Wednesday, March 23, 2022

You All Suck (#51 -- Misanthropy for Dummies Edition...)

 "I don't suffer fools, and I like to see fools suffer..." - Florence King

Oh, how I miss Florence! She was one of the bright spots of the old National Review, back in the days when it was worth reading. When NR ditched Florence, the occasional splash of P.J. O'Rourke and Mark Steyn for the frat boy Conservative, Inc., wanna-be corporate types like Lowry and Goldberg, it was all downhill from there.

And in retrospect, I'm now thinking that even the sainted William F. Buckley left much to be desired.

But that is for another day.

I wish to speak on a pertinent, and timely, topic. That topic is Vagina.

I used that word, rather condescendingly, I'll admit, in yesterday's spiel. But then again, the woman it was used to describe -- in fact, the composite of ALL the women it was used to malign -- fit this motif to the proverbial tee.

Naturally, when you write this sort of thing you get feedback. Guaranteed feedback. And the sort of response it elicits is both predictable and usually unhinged. So I wasn't surprised to find at least three death threats in my e-mail this afternoon and a better-than-average best wishes on my anticipated gruesome and lonely death.

The writers of such things always want me to die gruesomely and alone.

Probably because they anticipate that being their own fate. Projection is a bitch.

Because when you read this sort of stuff you get the same image every time.

You imagine the writer is an unfuckable lump of seriously massive and unhappy pork fat sporting a purple crewcut, coke-bottle glasses and a faint mustache (more like a "backstache" and maybe "thighbrows", too).

 She most likely has four breasts (including one under each arm), and like most species of bovines, four stomachs, as well. Hence the outrageous muffin top that even manages to spill out of her overalls. She spends her days tending to the 17 "rescue" cats (about half of them really stolen, because they just happened to stray into her yard) that will eventually consume her bloated carcass when she shuffles off this mortal coil, probably as a result of a self-inflicted overdose of deep-fried Twinkies, a serious course of self-mutilation as a failed attention-getter...and because lonely bitch.

The last penis she probably ever saw was her brother's, and most likely, her father's, and in neither case was this an accident. It's why she's a massive tub of unbridled angry corpulence, becoming obese and developing the same demeanor as an angry rhino (which she resembles very closely) as a defense mechanism against more unwanted penises.

Even the ones that don't belong to blood relatives that, despite all protests to the contrary, she does want.


(As an aside, no, I'm not downplaying the emotional and mental trauma of sexual abuse).

I get accused, especially after writing something like yesterday's rant, of being a misogynist. To prove the assertion, the person who wants me to die in agony, bleeding from my asshole and alone, usually points to other things I've written in a similar vein. My three well-wishers all pointed to the same three posts I made here some years ago.

(For reference, you can see them all here)

Which is a funny circumstance; that three separate people who one would imagine don't know one another ALL send pretty much the same e-mail with reference to the same three posts.

What are the odds?

So, I'm either dealing with a single individual using different e-mail addresses, or it is a concerted effort by a (very) small group of uppity -- but unused -- vaginas. Who have nothing better to do but to miss or ignore context. Probably all in the same fat-as-hell, wouldn't-fuck-her-with-someone-else's-dick, lesbo sorority.

Smegma Moo Psycho, or something.

Well, let me put that accusation of misogyny to rest.

The Overlord LOVES women. Absolutely adores them.

He hates cunts.

And there's a lot of them about.

However, The Overlord is an equal-opportunity wanna-be Hitler; he hates a lot of Men just as much.

In fact, if my overfed, distended, involuntarily-celibate respondents had taken the time to do some research, they would have found that this blog -- and my older one (The Lunatic's Asylum) - are overflowing with choice and vicious invective aimed straight at Men.

In fact, Men probably get more hate here than women, on average.

All you have to do to find out is to do a search on my "Douchebag of the Week" pieces and you'll see a fairly lopsided split along gender lines.

