Archive for the ‘Comment Winners’ Category

Bill P, commenting on the strange circumstances surrounding the untimely death of Dave Goldberg, low-T house husband of überfeminist shrike and psychopathic liar, Sheryl “Lean Into The Pay Gap Myth” Manjawberg:

Steve, it’s your blog, but I don’t think the line of inquiry is helping you.

Accidents happen. They probably could not determine whether it was the fall, head trauma, heart trouble, or a stroke that was fatal.

Evidently they could:

According to the Mexican medical report, it was head trauma and accompanying hypovolemic shock that caused Mr. Goldberg’s death.

This means he lost over 20% of his blood from a 4cm head wound, which was a severe, crushing wound that broke the skull. How you get that from falling off a treadmill beats me. That’s the kind of wound you’d expect someone who got hit full force on the head with rebar to have. Or perhaps hit with a dumbbell… The skull is pretty hard. Typically, if you fall and hit your head, it bounces, giving you a concussion. This can be deadly, but it doesn’t involve a “pool of blood” or open skull fracture. The kinds of impacts that create those wounds are seen in auto and occasionally bicycle accidents, which involve considerably more velocity and force than a fall off a treadmill, which operates at a maximum speed of only 10mph, and in Goldberg’s case probably more like four or five.

The details here, the reticence about revealing the cause of death, the sudden departure of the family and the crazy events in Puerto Vallarta on May 1 raise a lot of questions about Goldberg’s death.

He is also a private person — 99.995% of Americans don’t give a FF who the husband of the COO of facebook is.

No, he is not a “private person.” Sheryl Sandberg has used her family as the model for the contemporary American woman, pushing her “lean in” concept all over the country. She has sponsored events for girls and served as the public female face of Facebook. She calls herself a feminist. She actively pushes her ideals on the rest of us. Goldberg was a part of that package. He was no recluse, but rather very much a part of the debate about the role of the contemporary husband and wife.

Whenever public figures seem to be hiding something, it’s worth following up on it to see why.

Maybe he did die in an accident. Maybe the treadmill really did fling him headfirst into some corner at a high velocity, breaking his skull. If that’s the case, shouldn’t we know how on earth treadmills can do that so as to prevent more of these accidents?

And if he was murdered, shouldn’t that inform Americans’ decisions when it comes to travel destinations? Shouldn’t it give us more reason to monitor our border for potential criminal fugitives from Mexico?

Eenterestink. This story has legs.

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There were a lot of quality comments this week, but it was past time to give one of CH’s favorite running gag maestros, GasButtox, the honor and privilege of the COTW trophy. It’s time to give the man his doo…dy.


An ambitious lass…
Who wants to have class…
Knows that my ass….
Makes whopping quantums of gas.

It will be your privilege and honor to detox my buttox. You will be using a turmeric essence, to generate a nice golden hue.

What put this particular GasButtox sonnet over the top was the “turmeric essence” quip. For those who don’t know, FeministX, aka little spoon, is of Indian heritage.

If GasButtox and GBFM were in the same room together, their conversation would be very entertaining.

“lzzlolzzlol alpha fux beta bux”
“alpha essence beta buttox”
“lzzlllzzllll more cockas for you”
“milk milk lemonade in front go the cockas out the buttox my gas is made”
“lzzl bernankified wimmins loolll”
“a slut so crass, bernankified to the last, perches behind my ass, to eight ball my salubrious gas.”

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Reservoir Tip slips the thematic quip in his anecdotal blip,

Had a great, short exchange with a German girl I’ve been seeing:

“You know… I’m getting ready to leave town, so maybe I’ll actually take you on anise little date before I go.”

“Out of your apartment?!”

It struck me: every date I’ve been on with this girl has been she coming to my apartment to hang out, or me making her take me to get food or groceries. I’ve never spent a penny on her, or taken her anywhere even remotely interesting.

This is the same girl that told me what she liked about me was the fact that I’m an asshole, and all her ex-boyfriends were lost puppies.

The things you can get away with when you have the right attitude…

So true. When I’ve been on top of my game, full of self-indulgent attitude, the women in my life would demand so little, and give so much. Fancy dinners? No. How about crashing in bed all day, fucking and channel flipping. That’s the shared intimacy which makes fond romantic memories you might tell your grandkids with sufficient euphemistic nuance.

The right attitude is the equivalent of eight figure bank, seven inches extra height, six circles of social connections, five academic credentials, and four plates on bench press. The Attitude is irreplaceable.


eofahapi is our runner-up COTW:

I believe that the reason men experience such intense highs and lows, is because for them their emotion is not used as much. They do not talk or live in emotions, they live in logic, so when that emotion boils over, it is raw, uncultivated, childlike and intense. It is extremely endearing.

Women love a stoic man not necessarily for his stoicism, but for the anticipation they feel for his white hot passion when he is roused from his stoic slumber.


Finally, a COTW consolation prize goes to PA, for his recounting an experience with a svelte sexpot that would send the typical tenth wave millennial fug feminist into a rage spiral of rape-flecked spittle.

Confession from my early 20s. Hotel party, lots of people and drinking. This dude and I both gun for the same chick. Unfortunately she goes for him. He was a grade-A asshole alpha, so I understand. Later everyone crashes in various beds, floor, etc. Dude, chick, and I share a queen size bed and I get woken up by their fumbles at fucking. He got whiskey dick and they gave up. Now I’m horny and wanna do something.

She seems asleep. So I coyly put my arm on her, pretending its in my sleep. I stop and gauge her response. Nothing. Almost, like she’s pretending to be asleep. I tell myself to go ahead, and I slide my hand up her T-shirt, no bra underneath. And I am ready for her to jump awake angry, in which case I’d say “sorry, I was asleep and probably thought you’re my last girlfriend.”

But she is still. I friggin swear, by her breathing, that she is pretending to be asleep. So I start playing with her breasts, gently at first and then boldly. Horny as hell at this point, I slide my hand down her ribcage, her tight tummy, down to the elastic of her shorts. and she moves her hand to block me, at which point I know she’s awake and then I travel back north.

Female coyness is an evolved behavioral tic to fool men — and. come to think it, fool women as well — about women’s rapacious sexual urges. Of course, a girl can pretend to be asleep to receive the caresses of that slow hand without bearing the emotional dissonance that often accompanies prompt sexual submission to an illicit interloper.


Finally? One more! Cutting deep with the poison-tipped shiv, Musashi scans the Vox staff for signs of dormant testosterone, and draws a conclusion which earns him (her?) a consolation runner-up COTW.

If the grid went down everyone in that photo would be dead within 24 hours.
Those people won’t last a day once the diversity gets riled up.

They could use the equity in their blue city fantasyland one-bedroom condos to pay protection money, which might buy a few of them a week’s worth of extra life. Beyond that, there’s no amount of semantic evasion that’ll save them once the diversity hits the fan.

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Porter writes with an acrid wistfulness about the story of Anthony Stokes, the Goodboy™ who recently died in a stolen car he crashed while fleeing from police after an attempted burglary. Stokes had a backstory that makes his case more interesting than the usual Dindu Nuffin shenanigans. Under pressure from SJWs and “civil rights groups” intervening on Stokes’ behalf, the hospital overturned its original decision to deny Stokes a heart transplant, the first decision having been based on his already lengthy history of delinquency. Stokes then got the heart that saved his life… for a couple of years anyway.

There aren’t that many viable hearts to go around (and the ones that are available for transplant are disproportionately from white donators, pathologically altruistic beyond the end), so hospitals have to make tough choices who gets a new heart. The life of Anthony “muhfuggin heart” Stokes likely meant the death of a better person. Porter:

Deserving recipients must die so that SJWs may preen. If the staff of Think Progress were the only ones awaiting organs, I would bury every heart in Anthony Stokes’ casket.

Reminder: This is the fine upstanding citizen saved (for a criminally short stint) by modern medicine:

This is one of the horrible racists who died waiting in the back of the line for a new heart:

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Think Progress knows. They and their ilk sold their black hearts to the devil in exchange for the earthly reward of pompous self-righteousness. Fuck them to hell.

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COTW winner fredmertz reprimands regular troll “james blond” aka thwack for assuming museums will still be around when the whitey race becomes a relic of the past.

No nigga gonna pay fo a.museum, specially one fo da white man! Only exhibit I can see is a statue of a giant EBT card. ”Is it true, daddy? We used to get money for nuthin’?” “Dass true Quantavious…it be over now. White man gone…”

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da GBFM lzzzzlzzl™ slams the terse poetical verse and wins this week’s COTW.

instagram was invented
to capitalize
on the free butts and boobieszizi
women were
to share with
the world

once upon a time
civilization saw that
a womenz buttz and boobz
were for husband
and that a girlz could not
share her buttz and boobz
with teh worldz
as her father owuld not
let her

dat was long agaoznz


I really like that wistful coda, especially the clever formulation of “ago” which could be confused for “agonies”.

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Some context is needed for this week’s edition of COTW. That venerable company embodying the masculine virtues, Starbucks, recently announced a campaign called “Race Together” (Twit tag: #RaceTogether).

Commenter elmer asked,

Do you patronize the Starbucks in your upscale Bohemian neighborhood? How will you respond to the barista’s entreaties to have a dialogue about race in America?

To which driveallnight, our unanimous COTW winner, replied,

I now request my black coffee be prepared “straight up nigga”

:lol: my sides.

Speaking of Starcucks, it’s time for a….

#HateTogether UPDATE!

Via The Seminary of Christian Sadists:

Very respectable troll. America’s aggregate T level just rose a notch, from sloppy wet vagina to erect vestigial clitpenis.

I’m afraid if the white leftoid elite and their vibrant shock troops insist on humiliating non-elite whites, their call for war will be answered with twice the venom and three times the scorched earth. They asked for it…

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