Thursday, 30 August 2012

A Confederacy of Hamsters

Suddenly, a thought pops intae her skull, as she is watching Geordie Shore with a big bowel of Ben and Jerry's placed on her knee. It hits her like a high speed train, causing her to cover herself with chocolate.

AWWWWWWW SHITE! I'm getting FUCKEN FAT! Mah arse! Holy arse! What dao ah dao nao?

Arise, dear hamster!

Ah know! I'll ask mah mates and mah family sure. They'll tell me the trooth. 

Facebook friends: yous looks SOOOOOOOOOO good with mark in twennie ones, fair deuce to ya

Gay friends: You look FABULOUS TO ME! Penny's was made for you.

Women Friends that have their eyes on the alphas: Any guy would be lucky to have you! You look a-m-a-z-i-n-g!

Orbiters: look fine to me. You're hot, if I uh, umm, diddly, do say so myself. Like a flower in bloom. You're the woman I want to have children with and copulate with. (read this on today's Facebook - ED) 

DAD:  Dats mah gurlie!

The hot lads that I want: There are fatter people out there! (de fuck does da meain)

Conclusion: ahm a fucking 7 and nao man can tame meh! fuck dem, shallow up their own hole cockmunchers.

If I had a euro for every time I've observed a scenario like this.

Lassies, if you want to be physically attractive to guys, it's pretty simple. And before you say otherwise, no, really, no. It's not just me. Every man that has ever lived thinks/has thought like this, and believe me that's a lot of people we're talking about. Saying lots of men like fat, or curves, or whatever, is simply not true. Moreso, the people that you ask will give you the wrong answer, the answer you want to hear. Fat and skinny lassies are attractive equally because all of this shit is subjective, right? Huh. This is the cold honest truth. It's not rocket science, and everyone knows it. Why am I writing it? Because I'm sick of people telling others answers they want to hear. Boomer parents telling kids "do what you feel". Nerds being told that not having their shite together is "ok, and that they are individuals". This is wrong, all of it. 

So, without further ado:

This woman's 45 years old, old enough to be my mum. You said you're in your twenties? What's your excuse again fatso?
1: Eat a paleo diet, or some variation of it. This is one of the most important on the list. Nothing kills a boner quicker than a fucking beer gut. Meat, offal, eggs, green vegetables. Drink green tea. An indulgence once in a while is perfectly acceptable, just remember that if you don't respect your body, you'll age quicker than you think.

2: Lift weights. Compound lifts. Squats. Deadlifts. Bench Presses. Don't do cardio, get yourself to the weightroom. Also, don't worry about getting "big". You've got fuck all testosterone compared to men, and even then, those lads who are big are either genetic outliers, eating 3000 + calories of food a day, or are on hormones. You won't wake up big. You will wake up toned, be a lot healthier and suffer from less mood swings, have more guys going after yous, and slow down aging by 5-10 years if done properly. A lot of bang for your buck. Possibly a bit of HGH from the late 30s on, if yous can afford it. As of now, it's the better way to fight aging than the Joan Rivers plastic surgery route.

3: Wear dresses. Why don't Irish lassies wear dresses anymore? It's all fucking jeans and weird grey shit.

3(b): Within reason. A certain brand will not automatically make you hotter. A dress that is colorful, fits properly, and accentuates your curves, does. The color red is a good choice. Ever visit a charity shop? Many a dress that would look great on a lassie for a fiver en aw. This is just to save money, that's all.

4: Don't cut your hair short. We like women to look like women! Not pyknic man-boy things. Long hair is a hassle to look after clearly. But the alternatives? Short hair isn't cute. It isn't a turn on. It doesn't make you remotely iconoclastic or anti chauvinistic. It's just fucking shite. While we're on the topic of hair, don't dye it a strange color, or get a weird, "out of this world" style, hair cut either. Green rainbow hair = image of a crap femcunt who uses the word "cigender" a lot/or a massive fucking slut. Tattoos are unattractive as well. After all, can you imagine yourself with a wrinkly butterfly tattoo above your snatch at 70? Me neither.

5: Learn how to put on makeup properly. It's amazing how many lassies DON'T know how to do this. How many of them are gallivanting around the place looking like they're auditioning for clown college? A bit is fine, but there's no need to go overboard. Here's a nice list that shows you which makeup is noticed most by men while we're at it.

6: Dress your age. There is something oddly depressing about seeing a 40 year old cougar in a nightclub, dressing like a lass that's 20 years her junior. The eyes are the window to the soul, always. There really is nothing more pathetic and desperate than that.  Dress up and dress appropriately. Do this as you age.

7: Wear lingerie.  Few things are nicer than a woman saying to you "I bought this, because I want you to imagine what I look like without them on". A great surprise that keeps on giving.

8: Use moisturizer and sunscreen. Neutrogena and Ambre Solaire are excellent brands, and help protect your face from the harsh elements. Make it a habit, and stick with it. You're in it for the long haul.

Seriously ladies, you'll thank me when you've just married George Clooney.

Edit: It seems that 3rd Millennial Man posted something identical already today. Great minds think alike. It's a goodie, and it's got stuff on personality, which mine barely glossed over.

Francis Begbie 1, UCD/Trinners Bumder Economist 0


In a recent post, I said that:

But, a lot less of us actually want to buy houses. Why? We see that it is a lie. We see that 128,416 houses in this country are in fucking ARREARS. We see that most bankers and economists are utterly clueless to the actual system, and the piss poor manner the banks have gone about dealing with debt. We see that being in debt sucks. But most of all, we can't afford to do any of this, even if we wanted to. This will mean that demand for houses in general will fall further, and people will either move back in with their parents, or go into rented accomodation, which will be in a poorer state because who wants to pay a value based property tax?
And a few days later, the CSO release figures on the matter:

In the same period, home ownership dropped from nearly 75% to under 70%.
The number of households in rented accommodation has increased by 47% in five years, according to figures from last year's census.
But of course, I'm just a university student who dabbles in the stuff as a pasttime, and has a thing for Guinness and Eastern European lassies, yet I managed to predict something. Sadly, this puts me eons ahead of the mainstream crowd. Economists are utter fucking idiots. You want proof? Or do you want a sitcom? UCD what have you done to me? I mean, during the boom, lads like Morgan Kelly were mocked and completely ignored, ridiculed by these PHD wielding neoclassical acolytes, briefcase wankers that went on to teach a whole generation of D4 asshats, who subsequently went into places like Anglo Irish Bank and Bank of Ireland, the rest as they say is history.

