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Archive for the ‘Funny/Lolblogs’ Category

A reader writes about a banner put up by an Argentinian wife whose husband had an affair with a woman named Eliana.

So making its rounds as the meme-of-the-day all over twitter/the Internet, about two weeks ago, was this photo of a banner that a scorned woman posted on the street near her house, in a city in Argentina (where I live):

Translated, it means: “Eliana Dora Duek: You enjoyed fucking my husband – and he gave it to you in the ass! Veronica”

Here’s what I don’t understand: why did the scorned woman Veronica *want to publicize to everyone in her neighborhood* that her husband was cheating on her?. What is Veronica thinking, and what is she trying to achieve? And what’s the significance/importance of the “ass” detail?

Women are born with a martyr mentality brain module that guides their every thought process. Thus, when a wife suffers infidelity she does not think that advertising this fact will redound negatively to her. She can announce to the world that her husband cheated on her with a mistress who let him do her in the ass, and the wife won’t ever feel like this embarrasses her in any way. Quite the opposite; she will win allies and supporters to her side.

But a man advertising the fact that his wife made a cuckold of him will win no allies and supporters. People won’t rally around him and give him group hugs to lift his spirits while calling the wife an ungrateful whore. Instead, most people will feel pity for him and want to get far away from his problems.

Why the difference? *Women are reproductively more valuable than men*. People, men and women, are wired to rush to the defense of a scorned woman more readily. It is in the nature of both sexes to immediately assume the worst about the man and the best about the woman in any domestic dispute. A scorned wife? Poor dear. He’s a pig and a lout. A scorned husband? I heard they were having trouble.

So a wife who publicizes her husband’s affair can expect more social benefit from it. She has not lowered her sexual market value by admitting to being the victim of infidelity because women’s SMV is almost entirely wrapped up in their looks. On the contrary, a man who publicizes his wife’s affair HAS lowered his sexual market value, because a man is judged on conditional status-based metrics, one of which is his ability to keep a woman happy and loyal. It’s preselection in reverse: the unfaithful wife has *deselected* the duped husband.

I predict, then, that you will see a lot more of these public shaming tactics from women against their cheating men then you will from men against their cheating women. And I base this on a simple grasp of evolutionary psychology fundamentals. (There’s a reason “Don’t Date Him Girl!” is a popular website without an equivalently popular “Don’t Date Her Man!” site.)

Interestingly, the wife also gets some benefit from outing the mistress. By naming her and describing her actions in lurid detail, she is tarred with the implied slut brush. Women will sneer at her wanton ways, and men will want to seek her out for sex (but not for commitment! Which would be a victory for the spurned wife.) It takes two to tango, and all that, and wives are not blind to the threat that younger, hotter, tighter competition poses to their marriages. The ass detail was simply embroidery to maximize the slut smear.

If I were friends with this wife, I would tell her that she might have avoided all these problems if she let her husband spelunk the stool cavern. Anal love is the balm that binds.

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Piss Bomb

Reader Alex wants to know if this photo bomb of a guy pissing in the background (aka ‘piss bomb’) is sufficiently alpha:

Just another HS student at the Chateau. Was strolling through the internet and found this photo which I think has the right attitude towards posing for photos with women.

only problem is he’s looking at the camera. Do you say yay or nay to pissing in a photo where your girlfriend or fb tries to strike an attention grabbing pose? I think it’s a neg, a tease, and dhv all in the same photo; it shows you don’t give a shit about who sees your johnson, in fact exposing it to the world, while putting down your girl’s attempts to grab attention by ruining her photo and turning your back to her. Simply genius in my opinion.

I agree, the piss bomb is an alpha maneuver. It’s especially demeaning to a girl who is trying to look hot for the cameraman and her pussy posse on Facebook (posse includes both girls and beta orbiters). Butr it’s only alpha in the sense that the pisser will receive high fives from his buddies. The chance of him closing the deal with this hot babe is low, unless she turned around and was impressed by his girth and urination distance. If you squint, it almost looks like she’s arching her back so that the pee splashes on her ass.

As for his looking at the camera like a goofball, I think it would have been funnier if he casually stared at the horizon with an expressionless face, but he was probably so excited to get away with this shot that he couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear. Also, I’m certain the camerman was in on it. The guy taking the shot is either the boyfriend who’s playing a prank, or a frustrated LJBF who is lashing out passive aggressively. If the cameraman and the pisser don’t know each other, then my hat’s off to that dude for managing to insert himself into that photo without tipping off the shooter. My guess is he was facing away from them so they couldn’t see his dick out, and then swiveled at just the right moment and let loose with a stream of golden goodness as the shutter clicked.

