Time To Put Aside Childish Things

Some of you may have noticed a decrease in posts lately about game. There’s a reason for that. I haven’t been motivated to write about picking up women because I’ve found The One. I’ve fallen hard for this girl and… I might as well announce it here: We’re engaged to be married.

She’s absolutely perfect in every way. I adore her. She’s a few years older than me, which I have come to appreciate because of the maturity and depth of wisdom she brings to our relationship. Our conversations are long and always fascinating. She has so much to say about the world owing to the wealth of experience she has accumulated over the years. You will never go back to younger women once you have enjoyed the subtle pleasures of deep, meaningful conversation with an older woman, holding hands as you both discuss the finer shades of Naomi Wolf’s oeuvre. And I hate to boast, but it takes a strong man secure in his masculinity to handle an older woman who knows who she is and what she wants out of life.

On our first date, she told me she was a women’s studies major in college. I’m ashamed now to admit I cringed when I heard that, but she has broken through my carefully constructed defenses and opened my eyes to what it’s like being a woman in modern society. Try putting yourself in another person’s shoes just for a minute; it’s good for your soul. She told me about her struggles after college to make ends meet, but that she had no regrets about the low paying work she chose to do. I’m proud of the work she has done making abortion, contraceptives, and sex toys more accessible and affordable for third world women. This can only mean more sex for everyone and thus, fewer bitter men and less warfare.

Speaking of sex, it is amazing with my woman. A grown-up woman knows how to please a man in bed and, more importantly, she knows what gets herself off, so we don’t fumble around spastically or behave like selfish lovers. Her blowjob technique is expert level. I have no idea how she got so good. Some women are just born with the talent, I guess. She is also a die-hard romantic because she always loves sex with the lights off. I love going down on her and licking her supple labia.

I don’t want to sully my love for her, but since you all are probably wondering, yes she’s a solid 8 for her age. Much older men are constantly checking her out. I can tell you that when you fall in love with a woman you stop noticing the hints of crows’ feet in harsh light and start noticing other things, like her character. She loves me even more for seeing the real her and making her feel special. And she is special. No other woman could replace her.

I met her in a Scrabble club, which was a nice change of pace from the parade of skanks I was meeting everywhere else. I did run game on her when we started dating, although I didn’t have to lay it on thick because she’s not a flaky  22 year old girl playing the field. She won’t admit it, but she loved it when I negged her and teased her and read her palm. Because I saw her as LTR potential, I took her to a four star Asian/Mexican/Anti-American fusion restaurant on our second date. The tab for that night wound up costing me $120 but it was worth it as this was the only way she could be assured I was serious about her as more than a fly by night fling. I did some light qualifying and listened attentively to her stories about dating a DJ when she was in college and her time abroad in Rome experiencing the local flavor.

I broke my three date rule with her. We didn’t have sex until the 6th date, which was fine by me because I would have valued her less had she spread her legs sooner. She played me, and I thank her for that.

We dated for a few months and the love was strong. Although I have repeatedly written about the engagement ring as the status symbol of the incorrigible whore, I realized that being in love with a woman will inspire a man to forego his self-interest, make sacrifices, and betray his principles for a higher cause — to witness the happiness and flush of victory on his beloved’s face.

Yeah, I know what a lot of you are thinking. “Hypocrite! All this time he’s been telling us to avoid marriage, and he goes and gets married.” You forget that I’ve also said rules were made to be broken.

Did I shit all over the mission statement of this blog by admitting to all of the above? Some would say yes. I prefer to frame it as the actions of a man who was willing to be vulnerable and magnanimous when real love was on the line. Once a woman loves you for who you are, there’s no reason to continue seeing her as the woman you had to game into bed. My woman loves me and this is all I need to know that she will never hurt me. That’s why there will be no pre-nup.

When she found out about the blog (I couldn’t hide it from her in good conscience) she was understandably upset, but also intrigued. I reassured her that the man she sees on the blog is not the man she knows in real life. Then I bought her a Burberry scarf.

My new life begins now with the woman I love, and the tone of this blog will reflect that. I expect my readership to go through the roof as they follow me on my new adventure.

Next post: The limitless joy of children.

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Justice Is Served

Hope and change is in the air (hat tip: commenter Butters):

An adulterous Spanish woman has been ordered to pay €200,000 in “moral damages” for the suffering caused to her husband by her illicit affair.

The woman, who had three children by her lover, pretended for years that they were fathered by her husband, according to reports.

God bless the Spanish. While the Anglosphere countries are grabbing their ankles for their feminist and kleptocratic Overcunts and incomprehensibly, malignantly going down the path of forcing cuckolded beta husbands to continue footing the bills for the non-biological children of their whore wives’ adulterous copulations, the Mediterranean-style cultures — AKA the Jealousy Belt — are taking the exact opposite tack and squarely putting the blame and the punishment where it rests — on the cheating wife.

Of course, some women will cry “What about the kids?!”. Too bad. She should have thought of them before fucking around. Any harrowing consequences that befall the children are no longer the cuckolded husband’s moral crisis.

DNA tests showed that three of their four children had been fathered by the other man, the Times reports. The husband then took his wife to court, demanding compensation.

The court in Valencia, southeastern Spain, ordered her to pay €100,000 for the suffering she caused him. She fought the ruling, but the Supreme Court has upheld it, and doubled the damages to €200,000.

God bless DNA paternity testing. Besides the Pill, has any technological innovation in the last 40 years leveled the playing field as radically as paternity testing? Widespread use will have cultural — *and* genetic — changes we can only begin to fathom now. The last 10,000 years may have been a whirlwind of human evolution, but that will seem like slow going compared to the hurricane of human change I foresee arriving in the next 500 hundred years. When our distant descendants gather in their gleaming labs to pry apart the recent course of human history and evolution, they will all agree on one thing: The observers of our time severely underestimated the Tunguska-level impact that the pill, condom, abortion, and female economic empowerment would have on the very foundations of the human species.

And can you imagine an American judge having the sack to do what that Spanish judge did, and doubling the damages because the bitch showed no remorse in fighting the initial ruling? I can’t, which is too bad. It would be a step in the right direction to restoring America’s greatness. This story is so delicious it needs a Hollywoodization:

WHORE: But, your Honor, I did nothing wrong! My husband never paid attention to me. What choice did I have but to find love elsewhere? I am a good mother, I deserve respect!

JUDGE: Bitch, sit your whore ass down. You fuck around like a filthy slut, have three kids by another man, and then foist them on your bamboozled husband who works his ass off supporting you and the family, and you expect to be coddled like a small child by this court? Make it $200 grand!

WHORE: But…

JUDGE: $300 grand! Keep going, tramp…

The wife was judged to have “acted negligently in the conception of her children”, and the concealment of the truth “only added to the pain caused to the husband” who should be compensated correctly.

No shit. I guess it takes a Spaniard to demonstrate common sense.

In her defence, the woman told the court her extramarital activities had been “passionate and irregular” and blamed her husband for being cold, unfaithful and disinterested in the children.

Ha haa! I hadn’t even read this part when I wrote my short play above. Good to see there are still some people who understand the amoral nature of women.

The court ruled her claims were not credible.

Justice… is served.

I’m beginning to see a welcome trend. While I don’t expect women — solipsistic creatures of child-like, morally underdeveloped minds — to ever lead the righteous in advocating for fairness and justice of the sort meted out by the Spanish courts, I do expect them to step in line and follow the strong men who will fight for these basic rights and for real justice, not Oprahfied, Lifetime channel justice. This will happen when men grow balls and stop kow-towing in fear to the lesbian bulldyke mafia who runs the womens studies cuntdustrial complex, because women by nature are followers, and where the pack goes, so go they. Women self-govern by a simple (simplistic) motto: “It’s all in the numbers.” Once a tipping popularity point is reached, women will abandon their old principles for the new principles with a speed that will prove the shallowness and expediency with which they hold their beliefs.

What’s interesting to me, and not surprising given the clearness of my vision regarding human nature, is that this reinvigoration of basic gender justice is happening in the machismo cultures like Spain and Brazil. Perhaps those cultures’ experiences with the animalistic and passionate boiling sexual impulses of men and women, and the jealousies engendered, gives them a better grasp of the stakes at play. Perhaps in the Anglo-founded countries, where monogamy and beta cooperation have been the norm for hundreds of years (up until recently), this understanding of the volatile and untamed nature of women’s sexuality is missing, or weak, and thus there is less inborn defense against falling under the spell of the siren call of postmodern, feminist claptrap.

But that is now changing. It’s just too bad we have allowed our culture to regress to such depths that the emergence of this change was necessary.

If men would follow my sage advice, they could avoid all this bullshit and still have plenty of sex and love from women:

Don’t get married.

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Obama’s Women, Part 2

Here’s this link to a New York Beta Times story about SWPL perimenopausal women having dreams of Barack Obama — psychosexual fantasies and stalkerish glorifications of the Obama family. The NYBTimes has been churning out some truly vomitus copy as of late, but for sheer sickening nausea this story may very well spew the farthest.

One woman wrote that when she couldn’t get to sleep at night, she “lay in bed and thought about the Obama girls in their rooms at the White House. I thought about Marian Robinson up on the third floor. And about Barack and Michelle, a couple who clearly have a ‘thing’ for each other, spooning together in bed. It helped me relax.”

When, generations from now, our Islamic and Mexican overlords have gathered to discuss the exact moment the American empire fell to pieces and reverted to a pre-civilizational Mad Max tribal wasteland, someone will point to this quote in the ancient tablets of the New York Times, and heads will nod in agreement.

I’ve already written about Obama’s women, and the sexual mores of girls who voted for him, so there aren’t many new lessons to glean from this article that haven’t been discussed before. This story has made the rounds, and been roundly ridiculed by many other bloggers. If there were any remaining doubts that giving women the right to vote has been an unmitigated disaster for America, this article should dispel them. Most women, especially single SWPLers and undersexed hausfraus bitter about being married to quisling betas, are simply unserious creatures who will let their emotions guide them to vote away the political and social arrangements that created the modern yenta-fied culture that affords them the luxury of voting like vapid teenage girls. If history is any guide, and if fortune should shine upon the United States before the point of no return is reached, a cooperative, horizontally structured patriarchy will reemerge and supplant the suicidally insane matricentric sick culture and stateless citizen of the world globopuppeteer elites playing “let’s you and him fight” currently running the show. I think it will happen soon, perhaps within five years. It may be violent as the authoritarian sanctimonious Boomer pricks and Gen X lackeys are overthrown.

The other day a friend of mine confided that in the weeks leading up to the election, the Obamas’ apparent joy as a couple had made her just miserable. Their marriage looked so much happier than hers. Their life seemed so perfect. “I was at a place where I was tempted daily to throttle my husband,” she said. “This coincided with Michelle saying the most beautiful things about Barack. Each time I heard her speak about him I got tears in my eyes — because I felt so far away from that kind of bliss in my own life and perhaps even more, because I was so moved by her expressions of devotion to him.”

BOTY candidate right here. Imagine being this bitch’s husband and reading this quote from your wife in the paper. I bet she showed him the article, proudly pointing out where she was quoted publicly humiliating him. “Here, honey, check this out. I’m in the New York Times!” The poor, wretched beta would probably work double time to win his wife’s approval, when he should be doing just the opposite — kicking her cottage cheese ass to the curb.

Relatedly, I was talking to a typical urban slut machine and she asked who I voted for. I said I didn’t vote. She reeled back, shocked. “You didn’t VOTE?!?” “Nope,” I repeated. “Voting is a useless exercise.” She leaned over to her girlfriend and spoke in her ear. They made OMG faces. Both of them looked at me suspiciously, frowning. Their reaction was as if I had told them that I killed a pregnant woman and dumped the body in the Potomac. The Obama Age scales of moral opprobium are completely out of whack. She returned. “What are you registered as?” “Independent.” “Independent? Hmm.” Girls know that when a man says Independent he means “Non-Democrat”.

I got the bang and marked her number in my phone as a “Tier 2” number.

***

In other news, I nearly interrupted a mugging in progress. I was literally five feet away walking down an alley that serves as a makeshift parking lot when an early 20s black dude, thugged out to the max, stuck a gun in the gut of a 50ish well-dressed white man (soft target) walking in my direction, and barked at him “You know what to do”. The middle-aged guy yelped when he apprehended what was happening. I broke out into a half-run and turned a corner off the alley about a hundred feet from the scene. Since this was a city hood on a weekend night, I expected to see a cop car nearby I could flag down. No such luck. No cops anywhere to be found. Did they take the night off? Way to be available, guys. What are we paying you for, again?

After a few minutes, I gave up trying to locate a cop and dialed 911. As I’m standing on the street in the middle of the nightlife crowd giving the description to the lady on the phone, the mugger casually strolls right by me on the sidewalk. He’s walking with a buddy. He’s got bills in his hand that he’s flipping through, and his buddy is cackling with glee. I relayed this information.

I never saw cops arrive. No doubt the guy got away scot free. The US is heading for a meltdown if criminals feel they can act with such impunity and fearlessness that they can blithely walk away from the scene unconcerned about being caught. I wondered who the victim voted for.

As a friend of mine said, “After a certain amount of time living in the city, you either settle down or move to a new city.” He’s right. It’s starting to feel like Groundhog Day. A move is on the horizon.

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