"Huh! I wonder why rents are going up?"

Marginal spastic utility.

I'll be in the pub.

Tuesday, 28 August 2012



"Sure, it's only about 20 quid Francis!"

I look to my side. Sausage fest sedan with the only lassies in the place about to hit the wall and wearing fat suits. The group of people I'm with are mates of the Landlord, about 13 years my senior, or thereabouts.

"Sure, you cannae maet a bleedin burd in a place like dis!"

That's certainly true. The ratio of men to women in this place strikes out at about 70/30. The three lassies in the corner are taking pictures of each other and giggling like children. Curse facebook, exacerbating the solipsism of the female mind for nigh on a decade now.

"It's called Speed Dating" Birrell continues on. You sit at this table rite, and then you're like, talking to these burds, but you only have five minutes tae do it, te make yer mark, ye knowwa ah meain?"

This guy's a fucking brainbox. He's got a masters in veterinary. He has a colorful vocabulary, but he isn't one of those posh Foxrock spazoes, I'm enjoying his company, truth be told.

I turn to him and look past his shoulder. Red eye has caught me again. A hot lassie with silver stilettos has just brushed past a tall man in a brown jacket. A high seven. Franco's rule is applied: If a Irish woman is a 7+, 70 percent of the time, she's Polish.

"This place, very nice!", she says to her friend, who she has just embraced. Thick Polish accent. Feminine and charming. We're onto enough data.Fuck Hegel. This is an absolute truth. Polis chicks>>>Irish. Dere. Ah sayd it.

"But Birrell!" I reply with a grin. What's with all de speeddating? I mean, yer a fucking anamal man now! It might not be the most glamourous job, with what sticking your hand up cow's arses, but you're loaded man! What's to stop ye picking up some nice broad?"

He turns to me and says: "You get old mate. Don't remember, I'm only a decade older than you. We're not surround by those fit University burds anymore."

There's a brief silence. They're playing "Galway Girl"  by Mundy on the radio. People formicating up and down the stairs to the toilets. This guy's a decade older than me. Fucking hell. He's all old and flabby and shit.

"And it hits you, just like dat. Deco over there!, Oi Deco!"

Didn't hear him, we're at the song's chorus. 


Laughter erupts at the table.

"Piss off ye daft cunt!"

"He's not much older than you..."

"tuirthe traye"


He raises his glass.

"You're older a lot longer than being a young man, Francis! You think you'll be getting off on three hours of sleep and tumbln intae a lecture heh lyke yer doing nowt? Fook off! Dis, will be like a hamma, to the hed! Enjoy it while you can! Everyone fooking wastes their twenties! LIVE TO REGRET"

 "shu up!




The night, I couldn't remember more than this, apart from trying to game a 35 year old 6 (and failing fucking miserably), and seeing that hot little Polish chick leaving, out.  One, how the fuck is a guy with a masters in veterinary, not a bad looking guy, and from what I've seen, sound out enough and has some game, considering fucking speed dating? Society, wake up, wake up! There is something nefarious here, Second, this guy is not a million years older or anything like that, fucks sake en all. Ten years, and him and all his mates look like shite. Poorly dressed, fat, one guy with hair down to his arse and quickly going grey. Whether this is just feeding your body through a drink junk food grinder 2122232425262728 or just natural ageing, I dunno, but it, at the time, scared the shite out of me. You are going to age, but you can control this. And you should start, if you're like me, when you're at the start of yer twenties, ie right fucking now, because it will be all too fast, faster then you think.

You want to stop procrastinating? Good. Get talking to a few lads in their 30's. They're old enough to see the results of good living, but young enough to remember their youthful vivacity. To an old man, youth sees an abstraction, a faraway place to a 30's fella, it feels like they were tossing jack daniels shots back like it was yesserdays...en 3ehfookin4.  Just like you.


So, what the fuck are we going to do now?

Doing a Roosh is not sorting out the problem, it is retreating from it.

Practical, no bullshit advice on bulking up.

Go easy on the wee lassie, if she doesn't look you in the eye.

Words, and their precise meanings. 

Matt Forney and Fifty Shades of Bullshit. Sidenote: I think somebody should do the same for Twilight.

Paul Krugman goes full retard.

Duncan Weldon debunked.

MRA's are fucking pussies, part 5607937.

Your brain will play tricks on you. Get a fucking diary.

The idiot proof way to shop for food.

Sometimes shorter really is sweeter. One of Roissy's best recent posts.

Hey, I think women have the right to enjoy their porn. This lassie is just afraid of the truth getting out, and we all know what truth that is...

Monday, 27 August 2012

Irish Property Tax and Enjoying the Decline!

It doesn't take a genius to know that the Sunday Independent is a shambolic attempt at being a newspaper. A grim smile, a sly little chuckle, as one skims the paper, picking up on the various problems in the articles themselves. Sunday's issue in patricular was a larf, with columns about 40 year old women being better than 20 year old women at raising kids, and well known Irish TD Pat Rabbitte being the "most attuned to the feminist argument". O fucking lae.

Long story short, the government are planning to introduce a new value based property tax in December's budget. The big huff and puff is that Dubliners (remember, this paper is dominated by tools from Dublin 4) will on average have to pay more tax, the average four bed semi detatched house in Dublin, 897 euro, compared to a midlands house of 375.

Former Dublin Lord Major Andrew Montague says: " why should we pay even more than people who are costing more?"

Well, see here's the problem. We are talking about average figures here. The writers don't seem to understand this. You are more than likely not going to pay 897 euro, if you live in Dublin. Remember, the average figure is brought up because of all the posh cunt palaces in Foxrock, Blackrock, Goatstown, Killeney etc. No one has sympathy for some middle class plight Dubliner anyway. If you're living in one of those places, fuck it, you're a d4 cunt, roysh, and you'll be able to afford it anyway. Not to mention that the paper is full of these guys. So stop presenting this this as "Dubliners will have to pay more because they live in Dublin and they will have to pay more" argument. It's the actual property of the house, not the unreliable average one and it makes sense, even if the idea of the tax is ludicrous. Plus, Andrew Lyons probably hasn't been in Connacht recently, where the infrastructure is simply dire.

