Wounded By Life

Over here in the States I heard about a military man - the father of a friend's female friend. A Marine, apparently quite hardcore.

He's had a stroke of some type, which has impaired his mobility severely. He's pissed about it - really pissed - and taking out his frustrations on the family around him. Mostly swearing a lot, not actually physically abusive. "Mother-fuckng..." and etc. Quite hard on them.

Getting to be an older bastard myself, with my body starting to pack it in a touch, I can understand and sympathise with him.

It sucks when you can't do what you used to be able to do. When you were improving in life. Especially must suck when it happened so suddenly. Must be hella frustrating for a former Marine type.

Wish that I could say to him:

"Sir, you have been sorely wounded by life. I can understand. Yet you still have a mission to complete, and making it harder for others in that mission is counterproductive. Both for you and them."

That's about all I could say. Hell, it probably wouldn't help him and his, either.

Is there a point to this post? I'm not certain. Maybe something along the lines of: Try not to make the shit that happens to you worse by your actions.

What would I know though? I've not been through anything like that.

Take care all. - BPS

Awesome Form II

Dialled up to eleven again, yessiree!

Last night in LA, going for a walk because it's coolish and I need some exercise.

A wimminz on the corner a half-block away.

Full-throated screaming and ranting into the cellphone. As in, holding it in front of her and screaming full-throated at it, even bending over in the process. (Kinda fuckin' weird actually.)

Seems that she needed a ride from an eeeevil menz type. Maybe she asked and he declined. Maybe she went straight for the throat from the get-go. (Being a biased fucker, I tend to think the latter. Plus I can't see how a simple request could degenerate that badly to screaming and ranting.)

"I'm right on the fucking corner, you can't fucking miss me!"

Correct, you crazy bitch. I can't miss you at all. Nor will I ever. In fact, I thank my lucky stars that your crazed cuntiness is not in my life at all.

Holy Jesus, You gave Your life on the Cross to forgive this craziness? Sometimes, killing it with fire sounds like the better choice.

(Blasphemy, I know - I'm already going to Hell, so never mind.)

Thankfully: Not my circus, not my monkeys. Though my warped sense of humour gets a great deal of entertainment from watching this.

Gentlemen: grow some fucking balls. Preferably some nice big bastards, about the size of bowling balls and made of stainless steel.

Soyboys: keep it up. You can interact with these crazies for all eternity with our blessings. Just keep their craycray the fuck away from the more normal (and sane) people like us.

Getting ready to fly. - BPS

Opinions are like assholes...

It's interesting to talk with the Americans here as I've been traveling through the states. Inevitably one question that comes up is: "What does New Zealand think of Trump?"

When I'm with obvious Right-leaning people or military types I simply said: "While a bunch of NZers are fairly leftist, my personal leaning is towards Trump. I sure as shit don't think that Hillary would have been a good choice at all." They've all agreed, one even showed me a video of Hillary spazzing out. (Which is pretty damn freaky right there - how the fuck did she get to be a candidate? What on earth is wrong with the Democrats, to put that out there?)

When I'm with Left-leaning people (or types that I can't determine) I've been more neutral and said stuff like: "It didn't seem like you guys had many choices. Hillary didn't seem like a very good candidate at all." Which from the leftists has elicited some interesting responses.

A lot of them seem to be really pissed that Bernie Sanders was essentially shafted by his own party. A couple stated flat-out that he was thrown under the bus by his own. Those became an interesting conversation, trying to figure out why the hell Hillary was chosen over Sanders. Even the leftists were not thrilled by her.

I get the impression that if Sanders hadn't been shafted, instead had been supported, things would be very different. Trump would likely not have gotten in. (Just a personal impression, and what the hell do I know...)

Another interesting thing is when eating and listening to talk-radio in some leftist yuppie cafe (gay vegan soyboy lattes FTW hahahah!). Trump is selling out the states, he should be impeached, blah blah fricking blah.

Which simply makes me remember the old adage: Opinions are like assholes...everyone's got one.

Including me, of course. The difference (in my opinion, at any rate) is that I know that I'm a biased, opinionated asshole.

I also don't have any delusions that:

1/ what I say matters

2/ what I say is correct

3/ any of my input would be of any real value to the process

I'm totally down with that, which lets me be somewhat amused and detached about the whole thing. Besides, it's kinda funny to see the leftists spazz out schizophrenically about the whole thing.

One last night in LA, before my flight back to Aussie and then New Zealand. Relaxing, chilling out, almost done.

