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Archive for the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos’ Category

Lena Dunham — or as Vox Day calls her, the Dunham Horror — is back in the news, attention whoring on social media in her new lingerie fat folds hammock. (WARNING: You are about to see what cannot be unseen. The faint of heart should look away now.)

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Until Lena, never in the history of womankind has an attention whore been less aware of the nature of the attention she receives, or of the mismatch between what she offers and the kind of attention she demands for her offerings.

Which manboob does Lena’s nottie bod most resemble?

I’ll have to go with “sidewinders”.

Lena’s personal philosophy and her behaviors which manifest from her beliefs are a cancer on the world. A grotesquerie like her should spend less time flaunting her repulsive ugliness on the internet and more time in the gym and away from the grease trucks kicking her body into a reasonably feminine shape that she can then proudly save for the pleasure of her gay husband in the privacy of their home. Growing out her hair so she looks less like David Fatrelle would help, too.

But, she will never do this. Find a husband, that is.

But even with their visible admiration for one another, this pair has no plans to say “I Do” anytime soon. It’s not that they aren’t ready. They just wish everyone [ed: gays] would be given the same opportunity in all 50 states.

This post is cruel. I’m in a giving mood, so I’ll leave youze guys with some oculation material.

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Dat post title… I’m such a steenker!

White women are kinda, sorta… most definitely raciss n sheeeeiiit. But what about those righteous, morally superior goodwhite women who throw off the burden of white privilege and happily date black men?

Unfortunately for branding purposes, these moral paragons aren’t exactly the classiest or thinnest ladies. From an earlier draft of a paper referencing the same Yahoo Personals internet profile data, researchers discovered (likely much to their chagrin):

Body type, political views, and religion are also related to the exclusion of blacks or Asians. Among white women, one of the most striking findings is that white women who describe themselves as slim, slender, athletic, fit or average are nearly seven times as likely to exclude black men as dates as women who describe themselves as thick, voluptuous, a few extra pounds, or large. [ed: :lol: ] For white men, body type has no effect on their likelihood of excluding blacks or Asians. While political views also have no effect on racial exclusion by white men, white women who describe themselves as liberal or very liberal are less likely to exclude black men as dates than women who are not political, middle of the road, or conservative. Surprisingly, liberal white women appear more likely to exclude Asian men as dates, although this finding only borders on significance. Finally, religion affects black exclusion, and Asian exclusion among white women. Specifically, we see that whites who identified as Jewish were dropped from the analysis of black exclusion because it was a perfect predictor; that is, all white men and women who identified as Jewish excluded blacks as possible dates; all white women who identified as Jewish also excluded Asian men as possible dates. Further, white men who do not state a religion or who state their religion as “other” are far more inclusive of black women as dates than those who describe themselves as not religious. Likewise, white women of “other” religions are more likely to include Asian males as dates.

What a cluster bomb of hatefacts!

Now the only question remaining is whether fat white chicks settle for black men because those are the only men who’ll have them, or that black men try but fail to get sexy white chicks and decide to shoot for the easy prey because even a fat white girl is more feminine than the typical black girl? Same difference, I suppose. My limited knowledge of the mating rituals of matricentric cultures is that it’s a bit of both; fat chicks are stuck choosing between a steel-reinforced dildo and a black man, and black men hone in on fat white chicks because they love can tolerate grotesque booties and they learned from experience that sexy white chicks want nothing to do with them.

These findings are perfectly in line with the CH observation — heck it’s in line with just about everyone’s observations except that no one wants to bring it up at the company picnic — that the white women who date black men are often fat, gross, and classless.

Probably unsurprising to most, the kind of white women willing to dance by the dusky coonlight? Fat liberal white women with sanctimony issues.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that fat liberal white women are just about the most unappealing dating prospects for any white man with options and a working set of nads. So… good riddance.

And wazzup wit da Eskimos? Man they talk a big game about breaking down race barriers, but when the rubber hits the ho, it’s “Blacks?! Are you meshuggina??”.

Let’s end this journey through the human hindbrain on a hopeful note. Dear NOWAGs, if you want a white woman (and who doesn’t?), date a Wiccan. I’m sure you have the psychological tools to stoically endure her kookiness.