Second, as rightly said in the article by Ronald Lyons, if the tax is based on the actual property of the house, then the upkeep and surrounding area of the house is now problematic. The value of a house is due to a plethora of factors. Surrounding area, and quality of the actual house itself. Why is this a big problem?

Well, if there is something done to increase the value of the house, would people actually want to take part in it, if it means being taxed for it? An example is making your home energy efficent, or building a place of employment near by, where you can't work for/already have a job. Why bother, when you'll have to pay more in tax anyway?

The government have to realise something with the property market, and it is extremely important. First, my generation is the next in line to buy houses. But, a lot less of us actually want to buy houses. Why? We see that it is a lie. We see that 128,416 houses in this country are in fucking ARREARS. We see that most bankers and economists are utterly clueless to the actual system, and the piss poor manner the banks have gone about dealing with debt. We see that being in debt sucks. But most of all, we can't afford to do any of this, even if we wanted to. This will mean that demand for houses in general will fall further, and people will either move back in with their parents, or go into rented accomodation, which will be in a poorer state because who wants to pay a value based property tax? God, living with your parents in your late twenties is great, isn't it? All those women queueing up to my door and all the time spent on videogames and porn! As people my age get back on the boat to Australia or something , incompetent government and all can do shit, and all ah can sae is Enjoy. The. Decline!

P.S, about 40 percent of people still haven't paid the 100 euro household charge. Good times ahead!

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Are Modern Day Videogames Awful and Useless Cunt Syndrome, does it exist? Two posts in one!

Stepan Trofimovich alert.

Today I did something I've been meaning to do for an awful long time. I sold my Playstation 3, traded in all my videogames, and with the money, I plan to buy a juicer, and maybe a V Neck or three. Pecuniary matters are important no doubt, but there's a lot of clutter, things need streamlining, and but so the console has to go. Fact is, as of right now, I'd rather do a hundred and one different things that play videogames. Becoming proficient at MMA, or being the deft little hand at a Fender, both have always been dreams of mine. But, one of the reasons for the console ditch is a simple hedonistic blast the dopamine one. Videogames are simply not fun anymore. The industry has developed in such a way that all we see is something that is trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator. Playing video-games these days is like joining in the great canorous Leap Forward, Idiocracy fucking Mach II with footballs in the groin. Oh my.



Deus Ex is my favorite game ever, and probably the only videogame I would consider playing again. A FPS/RPG, and set in a dystopian future, the game encompasses everything that was great about the medium, while throwing in a couple of more goodies into the mix. Choice. The game thrives on it. Whether you want to be a ruthless gunslinger, a stealthy in the shadows motherfucker, or a jack of all trades master of none type, the game allowed for it. Decisions that seemed pretty menial at the time, have massive repercussions hours later. Morseo, the game had a deep, dark, heavy plot that remained morally grey through. The ending of the game itself was a triumph, allowing you to change the course of the whole world, and not to sound like a nerd, (hey, it was profound for my 15 year old self) presented this idea well. You're a Libertarian? How about destroying the hub of all electronic communication and driving the world into a new Dark Age, so people will have (the manosphere wet dream ending) ultimate freedom? Does the idea of a human/AI benevolent dictatorship interest you, or should you run with a tried and tested Conspiracy? When you find yourself mulling over a piece of art this meticulously, you know you've something really exceptional. Deus Ex was one of those games. It was far from perfect, suffering from out of date graphics even at the time of release, over twelve years ago, and a clunky combat system, but with titles like this, Metal Gear Solid 2, Silent Hill 2 and a handful of others, it felt like games were moving on beyond just being mere escapism on a disc.

So what happened? Well, the sequel happened, and lo and behold, things turned to shit. Video games went into a new epoch where the PUBLISHERS dictated the DEVELOPERS. You can't risk innovation when this happens, and when you have 20 fucking million in the pocket and you've got punters to bow down to, the experiment failing has far bigger consequences. Metal Gear Solid 2'sai free well mindfuckery becomes a dumbed down 60s game with shit camera angles for the prequel. Silent Hill 2's unreliable narration leads to sequels which are essentially just blast those zombies which run like Usain Bolt ad nauseum. First person shooters are the worst, in particular the Halo games, and its influence on the Uncharted series, which is a particularly awful series, if I do say so myself. The Uncharted games are "modern classics", in the same way that Deus Ex was, but the decline in what is a classic is evident, even in a timespan as short as this. James-g compared a Taxi Driver conversation, to the psuedo "oh he be smart" Christopher Nolan bullshit in this great article. Uncharted 2, to start, has an awful fifth rate Indiana Jones rip off plot. It's main character is an annoying wise cracking idiot adventure guy caricature, and the script is beyond woeful. The game features two modern video-game tropes which I utterly despise as well; a two weapon only system (which is not fun because the weapons feel like pea shooters) and a regenerating health system (the problem with this is that with no way to use weapons strategically, there is no incentive to explore, and no incentive for developers to design good levels, so the game gets boring quickly). The level design is so poor; utterly shite game design ensures that navigational clues are given out a couple of minutes after the completion of a task, just so it doesn't get too challenging. Poorly incorporated stealth segments follow. Mindless set-piece full of pointless explosions, predictable on rail shooting segments, riot grrl moments, dressed up in pretty graphics and a mellifluous score that would make Michael Bay feel proud. All of this is the order of the day. Finish your popcorn first, but remember, this is what art is these days!