I will have to come back and take another million photographs one day. At least I got to meet with and talk with some interesting people. Including, strangely enough, some people from New Zealand. Small world.

I find that I especially enjoy the military people. Maybe it's because their realism matches in some weird way with my general bloody-mindedness and skepticism re the bullshit which goes on in the world. God knows, I'd never make it in the military myself: I'd likely be insubordinated out within 24 hours.

Tomorrow, I will be flying for a bit under 24 hours. Back to 3C (36F?) temperatures and wintertime in New Zealand.

I shoulda found myself a MAGA hat while I was in flyover country. Damn, bit late now.

Catch ya's later. - BPS

Twisted Obsessions

It has never ceased to amaze me, the hamsterbations of the female mind. You'd have thought that I'd'a learned by now, yet they can still surprise me.

So here I am in America, I do talk with people. Mostly the older set, because they are actually interesting (astronomers, a guy who was in the NASA space program, engineers who built missiles, an ex-army man who was involved in the Titan II missile biz). Very interesting people.

I don't bother with the younger ones. The males're more interested in making money and showing it off so that they can get their dick wet. The females are brain dead followers of the Karshitdians and whatever loopy drama they can stir up in their lives (a weird thing by itself). The things that us old farts kinda look down on...

Youth, their heedlessness makes me feel old and fuckin' crusty.

Yet for really twisted obsessions, the older females seem to be tops. This is both in NZ and America. Probably the rest of the world too, I have no real personal experience of that though.

The number of older wimminz this past three weeks. They learn that I'm single, the first thing that pops out of their mouths is: "We need to get you a girlfriend." With the obvious "you need to be married" bullshit at a deeper level of meaning in their words.

Yep, like that's gonna happen. I'm picking that Hell will achieve negative Kelvin first.

Of course, being a single man with some spare $$$ to enjoy himself with, that's a straightforward combination of threat/opportunity for wimminz. Can't let him run around loose - he'll wake up the other plantation slaves. Besides, he's got $$$ that some woman isn't sucking dry.

This situation cannot be borne!

So I've had the fortune (aka pain in the ass) of having wimminz making ominous rumbling noises in my direction. All being attempts to curtail my freedom, disguised as "opportunities" to "get a good wimminz in my life" aka become host to a pathetic class of parasitic fuckin' leech.

When I say pathetic, I mean definitively past it. Not to say that some of these wimminz ain't good-looking for chicks in their fourties and fifties. (MakeApp. Use it. Even on the older ones - no, especially on the older ones!) A couple of them would have been real stunners in their twenties.

They're still single/divorced and looking though, which immediately clues you in to the fact that they just couldn't manage one of three things:

1/ choose the right type of man to start with (he was abusive)

2/ stick with the man they'd chosen for more than a decade or so (she got bored)

3/ find the right type of man in the first place (too busy blowing and riding those musical cocks on the carousel)

Yet at this age they are stuck with the weirdest idea that they're still God's gift to men plus still have that twisted obsession with getting married again. He'd better have a giant cock as well. As if the fuckin' world owes it to them or something.

'Scuse me, Martha. You ain't all that. Go squat on your purple cactus for a while.

Because I ain't giving up my freedom for some worn-out loose cunt that's already shat out three watermelons aka womb-turds to multiple men, and is incapable of having any more. There's only downside, no upside atall (having kiddies for the next generation is the only upside, and not much of one these days with frivorce and the weaponisation of the kiddies against the father).

So on the whole: she shoulda planned better and stuck with her "starter marriage" - a term that needs to burn in hell, along with all wimminz who think that way.

That said, there have been a couple of wimminz who knew that I'm from New Zealand and there was no hope of any relationship and who still made some determined moves on me. Perhaps it's because I'm in reasonable shape for a 52yo, perhaps they just wanted some "exotic" foreign dick, perhaps they really thought that I'd change my mind after "sampling" their "wares".

Like I said to someone: I didn't come here looking for some pussy. All it'd take is a false rape accusation and *wham* BPS is in jail for 6-8 months, game and life over man. Supremely fucked.

Though I'll admit that it's fuckin' hard at times, when a halfway-decent-looking (MakeApp, MakeApp, MakeApp) specimen is skilfully putting the moves on you (plenty of practice, that one). I'm not a fuckin' stone, aye. The $$$ that I have is a magnet that's sometimes hard to hide, the temptation is there when they determinedly make all the effort...

