and he died of a brain tumor.

More Big-C. Grandfather and Grandmother both. A hard pair, tough, yet it'll take them from ya. It kinda runs in the family - other members have died from it too, in various forms. Probably I'll die from it. Seem clean at the moment, you never know though: men have a higher chance of prostate cancer than wimminz do of breast cancer. Get it checked occasionally, y'know?

So. A hard pair. Not gutless in the slightest. If they'd stayed in England they'd have been serfs for the rest of eternity, which is what's happening to the remaining English anyways. Lords and Masters, and serfs and slaves. Bringing in the shitty parasites from other countries to screw up the serf/slaves even more, which is what joining the EU did to them as a whole. Brexit? Get a wriggle on hahahahah!

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So what can we, shall we say, retain for ourselves? Since most of society and das guberment seems hell-bent on taking it all from us. Some thought and philosophical bits of advice as it were...

Don't get too attached. To people, to money, to possessions. Of them all, people are the most important - yet life will take them away from you. I'm not saying be buddy-buddy with all and sundry, and fuck me I hate the people like that. Probably because I'm more the reclusive/antisocial type as it were. You'll find the occasional one with real soul though, and I'm glad to have one real close one in my brother and have run across a few others. Priceless people.

So, how to survive? There's two paths:

1/ Be a slave, own nothing, be a parasite.

2/ Get ahead, don't expect help from anyone (except maybe family) and don't let anyone else know.

That's right. Don't let anyone else know.

Practically of course, that's impossible. Someone is going to know. Lawyers and bankers, those fuckers and complete assholes. Of course, you pay them to keep their gobholes shut. Which if you're getting ahead, you can do.

Gubnermint, well you're fucked there. They will know everything. Unless you can go complete bush, go troppo as they say in Aussie (aka a little bit fucking mad), you're gonna be on das guberment's radar. You can't help that. Just keep your nose clean and your head down.

Wimminz...wimminz, wimminz, wimminz...don't own anything. Always be renting. And like how the fuck do you do that, if/when you're trying to get ahead? You get a home in a Trust, perhaps managed by someone you trust (hahah) and you act like all the rest of your liddle weeble fellow-slaves. Don't bother talking to 'em though - be the antisocial type.

So far as anyone knows you're just like everyone else, living hand-to-mouth and paying the fucking rent to some rich asshole. The difference is that you are quietly becoming the rich asshole. Call the trust something very innocuous ("IMF Trust" - "In Mala Fide Trust" - In Bad Faith Trust heh) and you pay rent into it every freaking week year-in, year-out. Especially after the house is paid off, you keep paying that fucking rent while the Trust goes and quietly gets another house. And another. Ain't nothing and nobody to say different.

If you *do* decide to retire early (after say 3-4 properties in the Trust) - nobody needs to know that either. You're just changing jobs. (To stay-at-home fisherman, and handyman, or antiques dealer, or whatever - you know it makes sense.) This is actually what my brother's in the process of doing, though he's stupid enough to tell people he's retiring. I'm thinking of suggesting that he "find other work". His current employers doesn't need to know that his new work is as a freaking landlord.

Maybe he mows lawns and does handyman work for a living, aka maintains his property. Hell, maybe he can actually do that on the grey market, under the radar, for the other old dears.

Best is that you're still under the radar to teh wimminz and other assorted maggots and parasites of what we will loosely call society.

I don't say avoid teh wimminz. You got needs, yah? If that's your way, that's your way - be careful, make sure not to get the wrong one preggers and all. Never lettum know you're rich as Croesus - never let that Camel get it's head in the damn tent. Little head should never override the big one, you know it. If you do accidentally latch up with one, you're still paying rent, only it's for fucking eternity now that you have wife and kidlets to provide for as well.

If by God you manage to actually find a halfway decent wimminz (few and far between, maybe 5% - 'cause it's statistically impossible for them all to be complete and utter shit and without redemption et-fucking-cetera) you're always, eternally, paying rent. Unless you happen to know without a doubt that she's got a boatload of stuff as well. In that case, your choice. Little head, big head, remember! Just take it fuckin' slow and all.