Maybe I'm just getting old. But there's something about videogame playing that is just intrinsically depressing. In my more loser days, I would walk into a room and see my mate, sit down on a couch and crack open a beer. Usually we played those older Call of Duty games, with the volume turned up and the lights on. Anyhow, there's a bit where both of us are playing away, and this effeminate sounding Canadian kid with a lisp is shouting FUCK YEAH over and over and I just keep asking (as I imagine most people were), big epiphany moment that feels so shit and is really cliched to talk about and is not really that all fascinating, but really, is this it, is that all there is to it and is this all I'm allowed? Is this what being young is all about? My grandfather was all over Canada in his heyday, and now, here I am, sixteen, drinking beer, smoking pot and getting a skinny fat belly? These games, they're my fucking Toronto pit digging. Extensive game playing is just the modern way to forget that we are spineless, quiescent, because, as you say Freud and fathers with your Worthless English Literature degree, I say we are envious of their adventure and their chivalry. That we are guys with guns who can save the world from itself. I see us, me, you and I see people in cubicles with grey faces and cowlicks, fake laughter and sexual oblivion, doped up on digital violence and satiated by porn. Slave morality. The fact that I could write a post like that, analyzing a fucking videogame, is one that really intrinsically bothers me. I find that with novels as well. Novels that deal with man booker prize tits who write about how people should be, instead of that ugly, visceral side that dominates day to day existence.


Here's a list of stuff which shows what videogames do to your brain...


The problem is that no one fucking told me or you, any of this. Not one thing. No one told me anything, and what they did tell me, it's been all completely wrong. You also didn't get any guidance, that push, get up and go, because, get up and go is whatever you want it to be. Fuck. It's been a year, and I've made an enormous amount of changes and am really proud of myself to do so, but it's fucking exhausting to find out that you are completely wrong again and again about certain, once truths and not in a constructive way, rather an iron bar, "this is reality accept it!" kind of way. This red pill stuff makes you feel a bit isolated, if I can be completely honest. It also pisses you off, and makes you distrust society on a deeper level. In fact, I wonder does it make it, the collapse of values worse? You have knowledge that can really help you out, can help out society at large, but you stop caring and just walk away with it yourself, not because you're this "oh I know shit arent I great !" guy, but because your trust in other people's knowledge is lost, because no one knows what in god's name is going on. You feel useless as a result. Along with Roosh Syndrome, I think a lot of Manosphere readers have what is called "Feel like Useless Cunt Must Improve Oneself" syndrome. Because the aforementioned makes them feel really vulnerable, they reflect on their own position in life, and often realize how helpless they are and how things are just there in the light. The only way to fight it is to become a Renaissance Man. To have actual, tangible skills. To do this, you need to remove all distractions, you need to sharpen your focus. That is why you need to ditch the fucking video games.

Friday, 24 August 2012

Michael D Higgins video.

Not really much to say here. I'm not particularly right or left wing, but this thing irritates the shit out of me, and I actually have a bit of respect for Higgins, over say Beta Enda Kenny and his fat fucking wife, or the cunts you see in New Labour. Presenting the right wing as "whipping up fear", because tea parties are evil and they eat children, rather than say, just being objectively wrong on something. Why can't people do that? Beautiful shaming language here by the left. Meanwhile, we have sycophantic "I Love Obama" comments, even though Barack Obama might well be one of the worst presidents in the state's history.

Besides, Higgins is partially wrong. Even though I agree with him about healthcare, not everybody wants it, and that's their decision to make. Is it right to be forced to pay for it Mr Higgins?

Edit:  People suck.

Thursday, 23 August 2012

How And Why To Give Up Pornography


In a previous post, I suggested that pornography’s recognition as an addiction and something that is bad for young men today, will be stilted by the religious connotations, ie saying masturbation to porn is bad makes you look like a bible thumping religious zealot. I’ve gone 50 plus days without spanking it, and the benefits have been, well...absolutely stunning. No porn, no masturbation gives you benefits in the same way that good game, or another ten pounds of muscle does. You want to be one of those spineless turds wanking off to shemale porn, or failing to get an erection, or succumbing to more and more, increasingly addictive porn? No. Then give the stuff up. Benefits include:

1: Increased sex drive. There seems to be a myth that masturbation increases your testosterone. Fuck that shit. I’ve never been hornier, more aggressive. Combine that with a ketogenic diet, lifting, supplementing, and you’re some kind of monster. This leads to…

2: Women definitely find you more attractive. For the first time in my life, I’ve had women approaching me. Now, granted, one of them was fourteen years old wearing a tank top, but even so, this is progress. Women meanwhile are smiling more at me, ioi’s, or are trying to push their way into my vicinity. I’m not necessarily sure if there is some pheromone thing going on here, or if I’m noticing signals for the first time ever, or even if it’s because you’re surrounded by a bunch of dickless wonders and you’re Lord fucking Bryon in comparison, but it’s definitely there.

3: Deeper voice. These days, I sound like Barry White, sexy fucking beast that I am.

4: More motivation. When you’ve got a tank full, your motivation really is at its zenith. Workouts are better. The incentive to write is there. You don’t want to sit around playing shitty videogames. You want to go out there, be the best person you can be. This makes perfect sense from an evolutionary point of view, after all, who wants to do shit, after blowing your muck?
5: Better sex. Is there anything more satisfying than erupting on a sweet lassie’s tits?

6: Better sleep. Good sleep is one of the cornerstones of a robust body and mind. No brainer really.

7: You save time. That time spanking it, is now won back. Chat up birds, read books, whatever the hell you want.

8: Dreams. You’ll get wet dreams again. But if that doesn’t bother you, you might enjoy colourful, lucid psychedelic dreams where you ride bicycles and…fuck it.

9: You’ll look better. My skin is clearer, the black shades under the eyes have gone. Now, one can definitely attribute this to the better sleep part, but even so. For those guys that have thinning hair, I’ve even stumbled across a few accounts of people who said their hair thickened up after abstaining from masturbation. Fuark.

10: Bigger package. You care, you know you do! 

11: Intense gym workouts. Pent up, a lack of binging, means you're going to attack those weights. I've broken out of my bench press plateau, and I attribute it to not looking at porn.

So, if you’re sold yet (and I’ll post accounts of people who have benefitted from this), I’ll list out some tips on how to not succumb. But first:

1: This is a very hard thing to do. You’re fucking around with dopamine, brain circuitry and the prefrontal cortex. Big shit basically. There is a good chance, that this will be the hardest thing to give up

2: Because of that, you shouldn’t feel bad, if you do fuck up. There are a few studies out there which show that people, who feel bad for failing, end up falling off the wagon more and more as time goes on.  Just shrug it off and move on.

Now, the tips.

