Easy-Peasy

…and in a somewhat-related note to the above post:

I drive many women of my acquaintance insane with rage when I tell them that men look for only three things in a woman: Sex, Sandwiches and Silence. (Don’t chide me: enraging women is my sacred mission.)

But courtesy of Insty comes this stunning revelation from a woman who has achieved that most elusive of female goals: finding and keeping a decent man. And it’s so simple:

Food, clean clothes, tidy room, sex and a shoulder to lean on.  Yep, it’s really that simple.

There’s a lot more detail, of course, but her plan is brilliant. Needless to say, the feministicals are going to go batshit crazy about JudgyBitch’s advice. I don’t care. Because it’s true, and moreover, I bet her guy does just as much to look after her (“LOTS!”). This, however, is the clincher for me:

But we’re not talking about quid pro quo here. If your first instinct was to set up a mental balance sheet and make sure all of YOUR thoughtful actions are being returned in EXACT PROPORTION to your outlay, you might as well give up now. You don’t know shit about men, or relationships of any kind.

Exactly. Give this lady a 50th wedding anniversary. I hope she gets it. (And a quick note to Mr. JudgyBitch: fuck this one up, and you deserve daily ball-kickings for the rest of your life.)

Yikes

I am SO glad I am outside the mating game, or rather, the mating nightmare:

The mate landscape is now so bad for American beta males that they’re wifing up late 30s Wall victims and aged feminist careercunts for one or two, max, years of tolerable sexual relief with a rapidly depreciating ASSet who will get her one kid with him after wasting her prime bangability on the cad carousel quaffing birth control pills like vitamins, and who will unceremoniously divorce rape him after the beta dupe has pitched in to help raise the little snotbag during the most inglorious, dull, and thankless years of its life between birth and toddlerhood.
No joys of fatherhood for you!
Only everlasting financial servitude and psychological destruction.
A sex market that rewards this sort of dynamic is irretrievably broken. We are spitting in the face of millennia of sex polarity, denying the God of Biomechanics his tribute. Instead of passionate love marriages with young women notarized by multiple children, we have socially expedient striver marriages in which haggard careerist shrews on perpetual headache mode diddle the bean to Fifty Shades of Gay and suck dry the resources and emotional commitment of beat-up fap-weary sex-starved limp beta noodleboys before chucking them to win cashmoneyshekels right at the moment fatherhood presumably gets interesting for the damned fools.

I love the way this man writes, but I’m ineffably depressed about his subject matter. Unfortunately, what he’s saying cannot be gainsaid, and therein lies the pity of it.

 

Just… Wrong

I saw an article somewhere about people attending some movie premiere (details not important), but what struck me was how the women dressed. Here’s the lissome Heather Graham (47) standing on the left, next to the cute Molly Quinn (25):

(In case there are people out there who are even more clueless about this stuff than I usually am — I actually had to look these two up — Heather was Rollergirl in Boogie Nights, and Molly was Castle’s daughter in the eponymous TV show — neither factoid of which will be relevant to this post.)

Am I the only one who thinks that they should have swapped outfits? Heather’s little mini is cute, but FFS she’s nearly twice her companion’s age. The longer dress would have suited her much better. Also, her legs are too skinny and not that great — Miss Quinn actually has nicer legs (I know, you need a pitchur):

I know all about the female age bias in Hollyweird, and how Women Of A Certain Age Can’t Get The Good Roles Anymore (Helen Mirren and Meryl Streep to the contrary), and therefore the ladies have to look and dress like young girls rather than the mature women they are. Which means you get women making fools of themselves (“mutton dressed as lamb”, as my mom used to say) and frankly, I think it’s nonsense. Case in point: Sophia Loren, outside her movie roles, never showed off her flesh to excess, despite having one of the greatest female bodies evvah (I know, pitchur, shuddup):

Okay, maybe not that one — but note: no “sideboob” or crotch shots (which seem to be all the rage these days [sigh]).

I seem to have lost my thread. Oh well, let’s just say that actresses need to dress their age. Like the septuagenarian Susan Sarandon:

Oh hell, I give up.

The (Continuing) Pussification Of France

I know, France is already well down the slope when it comes to how French men are being emasculated. But this little snippet just makes me want to laugh painfully:

Emmanuel Macron [whose picture appears in the dictionary under “pussy-whipped little fart”, see below — Kim] wants to ban men from following women and asking for their phone number under new plans to end the ‘macho’ culture in France.
The 39-year-old French President vowed to crack down on harassment on public transport and in the street when he was on the election trail earlier this year.

You know, the definition of a male pussy includes the clause under “Pussy Politician” which is defined as one who, when there are difficult but critical actions to be taken (e.g. dealing with radical Islam) instead decides to deal with an irrelevant political issue (like this one).

A lot of male pussies are also in thrall to their mothers, e.g. Mrs. Macron:

Oh wait, that’s Macron’s sixty-four-year-old wife. My bad.

Anyway, there’s one more observation I’d like to make about about this issue:

A working party set up by, Marlene Schiappa, the under-secretary for gender equality, is now looking to produce legislation making it illegal to harass people in a public place – and this could mean outlawing wolf-whistles.

And one definition of a pussified government would be one that has pointless and stupid government posts like “under-secretary for gender equality”.

All that said, this Marlene Schiappa chick is pretty sexy:

…although I’m probably going to get fined by the gendarmes for saying she looks like she knows her way around an orgy.

 

So What’s New?

According to the New York Post (always a bastion of careful reasoning and journalistic moderation):

Hackers could program sex robots to kill

In other words, it could be almost as dangerous as having sex with a couple of my ex-girlfriends. A couple of points need to be made at this juncture:

  1. For some men, this could be a turn-on rather than a cautionary tale
  2. Note the proliferation of “could”, “might”, “may” and all the other weasel words in this article — in other words, it’s total crap
  3. No doubt the “hackers” who actually  perpetrate this wickedness will be Russians, Ukranians, Central Europeans as opposed to, oh I don’t know, retarded British hackers
  4. I would imagine that for owners of said stuff, privacy would be paramount. So anyone who hooks his sex toy up [sic] to the “Internet of things” deserves everything he gets.

For the record, I don’t believe a single word of this bullshit. It’s probably a story dreamed up by militant feminists or (more likely) RealDoll‘s competitors.

Come on, Cherry 2000…

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Men Only

I was sitting in a bar last night in Bath, trying out a pint or so of Bath’s local bitter (Gem; not too bad, but not 6X), when I became aware of loud young male voices, and lots of cursing, with what can only be called “violent language” — you know, “The next time I see him, I’m going to fuck him up”, that kind of thing.

I was only a little perturbed, because there were quite a few older women in the place, and they were visibly discomfited by both the volume and the language. Now ordinarily I would have got up and gone over to the lads and reminded them of their manners, and asked them to turn down both the volume and their fucking language because there were ladies in the house, but suddenly I realized that I was in the wrong, not them; and what was happening was the fault of modern society. Here’s why.

You see, young men are essentially wild animals, and when they’re in the company of other young men they become still more so — ’twas ever thus, and there will always be male posturing and bad behavior. Note the following little fracas between a group of adolescent male lions, rough-housing and doing essentially what the young men in the bar in Bath were doing.

Now according to the photographer, after a while they simmered down, and wandered away as though nothing had happened (which it hadn’t), and no doubt went off to kill a zebra or find a lioness to mate with — you know, guy stuff.

And this is why we need men-only bars.

Men-only bars provide an environment for young men to be themselves — i.e. to act like assholes — and basically blow off the adolescent testosterone steam building up behind their ears. It’s loud, and rude, and antisocial, but older men look at that, shrug and ignore it because they too were once young men and so they understand what’s happening: essentially, a harmless activity. Of course there may be the occasional fight, because that’s what young men do, and the only way to deal with it is for the older men to toss them out of the bar and let the young idiots finish it off where little or no damage will ensue.

But then came feminism, where men-only bars were regarded as Bastions Of Male Patriarchy or some such silliness, and bars were opened up to women, changing the dynamics of the social setting and denying to young men what was once an accepted outlet for adolescent behavior.

I’m not interested in arguments that “young men should learn to behave” — a typical  female approach when they encounter a situation they don’t like, which is to change the rules thereof and by doing so, altering someone else’s behavior but not their own. The plain fact of the matter is that this will never change, and taking away a place where young men can misbehave simply means they’re going to do it elsewhere — e.g. frat houses in college — where there is no elder-male supervision. And we’ve all seen how that works out.

In the larger sense of things, this is also an argument for an all-male armed services — at least, the part at the sharp end — where the violent nature of young men can be channeled into a worthwhile activity like killing Commies, Nazis and other assorted filth — and I hate to say it, but adding G.I. Janes to the mix is going to make that worthwhile activity less efficient.

I am likewise unmoved by the whines of feministicals who want to get involved in male behavior — “Piss off and leave us alone,” is my typical response — and I really think that we as a society have become dysfunctional because of the enforced mixing of the sexes in areas outside of relationships and mating.

I don’t know how to reverse this foolishness, or if it’s even possible. But I’d like to see men-only bars and pubs reappear as a starting-point.