We’re all familiar with the thousand-cock stare — the glazed, unfocused, hollow eyes of a broken slut in the grips of a delirium from having taken a few too many rides on the cock carousel.
There’s a male analogue to the thousand-cock stare:
This is the thousand-cuck stare, the tormented look of a man in the friendzone trying desperately to hide his pain from the world. His suffering is exquisite; always within sniffing distance of prime poosy but who may as well be twelve parsecs from ever reaching vaghalla. He is cucked by: a jerk boyfriend, a mandingo lover, his own futility, the cosmic overlord. Another man has what he wants, but the poor bastard doesn’t even have the dignity or good sense to stop being a party to his humiliation. Instead of admitting failure, he’ll pretend as if his blue balls are a badge of honor and his sexless circumstance is his free choice.
But his eyes will belie the massive backlog of sperm in his aching testes. If you see a man with the thousand-cuck stare, be on guard. There’s no telling when he might snap, like John Boehner remembering his mudsharking daughter and what his grandkids will look like.
During the most recent GOP debate (which I didn’t watch but read about afterward), Trump was asked about his beef with Mark Cuckersperg, which turned to the subject of the immigration scam known as H1Bs, a program which is essentially a green light for tech corps to import slave labor to do the jobs, at a fraction of the wage price, that Americans already do.
Trump evaded. Or, worse, according to some he gave a response that was at complete odds with his campaign’s own immigration policy paper (written by Jeff Sessions). It was his one big slip in the debate, but it was near-lethal to a campaign that won over people primarily on the strength of its promise to close the borders.
The original question referred to a tweet that Trump, or a Trump staff Twatter, made about Rubio, calling him “Mark Zuckerberg’s personal senator”, an insult aimed at Rubio’s support of the H1B scam. It was a great zing, because it was true. Yet Trump backed away from his own zinger, when he could have used that point in the debate to go for Rubio’s throat and possibly deliver a mortal wound that could knock Rubio out of the race. I mean, ferkrissakes, nobody likes Mark Cuckersperg, except maybe his waifu.
Trump missed a golden opportunity to stick the shiv in a true cuck, and likely hurt himself with his weak backpedaling.
My question to the CH readers: Why do you think Trump avoided the easy shot?
I have a few guesses:
– Trump doesn’t read his own policy papers, and is only against “open borders” inasmuch as the topic can be used as a stand-in for runaway rapes and violent crimes.
– Trump has a personal affinity for Rubio, and the tweet in question was made without his knowledge.
– Trump isn’t in this race to win it, and this was the start of him taking a dive for the candidate that he prefers, or that friends of his prefer. (This speculation requires believing that Trump only entered the race to knock ¡Jabe! out.)
– Trump wants to tone down his rebel image now that he’s made it through a couple of rounds, to improve his electability later on. (This is a risky strategy so soon in the nomination process.)
– Or, Trump was off his game. (We all have our beta moments.)
Spinning this less cynically, Trump might think he’s got this nomination wrapped up, and he’s already casting an eye to the general election, when he’ll have to deal with a 24/7 hostile leftoid media haranguing him about his “racism” against mexican peasants.
UPDATE
Trump has already clarified his brief immigration backpedal. Very nice. He’s a quick learner. This supports my guess that he was just off his game at the debate. Trump 2016!
A reader came up with an excellent idea: use reverse psychology (the old-fashioned term for trolling) against the women who exploit beta male chumps for money and emotional support without giving the betas any sex in return.
The concept is simple. Whenever you come across an attention whore on social media bragging to anyone who will listen about the asexual lump she keeps around as a “great friend” to “help raise her child (which is not his)”, you slyly imply, or directly state if that’s your style, that she and her beta toy “look like a great couple together!! ❤️❤️”
Attention Whoring Beta Exploiting Sociopath: “This is my best friend, Chodester McChode! He buys me stuff!”
Despicable You: “Aw you guys are so cute together! It’s obvious you two are in love.”
Attention Whoring Beta Exploiting Sociopath: “Whaaat? No, we’re not together….”