1: Install K9 on your computer. Make the password something you won’t be able to remember. The disadvantage is that you can easily uninstall it, but, that takes time, and by the time you do so, you’ll come to your senses pretty damn quickly.

2: If you have a laptop, use it in a place where people can walk in at any moment.  Obviously, you don’t want your mum walking in on you doing the deed…

3: When you wake up in the morning, get up immediately. If you have morning wood, then get the hell out of bed. Otherwise you’ll edge, and the fuckupery goes up. Get your arse into a cold shower and get to work.

4: Get rid of any wanking material. Get rid of wanking tissues, magazines, lubricant, even something as innocuous as a Sears catalogue magazine can prove to be your downfall.

5: Have a lassie that likes fucking. If you're too drained, you're less likely to wank.

6: Purchase and use magnesium oil. Magnesium oil strengthens the parts of your brain that are related to decision making and willpower. The stronger this is, the less likely you'll give into temptation.

7: Be healthy, and don't get too drunk. How many fucking times dinae mess up cause I was feeling fucking barry after a bit of drink? Same for food. Eat clean, avoid sugary shit, and throw in a bit of the old high intensity exercise.

Now, a heads up on what will happen, when you give up porn.

1: The first week and the third week are the worst. For the former, expect cravings and mood swings. For the latter, expect a so called "flatline period", where depression, no sex drive and no morning wood are the norm. You'll be tempted to see if it's still working, but don't buy it, tell your brain to fuck right off ken. Eventually, you'll break through, the sun bursting through the clouds, with a giant fucking, bitch slaying 10 inch jimmy.

2: For some reason, I started craving sugar, junk food more. But don't give into that either.

3: The younger you are, the longer it takes you to reboot, get your brain rewired back to where it was. The timespan we're talking about here? About three to five months. Sounds like a lot, but when you get past that, pinned to the bed three week span, you'll be amazed, (a), how little you think about wanking, (b) how much you'll be going after women more and (c), how much easier it gets.

You're better than all of this. Give up porn, increase your chances with women, good luck, and I'll see all of you on the other side...

The Lie

It's that time of the month again, what with leaving cert results hitting the curve, and places for university being handed out to the next generation of young Irish. There's the usual "this guy got 9 A's" stuff, the lamentation of the horrible economic system, and the obligatory "so you've been accepted into the University of such and such a place" stuff, going on in the news right now. This was also, most interestingly, the first year that Minister for Education Ruairi Quinn brought in the bonus points scheme for Higher Level Mathematics. Well, the effect has been ubiquitous. There is now a distortion of the points system. Not a particularly bright idea to begin with, (using a crane to crush a fly in my opinion) exacerbated by the erroneous idea that everyone has to go to university. Quinn wants 72 percent of the country to go. This is a ludicrous idea. But while silly,  and (that is for another post) what pissed me off is what I call The Lie. It's a well meaning Lie, but it is a damaging Lie all the same.

Let me talk about it. There's a kid I know, hitting the Leaving Cert curve in the next year or so. His parents, Boomer generation of course, have been telling him that he should do "whatever he wants", and that he should "enjoy what he is doing". Now, I can debate that concept when applied to life, and truth be told, if I had something to grab onto, say, a beautiful wife with children, I would be the first guy, filling in all those TPS reports, and wearing the most flamboyant t-shirt on Hawaiian T Shirt Day. If enduring real tedium is courage, then your family, your friends, is what spurs you on, what makes you go for it. But, when applied to getting a degree, this proves to be terrible, terrible advice. The kid wants to study English Literature. Fucking A. He likes reading, good for him. But the thing is, English Literature is not about learning how to read or write. It's indoctrination, plain and simple. He'll be fed bullshit, on why white heterosexual men are devils, the guff on being able to be good at writing reports, the critical theory, Lacan, deconstructionism, Foucault, finding meaning in things that aren't there, but all of that is ok, because he is LEARNING about the Frankfurt School, and he's not a women hating bastard, and he was told, ad nauseum that it will be a hell of a lot of fun for him!  Because, he should enjoy what he is doing, good god. I bring this up, and I'm shot down for being a hater. Guess I was being too crude? Four years later, this kid will find himself "enjoying" the life he has, in a job he didn't want, told to suck it up, told "everyone has to work", in a market that is absolutely hostile to young people. 40 percent unemployment? No availible credit from the banks? Going up against oligopalies that will gangbang your business dry? Being told by entitled overweight people to get on the computer and to man up? Fuck them. Fuck those shits. I hate this sheltering from the storm attitude that boomer parents have. Tell them the truth for fucks sake.

You're walking the tightrope here. You want to live in a cartoon world, yet apply the failed values of your generation onto us. How fucked up is that? Tell the TRUTH. Work is boring and banausic. You're surrounded by fucking idiots who are only there cause they're the niece/nephew/lover of the boss in question. You have to deal with cunts in HR, managers who are carbon copies of David Brent, monotonous chit chat, meetings about lifting chairs, and women with piles talking about last night's X Factor. Work sucks, but what else is there? You'll hate being unemployed as well, kid. You've seen the look I imagine. The one that you see on the street, late twenties skinny fat lad with a nike hoodie who is still living off his parents. The gaunt look on his face. Can't stand it. Perpetual, silence, the horror, the horror. We were meant to create, not to lie down. This kid won't listen, fucking idiot parents.

This fuzzy thinking, ignore all of it. Tell him straight up, and others like him that the degree is worthless, and that guidance counsellors don't know what they're talking about. Tell him that work is boring and more often than not, unfulfilling. Tell him that STEM trade, (but maths is HARRRRDD) or learning a new language is the way to go. Tell him, that hacking the system and leaving it altogether is advised. But perhaps, maybe a part of the reason this exists is because we have options now. Why should I try and do what is best for society, when I know everything isn't puppy dogs and flowers and rainbows and cushions. I will not work for a family that will be fucked over by divorce. I will not work for a fat wife with short hair. I will earn the bare minimum, enough for wine, woman and song. I will not save for retirement, I will be a failure, a screw up, and a loser for doing so. Anyone who screws over a boomer is a winner in my book.

