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Archive for the ‘Funny/Lolblogs’ Category

From Craigslist (remember that site?):

thanks again for leaving me out in the rain! w4m

my phone is now ruined, so I’ll have to resort to this – the way we first met. here.

we both knew the other was married… but now that I tell you I’m pregnant, you have nothing to say… your only reaction being to leave the bar and go hail a cab!?

i ran after you for about half a block until almost movie-like it began to rain and i just felt like a whore.

so i stopped.

those raindrops felt like an amplified otherworldly expression of my soul dying.

please at least talk to me through here. tell me how you feel. i think safer speaking here anyhow. more freely. quasi anonymously.

how we started…

“I’m pregnant.”

Another option is to toss her a Groupon for Planned Spinsterhood services.

It’s an interesting speculation if the gotcha pregnancy risk profiles of married and single women are the same. A single woman faces the prospect of raising a bastard on her own, which is a powerful disincentive to seeing it through. A married woman might similarly want an abortion before her beta hubby finds out, but then she also might calculate that a cuckolding is worth risking discovery say, ten years down the road. As a player cad, you must weigh the available incentives influencing the “accidentally” pregnant single or married woman, and decide which outcome you can most tolerate.

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Sometimes a song that I’m singing in my head will escape from its skullblocked cage and make a run for it across the border of my lips. When this happens, I can go fifteen minutes, maybe hours given the retrospective nature of the discovery, before my conscious awareness is alerted to the fact that I’ve been whistling a happy tune in public like a damnfool. It’s a bad habit.

One of these times, my whistling must have been especially loud and taunting to fragile ears, because I was shocked into awareness by the shrieking of a chubby gargoylette, who whipped around from in front of me and demanded, “Did you just wolf whistle at me!?”

Caught completely off-guard, I stared at her flushed cheeks and fleshed body for a half second, dumbfounded. She continued glowering at me, as if seriously expecting an answer to her accusation. Pulling my head back a little, knitting my brow and squinting, I blurted, “Fuck no!”

She fumed. If she were a pig, which with a small tweak of one or two genes she could’ve easily crossed the species barrier, she’d have stamped her hooves in the mud a few times, threatening a charge. As it was, she turned on her heels while delivering a perfunctory “fuck you” and flipped me the fat bird over her shoulder as she walked away.

I felt embarrassed for the spectacle that had caught the eyes of a few passers-by, but also satisfied that my reflexive defensive parry poked a pig in the id.

I moved on, pissed that a pig deigned to shovel me a handful of her compacted shit, and pissed that I lost the tune in my head. smh…smh…smh… the rest of the walk I wondered, in vague outlines of indignation, how many American women were miserable in this way, cracking under the pressure of their fat and their delayed marriage schedules and their royalty complexes. How many women I saw every day were hiding blocks of TNT up their asses, just waiting for some misapprehended spark to blow the lid off their facade?

The feminine American woman harboring not a lick of resentment toward men is as rare as the HB10. I wonder, equally, if she knows this? I know it.

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From a Facebook feed:

Self-report bias may make sex survey data less than reliable indicators of when-the-lights-are-off sexual behavior, but widely-held cultural perceptions that can elicit knowing chuckles from most people are often windows into real world behaviors of a Silent Depravity that aren’t captured by pencil and paper divining tests.

The graphic above doesn’t say that married couples are all swinging dicks ruling over Golden Whore concubines. What it taps into instead is a recognition that the premarital dating market is skewed in ways big and small toward the advantage of alpha males who, when they and their female admirers are left to their own devices, tend to juggle concurrent lovers while women who catch the eye of these lordly alpha males tend to ignore lesser men for their true desires.

This sexual market reality may dissipate under the constraints of the marriage market, but it never fully disappears. One ignores deeply rooted psychological and libidinous differences between the sexes at peril of their own romantic fortunes.

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There was a “Go-Topless Day” in NY this past Sunday. Two hundred (mostly) women and four hundred boobs marched in protest of those wrong kinds of white people in those horribly backward flyover states who force women to wear burqas over their nipples when out in public.

Hey I am all for women — but only cute women — having the freedom to display their naked bodies in public, as long as those women accept that men have the freedom to leer at their naked bodies and Instagram photos of their titties for Dad back home. But I’m thinking these weirdo cult feminists wouldn’t be down with that part of the individual freedom deal. Equal rights, yo.

Always with these slut parades there are mixed in with the occasional cuties an insane asylum of grotesqueries and/or subversives who provide fodder for normal people to point and jeer. This time it was a couple of men with huge, pendulous manboobs demanding the right to swing their milktits in little Johnny’s face. At least, I think they’re men, but who can tell for sure. Freaks have a knack for looking like they’re stuck in the pupal stage morphing from one species to another.