It would be a disaster if she turned out not to be as great as you thought. Your Trust will be broken up "for the good of the childreeeeen". Which if the bitch had never learned about it, the childreeeeen would have been well-taken-cared-of until well after your death. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren as well. Lemme draw you a picture:

* Every house that the Trust buys and rents out for more cashola etc will be theirs eventually. You're just a friggin' handyman hired to keep the things in decent shape.

* You can "help" organize the kids into a rental home for a long while, which if they fuck the place up aka cause damage to it you can by God ream their asses and "fix it up before the damn landlord finds out and evicts you stupid fuckers". And charge them for it out the wazoo as an extra lesson. 'Cause in this day and age, renting forever is about all that most people will be able to do. Especially if they have the massive student loans that is the whacked-out peculiar way of doing things these times.

* On your death, it'll be a nice little caring touch - showing you *actually* fucking care deeply for them and always did - when they learn that the house they've been renting has been their fucking inheritance all along. As well as a few more houses owned by the Trust, and a tidy fucking sum in cash and other assets, etc etc etc. None of it where anyone can get their sticky damn fingers into and spend like a sailor on shore leave.

* By that point nobody but nobody can break it all up "for the good of the childreeeeen" - 'cause the grandchildren have zero, zip, nada say in the whole bizness. Teh wimminz, if she survives you, will be cared for and cannot split anything out to fritter it away on dresses/handbags/shoes and running around "finding herself" aka chasing foreign cock. By that point she shouldn't fucking want to anyway, though some'a them are still bloody deluded and think they're God's gift to young men and young cock 'cause 50 is the new 30 for fucks sake.

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So there's a basic how-to. My brother and I are both following it, in our different ways: his kids and grandkids will be provided for anyways by him, and my stuff will go to them as well 'cause goodness knows I have no kids to be weaponized against me. Which sucks in a way. I guess that I'll have to spoil the fuck outta my grand-nieces and -nephews instead.

"Grand-Uncle! Stop spoiling the kids!" And I'll laugh my ass off 'cause I can. 'Cause in the end, family (so long as they're raised right) and people with soul are the only thing really worthwhile.

I ain't saying it's the only way to do things. At least you (I) will be well-cared-for in your (my) old age. And a helluva surprise for the extended whanau (family) as it were.

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There it is - BPS, still hanging in there. We Men survive and recover, generally no matter how grim things get. Being thoughtful, not pissing it all away, life is still very very good. And always getting better.

Almost in my position of Fuck You. Though I refuse to pull a dramatic Fuck You with work. That's juvenile, stupid stuff. Currently looking around in the crazy New Zealand housing market - frothy as hell here, especially in the last 3 months - for my next house to buy. So much leaky-home dogshit to wade through, ugh.

Still doing it though. 'Cause I'm damned if I'm going to be dependent upon someone else when I get older. I'm gonna enjoy my final years on my terms, a little travel, a little photography, a little Grand Marnier, and Fuck You to anyone who wants to deprive me of that.

Glasses high, brothers. To your health and life! - BPS

Big Country Back Again, Catching Up

Big Country is back out and blogging again, it's good to see. I strongly suggest that you check'm out, I'm gonna catch up over the next few days.

That said, some of his story is up in Charlie Mike Comix. I read a sneak preview of the first one before it was released. Powerful, powerful stuff. He has links to others over on his blog, check them out too.

This is real-world stuff. It's important. It's where real people bleed and die. Not the pap and horseshit that the general drama-maggot's and lefties and "newspaper hacks" seem to think is important.

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

I've been talking to people and learning stories. I can't post 'em all up - way too revealing - however I can boil down a couple of them. Should get them into shape over the next week or so.

It still surprises me sometimes, just how fucked up and stupid people can be. It's no wonder that I'm generally anti-fuckin'-social and all.

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

The Prime Stupid aka Jacinda Adern is really screwing things up around here. While heading off to the UN and delivering a 5-minute "stirring speech", according to the local leftist rags. (Highly important.)

Guns, guns, guns - hand in the guns you non-violent gun-owners, so that the violent mofo's who want to keep their guns can pull 'em outta the ground in a few years and shoot someone. Jesus. Some lunatics shoot a bunch of people and all the sane ones who have zero intent on murder, who are extremely serious gun owners (full E-Cat licence and all) have to hand in their AK's and similar.

