We’re back for the 2015 punchable shitlib face semifinals!
Bout 1: Matty “Yce Yce Baby” Yglesias vs Dylan “I’m hiding a buttplug” Matthews
Don’t be surprised if your hand reflexively curls into a fist looking at Yglesias. And multiple viewings which could conceivably inure you to his smug doughboy plushness don’t seem to lessen the urge (more like amplifies it).
Keep in mind, president buttsecks and his staff thought this milquetoast clad in jammies sipping from a hot mug of cocoa was a good representative to sell their healthcare boondoggle.
“Phew, do you smell that?! Oh, teehee, it was me!” Peter Pan, meet yourself in fifty years.
******
Stop the lugenpresses! We have a last-minute punchable shitlib face addition to the cards! He’s a former heavyweight champion of punchability, and a million Buzzfeed fans demanded his inclusion, so the winner of the Yglesias vs Matthews match will advance to a bonus bout against
McKay Coppins.
my hand… curling into a fist……. cannot stop it…….. cannot……. *SWING*……. *CRACK*……….ahhhhhhhhhh
McKay Coppins, for those who really must know the bios of our nation’s listicle artisans, is an ur-shitlib who lies for Buzzfeed. His mug is making the rounds because he was at a recent Trump rally and claimed to have overheard someone yell “Light the motherfucker on fire!” to a protestor; “someone” likely meaning him, a left wing plant. Look at that doughy concave croissant Coppins sports for a face. It’s easy to picture him screeching “light the motherfucker on fire” in a faggy tone with a barely-concealed smirk as he thinks of all the good copy this will generate for his online bathhouse.
In what some are calling an upset akin to Buster Douglas-Mike Tyson, Matty “Polar Bear” Yglesias edged out [insert double entendre here] Ezra “Null Entity of Nepotism” Klein in Bout 1.
Bout 2: Dylan Matthews doubled Alex Pareene’s vote total. Matthews’ mug inspires twice as many knuckle sandwiches as Pareene’s.
Bout 3: John Scalzied will be overjoyed that Pajamaboy routed him for backpfeifengesicht honors. No doubt Scalzied was dreading his preteen daughter, who can bench press more than him, impulsively clocking him right in the kisser if he had won.
Bout 4: Lindsey Graham didn’t need BACKROOM shenanigans to easily defeat Devin Faraci. (Though it looks like the two of them would’ve loved backroom play together.)
Shitlibs are renowned for their watery-eyed, chipmunk-cheeked, effeminate, punchable faces. Why not set up a tournament-style bracket to find the most punchable, shitlib-iest face ever, as determined by reader vote? Why ask why?
(Actual shitlibs will not be duking it out ringside for advancement to the March Manlets Final Four, as much as we would all like to watch Ezra Klein take an uppercut to his dainty jawline, because actual shitlibs don’t know how to use their fists for anything besides fitting them up rectums.)
First, what crucially defines the archetypical shitlib face? It’s like obscenity; you know it when you see it. If you want a more specific accounting, I’d say it’s a combination of general effeminacy, neotenous underdevelopment, softness of mien, suppleness of cheeks and facial extremities, and all of it inflated with an expression of undeserved self-worth and haughty self-regard informed not by evident accomplishment but by bitter clinging to an ego-assuaging belief in intellectual superiority.
Plus, of course, there’s the self-serving hypocrisy, the phony sanctimony, and the insufferable proclivity to snark, which shitlib faces radiantly project like a bioluminescent mating signal to bluehair feminist fatties.
We begin.
Welcome, one and all, to the 2015 Punchable Shitlib Face Tournament to crown the winner of Most Punchable Shitlib Face in the bathhouse! The tournament is organized into four bouts, and winners will advance to the semi-finals.
First Match: Ezra Klein vs Matty Yglesias
Don’t let his moisturized skin and plush bee-stung lips fool you; Ezra’s got the heart of a slithery lizard, and he jives with the disingenuousness of an Inuit sophist. You want to knock those glasses right off him, and maybe relocate his horse choppers to the back of his throat. Backpfeifengesicht to the max!
Ah, Matty Yce. The “juveniles” who polar bear’ed him didn’t hit hard enough to remove the antiWhite smugness perched on his porcine mug. And there are those yenta glasses again, begging to fly off his nose in a slo-mo shattered glass arc to the ground, trailed by a few of his molars. Don’t worry, if you’re a black guy taking a potshot at him, he’ll never mention your race and write about you only once, in passing. If you’re White, he’ll spend years milking his victimization and pursuing a crusade against White male patriarchal privilege.
These two may be work butt buddies, and they may look equally punchable (give or take ten cheek-stuffed pounds), but only one can emerge victorious as the face that launched a thousand fists.
******
Second Match: Alex Pareene vs Dylan Matthews
You may wonder if all these shitlibs are brothers from the same mother. The morphology similarities are eerie, right down to the weak vision requiring old lady eyeglasses and the mischievous “I’m sitting on a buttplug” grin.
Dylan Matthews, another juicevoxer with plump BJ lips, zero muscle tone, the jawline of a lamprey, and those shitlib-defining glasses. Gaydar is pinging loudly, this guy is definitely a power bottom and keeps a diary of all the anal ailments he collects from Grindr hookups. He spends his free time building his collection of animal penises in jars.