It hardly needs clarifying to regular visitors of Le Chateau, but CH has no problem with racial dating preferences. Racism is natural, evolved, and a part of what makes us human. Racism expands the diversity in the world by creating and sustaining group aesthetics that would otherwise get swamped into oblivion by a one-world fuckfest.

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Lardass of the Blogosphere is butthurt by all the anti-fat realtalk in the free speech zone, and this resentment fuels the obstinacy with which he holds to wrong-headed opinions about obesity. His latest is a howler:

In the comments, there is often talk about the fattening of America, yet I hardly see any fat white people in Manhattan. Thus I came up with the theory, this morning, that thin people are moving to Manhattan and other thin cities such as Washington, Boston, and San Francisco/Silicon Valley, leaving the fat people behind in the rest of the country. Those readers who live in the rest of the country are, therefore, getting the false impression that the population as a whole, is fatter than it really is.

Or that, you know, the skinny people living in the pricey coastal cities are getting the false impression that the population as a whole is skinnier than it really is.

LotB is called out on his ignorance of CDC obesity data by one of his commenters, which he reacts to by attempting a semantic evasion.

Those [CDC obesity] statistics are not broken down by race. New York has plenty of overweight blacks and Hispanics.

Here is the CDC obesity data for white women (the data most pertinent to the functioning of a healthy sexual market):

Between 1988–1994 and 2007–2008, the prevalence of obesity among women increased (Figure 4):
•    From 22.9% to 33.0% among non-Hispanic white women.

Yes, there are disproportionately more fat black and amerindian women, but white women are getting FATTER too. LotB is simply mistaken in his pro-fatass beliefs. For shits and giggles, here’s the obesity rate in the United States in 1960 versus the obesity rate in 2008:

Obese (BMI ≥ 30)
1960-1962: 13.4%
2007-2008: 34.3%

Extreme Obesity (BMI ≥ 40):
1960-1962: 0.9%
2007-2008: 6.0%

Environmental shocks.

Obesity and extreme obesity are the two most revolting categories of fatness. Mere overweight has gone up a couple percentage points since 1960. None of the trends are good, however a few extra pounds on a man won’t adversely affect his romantic prospects like similar extra weight on a woman would affect hers.

These numbers are even worse than they appear, because the obesity categories are based on renormed standards. The 1959 Met Life insurance tables are truer standards of ideal weight, because they were devised before American “girth inflation” became necessary to spare the feelings of chubsters like, I would bet good money, those of LotB’s.

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While reading an article at ROK about taking the Grease Pill and letting your hair go native sans shampooing, a tangent by the author, Samseau, grabbed my attention.

Then I went to the men’s room and took a leak. When the girls I came with asked me where I had been, I told them “there was a line” and she asked me if I had any weed, which I did, but the fat friend did a reverse cockblock* out on the street and prevented her from going anywhere else with me. […]

* Reverse Cockblock: “Oh, you know what? Just go home with him. You should go. Have a good time. Just go. I don’t care.” <—- Most effective cockblock line in the world. Even if she goes home with you, she’ll still feel like a slut as soon as you make a move on her and the LMR [ed: last minute resistance] will be insurmountable.

The Reverse Cockblock, or what is more precisely termed the Reverse Psychology Cockblock, is something most men will rarely encounter. I’ve never heard that sort of line from a cockblock, and I’ve had to deal with more than my fair share of spiteful CBs maneuvering to deep-six my romantic fortunes.

The typical cockblock will work her black magic in one of three ways:

1. She’ll pout along the perimeter and look really pathetic, until the hot friend you’re chatting up can’t help but notice her fat friend’s distress. Game over.

2. She’ll bulldoze her way into your conversation, gripping her friend by the arm, and dragging her out the door while shouting about this or that bar they have to go to, and yelling “BYEEEEE” at you through a shit-eating grin as she exits with her quarry helplessly entangled. Game over.

3. She’ll make a complete bitch of herself, executing increasingly labyrinthine and complex shit tests designed to publicly humiliate you until her hot friend becomes disenchanted with your feebleness while under attack. GAME OVER, MAAAN.

There are a vast array of cockblock strategies, but the three above will account for 80% of your CB victimizations. Exceptions abound, but you’ll be well-covered if you know how to handle those three.

But… WOW JUST WOW… the passive-aggressive Reverse Cockblock is quite devious. I’d have to tip my atheist goon fedora to a chubster who successfully pulled off a reverse psychology cockblock on me. Truly evil. What the RCB is doing is essentially activating her hot friend’s ASD (anti-slut defenses) in your stead. She’s co-opted betaboy anti-game and turned it into a girl game victory.

So here are my anti-RCB solutions, should this pure evil alight upon your Valalpha.

– Agree & Amplify

“Oh, you know what? Just go home with him. You should go. Have a good time. Just go. I don’t care.”

“We will, thanks! It’s so nice of you to want the best for your friend. I hope she doesn’t break my heart.”

– Re-Reverse Psychology

“Oh, you know what? Just go home with him. You should go. Have a good time. Just go. I don’t care.”

[to cockblock]: “Don’t worry, I was just about to hand her over to you. You look like more fun anyhow.”

– Jerkboy Ridicule

“Oh, you know what? Just go home with him. You should go. Have a good time. Just go. I don’t care.”

[to CB]: “Don’t feel left out. You can join too.”

– Flay Her Alive

“Oh, you know what? Just go home with him. You should go. Have a good time. Just go. I don’t care.”

[to target, whispering]: “I think your friend needs you right now more than I do.”

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I hope this game advice helps more men bed the women they really want to bed, and to have the freedom to choose which among those quality women will be honored with a long-term commitment and eventual progeny.

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We have a guest post today from dissident humorist/satirist/troll “Duck” (you can follow his Twitter feed @jokeocracy, under the nom de plumage “Duck Enlightenment”). He explores the subversive themes and cultural schisms underlying a gaming communitaaaahh kerfuffle in which many triggers were triggered and micros were aggressed. Begin transmission…

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A New Rallying Cry For Men: “Who Bitch This Is?”

During a recent video gaming tournament, one of the competitors, a man known as Shinblade, celebrated a tough win. A particularly dumpy female in attendance took offense to his victory dance, and attempted to physically push him back down into his chair. He resisted, then realized he was being assaulted by a woman and addressed the crowd with four mighty words that shall echo through history: “WHO BITCH THIS IS?”

This man Shinblade is a true American hero.

“Who bitch this is?” is an exhilarating assertion of patriarchal privilege packed into a pithy four word thunderbolt. It manages in just those mere four words to pack so many deep layers of privilege and masculinity it seems almost impossible.

Firstly, “Who bitch this is?” correctly and directly labels the offending female, who has initiated a physical altercation, as a “bitch”. Immediately from just the second word it’s clear the speaker is pulling no punches and refuses to bow to any PC concerns.

Digging a bit deeper, “Who bitch this is?” also explicitly declares that the venue where the words are spoken is a male-centric environment. Any “bitch” present in this place must therefore be the property of another man in attendance, and it is therefore that man’s responsibility to keep her in line.

Even further, “Who bitch this is?” recognizes that there are essential differences between the sexes and that the sexes maintain varying degrees of self-control over their behavior. The speaker does not address his concerns to the “bitch” in question, but ignores her to instead query the wider audience to find the designated male responsible for her behavior. She is therefore explicitly declared not responsible for her own behavior, as it is known in male environments that women are unable to control themselves and hence they are expected to be the responsibility of an attending male.

I believe that “Who bitch this is?” should become a rallying cry for a male generation in the West that has allowed itself to be pushed around by feminist nonsense for far, far too long. Reasonable debate has failed and the feminist establishment refuses to listen to rational concerns about where they are leading our civilization. Direct words need to be spoken, and this man Shinblade has gifted us with these four powerful direct words to show us the way forward.

So the next time some silly cow gets in your face, or puts her hands on you, or accuses you of being sexist: just stay calm and don’t allow yourself to become upset. Maintain your frame, look around, and then in a clear loud voice ask the room one simple and devastating question: “Who Bitch This Is?”

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I feel dirty. Still, I laughed. At everyone involved. Because that was one sad spectacle. #GoodbyeAmerica

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Unkempt, slovenly, fat women aren’t just boner killers. They also kill group morale. From a story about four Secret Service executives demoted in the wake of repeated failures involving White House intrusions.

Look, Secret Service always had a mystique about them. Looking good and being fit. Physical appearances mean something. Female director, whatever. She wasn’t attractive, she was overweight and [governmental and public affairs chief] Jane [Murphy] was worse. Jane was sloppily dressed, never a good physical appearance. Jane was a terrible dresser, Janet Napolitano was commissioner and it is what it is, people look the way they look. To me, Brian Stafford was director. Eljay Bowron. These guys were statuesque, decent looking, fit guys who prided themselves on appearance. I think Julia did what she could with what she had but if you look at who she brings to the Hill and meetings, they really didn’t represent the Service well.