Good, all-around weapons, buh-bye - we'll pay you less'n they're worth, if you don't like it we'll take 'em anyway and put you in jail. You non-criminal scum.

The sad thing is: legit gun collectors are getting shafted too. If you have a WWI or WWII collector's item that qualifies as "illegal" here in NZ, you gotta hand it over. Of course, you can get it disabled (ugh) - which completely wrecks their value, because part of the true value of a real collector's piece is that it needs to be pristine and usable (double-ugh).

Poor bastards. Can't import, can't export, and if you could export - nobody would want'm 'cause they've been disabled, they're now stuffed. You might as well melt'm down for the steel, they're worth more as that than as a collection piece.

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

Yes, I've been busy. A lot. (Way too much damn work...PC crapped itself...stuff to fix around the house...ah well, fix'r'up and have another sip of Grand Marnier...)

Speaking of fixing stuff, I've been doing some general work around the house. Mostly bricklaying, old recycled bricks into some rough paths and steps. It's been decades since I've done it - the skills are still there, even if rusty as fuck.

Have a had a helluva cold-weather snap this week. Desert Road (in NZ) closed 'cause of snow. Early spring I guess, not that usual though.

So, a warm fire - a gutful of curry - and a glass of Grand Marnier for you-all. It's time to go read.

Pissed Her Life Away

Soooo, here in Kiwi-land we have the usual suspects.

The Prime Twat has to be seen to be doing something about shootings. Solution: Change the law so that people have to hand in their guns. Which criminals and potential nutcase shooters sure as fuck ain't gonna be doing.

Ebola. Ebola. Ebola. Holy shit. Someone trying to cull the herd or something?

I haven't worried too much about things recently. Work tries to Pile it Higher and Deeper (PhD). Just nod, smile, and laugh inside as others drag the chain on shit. Close to six months of dealing with governmental slowness and stupidity - someone is milking the system big-time.

Me, I can't be bothered pushing on a rope.

Every Friday we get together for a lunch, it's very cool. Best is when there is no wimminz around - the real talk happens instead of the fluffy dogshit that teh wimminz lurv lurv lurv to talk about.

Today's was a beaut. Just the two of us. We got to comparing ex-wives situations with our own. Fucking awesome eye-opener.

Him, weeeeell, he's got his mortgage back. His finances under control. Adding to his collection of motorbikes. Him and his lawyer went through everything, about all he has is an older car - everything else is owned by a Trust. On paper, he's a fucking pauper.

Her, she's got a house and mortgage. She's had to rent part of it out to her boyfriend and his teenage girl kids - which is fucking weird by itself. The boyfriend has nothing, two teenager girls tearing the place up. A beat-up car belonging to the boyfriend is on the lawn, her car is broken down and on the lawn. Looks like trailer-trash central.

The difference between my mate and his ex: he can go out and do shit, she's living hand-to-mouth and fucking her live-in rent-paying boyfriend who has two teenage girls - one of which is not his.

Very similar situation in comparison with me and my ex-wife. Fuckin' striking.

Retirement-wise, he was originally planning to retire around 55 - now it'll be 60-odd. Me, I was originally planning to retire around 50 - now it'll be 60-65. Unfortunate.

Then we look at what the exes are doing. Ho-lee-fuck. If they'd stuck with us:

* his wife would have been on easy-street instead of hand-to-mouth pauperdom

* my wife would have been retired at 38 and traveling the world with me, instead of hand-to-mouth pauperdom

Thinking about it, my brother and his ex-wife are much the same. He's doing damn well. She's living hand-to-mouth.

These women have simply pissed their lives away.

Basically fucked themselves and their lives beyond repair. ('Cause there aren't many 50 Shades of Shit millionaires to "rescue" their shitty asses from their bad choices.)

Gentlemen. If you happen to become divorced - hold on tight. Because within 10 years, you will almost certainly be back on track.

And she will still be fucked.

On a cold winter evening, in front of a fire, I raise a glass of warmed Grand Marnier to you, my brothers. Live well!

TGI Friday - "You're not fucking listening!" Edition

Normally it's women getting pissed at men for not listening.

Turnabout's a bitch!

