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Archive for the ‘Funny/Lolblogs’ Category

It’s still early in the 21st Century, but already we have two photos which so deliciously capture the zany zeitgeist and cultural erosion of America that it makes sense to vote now on which one will win Photo of the Century.

First up is a pic (or, rather, a TV screen capture) of a Mercedes SUV. This is the car that was carjacked by the two Boston Marathon Muslim bombers, brothers Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, (two dudes, it should be noted, who are about as culturally and genetically far from NW European whites as Levantine Semites are), as they were fleeing from police. On the SUV’s bumper is a “COEXIST” sticker.

The irony, it is SO GOOD, my cocky alpha smirk has gone suborbital. If you’ve been living safely away from white liberals, and never saw a “COEXIST” bumper sticker, here it is:

As you can see, the bumper sticker is kumbaya, bombs-across-America horse shit. Typical upper class leftoid self-soothing, status whoring propaganda that bears no semblance to reality, but does make the leftoid feel pretty goshdarned tickled with himself. As a YOU GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT juxtaposition that belies the leftoid’s moralizing, the photo of the carjacked SUV is the equivalent of an early years Tyson uppercut. How do you think the Mercedes-driving liberal feels now that he’s been coexisted into a hijacking with a sterling member of the coexistence shock troops? Chastened? Rethinking his priors? Nah. He’s winding up to crack down even harder with his self-annihilating, self-flagellating, redneck bogeyman Whip of White Man Penance. He hopes the searing pain will blind him to the ugly, encroaching truth. And perhaps also keep him in good graces with his cocktail circuit buddies.

***

The next photo is representative of late-stage, declining America as much as the first, but its subversive message targets a different part of the culture’s underbelly (heh).

There’s nothing like a snapshot of a fat bride, her fat friends, and her beta groom collapsing under their own weight into the murky depths of America’s retreat from greatness. The symbolism here is sublime. Grossly obese, still hanging onto the customs of old traditions that are quickly being discarded, and sinking nonetheless to a suffocating doom. People who fret about the state of marriage talk a big talk about men “manning up”, but an honest observer of the scene would have to ask exactly why any man would want to hitch himself to a human RV? The marriage rate is decreasing and age of first marriage is rising, and yet no one bothers to wonder if the growing (heh) crisis of female obesity has anything to do with it.

The voting booth:

ps we’ll be back to game posts soon. this was just too juicy to pass up.

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A dumpling faced feminist-slash-slam poetess made a video about the horrible, terrible, no good culture of beauty that oppresses women and keeps them from realizing their dreams of being ugly rocket scientists that men love so much. Watch it here.

It has 1.7 million views and 17,000 likes. The platitude pushers will not want for addicts any time soon.

Did you know CH was once a slam poetry hero? Yes, it’s true. The spirit of syncopated sulky syllable slamming once moved yer ‘umble host to heights of grandiose on-stage spasming. Chicks loved it. Hipster doofuses wished they could capture a rhythmic beat of Heartiste magic, so that they may slay their own snapperdragons.

Good news! Recently unearthed from the underworld slam poetry archives is rare video footage of one of CH’s charmed apprentices performing a satire of the droopy-eyed feminist’s battle cry to wage war against mascara and the cruel judgment of looks-ism. To fully appreciate the (he)artistry, watch the above video before watching the following. (Give the video a few minutes to buffer.)

Not Pretty
by: ChateauH

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VS.

Barack Obama apologizes for calling Kamala Harris ‘best-looking attorney general’

U.S. President Barack Obama has apologized to California Attorney General Kamala Harris for causing a stir when he called her “the best-looking attorney general” at a Democratic fundraiser this week.

Yeah, yeah, Putin dispatches enemies abroad with polonium-tipped umbrellas, and you’d probably not want to say anything bad about him on the internet if you were living in Russia, but ask yourselves, who would you rather represent your country? This guy:

or this guy?

Now who does Putin’s “boobies!” face remind me of? Oh yes

wait your turn, ladies

Great alpha males troll the shit out of vapid feminists. The best response to a shrieking femcunt is withering condescension, garnished with a belittling thumbs up or a shit-eating smirk.

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Jack provides a laundry list of common hamster rationalizations, peculiar to both sexes.

The lower your SMV, the “pickier” you become.