The world needs more of these piss bombs to prick the ego bubbles of the Facebook generation girls, who have had their heads grow too large from constant fawning flattery every time they post a status update or a dumb photo of themselves drinking shots with their slutty girlfriends. All hail the piss bomb man, for he will be the savior of the West.

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The gay men and fat ugly goths sluts are out in force and want the safe, cocooned and civilized world to know that they should bear no responsibility for their own well-being at all.

An international series of protests known as SlutWalks, sparked by a Toronto police officer’s flippant comment that women should avoid dressing like “sluts” to avoid being raped or victimized, is taking root in the United States. […]

“It was taking the blame off the rapist and on the victim,” said Nicole Sullivan, 21, a student at the University of Massachusetts-Boston and an organizer of the SlutWalk planned Saturday in that city. “So we are using these efforts to reclaim the word ‘slut.'”

In addition to Boston, marches are planned in cities including Seattle, Chicago, Philadelphia, Reno, Nevada, and Austin, Texas.

“The event is in protest of a culture that we think is too permissive when it comes to rape and sexual assault,” said Siobhan Connors, 20, of Lynn, Massachusetts, another Boston organizer. “It’s to bring awareness to the shame and degradation women still face for expressing their sexuality … essentially for behaving in a healthy and sexual way.”

There’s nothing like a good, old-fashioned reclamation project. Of course, such a project is tacitly admitting that the thing you are reclaiming is a dung heap.

I find that you can know a lot about why people profess to believe what they do by looking at them.

Maybe they should rename it the Moob Walk?

These are very ugly, gender inspecific people who are loving the opportunity to express their sexuality free from the rejection they typically get everywhere that isn’t headlined a slut walk. It’s a “Hey, look at me! I’m a sexual being, too, underneath this fifty pounds of blubber and black eyeliner. Rapists are bad BAD people who want to ravish me in my skimpy muffin top support jeans. Oh god, I came.”

I’ve previously ripped this idiotic slut walk argument to shreds, so there’s no need to repeat that here. Instead, let’s hoist a shimmering bejeweled cane in honor of the mischievous rascals who are party crashing these slut walks with their own version called the Pimp Walk.

The Boston SlutWalk group has had to delete several “inappropriate comments” about women and faced criticism from a group that promised to organize a counter “Pimp Walk” in Boston, Connors said.

“We think it was put there as a joke, but it’s disturbing that a number of young people still feel that way,” said Connors, referring to sexist comments left on the page.

Pages dedicated to other cities’ SlutWalks also deleted inappropriate comments.

Well done, lads. But why stop at Facebook postings? Let’s make it official.

The Chateau hereby announces May 21st, the year of our Lord 2011, National Pimp Walk Day.

Spread (heh) the word. Link this blog post to as many internet outlets as you can find, from Yahoo to Jizzabel. Let’s get these hairy, heavy balls rolling. Remind the ladies what they really need and crave… a swaggering pimp not putting up with her shit.

Let’s show these wannabe whores the end of the rainbow… with a strong pimp hand. On May 21st, dress like a pimp and strut like your giant balls are pushing your legs apart. Go to work with a cane and gaudy hat. Peacock a bit. Be the subversive pimp daddy your harem demands of you. Stick a fat middle finger in the bloated faces of feminists and human resources departments everywhere. Show the good liberal world what a real man thinks of them.

The Pimp Walk mascot:

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Royalty doesn’t wait.

(hat tip: JT)

(caption contest time! any reference to “polishing the royal sceptre” will earn double bonus points.)

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This comment from Quant reminded me of a girl I used to date:

And it doesn’t matter how bad she wants to save the planet, it would better for my image of her if she flushes after doing number 1 instead of “letting it mellow.”

Too funny. The girl I dated would say the same exact thing to me.

Me: [getting up in the morning to pee and seeing yellow water in the bowl] Gross. Yo, babe, you forgot to flush.

Her: I didn’t forget. If it’s yellow let it mellow.

Me: Why?

Her: It’s good for the environment.

Me: I didn’t know we were in a prolonged drought. Is toilet water in short supply?

Her: You shouldn’t waste water.

Me: My god the urine smells so bad it’s singeing my nose hairs.

Her: All right, give it a rest.

Me: What if I have to take a dump? Your urine water is gonna splash back up on my baby smooth ass cheeks. Is that supposed to turn me on?

Although the above conversation sounded fun and teasing, I never could see my ex the same way again after that traumatic morning I first saw her yellow pee water. Something triggered in the primitive sex part of my brain and she instantly lost 0.5 sexual market value points. The end was sealed by an unflushed toilet.