Beauty is truth, in more ways than are at first obvious to the naked eye. A nation that has swallowed the swill of LGBTWSUQCOCKSUCK crassness and diversity bullshit will glorify cranks and degenerates under a banner of faaaairrrrness, as competence and group cohesion suffer because winners don’t want to be associated with losers.

The Secret Service had pride of purpose, then the freak parade gained power and stuffed their ranks with grotesque bulldykes and flaming fairies and trash world mystery meats, and… surprise surprise!… the white alpha male core of the Secret Service lost their esprit de corp. As morale eroded, random drunks began waltzing through the front door of the Selma House.

This is the real world. The losers had better know their place soon, before the whole structure collapses under the weight of their plus-sized grievance whoring. Because when the shit really hits the fan, the winners may decide it’s not worth saving the spotted asses of the misfits who spent their whole lives chainsawing the institutions the winners built and successfully manned.

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Commenter natphilosopher poses an interesting thought experiment,

What I want to know is, what’s the CH translation factor [for female age versus female fatness]?
I figure, maybe 2-2.5 pounds/year?
A 20 year old who’s 50 pounds overweight against the same woman 20-25 years later, but now she’s lost the extra weight and toned up?

No, better yet, CH, they are both at the end of the bar. It’s the middle of nowhere, so there’s no other action and your stationed here for a while. The newly divorced mother, toned and horny, and the overweight but otherwise hot daughter and two of her overweight friends. The mother is so hot for her age, which is 39, that under the circumstances she appeals to the mighty CH. How many pounds per year does the daughter have to be overweight for the Mom to win CH’s attention?

The variables:

39-year-old mom, slender and toned.

VERSUS

20-year-old daughter, 50 pounds overweight.

Which woman commands not just CH’s turgid attention, but most men’s attention (since the vast majority of men share the same preferences in women)?

In other words, how much fat has to accumulate on a prime nubility young woman before a height-weight proportionate woman twice her age begins to look like a more sexually alluring prospect?

Reminder: Presented with two equally slender women 20 years apart, most men will, given a free choice, choose the younger woman for sex AND love. (yes, both)

The formula is simple: Youth >>>> Cougardom, at a healthy body weight, every time. It gets complicated when we fiddle with the variables and compare a young fatty to an older, age-adjusted hottie.

Thinking hard about this (because neither cougars nor fatties are sexual fantasy material), I conclude that the thin mom would earn the CH rod of approval. Youthful bloom, rare and exquisite as it is, can’t withstand 50 pounds of disfiguring blubber. Wrinkles and sag are no man’s idea of boner-fuel, but the equivalent of Lindy West is like the anti-Viagra: Boners implode into a black hole of flaccidness, from which no seed can escape.

I’d therefore have to agree with natphilosopher’s mathematical elegance: A 20-year-old daughter would have to be 2.5 lbs per year fatter than her 39-year-old mom. But only if her mom is already thin. If the daughter is 50 pounds fatter than her obese mom, that’s a dirigible sideshow no one wants to contemplate puncturing.

50 pounds of superfluous fat is a lot of unsexxxy BBBBBBBBW adipose. What if the daughter is, say, 40 pounds heavier than her twice-as-old slender mom? 30 pounds? 20?

At 40 pounds difference, most men would still opt to bang the thin mom with the extra 20 years.

At 30 pounds difference, the pattern of fat accumulation on the daughter will start to matter. Did her additional 30 pounds settle on her ass and tits, and avoid her face, neck, belly and arms? Then I conclude that even numbers of men would choose the daughter and the mother.

At 20 pounds difference, the same as above applies, but now the daughter’s sheer youthfulness exerts a powerful influence on men’s autonomic desires. Most men will overlook an extra 20 pounds on a 20-year-old if the only alternative is sex with a thin 39-year-old (again, presuming equal facial attractiveness, i.e. bone structure).

At 10 pounds difference, the daughter wins nearly every time.

I hope this answer has cleared up everyone’s questions on the matter of female fatness and female age and their deleterious, and synergistically deflating, effects on men’s libidos.

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