So, no, I don't hate women -- only most -- and I hate most men, too. This is because, speaking as a superior being in all ways, the vast majority of people I have encountered in my life have had tapioca for brains, are generally deeply conceited without having any reason to be, ethically-challenged, morally-challenged, and have usually been the type to tell me that I can't do something, or will never achieve something, and these idiots over the years have been nothing but the fuel of my rocket-like rise from child of Blue Collar background to I-Can-Buy-And-Sell-Your-Ass-With-The-Spare-Change-In-My-Sofa status.

I LIVE to see the looks on their faces when they're proven wrong. The number of suicides among my pantheon of patronizing doubters are beyond count, because I never let them forget it.

I have encountered very few individuals who have been worthy of my attention and friendship over the years. And this is because, at a very early age, I learned how to avoid truly reprehensible people and collect the cream of humanity for my companions.

Mostly, I will admit, by trial and error and some very painful or difficult life lessons. Because people suck, and I deserve better. So, if I'm dismissive of a then 20-something who thought the best way to my wallet was through my underwear, and if I'm honest about both understanding her motives and means, taking advantage of both to my own benefit, then so be it. Guilty as fucking charged.

Now, ask me if I give a fuck?

Conversely, the women who didn't treat me like an ATM machine, sex toy, or trophy boyfriend got treated infinitely better. Like all good, fair and honest transactions, and sex IS a transaction (women complicate it with "feelings"), the happy buyer and seller both got something they valued. In this case, a relationship of equals, with mutual respect and consideration of the other.

The complaints are amusing, especially when they come from self-proclaimed feminists, who have only been telling women for 100 years that a weaponized vagina and playing the role of neighborhood pincushion was the key to "empowerment" and happiness, and should some dude brag about taking advantage of all this low-hanging fruit and showing the fruit no respect in the process, then I have to laugh.

What was that old saw about being careful what you wish for, again?

And the Vaginas of my youth (and approaching middle age) were all so easy. Mostly because they could not solve the internal conundrum that confounds them all:

Do I stick to my feminist principles, or do I succumb to the offer of a few tequila shots and a Steely Dan t-shirt offered by a good-looking guy with a fat wallet and excellent prospects?

Because in the end, that's what women are -- accumulators. Men are producers (spare me the drooling testimony of how you're the exception to this rule). This is simple biology at work on a subconscious level, and if they understood what was happening to them, they'd slap themselves in the face for being so fucking stupid.

And then they'd also figure out why Feminism is a load of horsecrap.

(And if anyone is interested is the mechanisms by how this state of affairs operates, I'll be happy to summarize in the comments. Or, you could read a bunch of biology and psychology books -- not those written by left-wing women and limp-dicked simps feigning fawning admiration for Feminists as a method by which to get laid -- and figure it out for yourselves).

Since we're on the subject, I would like to definitively state to one and all that the source of all of the evil in the universe, even the evil that sees a middle-aged man refer to a youthful conquest as The Vagina is, in fact, The Vagina.

Bear with me...

Even the most-strident, self-congratulating, self-absorbed, self-deluded feminist has a love/hate relationship with the Panty Hamster. On the one hand, the Furburger is the Source of Life (actually, it's only HALF the source of life, the penis being the other, but why quibble?), a veritable fountain of pleasure, a badge of courage and distinction, possession of which gives a woman unbounded powers over Space, Time, Matter, Energy and (supposedly) Men.

Women will lavish the Lady Garden with the most-obscure of luxuries, from exquisite landscaping to Perrier, Cucumber and Evergreen douches, spend inordinate amounts of money on toys that vibrate, rotate, operate in multiple axes, and double as a jackhammer, steam The Clam for that fresh feeling it provides, buy candles that smell like their own twat, have it refurbished via plastic surgery -- like they were remodeling the fucking kitchen --  and otherwise do all sorts of stupid shit on its behalf to keep it young, alluring, sweet-smelling and attractive, and advertise it's availability online like they were selling a brand new Mercedes.