******
Third Match: John Scalzi vs Pajamaboy
You know him as that guy who wears a dress, signals his antiWhite bona fides hard to echo chamber shitlibs, and thinks the term “dudebros” is clever. Now you can know him as the guy with a face made for absorbing blows.
Pajamaboy is an icon of the Butt Naked presidency. It’s hard to beat that low T combo of pajama, cocoa, hipster glasses, and oddly prepubertal face for sheer punchability. It’s such the complete package, he inspires you to want to punch more than just his face, and maybe bring your buddies in for a round of walloping.
Would a punchable shitlib face list be complete without a gay cuckservative representative? (Practically, there is no difference between a shitlib and a cuckservative.) How the fuck Lindsey has managed to hold onto power for so long in South Carolina, one of the Shitlordiest states in the Union, is a mystery. No matter how much this Open Borders/Open Anus closet case lisps angrily about Donald “I. Don’t. Care.” Trump, his face will forever remain the visage of a man begging for a five-fingered sandwich… and prostate massage.
After this post, if your knuckles aren’t bleeding, you aren’t trying.
It’s Sweeps Week at Le Chateau. Grab your paleo-friendly tree nuts and smugly recline at your standing entertainment center for a delirious week of the most politically incorrect, shitlib-triggering lulz!
Reader Scanman has a new non sequitur text game routine that involves Taylor Swift and Nazi memes.
Met typical blue city lawyer cunt a few weeks ago at party and got her number. She texted me out of the blue last Thurs. while I was out drinking with a buddy. Solely for my own amusement, I responded with nothing but Taylor Swift nazi memes (pictures of Taylor Swift with Hitler quotes attributed to her etc.). Nothing else. Not a single word of actual response from me, just Taylor Swift pics saying shit like “Gas the kikes, race war now. — Taylor Swift. Truly non sequitur, borderline psycho shit.
Got confusion, then a string of (faux) sanctimony. 80% I ignored, 20% I responded with nothing but more Taylor. Then silence then a “you’re so bad” 20 min later. You know you’re in when you get a “you’re terrible” or “you’re such an asshole” etc. Had sex with her two days later. Probably won’t repeat but ZFG is the closest thing a mortal man can come to actually casting spells.
I’d zlzlzozll too if it weren’t so dead serious. Recall that Ash Carter is the same Pentagon Chief who said this following the Paris Muslim terror attacks:
U.S. Defense Secretary Ash Carter is calling the attacks in Paris “an assault on our common human dignity.”
The Pentagon chief says “the United States stands with the people of France and its vibrant, multicultural democracy.”
Are there any American ruling elite left who aren’t the equivalent of AIDS storehouses?
Stick a fork in America? No, we’re way past that. Scatter Her ash carters to the wind and start over.
Need a bittersweet laugh? Chicks with a fever for the flavortown of a jerkboy inmate can now more easily connect to him through a new app called “TextBehind: Text-To-Inmates“. (Note: I am not making this up)
TextBehind® enables you to communicate with your incarcerated loved ones nationwide using text messages with photos, custom greeting cards and electronic money orders. Unlimited inmate reply letters are electronically delivered back to your smart phone and email at no extra charge.
Due to the inherent demographics of prison populations (majority dindu) most of the app users are livin’ large mamma jamas. But there are some white chicks in the mix. I expect white women to partially close the inmate-loving gap with black women. In the meantime, the few K-selected black betas will struggle to make a dent in their race’s genetic heritage, unless they opt for white fatties.
This one is my favorite user feedback comment:
Love this app. This is so much more than an app. To be able to send loved ones photos and money without having to wait in line at a post office is amazing. I’ve had a few issues but when I emailed text behind they emailed me back within the hour and went as far as to give me a call to ensure the issues were resolved and they were. I absolutely love this app. It safe and secure. Just ensure if your loved one gets transferred to another facility edit that information under your profile.
😆 Alpha jerkboy inmates get tit pics and money. Betas get empty wallets and blue balls.
Isn’t it about time Chateau Heartiste is awarded something for being so far ahead of the “chicks dig jerks” curve? People scoffed at first, but now there are apps to help women meet the badboys of their dreams. Goooooooooooooodbye, America!
A group calling itself “Overweight Haters Ltd” is handing out leaflets on the British subway.
“perverted chubby-lover”
😆 😆 😆
I swear this fat shaming shiv could have been pulled straight from the CH sheath, word for word.
Are the Chateau’s very special lessons percolating through the wider culture? This ‘umble blog doesn’t have millions of daily readers, but it doesn’t take much visibility to get an idea, a truthful idea long suppressed and now revealed with gleeful sadism, to make a “memetic sweep” through society’s DNA.
The Awakening is Happening, on all fronts: race, sex, truth, beauty. And on the banner of the shitlords, an emblem flaps victorious in the crisp autumn breeze:
***
Why are the police investigating the provenance of this Realtalk™? Doesn’t Britain have a lingering respect for free speech? Or is that a quaint White Man invention destined for the ash heap of history? One could look at this authoritarian overstepping as the sort of frenzied reaction a ruling elite makes just before:
