I'm not the kind of chap to toot his own hunting horn, but I'm considered somewhat of an expert on women. Yes, I have an eye for the ladies. It's non-stop. Now I could chat all day on the subject--and I would, too, if provided with enough cocktails--but I shall keep this brief and venomous. Pardon me in advance if I'm too candid, as English is not my first language. This is a warning.
My relationship with women goes way back. My dear old mother was a woman, that is until she skipped out on us to join a hippy commune and became...well, became something else. As a little boy I was surrounded by spoiled female relatives whose desires and demands, it was explained to me, were supposed to come before mine, just because [and this is key] they were women--an unnatural situation, I realised, that I kicked at with determination, creating permanent discord.
My natural interests as a man, I saw, were supposed to come second, as an afterthought. But the experience was good training, providing useful insights into the mind both of the woman and the mangina. The mangina functions as the male enabler for the bitch, especially the All-American Bitch (AAB), two halves of a symbiotic relationship. I managed to snap out of it in my early twenties, having learned a few painful lessons along the way.
Just because they were women. Let it sink in. You know where this comes from, don't you? Romance, chivalry, the cult of the gentleman. All of these were designed by sunken-chested men to tame not only women, but also stronger, more savage males.
I know grown men who've succumbed. They are successful and secure, but nevertheless a flame of disillusionment and anger burns inside, that might set off in unexpected ways. How many random shootings can society take? I hope you have a strong stomach, for these are the wages of feminism. Feminism sows conflict between the sexes, fostering disappointment and resentment, and leading, ultimately, to lowered birth-rates. In this way, feminism can be understood as the ideology of genocide. Feminism is anti-life.
It is paradoxical, in light of the aforesaid, that insofar as I enjoy human company, which admittedly is not very much, I often prefer that of women over men. One of the reasons for this, I think, is that I understand them. They are bearable because they simply can not help their nature. I forgive them--and love them--for it. In addition to which, there's nothing here for them to target. One of the advantages of a frozen heart is that it is largely impervious to their machinations. A chap with nothing to lose, has nothing to lose.
The cost of knowing the score is isolation. It is something to be endured. Consorting with other men, the manginas, is simply too painful to bear. Sometimes the silliest bitch is an improvement over a pussified male.
Eventually Nature will re-assert itself and the natural order of things will be restored. Whether it is achieved by a Western Restoration, or an alien ideology such as Islam, is a matter for us to discuss over whisky and cigars. But it will happen. It's just a matter of time. What we have been living through for the past 60 years or so is a temporary situation, an aberration. It will pass. So be patient, take heart, and take back what is yours. Tomorrow belongs to us.
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