Despicable You: “Stop trying to be so modest. We get it, you have a real catch, and you don’t want to make your girl friends jealous.”
Attention Whoring Beta Exploiting Sociopath: “No, really… don’t get the wrong idea….. OMG I can’t belive you think that??!”
Despicable You: “Look at you playing coy. Come on, we can all see what a great match he is for you. You’re not going to do better honey!”
Etc, etc, insert shiv, etc. You can dial up the sadism as much as you like, and have fun while doing it. Bonus: I believe this will make a dent in America’s Attention Whoring Beta Exploiting Sociopath population. Or at least a dent in their willingness to humiliate their pet betas online to throngs of cackling cunts.
A thought occurred as the detritus of yet another beta male’s shipwrecked soul bobbed along the CH surf.
Where are the male friends of these abject betas to slap some sense into them?
A man needs male friends. He needs them a hell of a lot more than he needs female friends (and almost as much as he needs female lovers), because the potential to receive honest and learned guidance through the rough patches of life only exists with the former. A female friend can be great company, and even useful as a pivot to meet other women for much sex, but when crisis looms — romantic or otherwise — she won’t be the one to steer the hapless man away from terrible, avoidable mistakes of judgment.
Take JohnnyTampon. What a loser, right? But it didn’t have to be this way for him. Was there not one man, one male friend he could trust through the years, who would take him aside and verbally pimp slap the masochism out of him? Or were his male friends little sniveling manlets, Merchants of Mewl, all too eager to enable his self-sabotage? Was he simply friendless (despite his homemade video’s assertion to the contrary)?
The wages of SCALE. The wages of social and sexual atomization. The price we pay for radical individualism and postracial multicultural autonomy is big, sometimes small, but add it up and one day society is in hoc up to its eyeballs. JohnnyTampon’s dearth of Realtalking male buddies is one of those small prices that a fractured society pays, an insignificant detail to be sure in the grand scheme, but a personal ruination nearly as total as death. How many JohnnyTampons, broken men utterly denuded of dignity and manly valor, can America brush under the rug before the last connective fiber frays?
Courtesy of Twatter account @MPCtxt, a video of an alpha shitlord crashing a slutwalk protest and provoking gina tingles in a narcissistic, emotionally volatile, BPD feminist, while her white knight manlet looks on impotently and limp-wristedly, wondering if there’s anything at the scene he can put up his ass.
YOU *finger point* WHORE 😆 😆
One of the YouGroove commenters summed it up thusly and verily:
Observations from the first few minutes I’ve seen this video.
Dean:
– Alpha Body Language.
– Doesn’t Care if he sounds offensive.
– Based Hat + Sunglasses.
– Nice name, also.
– Defender of truth.
Random White-Knight:
– Manlet
– Body Paint
– Girl doesn’t allow him to slur Dean
Girl:
– Cries because she is having a psychological battle between her feminist ideology and her biological desire to fuck Dean, the alpha Christian.
Heh.
“I was excited for today to be a growing experience for me (in my bra and sharpie skin) and you are making me hurt so bad (in my fetid whore hole).”
This mentally deranged skank must’ve majored in Poopytalk 101. There’s America’s future. Write her epitaph in Sharpie marker on the giant dildo that replaced the Washington Monument.
***
TheDissident comments,
Somewhere around 9 minutes she described the details of her “rape” and it becomes so utterly obvious that she wholly invented a sexual assault as a means of convincing herself and her omega that she didn’t actually cheat on him.
That oft-repeated “1 in 5 college women are raped” lie should be rephrased as “1 in 5 college women whore it up and don’t want their beta boyfriends to find out so they concoct false sexual assault stories for sympathy from gullible white knights, feminists, and university administrators.”
An 18-year-old girl got fed up with her beta boyfriend’s self-pitying mewling and figuratively threw the razor blade at him and told him to finish the job.
According to prosecutors, Carter pressured her boyfriend to go through with suicide for almost a week before he carried out the act. She counseled him to overcome his fears; researched methods of committing suicide painlessly; and lied to police, his family and her friends about his whereabouts during the act itself and after, prosecutors said. […]
For more than a week in July 2014, Carter and Roy exchanged hundreds of messages in which Carter insisted that Roy would be better off dead.
