Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Good Morning Captain!

In the ninth underworld, a gambrious cunt, bathing in the incandescent lights of drooping lights, taxi drivers, neon signs, tips of embers of remnants of people flailing around steps out of a club, lost in the crowd, girls applying their makeup assiduously, fast frood emporium, sympathizing with fast food cunts who dread the night shift, because the nights are where the cunts come out of the grass, on all sorts of shit. Lads will be in the horrors the next day.

I see old people. They are as lost as us. They are in the clubs. An older man but without the ostentation or suave to get himself that hot piece of pussy. There will be a moment, and every man has it. It is the moment when that tight pussy, olfactory sensations triggered by the beautiful smell of estrogen that only lasts for so long, will be gone for him. The coquettish lass with the hot ass in class, hair done up in curls will be akin to a geometrically decaying function, what was so simple, so obvious is now lost. Some men get it, some don't. In a healthy society, this guy would be the pillar of wisdom and experience, but now he is chasing the dragon of youthful effervescence. One way for a cunt to tell if a man is poor with women is his views on maturity. Oh, I don't like little girls! he says! 18 year olds are dunderheads! Immature. Bless the cunt. Schopenhauer was right, roysh. Face it to de fucken heads ken, the older women you find out there are like wrecks in the ocean. You want to see the damage feminism has done to women ken, you fucking bitches like Lindy Oreo Rabbit Up De Butt West, all you have to do is visit a nightclub in Dublin at nighttime and see these skinny fat crones who leap on every guy to get the smallest bit of sexual validation. Banausic to the point of tedium, tribal drum, dump da dump da dump da dump, some cunt has popped out of the toilet having got off on a bit of the Charlie. Fuck that shit to high heaven ken.

In the manosphere, there's a bit of a "she got what she deserved, fuck her" sort of mentality kind of thing going on when it comes to the cum dumpster slut. While that is definitely going on in a cunt's head, I don't see that when I see a couger with a barren womb dressing like the younger lassies in the club. I just feel really depressed when I see women like this. The house is always the same ken. Immaculate, polished, clean, fresh. The pet. The credentials. The car. The boasting about owning the property, the golf trips in Spain, the little girl, the shelf of romance fiction and self help literature. The conversations about her precocious childhood, the persona that just pulls everyone in. The vivacity of that little girl is long gone. We have an ersatz man, we have nothing on show.

I'm still drinking. I'm dancing with this lassie. The wide space, people packt in like sardines always depresses me. Nightclubs depress me ken. They're just these loud, uncomfortable, depressing places, snapshots of fake people, frauds. This lassie is a strange one. She's cute and I'm grabbing her ass and going caveman on her. Her eyes are dilated, her hands are on my hips. The fat friend gets irritated at this and drag her away. Mood for the rest of the night. Act a bit needy. Fuck it up. Walk off. A creepy cougar threesome and it aint Sex and the City shite by any means ken. These broads are losing it. They smile, but its a creepy, unhinged sort of thing that has been drawn on with a permanent marker.

This is what denying reality getcha. This is what the fucking dragon, gets ya. When the parents and elders are even more puerile than the kids in the club, the whole thing cannibalizes itself. One of humanity's greatest achievements, a mentor system which tries to stick old heads on young shoulders is being propelled forward into an almighty conflagration. Building the antiuniversity will require one looks from the bottom to the top. You don't have guidance. You get rid of mentors, you get rid of structure. You get rid of structure, BAM there goes the curtain and there's the abyss in all its fucken glory and fuck me cunts the abyss is big and ugly and frightening looking and just unpleasant, like a bad itch or a crap wank, and yous can sees why the comforting (wink wink) tongue of the nanny state whispering in your ear appeals to yous so isnae there ken, it isnae there...

So yeah, long story short, I didn't get laid last night.


  1. Respect our elders, our cultures tell us. It's a global thing, common across time and space and what-have-you for ages.

    And then in less than a man's lifetime, there suddenly aren't many elders worth respecting any more.

    If that doesn't say something about what we've done to ourselves, nothing will.

    1. Here in the States the elders are now the Baby Boomers & the really old ones are the people who raised the Baby Boomers to be the way they are.

      I'm just after the Boomers & I can tell you there haven't been many elders worth respecting for a long, long time.

    2. But if you do what you love, if you respect women and are nice to them, if you avoid anything hard and go for that nice little government job, and if that lad says shit to you, that's ok ken, that's ok.

      More cougars in the club ken, shit be filling up quickly ken.

    3. You know something? The boomers have done more to destroy society than any other generation, just about. Lads in the manosphere, risen through the fire and brimstone of boredom and superficial relationships, will end up the most traditional.

      Or the most damaged. I guess we'll see.

  2. "Or the most damaged. I guess we'll see."

    In my case, I think it's the most damaged. I guess that's why I write the way I do.