“game only works on sluts” – beta male
“black guys are hot” – fat chick
“There are no good men” – fat black woman
“eat a sandwich!” – friend zoned beta orbiter commenting on his attractive, skinny female friend’s facebook photo
“only (beta)younger men can keep up with me!” – cougar
“I’m sick of dating assholes” – girl starting to lose her looks
“I’m having fun and don’t want to settle down” – girl fucking guys who won’t commit to her
“I like girls with really big asses” – low status black guy who fucks porkpies
“the girls in this club are ugly bitches” – your friend who keeps getting rejected at said club
“I don’t date guys who can’t handle a girl’s past because they are insecure” – slut
“girls are all just after money” – beta male with poor career prospects
“guys just never grow up” – girl who can’t secure commitment
“my career is important to me and I need a man who isn’t intimidated by that” – girl who doesn’t have the goods to marry rich
“football player jock guys are rapists!” – girl who the jocks wouldn’t touch in high school
“all girls are dirty dirty whores, one can never be more faithful than another” – guy who has no skill to maintain an LTR
“her kids are great!” – OMEGA male

“Her kids are great!” :lol: :lol: :lol:

I would say, in order of how egregiously subgroups and subgenres of losers lie to themselves and anyone who will listen, (i.e., how overmuscled their hamsters are), the ranking, from best worst to least worst, would go like this:

fat women (can they *not* tell a lie about their romantic prospects without feeling suicidal? doubt it)
aging beauties (ditto)
single moms (doubleplusditto)
lesser beta males
average women
omega males
hot babes
alpha men

You’ll notice a trend. Women on the whole are more deluded than men. Lower value individuals of each sex are more self-deluding than higher value individuals. Omega males are still less deluded than the average woman, (men have to be more cognizant of the workings of reality because, unlike women, men can’t coast on their sexuality). Alpha men are the least self-deluding.

You are wondering what kind of rationalization hamster spins in an alpha male’s head. He’s a small rodent, but he’s in there, tucked away for special occasions. One example of an alpha male hamsterization would be: “I was the one who deserved that promotion.” Another example: “How did *he* get *her*?!” Most of the time, though, alpha males get the promotions, and the hot girls as well, and no one really argues they didn’t deserve their winnings in life.

Why is the lesser beta’s hamster bigger, faster, fluffier than the omega male’s hamster? There’s a psychological condition that causes a person to increase the voltage of his delusions the closer he is to plucking the fruit of success from the vine. This condition mostly afflicts men, because it’s men who mostly benefit from it. The lesser beta is riiight at the cusp of having something truly wonderful (relatively) in his life instead of the dregs which are so dishearteningly the usual bulk of his pickings. So it makes sense for him to assume a mantel of overconfidence to help push him across when the finish line is in sight. The omega male is nowhere near the finish line, so he accepts his sad lot in life without much fuss or mental energy devoted to convincing himself otherwise.

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Originally started by dumb feminists as a sincere effort at self-congratulation for imaginary deeds of heroism, the #TellAFeministThankYou Twitter feed has morphed into a shooting gallery for the entertainment of trolls and assorted sadists, providing a laugh a second. Feminists on that feed have been reduced to impotently bleating “wait for them to get it out of their systems.”

Go for the fun, stay for the cruelty. And keep an eye out for malevolent forces committing drive-bys of spectacular carnage. The kind of carnage that can leave a feminist with barely enough strength to mewl for the sympathies and circle-wagoning of fellow travelers.

UPDATE

Feminists are deleting the sarcastic tweets as fast as they appear. No surprise. Wouldn’t want to risk a mass suicide.

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Ah, hoverhand, that most identifiable of nervous, self-conscious beta male tells. Do you hover, body or hand? If you do, you must stop doing it so that women can begin to perceive you as a more attractive man, i.e. a man with a functional penis. Once you stop hovering, you may move on to step two: slyly placing your hand on or near a girl’s erogenous zones. What’s that? You’re afraid? Do not be afraid. Fear leads to beta. Beta leads to bitterness. Bitterness leads to involuntary celibacy.

Say again? Now you’re afraid a praying man-chin feminist will bite your head off if you put your hand on her in a less than obsequious manner? Silly fledgling. If you aren’t brusque about it, no woman will do that. Not even a feminist. Instead, the feminist will secretly enjoy your privileged sexual predations, and will only realize a day later after you have ignored her calls and text messages that she succumbed to an alpha male, whereupon her indignation will rise like froth in a stew of mashed ego gruel, and she will write a livid blog post about the asshole PUA she supposedly couldn’t care less for who can’t stop thinking about her.

Some of you burgeoning ladyslayers are wondering, “Where do I put my hand, then?”. Glad you asked! Here’s a graphic catered to the visual orientation preference of men.

The guy in the top left pic is headed toward LJBF land, if he isn’t there already. Beta. The guy in the bottom right is scared of his own shadow. Lesser beta with delusions of grandeur. The guy in the bottom left is doing it just right. Not too much grabass, like the boyfriend in the top right, but just enough to escalate her sexual response without triggering her egg protection protocol. As the night wears on and the seduction deepens, you should move your hand into previously inviolable regions. You’re on the right track if you can feel ass crack. As a reader says,

The guy at the waistline [bottom left] has to choose: up and out, or down and in.