One of the guys at our regular TGIF - reasonably red-pilled man, though he doesn't think directly in those terms - had himself a little "situation" with his woman recently. He was pissed off enough to tell it to us at lunch.

Note: "his woman" - he sneers at the term "girlfriend" ("we ain't teenagers") or "partner" ("pathetic neutral bullshit"). She's his woman, he's her man, even if they aren't married - which isn't looking likely.

He got sick for a couple days ("dodgy vindaloo").

Well, his woman got all concerned about this - even though he's telling her that he's okay. See, he's one of the types who just want to be left alone when sick. He knows he'll be alright. He has it under control. Just "hi, yes I'll be right, seeya" type of man.

She got so worried ("concerned") about him that she stepped well over the line of what he considers acceptable behavior towards him. I'm not going into details - though I laughed my ass off when I heard. When he's sick, he sure as fuck don't want to be bothered by anyone. I'm surprised he even talked to her - must like her a lot.

Any rate, when she realized what she'd done (stomped all over his boundaries) she got all contrite and teary: "I'm sorry! Please forgive me honey!" And shit like that.

When I heard that I laughed and said to him: "I'm surprised. It's usually men who have to come out all apologetic and shit like that. Once it happens the bitch'll never let you live it down, either." The whole lot of us laughed 'cause it's so true.

As he said though: he got really pissed because she wasn't listening. Not listening and respecting her man.

Which is ironic, because it's usually women bitching about men not listening and respecting them. Of course, as per above, in her case she'll remember it until your deathbed. Assuming she stays that long.

Any rate, he's basically turned the same behavior as women back on her. Accidental dread game, turnabout is fair play. He reckons that she's sure as shit very contrite at the moment.

Even he says though: that's a pretty good red flag right there, someone stomping right the fuck over all your very-clearly-put boundaries.

Stomping all over another mans' boundaries is excuse for a severe ass-kicking. (These days, more likely to be legal action - or if it's pathetically small "just take it like a wuss".)

When a wimminz feels her boundaries are stomped all over, she gets bitchy and whiny about it for forever, and she tells everyone socially about it too. You are mud, mud, mud forever and a day.

Well, the same for a wimminz who stomps the fuck all over your boundaries - it's time for a severe ass-kicking bitch. (Literal or metaphorical, your choice. Though as we know, a literal ass-kicking can get you into jail a fuckton faster than your nightmares - so metaphorical is best, and be prepared to walk away too. Or maybe just walk away, it might be easier.)

To you my man, I raise a glass of Grand Marnier. May you live long and well! And the same to all of you, my brothers!

Me! Me! Me! Me! Me!

"What about me?"

Eh what?

"It isn't fair!"

Who the fuck are you and why should I care?

"I did what I was taught!"

You mean told, 'cause you followed someone else's script.

"I should have gotten X!"

Let me laugh at you for believing the con-man.

"Whyyyyyy...." <crying>

Idiot.

<more crying>

Meh. Fuckwit.

"I'm going to do more!"

Sure.

"Why don't you care?!"

Humph.

"I want to be married."

Tats. Piercing. Tits sagging to the floor. Fucked weird hair. Giving everyone the finger. Taken it up the ass. Several threesome/foursomes. Had a gangbang. All checks out - you're exactly everything I want to be with.

"Why don't you pay attention to me?"

Who are you.

"I want a baby."

Hah.

"You should pay for my IVF."

Of course.

"Whyyyyyyy am I all alone...!"

Fuck that's shrill.

"You're selfish!"

Pot. Kettle. Black.

"Listen to meeeee...!"

I'm'a go do something interesting and meaningful and worthwhile.

"Me me me mememeeee...!"

<disappearing into the distance>

Forget Why

Why is irrelevant.

Do you get that? Completely irrelevant.

There is no rational why.

I remember back to the ending "conversation" with my last girl, must be close to three years ago now. ("Conversation" hah! She turned up at an awkward time of night, barged in, and was basically being a self-centered bitch on the whole instead of leaving me alone when I made it clear that I wasn't interested any more.)

I got her the hell out of my home in the guise of "dropping her off to her hotel". She asks if she'll be seeing me again.

Me: No.

Her: Why not?

Me: I don't want to.