“You’re finally going to be happy in heaven. No more pain,” she told him in one message. “It’s okay to be scared and it’s normal. I mean, you’re about to die.”
According to prosecutors, the two had struck up a romantic relationship — mostly online — in 2012. Her lawyer says they had only met a few times in person over the course of two years prior to Roy’s death.
“mostly online”. Translation: Dude was a beta orbiter driven to self-deliverance by the whiff of fine pussy so close yet so far away.
Text messages recovered by police, however, suggest that by 2014, Carter had gotten tired of Roy’s idle talk of suicide and she wanted him to go through with it — now.
“You always say you’re gonna do it, but you never do,” Carter complained. “I just want to make sure tonight is the real thing.”
Another time, she texted: “You can’t keep pushing it off, though. That’s all you keep doing.”
Chicks HATE HATE HATE indecisive men. If you’re gonna promise an HB8 a suicide, you had better deliver.
Carter was insistent, even when Roy steered the topic to other things:
ROY: How was your day?
CARTER: When are you doing it?
Girl has tight Plow Game.
But Carter didn’t love that idea, either, because she feared that Roy would make up an “excuse” to explain why it didn’t work.
“I bet you’re gonna be like ‘oh, it didn’t work because I didn’t tape the tube right or something like that,’” she texted him “You always seem to have an excuse.”
Beta males have excuses. Alpha males bust a move.
They texted throughout the day about the plans, about Roy’s doubts, and about Carter’s insistence that “the time is right” and that he was ready.
Girl is leading the conversation, setting the frame, creating compliance tests, and disqualifying. She’s a PUA in drag.
After his death, Carter became a self-proclaimed advocate for mental health.
She organized a fundraising tournament in Roy’s memory and posted on Facebook and Twitter about her attempts to save her boyfriend’s life.
“Even though I could not save my boyfriend’s life, I want to put myself out here to try to save as many other lives as possible,” she wrote on Facebook.
😆 The best defense is a good offense. She’s a reframe master.
A photo of the lovely (for real, WB):
Sociopathic girls are interesting to observe in the field. They are sort of like regular women, but with all the intrinsic female attributes pumped up to orbital escape velocity. Regular women despise indecisive beta males, but usually express their feelings by withholding sex or romantic reciprocation. Sociopathic women take their revulsion up a notch and steer the indecisive beta to valhalla.
Question for our skilled CH Game practitioners: How would you game this girl into doting submission?
UPDATE
Here’s a photo of Just Do It Girl after she dropped the human being mask and put her sadist’s face back on.
I dunno, I’m getting a semi thinking about escorting this demon spawn to the exquisite purgatory between pain and pleasure. Maybe in another time — say, five years into the future — when the Diversity™ threatens White existence, women like Carter will come in handy as psy ops against the enemy hordes.
PS Is everyone seeing the poll included in this post?
SATAN’S HANDMAIDEN: You can’t keep pushing it off, though. That’s all you keep doing.
YOU:
SATAN’S HANDMAIDEN: Are you saying I look like that bitch?
YOU:
SATAN’S HANDMAIDEN: *broken like a wild hellmare* I’m coming… over.
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Reader Mel Gibson watched a few minutes of last night’s Democrat debate, and came away with an astute observation regarding this photo of the candidates standing together on stage.
All with passive and weak body posture – cover genitals, smile like a submissive chimp. Who’s that guy on the left? He’s the only one who looks like he isn’t a pansy.
That’s Jim Webb on the far left (heh). And yes, he’s the only one who has a non-shitlib face and non-shitlib body language. And not coincidentally he’s probably the least insane of the Dem leftoids running for president.
Reminder: Clasping your hands in front of your crotch to hide your impudent manhood from the world (and this includes Hillary) is a tell of submission and weak betatude. I don’t remember Donald Fucking Trumpening ever standing in this manner at a major public speaking event, and I doubt he ever will. (But I bet ¡Jabe! was born with his hands cradling his frank and refried beans.)