On the other hand, The Vertical Smile is a fucking drag which saddles you with cramps, water retention, bleeding, the horror of pregnancy and childbirth, makes you a perpetual target for rape, and possession of such somehow -- ALWAYS --mystically relegates one to second-class status in society, business and academia.

The Feminists often sound like those storefront "Reverends" who scream the virtues of being Black and the power it provides and represents, and then after the collection plate is full tell the same audience that the deck is stacked against them -- because Black --  so why bother trying?

Even in The Ancient Days, The Minge was recognized as a serious menace and danger to humanity.

In all the horror stories of the Ancient World, The Beaver is front and center.

Eve ate the apple first.

Pandora opened the box.

Kali/Devi was given power to vanquish evil and became a murderous bitch.

Helen of Troy killed more Greeks than AIDS and rancid olive oil, combined.

Lucretia Borgia screwed and poisoned half the male nobility of Europe (allegedly).

And in all of these stories, the main problem with the protagonists was that they suffered from the same defects -- the best idea they ever heard usually turned out to be the last idea they heard, the lack of a linear thought process prevented them from foreseeing the consequences of their actions, an inability to follow directions, ethical and moral deficiencies.

But, I digress...

More evidence to the destructive power of the Quim abound: Stalin, Hitler, Mao, Pol Pot, Che Guevara, Ghengis Khan, and many other bloodthirsty and demented individuals all came out of a Vagina once.

Watch daytime television (Mrs. Overlord is an avid consumer of such fare) and the screen is a testament to the stupidity, chaos and misery that comes with a Hair Pie -- women DNA testing the fifth, sixth or seventh man they guess fathered their children (and being wrong, again). Lawsuits that have their origins in a jilted Honey Pot. Runaway brides. Tinder dates gone wrong. Deadbeat boyfriends and Baby Daddies (you picked him ,Sunshine). Neglected and abused children that neither Egg nor Sperm Donor wanted. 

Watch any episode of "Real Housewives of _____" and see just what spoiled, egotistical, dumb-as-a-fucking-stump whores are running around out there...and other women want to BE them.

Fuck, watch The View (or any of it's knockoffs) and take a gander at what "empowerment" does for the truly clueless, mentally-challenged, over-primped Vaginas that show up on them, and which are supposed to be taken seriously.

Fuck, just at look at what Vagina has done to the American political system and way of life. It's been saturated with Vagina of the likes of Hilary Clinton, AOC and The Squad, Maxine Waters, Nancy Pelosi, Stacey Abrams, Sheila Jackson Lee, Barbara Boxer, and for fuck's sake, Kamala Harris, who have fundamentally (emphasis on "mental") changed American culture so that it is a cesspit of moral relativity and rejoices in it's "victimhood" (which is always invented, btw. If you want to see real hardship, Sweetheart. Try living in the Kalahari or Amazon. You've never had it so good).

They ignore the undeniable fact that the very basis of civilization is the protection and sustenance of the Vagina, the Breeding Stock, as it were. If any class of human beings has benefitted more from civilization, it has been women. Especially Western woman, who are the whiniest and greediest assholes on Earth. Even worse than Zuckerberg or Bezos.

To illustrate just how deadly and powerful a weapon a Meat Sleeve can be when in the (metaphorically) wrong hands, take note of the rise of the transgenderized. Do you think Men actually WANT to be women, or do you think a few of them have figured out that a squeaky vajayjay -- even a pretend one -- eventually gets all the grease in this society? Their apparent gender confusion isn't the result of a mental disorder or being gay, it's a method by which they can get in on the gravy train of special status and the rewards that come with it, too.