Her: Finish that sentence! (A quite loud'n'clear self-centered "I am entitled to know why!")

Me: I don't want to see you again. (Yeah, it's a total lack of interest, now stay the fuck away.)

Her face scrunches up and she heads away to her room, probably because I shattered her heart'n'soul. I leave, not caring at all.

Yes, teh wimminz would call me a fuckin' psychopath. Given what she did to me, there was no interest left on my side. That is my "why" for treating her like that.

Yet still. There is no "why" in life.

There is only: I want to X/I don't want to X.

I want to see you again. I don't want to see you again.

I want to fuck you again. I don't want to fuck you again.

I want to read that book again. I don't want to read that book again.

I want to see that movie again. I don't want to see that movie again.

I want to continue hanging around those people. I don't want to continue hanging around those people.

Why? I can come up with a million "reasons" for "why". They're not relevant. Not really. The "why" is just the brain attempting to provide a rational reason of some type. A rational reason for an internal emotional reaction.

Essentially it boils down to: I want to / I don't want to. The rest of the palaver is just social self-justification and face-saving.

In the guts of it, the want-to/don't-want-to is an emotional inner reaction, not something intellectually reasoned out. Not in the guts of it.

She wants to fuck you. She doesn't want to fuck you.

She wants to fuck you again. She doesn't want to fuck you again.

Why do you care why? Why do you want to know why?

Forget why. There is no why. There is only a gut-basic reaction, a feeling, of: "I want to / I don't want to".

She wants a boyfriend. She doesn't want a boyfriend.

She wants to be married. She doesn't want to be married.

She wants to be married to you. She doesn't want to be married to you.

She wants to part her legs for you. She doesn't want to part her legs for you.

Even when the basic "I don't want to" shatters her/your soul. And you, or her, start going down down down the rabbit-hole of emotional turmoil and horseshit.

>>>> Why?!?!?!!!! <<<< Add insistent whiny brat emotional crap as appropriate. You and/or her both.

There is no why. Down at the core, it just fucking is.

Make me want to, rather than not want to. Teh wimminz, leftists, femiwhores, the unwashed mass of generally shitty people on the whole, will never truly grasp that. Make me want to, rather than not want to.

Being a complete cunt is not making me want to X. It makes me not want to X. Fill in the X with whatever is appropriate.

Summertime in New Zealand. I'm starting to do more outdoor stuff.

Why? I want to. There may be many "reasons". They all boil down to: I want to.

Deep down in the guts of it. It's an emotional thing. There's no real reason as such for it. That's why.

You Talk Too Much - TGI Friday Edition

Most times something interesting comes out of our TGI Friday. (Guns, wimminz, hunting, customers, archery, bikes, camping, surfing, life - all sorts of stuff that I don't share on here). We had a goodie this Friday though: guy finally got (aka paid) his ex the fuck out of his home (it took 3-4 years?!?!?! and cost you how much in the end?!?!?! fuck me...)

When she's out of his life, last few bits of driving her shit around, just to make sure it's the fuck out and etc. She starts jawing and jabbering about her family shit. "So and so brother's, sister's, husband's, second cousin..." blah blah fucking blah.

He had a moment of sanity. As he said to us: "Hey. You walked the fuck away from me. I don't know why you want to tell me this crap. This is no longer relevant to me. Not interested."

Object lesson right there on getting her the fuck out of yours ASAP when things go south. Otherwise you're still wasting time, energy, life on someone who has basically said "I don't want you between my legs, piss off..." yet she is quite happy to suck the rest of everything out of you.

The actual words and excuses she used don't matter. They are meaningless. She still wants out of your life...

...and you're still wasting your time, energy, life on that. Until you realize.

You ain't related to it.

You ain't married to it.

You ain't best buddies with it. (Fucking aye you ain't best buddies with it! What, you nuts?)

You shouldn't have it in your life any more. It's just another leech on you.

Literally a leech. Still sucking down your time, energy, life.

When what you really want to do is what he's doing. Makes his dinner in the skillet. Eats out of the skillet. Cleans up and puts it in the rack. Life is simple, life is great.

Nice, simple, easy, not 15 separate pots per meal for something that really tastes only mediocre. Then she bitches about how long a day she's had etc. That doesn't actually matter. Not to you. You just want a decent, filling, tasty meal. Here she's put 15 separate pots into the sink, is bitching about cleanup (trying to get you to do it), and she asks the loaded question: "What'd you think of dinner?"

You can be the tactless "complete asshole" and say "it was okay". Because that's all it was. It was an okay meal.

You learn not to do that if you're married. You *know* what she'll be like for the next month - and intermittently for the rest of your life, whenever she feels like being a bitch.

So you grit your teeth, praise the meal to the skies, then go over to her and hug and kiss her and guide her to the couch and sit her down and clean the goddamn 15 pots that she messed up. Funny, this one looks like all she did with it was boil water. Better not mention that.

Yet hang on man.

She doesn't want you between her legs. Piss off.

By all means, be as stupid as you want. I'll continue to laugh at you for bein' a fuckin' dipshit.

The longer it takes you to wake up, the harder I'll be laughing at you once you get it together.

Yes, I know that's crushing your soul. So? Do you really have any actual, valid reason for being such a completely stupid idiot?

I didn't think so.

Do I *actually* enjoy your pain? Fuck no!

I am gonna laugh at you though. The more that my laughter hurts you, the harsher the lesson. Which is really all that I can honestly do for you. Drive that lesson home into your heart, rub salt into it, and make you hurt so badly that you will never forget that hurt which was done to you.

By me? You know better. You did it to yourself. You let *her* do it to you. You're just too chickenshit to admit it to yourself.

Back to him. He's been dating around. As I guess many do, when divorce hits us. Conditioned to have a wimminz in our lives, come hell or high water...

...except that these wimminz are expecting to go out. All the time. "What are we going to do this Friday night?" she asks him. "Eh. The weather's not that great. I think I'll have myself a nice bourbon on lemon ice, sit in front of the fire with a book, relax and read for the night." Sounds good to me. To her though: "What what what what what?"

And she completely cannot understand it. The concept of actually stopping, relaxing, doing something quietly - it means nothing to her. It's meaningless. She has to be *out there*, *being seen*, *doing something* - all that social shit that in her mind means "a good time".

As he says: he'd rather sit in front of a nice fire, sipping bourbon, reading a good book. The drama and insanity can stay out of his door. He's got his shelter, warmth, a good-tasting drink, and some interesting and thoughtful mental stimulation.

He's starting to realize the joys of personal peace and quiet.

Not hanging around with someone who talks too fuckin' much. Especially about utterly meaningless drivel.

Brother, have a bourbon. You've earned it. Good on you for starting to realize what life actually *is* to you, versus what other people *think life is* and *think your life should be*.

In Your Face

A few weeks ago I noticed some younger bloke driving a car with a number plate that essentially stated: No fucks given.

While I applaud the sentiment, something about it has nagged me. Quite a bit. My brain being slow at times, it has taken a while to figure out what was bugging me.

Actually, he does give a fuck. It's straight there in the "in your face" attitude that he's displaying to the world. Which is all cool and all, that's his thing. At least he's up front about it.

It occurs to me though: a true "no fucks given" attitude doesn't feel the need to slam it out in the world's face. A true no fucks given attitude just goes off and does what it wants. It doesn't require telling others about it (essentially, angrily giving the world the finger).

It just buggers off and does what it wants. If you don't like it, so what? You're not relevant. Certainly not to me. Stop poking your nose into my business, my life, my thoughts. Just leave me be and we'll get along swimmingly.

Which is I believe what the disappearing types of MGTOW do. They're doing their own thing. They don't have the urge to tell others what they're up to. They don't care about those others - the others are simply not relevant to them.

Which is an interesting thought when it comes to much of the Manosphere community and MGTOW. I've noticed it over the last three-four years. Some people become...

...less communicative...

...and eventually disappear.

They're slowly growing to the true point of no fucks given. While they might have philosophical thoughts about the subject, there is no urge to pass those thoughts on. It's just internalised and acted upon in the way they see fit.

I've noticed it with Hawaiian Libertarian. He's off doing his own thing, there's almost no interest in letting others know. (I applaud that by the by. I hope that he's doing well.)

