Saturday, April 28, 2012

Fuck progressive humanist laws

Just read this news item about two men tying a woman to a chair, demanding her bank codes, threatening her with poking her eyes out, join getting the code and finding an empty account, they brat the woman, throw her against the wall, choking her also.

She gets hold of a kitchen knife, and during get escape, stabs one of the assholes in the chest and punches one in the head.

Prosecutor us asking six months for the guys.

Prosecutor is asking for fourteen months for the woman.


Every new day, new proof that the system has decided to become the enemy of the producing, law abiding citizen.

Vigilante justice us more just than what passes as the justice system.

No wonder progressive Europe is experiencing a rape and small crime epidemic.

You are not safe.


Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Immigration is sexually discriminatory

I was sitting contemplating that these weeks have been good and I got nothing to write about, except that some minorities that raped a girl were let free (probation), and few other little events not worth mentioning... Oh well, at least one I will after I write this one.

We always hear that "We need immigration", when you ask for what, the answer is "to do jobs"... we got 10% unemployment, which makes for a bout 200.00 people without jobs... "to pay welfare"... when some immigrant groups manage to be on welfare at a ratio of over 40% generation after generation.

What the progressive time of immigration does is to apparently bring men over.

Why I ask?

Because I am sitting by the window, there are 4 enrichers inside, 4 others came and left, now I got 5 enrichers bellowing outside, few others are walking by. All designer enrichers.

As usual:

How many vibrant females I see?

Do you seriously need an answer?

Either immigration is sexually discriminatory in accepting only males,
Or immigration is only accepting invisible females, used for breeding and being barefoot.

Both ways,

Females are not to be seen.

A wingman that does his job


They can be boost you, they can shoot you.

Disclaimer: I have caused many problems as a wingman, so I quit being one. Now some friends are offended about me running solo, but I paid my dues by introducing friends to girls that they later got intimate with. I am done. For most of them, that is.

Ex-wingmen: have argued with me cause I did not introduce them to girls I was talking to, out of their league; nuked threesomes, I could not salvage the damage; talked shit about the girls I was flirting with; entered in piss racing with me; talked too much; tried to openly hit on my target; deliberately asked questions that teargassed the environment; told the girl I am an asshole to protect her, not to help me.

It is clear over the years I left many wingmen on the ground, to explore the skies on my own.

Enters LuckyLuke.

Good friend, possibly good wingman, even if I suck at it.
Talking about this 21 year old blondie with the body you want to ravage for a week non-stop.

"She is mental" says Billy the Kid
"So?" say I
"She's got the looks" says LuckyLuke;

We are leaving the place, dissipating in three directions, when I decide to put in the last word

"Mental or not; I'd tap that if I got the chance"

LuckyLuke, now three meters away, half turns his head and bluntly says

"Then make the chance"

At that instant I was wingslapped back to reality.

I was risen from my grave, I was made to feel the horror of the wrong mentality I was carrying with me.

I woke up.

That, is one thing a good wingman does.

Now I got four.

All good friends; all good wings.

I still run solo though. Let's see if I learn to fly in formation.

Red Baron - out.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Make someone's day

I woke up at 4 am. Took the taxi. Boarded the train. Waited through the security check. Waited in the airport. Flew two and a half hours in non-reclining seats; when we approached the destination I saw with disappointment that half the snow was still on the ground.

Then the speaker crackled...

Serious voice : "Cabin crew, prepare for landing. Ten minutes.", five seconds of silence, then, same pilot, with a not so serious voice: "We're laaaanding, ... yippie"

I forgot all my tiredness, all that I was reading, all the stress that I knew was expecting me.

First I smiled.
Then I laughed.
Then I heard the whole plane laughing.

I was still smiling to myself in the passport queue.

And this is what it takes to male someone's suffering of a day into a happy one. A happy, cheerful "Yippie"

When you go to the shop today, instead of answering the usual soulless "How are you today, Sir", paying and leaving; give a smile to the cashier, and say "Thanks, have nice day!".  Do it knowing that that person is likely having a long shitty day, and you might be the only person breaking the routine. Just make their day. It only takes a smile.

Your coworkers, your friends, anybody you cross paths with, give them a smile, make them smile. It is simple. Think about the pilot who also woke up at 4 am, but can put out a cheerful "Yippie".

Sadly, a smile is likely to backfire on a cutie pie that you are carnally interested in.

To make her day, be the prize, don't try to make her day, make your own day by getting to carnally know her, get her to orgasm on the clouds. You'll have made her day that way.

You smiling may lessen your chances of this; of making her day. You have no right to deprave her from the clouds.

To all others, know that during a normal day, which is likely a long, shitty day, one glimpse of sunshine coming through, be it by a genuine smile, a small joke, a cheerful sentence, or just plain acknowledgment of the person will make that day a better day.

Do it.
Do it often.

(Necessary warning: Take utmost care with female coworkers... "do it" may cost you your job)

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Gotta love the hamster

It was some weeks ago, I received a message,

" bla bla bla, la la la, ra, ra, ra (confidential text), Do you want to come to my place, for a booty call?" asks cutie pie.

It was 1am, and I was busy with a sweet pie that made my jaw drop when I had first seen her. So, "Some other time"

Time passed, I prepared my woman-magnet dessert, that I usually finish before any woman can get her hands on, so immediately after preparing it, I texted

"Drop by, taste my bla bla dessert"
"I'd love to. 9 ok?"

9 comes, I am busy at home, no sign of cutie pie.
10 comes, I am entertaining myself, no sign of cutie pie.
11, I get a message, " Sorry got stuck at work"
"If you still drop by, it'll be for a sleep" as I was getting ready to go to bed after an evening well spent.

"If a girl goes to a man's house at this time, it is a booty call and I am not that kind of girl"


I fell off the couch laughing.

No anger, nothing, just laughter.

I mean,

You got to love the hamsters. Alright, they turn a man's life into Hell, but sometimes they give you this.

A little girl's hamster sprinting through the Olympics. A sight to behold. Run run run. In a wheel, that is.

Few days later, 2am: 

"You out?" asks cutie pie.

Where have all the good men gone?

She will ask in less than five years...

She will hear crickets chirping.

She came in with her friend, walked towards the two Americans sitting on the table beside mine, in a bar where the atmosphere is cozy, the sound level low, number of drunks little, and the time yet early.

With her full voice, she bellows in a satisfied excitement:

"Hellou, assholes...!... You again? :)  "

Since everybody in the coffee bar was in hearing distance, and since the venue was packed, it is clear that a number of men took note on what worked on this party girl.

Being a good man to her would be sheer stupidity,

And her asking where the good men are, would be like looking for men who happily, knowingly shoot themselves in the foot...

You love assholes, you ride assholes, there may not be a decent mechanic around when Little Red Corvette is falling apart after a million miles. Miles that were loved fast, and left fast.

....says an occasional asshole.