Here's the thing about older people.Older people think that just because they've been on this fucking rock longer than you have, they deserve respect and their opinions are worth shit. They may mean well, but in actuality, they have no fucking idea what is going on on the ground floor. They don't realize that society has changed so quicky, in such a short duration, that their advice is not only wrong, but will lead to you being seriously screwed in every oriface. When they launch into a tirade on their sorry lives, about their butterfaced bitches and how happy they are, that operation that they got on their hip and how they did it, you ignore them of course, sit back, see how wrong they all are, how you don't want to be involved with them, goodbye and godspeed. Only the boomers could create a society where being physically fit is iconoclastic, an act of the most frugal rebellion. And you expect me to pay for them in the future? Smile!
To close off, here's Aristotle on old men: The character of the Elderly Men—men who are past their prime—may be said to be formed for the most part of elements that are the contrary of all these. They have lived many years; they have often been taken in, and often made mistakes; and life on the whole is a bad business. The result is that they are sure about nothing and under-do everything. They ‘think’, but they never ‘know’; and because of their hesitation they always add a ‘possibly’ or a ‘perhaps’, putting everything this way and nothing positively. They are cynical; that is, they tend to put the worse construction on everything. Further, their experience makes them distrustful and therefore suspicious of evil. Consequently they neither love warmly nor hate bitterly, but following the hint of Bias they love as though they will some day hate and hate as though they will some day love. They are small-minded, because they have been humbled by life: their desires are set upon nothing more exalted or unusual than what will help them to keep alive. They are not generous, because money is one of the things they must have, and at the same time their experience has taught them how hard it is to get and how easy to lose. They are cowardly, and are always anticipating danger; unlike that of the young, who are warm-blooded, their temperament is chilly; old age has paved the way for cowardice; fear is, in fact, a form of chill. They love life; and all the more when their last day has come, because the object of all desire is something we have not got, and also because we desire most strongly that which we need most urgently. They are too fond of themselves; this is one form that small-mindedness takes. Because of this, they guide their lives too much by considerations of what is useful and too little by what is noble—for the useful is what is good for oneself, and the noble what is good absolutely. They are not shy, but shameless rather; caring less for what is noble than for what is useful, they feel contempt for what people may think of them. They lack confidence in the future; partly through experience—for most things go wrong, or anyhow turn out worse than one expects; and partly because of their cowardice. They live by memory rather than by hope; for what is left to them of life is but little as compared with the long past; and hope is of the future, memory of the past. This, again, is the cause of their loquacity; they are continually talking of the past, because they enjoy remembering it. Their fits of anger are sudden but feeble. Their sensual passions have either altogether gone or have lost their vigor: consequently they do not feel their passions much, and their actions are inspired less by what they do feel than by the love of gain. Hence men at this time of life are often supposed to have a self-controlled character; the fact is that their passions have slackened, and they are slaves to the love of gain. They guide their lives by reasoning more than by moral feeling; reasoning being directed to utility and moral feeling to moral goodness. If they wrong others, they mean to injure them, not to insult them. Old men feel pity, as well as young men, but not for the same reason. Young men feel it out of kindness; old men out of weakness, imagining that anything that befalls anyone else might easily happen to them, which, as we saw, is a thought that excites pity. Hence they are querulous, and not disposed to jesting or laughter—the love of laughter being the very opposite of querulousness.
Confucius invents a time machine, ends up in 1967 and then kills himself.

Wednesday, 22 August 2012


Testosterone levels have been dropping for the past god knows how long. Get yourself checked out.

At the end of the day, it's your mates that matter. If they suck, ditch them, they're dragging you down.

Spin hamster spin!

What would a University of Game actually be like?

James-G on Matthew Yglesias.

Maybe I should leave Irish lassies alone.

Excellent post, I'm really considering ditching video games for good.

Vox on women not keeping the same standards they expect of others.

Men's rights activists are autistic.

I'm considering booking a ticket to Russia.

You think Pussy Riot is heavy? You ain't seen nothin.

Tuesday, 21 August 2012

How A Trip To Poznan Ruined Francis Begbie For Life


You'll never baet the Irish!

cha cha cha

You'll never baet the Irish!

cha cha cha

A dropout at the last minute. A bit of the old flu, keeping ye doon, but nae fuckin flue for the deft cunt Begbie! Flick open the mobile phone and success. There it is. Answer away and get all of dis from Sick B =  "Y'alrite Francis, ah wilnae be abe mayke the football in poaland, want to take the ticket off my hands?" The beacon lads! Francis Begbie was offered a ticket to the Ireland and Croatia game! Elated! Money was subsequently exchanged. Savings were used up. Planes were boarded. Copious amounts of vodka were consumed. Sleep was lost. Luggage and clothes was also lost. Poznan for three days. The city, the Irish fans, the football! Then, the calamitous 3-1 loss, officially the worst team of the fucking tournament, and then back on the plane not long after later. There were lessons to be learned, a life changeing experience. First, the chant, "you'll never baet the Irish", isn't actually true. You can actually beat the Irish. Second, polish food is not very good.

Third, the women are absolutely stunning.

There wasn't really that much done in between games, apart from a bit of banter with some of the fans, the Spanish (highly arrogant bastards) mostly, and getting the drink on, so in between all these stretches, we took to the streets, just to look around, take in the whole thing. It shocked me really. Wherever I went, I was surrounded by great looking women. Slender, tall, long haired, beautifully and colorfully dressed. 6, 7's, 8's as far as the eye could see. Paradise Lost, gentlemen. In his heyday, Napoleon took Polish mistresses, being the hottest broads around, for the king kong alpha what else would he take? Irish men with game, during the Celtic Tiger period did as well, dropping their Bridys and getting with the Blancas. Don't expect this to be a RooshV data report by the way, I was only there for less than half a week, was drunk an awful lot of the time, and only interested in the football. But, in my subsequent strolls around the city, I decided to play a number of games. Probably the wrong word to use. Field research might be a better one.

Francis Begbie staples: 

1): The Fatty Game. Rules: How long, and how many women in the 18-30ish range are fat.

Results: I got bored, played it too long and gave up looking. Even Captain Ahab would have a tough time finding whales here.

2) The Ugly Beure Game. Rules: How many women in the 18-30ish range are less than a five in looks.

Results: One girl, every twenty or so minutes. It was rare enough, that the ugly chicks, would be the ones that would be embedded in your brain.