I see Aaron Clary, Captain Capitalism, still putting up examples and the like of social stupidity. There is still much anger and frustration in him, in many of us. Somehow, I think that if he starts changing to a true viewpoint of no fucks given, he will slowly and quietly disappear from the scene. Good luck to you, Aaron.

I've noticed it a bit myself since my holiday in America. Something about the silence and being away by myself for a month has seeped into me. Maybe lodged itself into my soul, for want of a better metaphor.

A slow point of reassessment? I am unsure.

The stupidities of the world, society, and people are still there. I still look at them and marvel at times.

In the end though ... No real fucks are given. It's too big, it's too stupid, it's too sheeplike, it's too self-destructive. I refuse to stand in the front of the stampede, screaming warnings, only to be crushed into a bloody pulp.

Ghosting? No. I like many things about the world. There are many places to visit, many people who are actually worthwhile to meet (damn it, I missed out talking with Big Country in person - there is a Man with a fuck-ton of life and experiences!), many things that I find interesting.

Just not the damn social lemmings charging headlong over the cliff. Dull, uninteresting, bland. The sooner they are over that cliff and gone, the better.

I don't really have much of a point to this post. I suppose that it's a kind of explanation and apology of why I've not been around much.

I do strongly suggest, though: get yourself some camping gear and go bush for a while, even if it's just driving around the tourist traps and staying in hotels and camping grounds. Try to keep interacting with people to a minimum.

Talking and yap-yap with the useless types can be your enemy these days. Seek the more interesting people who have actually lived and have stories to tell. Especially the older people. Even if you have nothing to tell in exchange, they are giving you the gift of experience to listen and learn from.

Something about doing that changes your mindset. You start to realize what actually is relevant, what is needed, what is useful, and what is pure garbage.

Then you can work on purging the garbage.

I am still around and do check back fairly often. Just not huge on the talking at the moment. Maybe the urge will come back, not sure.

Be well, Brothers.

Class, Dignity, Respect

Class, dignity, and respect.

Three things that this laughable excuse of a Western society loves to shit on. Especially that of Men, of course.

Why is this?

Let's start a trip down this little rabbit-hole and see where it leads us.

Looking at teh wimminz in general with a skeptical eye, a good number enjoy mucking men around. It helps them weed the Men from the boys, soyboys, pathetics, pussy-panderers, etc. For certain types of wimminz this of course is great from an entertainment point of view, plus lets them know who they can soak for $$$$ and favours.

Teh feminazis and similarly inclined ilk - who have no real power, so they scream until we throw them a bone to shut them the fuck up - get their feelz of empowerment from the process. Winner winner chicken dinner for them.

Looking at the Left, these wiperags love doing it as a power-trip. It makes them feel personally strong and empowered to tear others down. Bonus points for successful trolling aka getting someone to lose their shit. The more public the anger/humiliation reaction the better. PJEAR MAH IMPORTANTS!!!

In common, all three are doing it for the ego/power feelz.

In common, all three appear to be running on emotional highs.

In common, all three are essentially powerless.

So effectively, this behaviour is the powerless screaming and thrashing and throwing monkey-poo at everything in sight in an effort to gain the power that they lack.

So what can we Men do about this behaviour?

Unfortunately not much - directly. There are a lot of them and few of us. Further, we Men appear to have a lone-wolf mentality when things go wrong for us. We go and lick our wounds, heal, learn from the experience, and come back stronger. Determined to not let that, or similar, happen to us again. Assuming that we survive, of course.

We also don't oppose this type of warped herd behaviour as such very well, which when you think about it makes some sense. When a stampede is heading your way you don't stand in front of it, shouting and trying to get it to stop. You'll get stomped into a bloody mess. You get the fuck out of the way and let it go run over the cliff like the lemmings they are, sucks to be them.

The social herd is sure as hell in full-on-stupidity-stampede mode. The damn lemmings are heading straight for the cliff's edge, hell-for-leather and damn the bloody torpedos.

Out of self-preservation, we need to get the hell out of the way and leave them to it. Realistically it's all we can do. Once the stampede is done - and it's going to be a long time - if we're lucky, we can pick up the pieces once the dust clears. If we're very lucky, we'll have managed to keep our nearest and dearest safe.

Good luck out there.