And even when a cooter is in the (supposedly) RIGHT hands, the combination of hormones and fucktard it engenders typically ends in disaster, as, for example, one makes decisions or advocates any particular point-of-view on a strictly emotional as opposed to rational basis. All one has to do is turn on the news or open a paper and see the likes of Jen Psaki, Rachel Maddow, Andrea Mitchell, Mika Brzezinski, Joy Reid, Maureen Dowd, Gail Collins, that stupid fool on The Young Turks (whose name is not worth remembering), do any of them give you the impression of being rational in any way, shape or form? Does any of them give you the impression that they would know an objective fact if it hit them in the head like a lead brick?

Don't you find it strange that even when they KNOW they're lying, they don't seem to care, because the lie is necessary for the advancement or benefit of The Vagina?

That's not to say there aren't stupid and crazy men, but I can promise you, at the very root of all their demented politics, their fucked up social engineering advocacy, there is a common thread: The Vagina must come out on top. 

There's a difference between male stupidity and female stupidity: men do stupid things because they can. Women do stupid things because they feel they ought to.

I have met a shitload of females in my time who would rather follow their feelz -- which they often don't understand, themselves -- and literally agonize over them for days, weeks, years, rather than to engage their brains.  

Because drama equals attention. All women are insecure and need constant attention and reassurance, even the ones who say they don't. It gets worse with age as their reproductive capacity wanes and looks fade, too, 

If it seems as if The Overlord has exclusively picked on the Tuna Taco-American community, well, I'm sorry you feel that way (not really).

My issue is not that I am a misogynist -- you only think that because that's only as far as your thinking (biases and reading skills) took you.

I am a Misanthrope. I despise most of humanity as a general rule. The difference between disliking men and being dismissive of women is, in my experience, women are generally easier to dismiss AND IT'S THEIR OWN FUCKING FAULT, because every last one of you in the last 50 years comes with what Fred Reed once described as "The Chip", like it was pre-installed software that can't be removed from the operating system.

"The Chip" is an attitude, both passive and aggressive, which is based upon some truly messed up thought patterns, very bad social science and myths poured into young brains like cement into a post hole, and an inability to understand a very simple concept:

If you want respect, be worthy of it.

The way women of the last five decades have treated themselves, their bodies, and Men, has led to a gradually expanding gap in the basic human relationship. It has changed, maybe forever, the way people interact and regard each other. In the past, women were aware of and valued their worth. They didn't give up their Pearl of Great Price without a bunch of guarantees, the prime one being marriage. In my time, women decided that their value was measured in the extent to which they could emulate the behavior of Men.

Except since Women don't understand what it truly is to be a Man, the answer they came up with was that Men didn't suffer the consequences of Sex, so neither should they. hence, birth control and abortion. In the process, they gave up what made them valuable.

They became whores of their own volition. They often demanded they be treated that way, too, embraced it as a lifestyle. Then they got angry when Men gave them what they wanted, and so "rape culture" and "equity" were invented in order to find excuses to create martyrs out of women who chose poorly.

The majority of the women I have encountered in my life haven't rated much in terms of respect or admiration. That may be a consequence of my own choices when it comes to association, and I freely admit to having not always being very selective at various times in my life, but it's more likely to be because women worthy of such consideration are about as common as fucking unicorns.

On Mars.

I hope this explains my position to the feminazi keyboard warriors. Then again, maybe I really don't.

P.S. I also do it because I know it riles you up. Sometimes, you have to entertain yourself because no one else will, and you're always just as easy to bait as you always were to bed.


GMay said...

I want to receive death threats. Do I need to start blogging? Can you point some of your excess murderous fans my way?

Also, disappointed you didn't get in ham wallet or hatchet wound.

Matthew Noto said...

Sausage wallet, Spermcatcher and Baby Slide were next on the list.

The funniest death threats used to come from keyboard Jihadis, post 9/11.

Yeah, you want to talk about people who are deathly AFRAID of the power of the Pork Pocket? Sexually-frustrated Islamic dudes are Exhibit A.