Exclusive

I wonder if women ever stopped to think why stuff like this used to happen (before such signwriters started getting carted off to feminist-think reeducation camps, that is):

I’ll tell you why.  It’s because we boys had a great time together.  We got up to mischief, fought each other (physically and verbally), played dangerous games and (at the early puberty stage) talked about sex.

Let a damn girl into that idyllic scenario, and all that cool stuff ended, because the girls didn’t want to do any of it — and worse, if we went ahead and did it all anyway, they’d run and tattle to the grownups.

So rough boys’ games turned into gentler, girl-oriented games (which no boy wanted to play), fights weren’t allowed and mischief or dangerous games were prevented by the dreaded words, “I’ll TELL!”

Girls were (and are) a royal pain in the ass.  Hence the signs.

Now take childhood exclusion and apply it to adult life — oh, say, to the Army.  What could possibly go wrong?

What red blooded American male would want to serve in a US military of drag queens, cadets in red high heels, Mommy Rangers, lactating chicks in the field and waddling battalion commanders?
There’s a known fact that the feminist crowd would like to keep buried, like those Green Cards for those Ranger tabbed ladies that Benning hides so well – any industry women take over, men leave… in droves.
The future of the US military is a broken force, a devastated force, if anything is left at all on some distant battlefield.

But hey… who cares, as long as Teh Womyns feel better about themselves?

I used to be fairly agnostic about women who served in the military, provided that they were kept away from combat.  Well, they were allowed to join the armed forces, and because being non-combatants (cooks, drivers, clerks etc.) was demeaning, and patriarchal, and all that proto-feminist twaddle, of course they had to be allowed to do things like try to graduate from Ranger School — and because they always failed, the natural outcome was to lower the standards so that women could eventually pass and feel better about themselves.  Never mind that guys would look at this, say, “That’s not a challenge,” and leave.

Now I have a simple solution:  toss them all out.  Everywhere.  From the combat units, air force squadrons, clerical jobs and most especially, the Navy.  Make the armed forces a man’s world again.  Morale will skyrocket, G.I. pregnancies (and the concomitant costs) will become a thing of the past, fitness and duty standards can be raised to the skies, and our armed forces will become the envy of the world, just like they were during WWII.  My prediction:  men will flock to enlist in the armed forces for the same reason that “No Girls Allowed!” clubs always had a long waiting list of boys from the neighborhood.

And gawd forbid that I breathe these forbidden words:  the United States will then field a ferocious bunch of kick-ass fire-breathers who will cause would-be enemies to shelve their plans of aggression and run back to their Momma.

Si vis pacem, para bellum.  And admittedly, while men often screw up the pacem business, nobody can fuck up a good bellum like a woman.  ‘Twas ever thus.

Tole Ya

Back here (warning:  contains a pic of Donna Reed’s boobies), I wondered what would happen when people started thinking about sexbots that look like kiddies.  Well, now we know:

With little discussion, House lawmakers unanimously passed the CREEPER Act by Rep. Dan Donovan, R-N.Y., in June [2018] to ban importation and interstate commerce involving “any child sex doll,” though the Senate has not acted.
Donovan said in a statement that his bill would “help better protect innocent children from predators” and urged the Senate “to follow the House’s lead and swiftly pass this legislation that would benefit our communities.”

Didn’t take long, did it?

As for the main story, I have a simple question:  since when did prostitution come to include charging people (essentially) to masturbate, and providing a place in which to do it create a brothel?

Asking for a friend.

Not Wanting

If ever anyone were to ask you the question, “Why is Kim steadfastly refusing to dive into the dating pool again?”, this would be one of the good reasons why:

Sexually-transmitted diseases continue to hit all-time highs in the U.S. with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reporting a 10 percent spike for chlamydia, gonorrhea and syphilis in 2017. The federal health agency said in a report released Tuesday that the numbers, which include nearly 2.3 million new cases of the aforementioned diseases, reflect a “steep, sustained increase” in STDs since 2013.

And as to why I would never date a young woman (other than psycho-social reasons), there’s this little nugget in the study:

While primary and secondary syphilis diagnoses went up by 76 percent, chlamydia remained the most commonly reported to the CDC with nearly half of the new cases occurring in females ages 15-to-24.

Given the increasing fascination with “dating apps” such as Tinder (even, regrettably, amongst men and women of my age group), it will be a cold day in Hell before I dip my wick into that little vat of social battery acid.

Tell Someone Who Cares

Ah yes, how would we ever survive without studies?

Almost half of husbands have no idea how often their wives orgasm during sex

  • Survey asked newly-weds how often they achieved orgasm during sex
  • As many as nine-in-ten men reported experiencing regular orgasms
  • Under half of women (49%) reported reaching the big O on a regular basis
  • 43% of husbands incorrectly guessed how often they satisfied their partners

My guess is that the 43% of clueless husbands are probably married to the approximately 43% of wives who just lie there like a bag of warm rice pudding during the act.  It’s hardly surprising that men have no idea about Madame’s Big Moment when she doesn’t share the adventure — or the lack thereof — with him.

I repeat (and not for the first time) the immortal words of Howard Veit on the topic:

Since when have we men all come to accept as fact that if a woman can’t enjoy sex it is the fault of men?  Bullshit.  It’s my job to show up at the party with a stiff dick, perform like a wild man for five or so minutes, shoot my baby seed into her, and then pretend I care for her.  If a woman can’t achieve orgasm it’s her fault.  I never have a problem ejaculating, ever.

Go ahead and read the rest of it, if you feel the urge [sic].  But you won’t learn anything other than the fact that men are pigs, men are stupid, and men are lucky that Madame ever makes her pudenda available to his foul animal lust.

And they wonder why porn is taking over.  From a very old Playboy magazine (speaking of porn):

Every man has been with a “Margaret” at least once in his life.

Then And Now

In days of old, when footballers were simple sportsmen and not the millionaire malcontents they are today, their WAGs (wives and girlfriends) were likewise a completely different sort to their modern-day counterparts.

You see, dating or being married to a footballer carried no special cachet back then — even if the footballer was famous or especially talented, the salaries were modest even by standards of the time.  So if one sees photos of, say, the WAGs of the English team which won the World Cup in 1966, they look like… well, like ordinary housewives:

Nowadays, of course, footballers are paid astronomical sums of money, and consequently they attract, shall we say, a different kind of woman (as seen by a companion pic of England’s 2018 national team’s WAGs):

I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with this situation — women have always been attracted to famous and wealthy men — it’s just that nowadays, the rich and famous men have a lot more choices, and therefore the quality of the goods on offer has improved.

Although I have to say that “quality”, if applied to the 2018 WAGs, is a polite euphemism.  To me, most of them look like they’re off to the docks  to work Fleet Week.  But that’s just another factoid which helps answer the question: “Why do men play professional football?”

Ya Gotta Say “Yeah”

So now Oz has passed a law which says that even if her mouth is playing “find the weasel” in your pants, you still have to get her verbal consent before insertion, so to speak.  Which reminds me of the old Australian joke:

He:  “Sheila, how about a fuck?”
She:  “Nah, Bruce, I’m not in the mood.”
He:  “Oh.  Well, d’you mind lyin’ down while I have one?”

(I know, you have to suspend your disbelief at the suggestion that an Oz woman would actually ever say “no”, but still.)