Bought to you from the back-bed of an RV up near Grand Canyon. By myself, driving the wimminz en-masse mad because I'm single. Just remember that rawdogging the roadwhore is a supremely bad idea, no matter how tempting...so don't let the camel get its head in the tent door.

White Noise

Have you ever noticed that teh wimminz just can't shut their fuckin' gob?

Everything that happens that might be the slightest upsetting is broadcast to all and sundry. Ad nauseum. To the fuckin' world. Most especially if it's to the detriment of a man.

It reminds me very much of No-Ma'am and The Fine Art of TV Repair.

I ran across a textbook case last night, actually. (Here in America, of course. The break is going well.) This is not to say that it only happens in America - I've seen (heard) it in New Zealand too. England. Thailand. Not personally in Australia, though I see no reason why there would be an exception.

How it came about. I went and parked my RV up at a place called Grindstone Lake, near Ruidoso NM. A nice area, reminds me of the pine forests back in NZ. It's an artificial lake actually, a dam where people can go picnic, fish, swim, etc. Also walk and mountain bike, with lots of trails. Something that I desperately need: the heat has been limiting my walking exercise, I'm literally putting on weight just because of not enough movement.

I go to start my walk, there turns out to be a wimminz in awesome form in the parking lot. Not fine form - awesome form. Dialled up to eleven.

Sittin' in the truck with the door wide open.

Full-throated bitching on the phone to someone else.

When I say full-throated, I mean looooud. I was over 30 meters away (think 30 yards, almost a third of a football field away). I could hear her plain as day.

"Reeeeereereeeeeee I'm fucking stressed out reereeeeereeereerereee I'm fucking sick of it this's got to stop rereeeeeeeererereeeeeee four more fucking days of this shit reeeeeeeeee....!" All of it with that nasty little cutting undertone that bitches can have when they're really going to town.

I turned my head and looked at her as I was walking past. Pretty good looker, IMO - for a mid-thirties bitch. Long legs, blond hair, good shape, and what probably would have been a delicately pretty face if she wasn't twisting it into the shape of her fucked-up emotional/mental state. Looked like a vicious harpy (though maybe that was prejudice on my part).

I kept walking while checking her out pretty damn obviously. She suddenly realised when I was about 5 meters (yards) away and made a lame excuse and hung up. Probably my face showed some of my disgust and she finally picked up on it - took her long enough, I was blatant as hell with the checking her out.

Goes to show: no matter how sexy as fuck she might be, someone somewhere is fed up with her bullshit.

Kept on walking. Good walk around the lake, maybe two miles - sure felt it, being out of shape, though.

Cheers,
BPS

Victory and Defeat

Damn. So here I am over in America - land in Los Angelos, intending to catch up with a man in Florida, and cousins up in Canada, and see as much as possible while I'm driving on the way and back. I'm driving an RV.

A week has gone past. I'm in Big Bend country, down Alpine Texas. Holy fuck, I thought that I'd be in Florida by now. I forgot how damn huge you guys are. Haven't been over here at least ten years, completely forgot. (Strong winds and routing around a fire here in Texas didn't help. Friday was ten hours driving, a few breaks. Sheeeiiit, I'm feeling like a dumbass. And exhausted.)

So I call the Florida man up, I can't just not show. Completely not fucking cool to do that to someone. "Hello, is that XXX?" "Who is this?" "It's Black Poison Soul."

We spent a few minutes jawing and I let him go back to his evening with family and all. Got to hear each other's voice, I made the effort. It's lame to say, really wanted to get there. I was just dumb. Will most probably yack with him again in the next two-three weeks.

Then called up my cousin in Canada - voicemail - damn, left a lame-ass message.

Feel like a fuckin dipshit.

Next time I'll just fly to where I wanna check out, hire a car, go see the local history and scenery and hike and stuff. You could probably spend a month in each state - I hope you Americans really take advantage of it. You have so much to go look at and do.

I'm gonna have to fly to Florida next year sometime. Do it the smart way. This time, defeated by reality.

-------------------------------

So a quick check back with family in NZ, and friends on FaceCrap. My mate who married the hairdresser has changed all his man-shit profile stuff to wedding photos.

Sad. You once had large, plentiful balls, man. Now you've pussified yourself, and the look on her face - that you obviously can't see - is so fuckin smug with victory.

It's like my balls also winced in sympathy with him.

You know when you see another man kicked in the nuts? Your balls just clench in sympathy?

That feeling.

Stick a fork in him. He's done.

I would have a glass of Grand Marnier in memory...like, in remembrance for a dead mate...only that stuff is back in New Zealand. I'll have to do it when I get back.