3: The Femininity Game. Rules: Any women who have short hair, Skrillex haircuts, wear man clothes, exhibit clearly masculine behaviour, or anything of the like, are to be disqualified.

Results: Femininity is an aphrodisiac. Chicks like these meanwhile, just make your dick go limp.

For all you nerds out there, the beauty distribution was something like this:

 Let the mean be a woman who is a 7, on the looks scale. There is a standard deviation of 1. So, 68 percent of the women in Poznan were between a 6 (cute) and an 8 (hot).  In comparison, the Irish distribution looks a bit like this:
Ugly girls, obesity, and women that don't shower, making maths fun for everyone is what Francis Begbie does.

From this, average girl in Poznan:

To this in Ireland:  

I am shell-shocked and tentative. I return home, to find myself surrounded by fat women, dressed in arse over the fense tracksuits. I sit on the bus, and hear an overweight mid twenties lassie, talking about these two lads who are "stalking" her. Irish women are cruel to beta males, just saying. I think back to Poznan. I think back to those three sweet girls who loved The Smashing Pumpkins...

I think I'm ill. I've contracted what Ferd used to call Roosh Syndrome now. Still, the symptoms might die off. Hopefully.  

Until then, strive to be better. Greater. More productive. Cutting edge game, so the fatties are nothing more than rabbits in your headlights. The next few months are going to be very interesting, no doubt.

Sunday, 19 August 2012

P.H.D Bitch

Spin hamster, spin! Katie Roiphe lecturer in journalism in NYC University (lol) and with a PHD in fucking Literature (she's the kind of person who has a metaphorical hardon for the pointlessly obfuscating Judith Butlers of this world), has written a piece in the New York Times on single motherhood. The piece is titled "In Defense of Single Motherhood". In reality, it should be titled, "Why I'm allowed fuck up my own children." The hamster is strong in this one. The piece? Well, it is the New York Beta Times we're dealing with here! This really is one of these articles where you leave your brain at the door.

To start:
IN a season of ardent partisan clashing, Americans seem united in at least one shared idea: Single mothers are bad. A Pew Research Center poll on family structures reports that nearly 7 in 10 Americans think single mothers are a “bad thing for society.
 Stupid Americans with their philistine beliefs!
 Conservatives obsess over moral decline, and liberals worry extravagantly — and one could argue condescendingly — about children, but all exhibit a fundamental lack of imagination about what family can be — and perhaps more pressingly — what family is: we now live in a country in which 53 percent of the babies born to women under 30 are born to unmarried mothers. 
Shit, I didn't know it was this high. I like the way she says "about children" and then moves onto what family "can be". This is dialectical materialism at its finest. It is no longer about children. It is whatever you want it to be.
I happen to have two children with two different fathers, neither of whom I live with, and both of whom we are close to. I am lucky enough to be living in financially stable, relatively privileged circumstances, and to have had the education that allows me to do so. I am not the “typical” single mother, but then there is no typical single mother any more than there is a typical mother. It is, in fact, our fantasies and crude stereotypes of this “typical single mother” that get in the way of a more rational, open-minded understanding of the variety and richness of different kinds of families.
First line is a major red flag. So who is the dad? Do all three of them sit around the table at Christmas? Notice the fallacious logic, how can you not be something, if that said something doesn't even exist in the first place? The language is telling as well. "Fantasies" implies that she is a victim, or that these crude single mother type don't exist. Well they clearly do, for fucks sake, you even quoted the fucking numbers, just above!
 The structure of my household is messy, bohemian, warm. If there is anything that currently oppresses the children, it is the idea of the way families are “supposed to be,” an idea pushed — in picture books and classrooms and in adults’ casual conversation — on American children at a very early age and with surprising aggressiveness.
Translation: Messy implies I let my kids get away with shit. I'm that type of mother that tries to be friends with my children, go Boomers! The reason this idea of families is pushed so "aggressively" (again, note the language to make her look like a victim), is because it has worked, this idea of a family, for thousands of years. Read Confucius for fucks sake. P.S, no need for the comma. Bohemian and warm is correct.
At 2, my son, Leo, started to call his sister’s father, Harry, “my Harry.” When he glimpsed Harry’s chocolate-brown 1980s car coming down our block he would say, “My Harry’s car!” To me this unorthodox use of “my” gets at the spirit of what we’re doing: inventing a family from scratch. There are no words for what Harry is to him, but he is definitely his Harry.
The other day Leo brushed his mop of blond hair in front of the mirror and announced, “Now I look like Harry.” People are quick to tell me that this is not the real thing. But is it necessarily worse than “the real thing”? Is the physical presence of a man in the home truly as transfiguring, magical and unadulteratedly essential as people seem to think? One could argue that a well-loved child is a well-loved child.
This is just depressing, grim reading. The kid clearly wants his dad, and you turn the absence of father and love into something you can quantitate. If the child gets all that love from me, who cares? P.S, for someone that has a PHD, your grammar is woeful. Unadulteratedly? I'm not sure you can use that word like that...

To support the basic notion that single mothers are irresponsible and dangerous to the general order of things, people often refer vaguely to “studies.” I am not a huge believer in studies because they tend to collapse the complexities and nuance of actual lived experience and because people lie to themselves and others. (One of these studies, for instance, in order to measure emotional distress asks teenagers to record how many times in a week “you felt lonely.” Is there a teenager on earth who is a reliable narrator of her inner life? Can anyone of any age quantify how many times in a week they have felt lonely?) But since these studies provide fodder for those who want to blast single mothers, it’s worth addressing what they actually say.
Translation: I'm going to ignore all the data out there which proves my point wrong, because then I would be wrong, and I wouldn't be able to justify screwing up my children. Note, the emotive language, "I am not a huge believer". Her point about people lying to themselves is valid admittedly, but that makes it a bad study. Her logic is, there are bad studies out there, therefore all studies are bad. Shaming language example 5000, "provide fodder for those who want to blast single mothers". Poor innocent single mothers. Poor innocent slut who got it on with two fathers.

