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Archive for the ‘White Male Pussy Of The Month’ Category

“I told my husband I wanted a picture alone with Jason Momoa, but he wasn’t comfortable with that.”

LMAO that Momoa scribbled his initials right over the volcuck’s face. LMAO^2 that Momoa’s left hand is practically cupping her tit. It’s all in good fun, you see, but good fun often reveals deeper truths.

The volcuck — voluntary cuckold — is the lowest social and sexual status a man can achieve. Even incels have more dignity. Regular cuckolds — men who aren’t aware their women have been unfaithful and gotten pregnant by another man’s seed — are less contemptible. The volcuck debases himself so completely he may as well lop it off and become a house eunuch to fat cat oligarchs.

The volcuck is a symptom of an acutely diseased sexual market. When you see his kind growing in number and cavalierly disgracing himself for social media yucks, you will know there is a great disturbance in the whores. The Snark Side is winning. The world has become farce. Women hold all the cards and fat pink-haired skanks can casually humiliate their neckbearded soyfriends and experience no consequences for it.

But there is salvation, and it can be found in the Good Book of Heartiste. Game will redeem Western Man.

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Rod Dreher, a former CH Beta of the Month contestant (he almost won, but almost only counts in horseshoes and corner stools) interviewed Wrath of Gnon, a Maul-Right advocate for traditionalism. A reader informed Rod that Wrath of Gnon was an unperson, a thought criminal, and Rod promptly bent over to give penance to his true Lord and God: his anti-White shitlib paymasters.

Where in dreher’s benedictine christianity does it compel him to run from the Truth like a frightened little girl?

Congratulations, ROD, you’re the first BOTM runner-up to win an honorary BOTM trophy (buttplug shaped) for exemplary commitment to spinelessness in the line of duty. A dry insertion might be your calling.

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There’s that nümale gloryhole face again, agape and waiting eagerly for the buckcock to jam the back of his throat. It’s the contorted grimace of fear and submission, and why not? The sweet chai breakfast boi with his soylent grin is the emasculated, aromatase product of a globohomo world order which prefers its consumerist cogs in a state of asexual surrender.

This buttplug generation can’t pass from the scene soon enough.

Related: The national emasculation is evident wherever you look. The latest trend is the “soyboy sit“, or the “soy sit”. Also called “cuck leg”.

The demasculinization of young men is a phenomenon that is pressured by a variety of outlets, namely feminist movements and college campuses. Since the ’80s, which famously marked the decline of the alpha male, the public idealization of masculinity has declined as far as traditionalism is concerned. Consider the icons of past decades (e.g. Clint EastwoodRobert ConradBurt Reynolds) with media stars today (Robert PattinsonHarry StylesJustin Bieber). There is something about a “feminine” man that succeeds in the current social paradigm.

“Succeeds”, only if loosely defined to mean “gets airtime on house organs and has to molest manjawed coworkers to get any action”.

Feminine men can only succeed in small numbers, by exploiting tiny sexual market niches as sneaky fuckers stealing women who’ve been emotionally abandoned by their chad lovers. But a society full of these feminine men, as we have now, is destined to fail, and fail spectacularly. The sexual polarity will return with a force. The natural order will resume. The God of Biomechanics doesn’t slumber for long.

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The “White supremacist terrorism” Charlottesville Narrative is slowly being unraveled by dissident investigators. The latest turn is the uncovering of evidence that Dwayne Dixon, a professor of anthropology (self-discrediting) and antifa leader proudly admitted on the socials that he, while armed with a rifle, chased down James Fields, the Dodge Challenger driver who accelerated into a crowd which resulted in Heather Heyer dying of a heart attack.

Dixon was confronted on camera about his actions chasing down James Fields’ car while brandishing a rifle, causing Fields to panic and accelerate his car into a crowd. Dixon’s reaction was…telling.

That sound and fury you see in the video are the soy drippings of a fruitcup who knows he’s done fucked up and hurt The Anti-White Cause.

The you-know-whos are gonna lose their weinsteinian grip on their carefully constructed C’ville Narrative, and they are shrieking like never before in pain and anguish that they have failed to bottle up the truth and silence the truth-seekers.

It’s past time for Trump or Sessions to classify pantifa as a domestic terrorist organization.

***

From commenter zek,

Prof: Fuck the police!
Interviewer: Did you kill Heather Heyer?
Prof: Police!!

Heh.

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Very sneaky of this tub of soy to use the category “middle eastern refugees” rather than the more precise and relevant “moslem”, which includes all moslems residing in America rather than just those officially designated as refugees recently escaping a war zone. The latter category — “moslem” — has a terrorist attack rate in America 5,000% higher than the rate for non-moslems.

And the vapid conflation of terrorist attacks with falling down stairs is par for the shitlib course. Stairs don’t surprise us with pipe bombs in the subway. We all know where the stairs are and the risks inherent in climbing or descending them. But the goal of moslem terrorists goes beyond their kill count; their objective is to spread fear and panic that death could come at any time and in any place. And, unlike stairs, moslems kill in the name of a religion, and have deep and wide networks of fellow moslems helping them in their deranged cause. They have an agenda, which stairs do not.

Finally, one has to scoff at the asterisked fine print on this bugman’s posterboard. He went out of his way to assure viewers he has “citations” for his claims.

But who will fact check the fact checkers?

(anyone with descended testicles)

Anyhow, that PURE CUCKFACE is a lesson in physiognomy. A quick glance at his problem glasses and his smug doughy androgynous puffboy mug is all you need to know he’d be the type to WELL ACHSHUALLY about moslem terrorism and welcome an invasion of hued hordes….into somebody else’s neighborhood. It’s also the look of a pasty blob who just hit the button on his rectally-inserted orgasm egg.

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We may have reached the apotheosis of cat ladydom. A couple photographed themselves as the “mom” gave “birth” to a kitten.

This would be mildly amusing if these two were actually poking fun of the cat lady culture, instead of implicitly poking fun of “breeders” as this type is wont to call people who have human children. But no, they’re not kidding around about their embrace of the cat lady/cat lad lifestyle. Proof:

But one couple who recently [adopted a kitten] decided to let the world know about their furry new family member in the most unforgettable way. […]

Photographer Lucy Schultz and her partner, Steven, don’t have any kids of their own…

WOMB, there it isn’t. Looking at her, it’s not as if she’s got years left to contemplate having a real child. The clock on her egg factory is set to expire. Maybe they can psyche themselves up for the coming regimen of IVF treatments (using a buck’s sperm) by fondly looking back at these photos for encouragement.

And he looks like he’s about one tofu niblet away from his testicles burrowing back under his fupa.

“I’d been talking about doing a kitten announcement shoot when I was finally ready to adopt for over a year,” Schultz told The Dodo. “I just wanted to celebrate my cat adoption milestone as it’s something I’ve looked forward to for such a long time.”

It took her a year to decide to adopt a fucking cat? How many years will it take her to decide on the real thing? No wonder these shitlib Whites are going extinct at a rapid clip.

Schultz enlisted the help of her colleague, photographer Elizabeth Woods-Darby. The two have worked together documenting human births…

A woman’s maternal instinct has to be pathologically underdeveloped if she photographs human births as a career and still doesn’t feel the urge herself.

The photo shoot is certainly comical, but there’s nothing insincere about how much love they have for their new pet.

Two minutes after they die (from toxoplasma gondii complications), this cat would be gutting them and slurping up the pools of blood.

Hilarity aside, Schultz hopes it might inspire others to grow their own families with a pet in need of love:

“My message to everyone who is digging these photos is to check out your local shelter, consider volunteering or become a foster home and consider adopting one of the amazing homeless pets out there!”

This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whisker.

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Moby is “excited” about raw dogging Miss Manjaw and leaving behind a few disfigured blanks to wither and die out of sight of her womb. I’m not sure how anxiety or challenge figures into the future that follows this decision for alpha excision, but it must have something to do with the proper rhetoric to virtue snivel for their equally androgynous shitlib friends and broken-hearted family members.

Mock these people, but don’t sweat them. It’ll all shake out in the Darwinian stew in a generation or two. More anti-natalist shitlib Whites choosing to go childless (or the 1.2 child route) means a lot less of their full spectrum snark pervading society. Maybe that’s what’s giving these two anxiety about the future. They’re the last of their non-breed.

PS Dollars to donuts The Chinster dumps Moby for a blackity black to birth a squad of gargroidles. And then poor Moby will be left with his de-privileged, powerless pud and his estrogen-boosting double IPAs to burnish his emasculate bona fides. Luckily for him the procedure is reversible, although complications are possible, such as suffering the tut tuts of his barren lib friends for daring to reconstruct a faint shadow of his masculinity.

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