Peace...driving. (Tomorrow.)

Your Silence is Mandatory and Enforced

Given the "soft censorship" going on these days on Google, YouTube, and everywhere else - I decided to see if I had been softbanned. (The BlackPoisonSoul account.)

I went over to Terrence Popp's YouTube and popped up an appropriate comment (to the video). After a couple days I went back to check any replies.

Hmmm. Top of the list when signed in as BPS...yet not visible at all when not signed in. No likes, dislikes, whatever.

Yep. Softbanned. The very definition.

Your silence is mandatory, unwilling, and enforced.

Those who do not exhibit the signs of perfect groupthink will be made invisible to all others. Even other misanthropes, misfits, and deplorables like themselves. After all, we must protect those virgin minds our brainwashed serfs from any hint of anything that might possibly have a snowballs' chance in hell of making them unhappy.

Reality be damned. Wrap them all in cotton wool, so that they will only think/feel/act in ways that we determine to be predictable and useful.

By the time the misery has finally sunk its teeth into them, we will have extracted every last drop of utility from them. Even the juice is now gone. They can go into the dumpster with the rest of the deplorable waste. Because we already got our pound of flesh, down to the last drops of blood possible.

That is why I believe that this blog will eventually disappear. Not overtly. They'll probably leave it in an empty echo-chamber, with no links from nor visibility to the rest of the net.

It's just the insane rantings of another deplorable lunatic. Best to hide them from the rest. We don't want to cause them pain by letting them view such disturbing things.

Let's just obscurify it. Drop it a touch, reduce it's ranking a hair...a hair more...a hair more still...okay, now we can throw it into the list of "never show this shit"...

...job done. On to the next one. There's this other fucking lunatic over here...the list of crazy off-script bastards never ends...

So, still, keep a copy of what you want to keep. Off-line. Preferably in some non-volatile storage. Hard copy, if you must. After all: lots of copies keep stuff safe.

You never know when things might become more zealous. The feminasties and leftidroids and assorted SJW/PC Police keep pushing, and pushing, and pushing. It would only take a few manufactured incidents, then suddenly "let's make things self-policing" becomes the mindset. At which point, a certain number of complaints about this person and his things will vaporize.

Because when you think about it, our modern computerized world has one massive disadvantage that the ancients never had. It's real easy to erase something permanently.

When it's chiseled in stone, it's pretty-much forever. Wish that I could laser-etch it into fused quartz in my basement, however that's a bit beyond the readily-available technology at the moment. I'm stuck with spinning rust and electron-charges in SSD's. So damn ephemeral.

This bleak look at reality brought to you by Crap Colored Glasses™, only $1k the pair and cheap at 10x the price.

Castrating the Son

After a bit of thinking about it, I have realized certain things about the kind of low-class "women" who do weird stuff with their children. "Women" like:

* the whore wannabe soccer-mom who dressed her son in girls clothing

* the whack-job who has brought her young son up to the point where he says "I'm still homo"

* both of whom love, love, love their little childrenz scorecards...

* also those who divorce/frivorce and weaponize the kiddies in the war against the former-father

* making the man out to be so eeevil, he would repeatedly rape his own kiddies and then eat the resulting babies (no you ain't getting no child custody, you filth)

Such beautiful minds.

Such poisonous souls. (That's my line. Caught you fucker's trying to steal it.)

So overflowing with hatred and bile.

So twisted and warped, that they continue their process of castrating the ex-husband by castrating the son. Castration by proxy.

"*WHACK!* There! No filthy male behavior from you! You've been castrated now!"

And she must be sure to tell the father - and all others that she can - what she's done. All that sub-rosa foulness coming out. In the nicest way, of course - plausible deniability is still required.

Further down the line, the consequences strike:

"Why can't I find a maaaannnn!"

It's because we've realized how fucking sick, twisted, and broken you are. To the point of being completely unfuckable, let alone marriageable. Thank you for putting it out there 11,000% on display for all to take heed of.

Fair warning is good.

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Something To Bitch About

This is some theoretical stuff today. I've been thinking about it for a couple of days, it seems to correlate with my personal experiences. Think it through for yourself, your mileage might vary.

We all know that teh wimminz love to bitch. (In fact, if they don't bitch they will probably blow up. Too much pressure inside and no safety-valve. We don't want to be around when she blows up.)

Looked at in one aspect, the whole of feminazism is just one huge bitch that's gotten to the point of blowing up. (Fucking whining over petty bullshit. Bah.)

Interestingly, a man I know floated an idea past our small group of guys on Friday at our TGI Friday lunchfest. He reckoned that a beard has two functions:

1/ To keep the face warm in winter. (Which it is heading that way now in NZ.)

2/ To give her something minor to bitch about.

Now, in some parts of the manosphere - being an asshole is "the thing". If you think about it, being an asshole gives her a sub-rosa benefit. Effectively along the lines of giving her something to bitch about. (She will never acknowledge this.)

Which kind of makes sense given the comments re beards above.

So taking this theoretically.

If she has something minor to bitch about (ie you're actually a man who doesn't kowtow to her, rather than a soyboy pussy fag yes-man slave who attempts to kiss her ass out of cringing fear all the time) then she's letting off steam - pressure - in small doses.

For you poor bastards in a relationshit that seems to be going south: try growing your beard. Just to piss her off a little and give her something concrete and petty to bitch about.

Hell, rasp her fuckin' face with it. In fact, her whole damn body, if you know what I mean. Just scratch her up a little everywhere.

Cross fingers, this'll keep the pressure from building up to where she goes full-on crazy cunt - leading to frivorce.

(What, she wouldn't like that? Grow a fuckin' spine you maggot. Your cringing is despicable, take your fuckin' balls back outta her purse. Cast those motherfuckers in concrete. Then slap her across the face with 'em. Right, she now has something concrete to bitch about - instead of you being a soyboy pussy fag yes-man slave who attempts to kiss her ass out of cringing fear all the time.)

Good luck, men. Now go out and enjoy yourselves.

Why Women Are Dishonest

Over on /r/MGTOW is a very basic question "Why are American women so dishonest about what they find attractive?":

This makes me annoyed. Why are women so dishonest about what they like. For example in a reddit once I talked about body image issues with men and how they were unhealthy. Of course some chick barged in and said she "only likes what is on the inside and does not like muscly guys"

this made me annoyed and I told her she was full of shit and knows it.

(got banned from that sub by king arthur's white knights at the round table lol).

She denied up and down how she was not attracted to muscly guys. On campus, i see chicks talk about how they "don't like muscly guys" well, their behaviour shows otherwise they are constantly flirting with muscly guys.

Hey nothing wrong with that! you like what you like just be honest!

I can actually SYMPATHIZE with a lot of women.

I shamefully admit I have gay tendenceies. Like I have been physically attracted to fit muscly men. (lol I know that is super gay but I am being 100% honest.) some of those guys had shitty personalities but I liked them better than the smaller nice guys because of their physical appearance.

Why are guys more honest about what they like in a woman?

like most guys like genuinly curvy women (NOT fat) with, large breasts, and thick lips and healthy skin and a nice personality.

Why do women lie about liking "nice guys" but don't just say: "I like a muscly assertive man and am not interested in smaller passive guys".

That would solve 90% of dating issues today.

Its as if guys would say: "I don't like sexy chicks, I like fat chicks with a nice personality" But then they would blow off all of the fat chicks and only pay attention to the hot chicks.

What is so hard about this?

sorry for my spiel.

Ignore the bit about him having gay tendencies: that's his biz and I'm not going to attack him for his honesty. See, he is asking a very relevant question - no matter who asks it.

I'm also cutting his question down to the bare-bones essentials. Not just American women - all women are dishonest. Not just about what they find attractive - dishonest, period, about everything.

They are dishonest - they lie - to stay in practice.

They lie to their family, friends, boyfriends, acquaintances, random people in the street.

You know the types of things. "I'm on the pill." "It's your baby." "He raped me!" "It's not my fault!" "I couldn't do X because of Y (bullshit reason)." "I didn't know!" "I was with the girls. (She was getting fucked by Chad.)"

Most of all, they do this so that they can lie to the Police, Judge and Jury, their Lawyer, the world at large, etc - when it comes down to the final crunch. That time in front of the police, the lawyer, the court. They can lie with an absolutely straight face as they make claims that you are violent and abusive and should never-never-never be allowed anywhere near the children. Though you should pay her out the wazoo for raising them.

By the time she's finished with lying about you to all and sundry, you are the type who would rape your own children and kill and eat the babies that resulted from it.

Oh sure, there are a very rare few (the 10-20% who got snapped up real young and who actually stay in a relationship because they are near-NAWALT material) who don't lie all the time. That still leaves a lot of room: "only" 30% of the time, rather than 100% of the time, is still lying.

Old joke: How do you tell when a woman's lying? She's talking.

Good luck with all that.

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