YelloMello Girl was also a 5-year vegetarian (shocker!). No meat or fish whatsoever. Her diet consisted of pasta, bread, beans, sprouts, quinoa, cereal, carrots and trail mix. For a vegetarian, I rarely saw her eat truly outstanding (and paleo-approved) vegetables like broccoli and kale. Although she had a nice figure from running and biking all the goddamned time, her un-made-up skin was sometimes blotchy. When the sun glinted off her cheeks, I could tell that her diet was going to result in premature wrinkling for her.

Dating a vegetarian girl is no fun. (This is primarily a female phenomenon. Heterosexual vegetarian men are so rare in the state of nature that few women have experience dealing with one.) A simple formula for those who need a demographic breakdown of vegetarians: Vegetarianism = single female SWPL.

One of the sublime pleasures in life is a medium rare filet mignon with a glass of pinot noir. Grazer girls rob you of enjoying this pleasure to the fullest. Sure, vegetarians will insist that they don’t judge you for your carnivorous barbarity, but you can easily observe her judging you in all the little mannerisms and passive-aggressive quirks she throws your way.

For some reason, grazers are highly offended by the smell of bacon. If you happen to cook bacon for yourself when she’s staying over, grazer girl will snark at you for “stinking up the place”. She will scrunch her face up with exaggerated disgust, and ask you to “please hurry up and eat that, it’s turning my stomach.” So much for nonjudgmentalism.

I have a theory that the reason grazers react so violently to bacon aroma is because it smells SO GOOD it might tempt them to betray the Gaianist religion for which they have sacrificed so many years in penitential devotion. Bacon is the gateway meat to apostasy.

Now that Western Christianity is a dead letter religion among the suckup SWPL set, something needs to replace the evolution-sized hole left in their heads from the excision of the traditional organized religions. That worshipful, in-group yearning is replaced by a new religion: the religion of “sustainable living.” Gaia is their God. Lettuce their Eucharist. Global warming their Nicene Creed. Canvas tote bags their cross. Marathons their forty days and forty nights in the desert. Recycling their tithe. Pet adoption agencies their soup kitchens and charity organizations. It’s a fucking joke, and it’s on them. They think they are above the religious impulse, when in fact they are as much a base animal as those plebes who earn their sneers; they’ve simply substituted a different flavor of the religious crack that gets them high.

Most vegetarian chicks aren’t going to blatantly try to convert you. They know better. And they also know, on a subconscious level, that you as a man would be less attractive if you joined her in pasture grazing. So they smirk and sneer and judge but they won’t ever really push their insipid lifestyle on you. Nevertheless, their lifestyle is an imposition on yours. Want to cook at home? If she’s cooking, you’re going to be crabby eating her twigs and leaves. If you’re cooking, prepare to brush up on vegetarian recipes. Home cooking is always a one-way street with grazers. Even the simple act of sharing platters at a restaurant becomes fraught with romance-killing difficulty. And don’t forget the hidden seething envy and affront that grazers feel as they have to watch you eat succulent meats in front of them.

And however tolerant of meat-eaters that grazers claim to be, their sanctimony can’t help but assert itself. After all, what’s the point of being a dedicated vegetarian if you can’t lord your moral rectitude over the unenlightened? It’s a human compulsion to grasp for status points by assuming a higher plane of moral reasoning. YelloMello girl, like most veggie chicks, would act unduly offended if I mistakenly ordered take-out stir fry that included chicken.

“You KNOW I don’t eat meat!”

“Just pick it out.”

“Why don’t you respect my wishes?”

The phony indignation is especially grating. It’s as if they want you to notice their hallowed commitment to their bean sprouts religion. Why suffer for an arbitrary religion if others can’t see and appreciate your suffering? After a point, it became something of a running gag to me. When she asked for a snack, I would hand her beef jerky, and say “Oops, thought it was a celery stalk.” Or I’d buy pigs’ feet and leave them in her fridge, telling her I ran out of room in my own fridge.

Ever watch the chicks at Trader Hoe’s browsing the veggie section with a basket full of plant foods? Look closely, and you can practically see the righteous self-satisfaction smeared like spackle across their faces. Behold her proudly line up her beans and hummus containers on the check-out stand, carefully arranging each product so that the entire line can bear witness to her revelation.

I despise her. Then I proudly line up my salmon, whole milk, broccoli, red peppers and almond butter and feel a glow of superiority as I watch the ghetto black mom behind me with her crate of juice boxes, chips and candy.

The id monster doesn’t play favorites.

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A reader who wishes to remain anonymous emails:

Big fan of your work.

I saw this exchange on FB, and I couldn’t resist snapping some screen shots.

“R” is an early-thirties female. Commenters J, J, and E are all males.

When I read the initial post, I couldn’t help but picture a cocky asshole, annoyed with her presumption, and deciding the penis pic was the best way to shut it down.

After “E” suggests something similar, her story changes a bit IMO. But I’ll leave the interpretation to you and your readers.