Up and out, or down and in? Alpha male problems.

Where is the omega male’s hand? Why, feverishly pumping his pud ‘twixt forefinger and thumb!

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No One is Entitled to Commitment: Why We Should Mock the Great Girls of OkCupid

“I don’t really have a lot of sincere girl friends, nor boyfriends. Most men say I am great, but then don’t call back.”

Those are the words of a solemn, Skrillex-sporting young chick in her dating profile, a profile that recently became the first post of 2013 on Great Girls of OkCupid. GGOKC, Kerry Id-Baker wrote, serves up ”a roster of self-proclaimed ‘great girls’ who are actually total sluts;” in quotes culled from each woman’s profile there are familiar laments about being “too intimidating,” getting stuck in the “fuckbuddyzone.” There are also expressions of sheer rage and man-hating threats of violence: “all I want you to do is Lorena Bobbitt yourself, so you know what it’s like to live without penis privilege.”

Great Girls of OkCupid is a “dispiriting catalogue of desperation and man-hating entitlement,” writes Larry Penii for the New Statesman. Pathetic and infuriating in turns, the profiles selected for inclusion elicit gasps and manly chortles – and they raise questions as well. Is it right to mock these aggrieved and clueless young women, particularly the ones who seem less enraged than sad and bewildered at their utter lack of committed romantic success?

“This is the ugly bullying of those who already feel like losers,” says Arnie Fagg, a columnist for the Guardian who writes frequently about femininity. “It’s immoral to place them in the 21st Century equivalent of the medieval stocks to be mocked, abused and humiliated.” In an email, Fagg suggested that GGOKC could be “potentially dangerous,” driving those who are at a “low ebb emotionally” over an edge, from where mainstream feminists like Amanda Marcotte and Hugo Shyster have already leapt.

Without entirely dismissing Fagg’s concern that some young women’s rage or despair could be worsened as a result of GGOKC, there’s a lot more to the site than mockery. What’s on offer isn’t just an opportunity to snort derisively at the lovelorn malcontent; it’s a chance to talk about the very real problem of female romantic entitlement. The great unifying theme of the curated profiles is indignation. These are young women who were told that if they were great, then, as Larry Penii puts it, they feel that men “must be obliged to commit to them.” The subtext of virtually all of their profiles, the mournful and the bilious alike, is that these young women feel cheated and used. Raised to believe in a perverse social/sexual contract that promised access to men’s resources and long-term commitment in exchange for rote expressions of sexuality, these girls have at least begun to learn that there is no Magic Romance Fairy. And while they’re still hopeful enough to put up a dating profile in the first place, the Great Girls sabotage their chances of ever getting a husband with their inability to conceal their own aggrieved self-righteousness.

Great Girls of OkCupid provides an excellent opportunity to reiterate a basic truth: there is no right to romantic commitment. (Except, of course, with one’s own self.) Generations of children have misunderstood Thomas Jefferson’s line that we have the inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness. I was one such kid; when I learned those words in fourth grade (in 1976, the bicentennial year), I marched home and told my mother that I was owed joy. Mama firmly set me straight on the distinction between the right to want and the right to be given, and I have taken this lesson in rehashing cliches to heart ever since. Great Girls need a similar sort of come-to-Jesus talk to disabuse them, once and for all, of their insistence that in a just and democratic society, charming, reliable penis ought to be distributed equally to every Tara, Haley, and Deb who demonstrates a minimal level of sexiness. (And then I need a come-to-Jesus talk to disabuse myself of the notion that switching the places of Dick and Harry in the well-worn Tom, Dick, and Harry phrase is the height of creative writing.)

Romance with other people may be a basic human need, but unlike other needs, it can’t be a basic human right. It’s one thing to believe that the state ought to provide food, shelter, and health care to those who can’t afford these necessities of survival. It’s another thing to say that the state should ensure that even the hideous and the clueless have occasional relationships provided for them by others. While in Britain, a few local governments have sent aging and cranky women on trips to LA to see romance workers, aka gigolos, citing psychological need, not even the most progressive Europeans have suggested that anyone is entitled to have their romantic longings reciprocated. GGOKC reminds us just how many young women are outraged at this reality that pretty faces, femininity, and commitment-worthiness are not and never can be equally distributed.

Arnie Fagg and others suggest that it’s “immoral” to make fun of young women whose greatest crime seems to be that they’re stuck at the sad intersection of Not Hot and Dimwit. The plea to replace mockery with understanding is a familiar one; it’s what lies behind the calls to stop using the word “slut,” because women find it shaming. But in the case of Great Girls of OkCupid, disdain isn’t rooted in meanness as much as it is in self-preservation. While only a small percentage of these girls may be prone to imminent psychosis, virtually all of them insist, in one way or another, that men owe them. Mockery, in this instance, isn’t so much about being cruel as it is about publicly rejecting the Great Girls’ sense of entitlement to both relationship commitment and sympathy.

Besides the near-universal sense that they’ve been unjustly defrauded, the great commonality among these Great Girls is their contempt for men’s sexual interest. They rage about being “pump and dumped,” and complain about the hours spent fucking men without being given so much as a candlelit dinner in return for their investment. Sexuality, they make clear over and over again, is a mere tactic, a tool that they were promised would work to give them access to men’s economic and emotional resources. Their anger, in other words, is that their own deception didn’t work as they had hoped. It’s a monumental overask (?) to expect men to be gentle with the egos of women who only feigned noncommittal sexuality in order to get commitment.

So how should we respond, when, as Penii writes, “sexist twatwaddery puts photos on the internet and asks to be loved long time?” The short answer is that a lonely twatwad is still a twatwad; the fact that these girls are in genuine pain makes them more rather than less likely to mistreat the men they encounter. A rage rooted in anguish is no less dangerous because it comes from the Great Big Sad Place. For that reason alone, we shouldn’t make women’s pain into men’s problem to solve.

Do these women need dating profile makeovers? Yes, obviously; making an effort to have both good grooming and good manners is seldom a waste. What the Great Girls of OkCupid need far more than feminist braggadocio, tramp stamp removals and binge drinking rehab, however, are two essential reminders. No one is owed committed love. And no one who uses sex as a strategy for romance has the right to complain if she ends up with neither.

This Chateau Heartiste article reprinted from its original publication outlet.

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MIght be a conservative estimate

And a more truthful graph than the one you’ll find here.

A rascally reader adds: “They forgot to color a single arm for cute.”

ps Hi Jizzeblobs!

pps Attribution of this graph uncertain, but I think it comes from A Voice for Men.

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New meme over the starboard bow, courtesy of yours truly.

In case you didn’t get the message, the meme is a celebration of female suffrage and the wondrous blessings it has bestowed upon the United States of America. Thank you, ladies, for bringing freedom, freedom, and even more freedom to the most forgotten among us, and for shitting shining your light of moral rectitude on the poor benighted souls who wallow in ignorance. America is a better nation today for the collected contributions of your wisdom.

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Somewhere in Brazil, an alpha prankster (you’d need to be alpha to pull this off for as long as he did with a smirk on your face) trolled a slut walk full of unhygienic feminists hard. He rolled up and rolled his dick out in solidarity with the concept of slut pride, as seething, violent, hyper-emotional feminist cuntrags, who wouldn’t know irony if it walked up and boob-slapped them, threw stuff at him, missing 100% of the time from three feet out. Because girls can’t throw.

Awareness raised! For some reason, I have it in my mind that this guy is actually mischievous commenter “gig” moonlighting as a rapscallion. You go, gig!

Anyhow, the Youtube comments are gold, demonstrating once again that the best American comedy is to be found lurking on Youtube under anonymous troll cover. Ex:

So this is why my sandwich is still not made. Damn the March of the Sluts.

“There are only two ways of telling great humor without getting fined for sexual harassment — anonymously and posthumously.”
- Thomas Sowell

So I take it Brazil is now filled to the rafters with inane feminists who lack the awareness to perceive their hypocrisy. Yay globalization! We’ve come a long way from Blame it on Rio. I wonder if a single one of those shrieking skanks offended (shamefully aroused?) by the sight of penis blowin’ in the breeze grasps the irony that they betrayed the principle of their slut walk by reacting in judgmental horror to a guy who just wanted to empower himself and dress the way he wants. Can’t a guy stroll through a feminist coven proudly showcasing some serpent skin without being accosted, institutionally raped, and deprivileged by the matriarchy? There should be laws against women who victimize men because they can’t control themselves when they see penis. Hey hey, ho ho, penis haters got to go!

A master troll who knows his craft can smash a million pretty lies with one mighty unzip of his pants.

Let’s have a closer look at the alpha mug which drove a horde of feminists apoplectic with self-realization.

Readers sometimes ask what exactly “bemused mastery” looks like. I think this should answer their question.

The smirk of satisfaction. Don’t expect a cringing display of beta supplicating apologetics from this face. He knows he’s getting laid for his effrontery.

If you scan the crowd, you’ll see a few white knight omegaboy lasanga vegetables shitting their panties. Gotta love their utter demasculinizing uselessness out there. Lapdog mascots who will lick the boots of their cunty masters for a grateful nibble of fetid swamp snatch when the moon aligns with Uranus. But enough about Hugo Schwyzer.

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