There’s one manboob, all the way to the right.

Here he is with his buddy, in a clearer shot.

Let your manboobs out, freedom fighter! Why weren’t their nips pixelated? Two dirigibles sporting flapjack mammaries is less offensive to the taste than female boobs? If the goal here is to uphold norms of journalistic conduct, these two gelatinous blobs should’ve been blurred head to toe.

“Slut pride” is synonymous with “civilization perishing”. By the time your culture gets to the point where women are proud for doing something that their grandmothers were proud of NOT doing, you should have your post-collapse plans squared away.

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GIRL: “Are you gay?”

MAN:

Perfection is rarely seen so clearly in the wild.

Sending this pic to a frisky filly may not guarantee the bang, but goddamn will it leave a smile on your face. And likely on hers, too.

PS And here’s the worst — and also the funniest — reply to any girl’s obnoxious question:

IF A GIRL EVER SAID THAT TO ME I WOULD END HER LIFE BY PUMMELING HER WITH SOME RIGHTEOUS FISTS OF EXTREMELY MASCULINE FURY THEN WHILE SHE WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR IN A PILE OF HER OWN BLOOD I WOULD PUT A BUN IN HER OVEN. FOR CLARITY, I MEAN THAT I WOULD LITERALLY STUFF A BREAD ROLL UP HER VAGINA. THEN I WOULD WATCH SOME TOM CRUISE MOVIES. BE CAREFUL NOT TO BE CONSUMED BY THE DARKNESS

h/t yeahokcool. This may be the first time ALL CAPS wasn’t overkill.

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Nothing like a leetle auto-fill search query to pry open the lid on the female id.

The urge to trade up is stronger in women than in men, both because male sexual attractiveness is contextual and mutable and because women are disposed by the circumstances of their biology to be more careful about their mate choices. Women, unlike men, are practically born with their SMV already established. A pretty wife will stay attractive to her husband as long as she stays pretty. There’s not much contextual nudging, other than drastic weight gain and aging, that will greatly influence a woman’s SMV. So that’s why we uncover evidence that there is greater concern among women about lost attraction for their boyfriends and husbands than there is among men about lost attraction for their wives.

Continuing with the theme, here’s the same query after a small syntax change:

The rewording is subtle, but important. The first query is premised on an accepted loss of attraction, and a post-hoc search for rationalization. This second query is premised on a deeper worry about a missing attraction that should be there. It’s the type of wording a despondent searcher might use if he or she was trying to make sense of the dying love, and interested in fixing the “problem”.

The results are telling. The first hit — men asking why they aren’t attracted to their wives anymore — implies that there was previous attraction, but some mysterious occurrence (age? fatness?) changed the equation, and now the men want to know how to go back to the way things were.

The women, starkly, ask in a way that could be fairly interpreted as never having had attraction for their husbands (or niceguys). They have these wet noodle beta hubbies and orbiting niceguys whom they are inculcated by everyone around them to lust after, and yet despite the social pressure they can’t understand why the men they should desire leave them feeling… unmoved down there.

The final search result reinforces the point about social pressure yielding to primal desire. Presumably non-black women, steeped in a culture that propagandizes the sexual and romantic allure of black men, struggle with deeply innate feelings that are at odds with the juggernaut of cultural messages telling them to feel the opposite way.

Female hypergamy is real, even if the term is off-putting to around-the-way sadists. Cultural influence is real, too, but largely ineffectual against hindbrain desire. Intense and persistent media propaganda can only effect changes in human mate choice at the farthest margins, where the weakest-willed are most susceptible to social pressures to fit in with a mirage. Innate sexual desire is a prime force too powerful for the depraved elite’s mindfuck machines to overcome.

Hat tip, reader “Humans are animals” for the idea.

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Toddler Game

Too funny. Even funnier: There are some gems of game to be mined from this humor. A reader writes,

It’s titled “Things You Can’t Do When You’re Not a Toddler”. I say it’s Things You Do When You Don’t Give a Fuck.

I’m going to walk up to girls and announce that I sleep in a big boy bed.

The “big boy bed” line is gold, and would work if your delivery is stone-faced. Other examples of “Toddler Game” that can be modified for adult-sized game.

- Walking naked in front of a girl you just started dating. (“I need these moments of freedom.”)
– “I’m 35-and-a-half.” Good all-purpose answer to girls asking your age.
– Hiding behind a pant leg or a chair when a girl asks you a personal question.
– Swapping a girl’s glasses and examining them with focused intent.
– Throwing stuff on the ground.

CH has covered this territory before. Children are great real life naturals at game. You’ll get a better education in how to tease women by watching little boys interact with little girls. We forget these life lessons as adulthood robs us of our wonderment and carefree attitude. Chicks dig the free and easy boy inside.

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