Here is the exchange:

Frist of all, props to the guys “J”, “J” and “E” for handling this whiny broad with biting humor, and to the original penis pic sender for offending her sensibilities. I like the last suggestion from “J” that she should return fire with a pic of her vagina. For some reason I cannot fathom, I doubt she’ll consider that option.

When “E” implies there must be a good reason penis pic man stood her up and “nuked” their conversation, she changes her story in an obvious way that makes her look better. It’s funny how often women badly contradict themselves in a web of lies when their sexual market value is disparaged. Recall Maxim #77:

Maxim #77: Women will screech louder the closer your words get to damaging or exposing vulnerabilities in their sexual market value.

Penis pic game justifiably gets a bad rap as a seduction technique, but it’s under-appreciated as an effective means of belittling a haughty bitch. It is the ultimate shit test, because there really is no answer to a picture of a penis on your phone. Even as a serious pickup technique, I think it could work on really twisted, slutty girls who crave the most intense asshole experience the cock carousel can provide.

To properly run penis pic game, you should be aware of the basic rules of engagement:

  • You don’t have to send a pic of your own penis. Choose from any number of porn star penises on the web. Or, if you really want to deliver a powerful message, text her a pic of a penis maimed with disease and pus-dripping open sores. Bonus points if you send a black peen to a white SWPL girl.
  • If you send a pic of your own penis with authenticity in mind, make sure you are packing heat. You’ll have to be honest with yourself. Treat penis pics like any other text game: does it pass the Jumbotron test? If your penis is flashed on a Jumbotron in front of thousands of spectators, would you beam with pride? Or hide in shame? It kind of kills the purpose of penis pic game if she shares it with her friends for a good laugh.
  • Caveat to the above point: A pic of a micropenis from a medical reference manual would be funny. It’s like saying “this is all you’re worth, honey.”
  • Send a flaccid penis. An erection will make her wonder if you get excited at the thought of texting her. A flaccid penis says all the right things to a bitch you want to put in place. Namely, “You are not woman enough to marginally bestir my loins.” Also, you aren’t a gay man texting another gay man.
  • Include the balls some way. If you have a robust, assertive sack that frames your penis like a museum piece, this won’t be hard to do. There’s just something extra demeaning about frank *and* beans.
  • Shoot from below. This is a well-known trick that photographers use to emphasize largeness and dominance. Plus, it’s been shown that women like looking up at men. Extend the honor to your junk! Lighting is important, too. When lit from below, the penis will have that malevolent look, like a flashlight under the chin.

I would run penis pic game, but a phone with a 24 inch screen hasn’t been invented yet.

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Reader writes:

This kid just put it up as his facebook picture for the world to share in disgust.  Who took this picture? His coonty girlfriend who is about a 4.5.  This kid in college was the definition of beta, a perpetual LJBF victim who seemed to relish in it. Merry Christmas man.

I understand there is a tiny minority of men who have a cuckold fetish. In the same vein, there are probably self-pity whores out there in circulation who wallow in their failure with women. We all know that one supreme beta who gleefully recounts in lurid detail his endless fuckups with women. He is a veritable self-deprecation machine. It is as if in the telling of his miserable tales he will find redemption and the holy cosmic karma will look kindly upon him soon with a bounty of plain jane pussy.

A Facebook Christmas photo is the internet equivalent of mailing a Christmas photo postcard to friends and family. Some people still do it the old-fashioned way. Christmas photo postcards are a window into the soul of the sender. You’d be surprised how cavalierly people reveal their inner torments when they’re mailing out Christmas photo postcards to friends. Singles will pose as… singles with ridiculously forced smiles and a pet dressed in royal garb. Married couples with kids will pose as… married couples with premature wrinkling who stopped having sex five years ago. And fun-loving unmarried couples without kids will not send a card at all. (But when they do, they send Dos Equis.)

There is a holiday card hierarchy, and it goes like this:

  • Not sending a Christmas card of any sort — alpha
  • Sending a parody of a Christmas photo postcard with you and your lover dressed in gaudy reindeer sweaters as you steady a ladder while she puts the star on the tree, and you are looking up her dress with a huge shit-eating grin on your face. Underneath the photo are the words “Nice beaver!” — alpha+
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you and your girlfriend/wife — beta
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone — lesser beta
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat — greater omega
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat that you have dressed in a Santa hat and beard — hard omega
  • Sending a Christmas photo postcard of you alone with your cat that you have dressed in a Santa hat and beard and the cat looks like he wants to LJBFB (Let’s Just Be Feeding Buddies) you — WAYSA?

I really hope none of my readers sent a non-jokey Christmas photo postcard to anyone this year. This blog has standards, people.

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