Studies like those done by the Princeton sociologist Sara S. McLanahan, who is one of the foremost authorities on single motherhood and its impact on children, show that conditions like poverty and instability, which frequently accompany single-mother households, increase the chances that the children involved will experience alcoholism, mental illness, academic failure and other troubles. But there is no conclusive evidence that, absent those conditions, the pure, pared-down state of single motherhood is itself dangerous to children.
Oh the irony. I'm going to say studies are bullshit, but I'm going to use one to back up my own points on single motherhood. Also, why is this person one of the formost authorities on single motherhood? Quote, or just cut this sentence out all together. You've a fucking PHD in English. That's schoolboy error shit right there, really bad writing. You also fail to understand cause and effect. Single motherhood creates poverty, just as poverty creates single motherhood. You can't have your cake and eat it. Onto the next paragraph.

PROFESSOR McLANAHAN’S studies over the years, and many others like them, show that the primary risks associated with single motherhood arise from financial insecurity. They also offer evidence that, to a lesser extent, particular romantic patterns of the mother — namely introducing lots of boyfriends into children’s lives — contribute to the risk. What the studies don’t show is that longing for a married father at the breakfast table injures children.

Again, you're refuting your own point. First, you seem to think that single motherhood comes down to loving the child only. Not true. By ending up with single motherhood, you've less money. This means that you yourself are making life worse off for your child. You make that decision, don't forget that. Point two is fine. Point three is so fucking stupid that I'm tempted to post one of those facepalm pics. Despite the fact that the longing for a parent clearly does injure (she uses injure rather than hurt, because injure suggests physical violence) children, you are being dishonest here. The word longing, replaces the word stability, which are quite different concepts believe it or not. Families with a mother and father, simply do better. This line is nothing more than feeling guilt about what you've done.

And Professor McLanahan’s findings suggest that a two-parent, financially stable home with stress and conflict would be more destructive to children than a one-parent, financially stable home without stress and conflict.There is no doubt, however, that single motherhood can be more difficult than other kinds of motherhood. In France, the response to the added difficulty is to give single mothers preferential access to excellent day care. Here the response is moralism disguised as concern and, at other times, simply moralism. 
Define destructive. Two trailer trash rapists would obviously be worse than you, but for all the "things are not so black and white" bullshit you've been spouting, you're making a black and white point. You're still playing to the law of averages. The average two parent household is more stable and happier than the average one parent household. The second line is just essentially, "don't judge me for being a slut!" On we go.
 The idea of “single mothers” may itself be the convenient fiction of a fundamentally conservative society. In fact women move in and out of singleness, married parents break apart, men and women live together without marrying, spouses or partners die, romantic attachments form and dissolve. Those who brandish research like Professor McLanahan’s ongoing Fragile Families study and Paul R. Amato’s 2005 paper on changing family structures to critique “single mothers” conveniently ignore the fact that such investigations rely on shifting, differing and extremely complex definitions of the households involved.
Things change, therefore single mothers are not wrong. Again, blame it on the right wing conservatives and certainly not yourself; it is nothing more than a convenient fiction after all. Not to mention the definitions really aren't that complex. This is just getting tedious.
What gets lost in the moralizing conversation is that there is a huge, immeasurable variety in households, and there are great ones and terrible ones, arduous ones and inventive ones, drab ones and exuberant ones, among families of all structures and economic strata.
It’s useful and humbling to remember that no family structure guarantees happiness or ensures misery: real life is wilier and more fraught with accident and luck than that. If you think that being married ensures a good life for your children you need only enter a bookstore and open any novel, or go to the theater and watch practically any play, or have dinner with nearly anyone you know. Suffering is everywhere, and married parents, even happily married parents, raise screwed-up or alcoholic or lost children, just as single parents raise strong, healthy ones. What matters most, it should go without saying, is the kind of parent you are, not whom you sleep with, and even that matters only up to a point.
1) Averages. The average single parent household will fare a lot worse than the average one with two parents. No one is denying what you are saying. But it the bigger numbers which we're after here.

2) The very last line is the most telling one here. Turns out this whole piece, was her trying to get off the hook, for doing something really fucking shitty. Who would have thought? I bet that if I told her that, I, a man, wanted to sleep with as many women as I wanted, I would be made man up. Oh well!
With the steep rise of children born to unmarried parents, America’s prevailing fantasies of family life no longer match the facts on the ground. But as the children born to unmarried women under 30 come of age in the majority, these faded archetypes will have to evolve. Our narrow, constricting, airless sense of the isolated nuclear family has not always, if we are honest, served us well, and it may now be replaced by something more vivid and dynamic, and closer to the way we are actually living.
Hey, lads, guess what? The nuclear family paradigm that worked for thousands of years is falling apart, so we should change society to accommodate this falling apart and do something else cause it's fresh and funky, rather than try and save something that is literally, the bedrock of civilization. Then again, my views are narrow. I wish I was liberal and then I could say your opinion is yours and mine is mine, and we are all individuals.
Attack of the manjaws!

All of the liberal concern about single motherhood might more usefully be channeled into protecting single mothers, rather than the elaborate clucking and exquisite condescension that get us nowhere. Attention should be paid to the serious underlying economic inequities, without the colorful surface distraction of concerned or judgmental prurience. Let’s abandon the fundamentally frothy question of who is wearing a ring. Young men need jobs so they can pay child support and contribute more meaningfully to the households they are living in. The real menace to America’s children is not single mothers, or unmarried or gay parents, but an economy that stokes an unconscionable divide between the rich and the not rich.
1) Because conservatives are not concerned about single motherhood at all. It's an issue that everyone deals with, believe it or not.

2) No, you're wrong. Single motherhood screws up children in a plethora of ways. Being a widow is one thing, but being a stupid cunt who has two kids with two fathers, is another thing altogether. Single mothers should be shamed and ostracized. You're part of the problem, don't you get it?

3) Nope, single motherhood is much more than a "colorful surface distraction".

4) Why the fuck should young men pay child support to help out little princesses, why are we being shamed, even though the women here are equally to blame? The idea that we should get jobs, to pay child support, to live for you...well it's your cunt, I guess.

Academia is a fucking joke. If someone from Princeton with a PHD can write all this shit, then what hope is there for it? Gentlemen, this article is no more than the hamster in overdrive. It is your duty to strike without mercy, to beat its head in with reality, while you tap the hot sister's ass on the side.

I'll be in the pub.