Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting

This photo is not about you

Today is Saturday. The weekend has barely begun. Already I am sore, exhausted and fried like bacon from working out in the yard in the full sun. The yard, for what its worth, looks a hell of a lot better than I do right now.

I have too many cars in the driveway now that I have fully moved everything back to hell, er, Memphis. Consequently, I managed to hit my own truck with my own car. It's OK, though. The truck didn't feel it a bit. The car, on the other hand, is dented like hell. Apparently God didn't make big trucks and middle-sized cars equal.

Take that, you spoiled little red bitch!

I'm curious, if I ask you to comment and simply say "I still read this blog" would you do it? I'm asking this because previous posts have resulted in totally unrelated comments and a few people saying in those comments "I don't read this blog anymore" and yet somehow they were reading all the comments and managed to leave comments replying to comments that were in no way related to the post they followed. Do you still read this blog? Do you think Facebook and Google+ have cut the legs out from under blogging? I wonder sometimes exactly who is still out there reading and who has moved on to other things.

Speaking of moving on, my life of late has kept me extremely busy and unable to make time for the internet in general. That means blogging, Facebooking, surfing, Googling - anything. I'd like to say the busyness is a good thing, that I'm doing fabulous new things that I enjoy, or that I have a new family and am busy taking care of my own kids, but none of that is true. I'm just busy.

Someone recently asked which car I had decided on. I'm leaning heavily towards the Challenger. It's just that it costs so damn much compared to the Mustang and it's much harder to find with the options that I want. MUCH harder. So I'm looking for it, but we'll see what happens with this.

Where oh where are you tonight?

I have made absolutely no headway on the Little Red Riding Hood story at all. I have started several different versions of it, only to be interrupted and never get to finish. By the time I get back to it I can't remember where I had intended to go, or I no longer feel inspired by the idea I had, and I have to start over. I may resort to writing something else just to get going again and see if this helps me do the one you guys selected. Moving in the middle of all this didn't help any, but it's more than just that. I simply feel no solid inspiration. I feel ... I don't know how to explain how I feel lately, but it hasn't lent itself well to creativity.

Not the only one lost in the forest

So apparently my new smartphone records video in mp4 instead of mp3. This has caused me more than a small headache as all attempts to upload a particular video have failed repeatedly. YouTube sends me emails telling me it is rejected. Facebook simply fails. Vimeo tells me it is too large and can't be uploaded at all unless I cut out a substantial amount of it. It's a live performance of a song, so cutting it would wreck the song.


Have you ever watched squirrels traveling between trees? They're like acrobats, leaping from tiny branch tips onto other tiny branch tips and sometimes barely catching, nearly falling from high up in the air.

And sometimes they do fall. And they scream. And it's the funniest damn thing you ever did see.

No, they don't die. The ground below is all dirt and leaves. I suppose if squirrels have curse words in their barking language then the sounds they make after they land is squirrel-cussing. Whatever, it's damned funny.

If only I could get THAT on video!

So anyway, I have to get an estimate on fixing my car after I whacked my truck with it. I suppose I'll get it fixed. I should just trade it in on a new Dodge Challenger or Mustang and forget it. But I know I won't. I always try to fix things, even when it's a waste of time and I should just discard it and start over.

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Gym Douche

Gonna do some running, girlfrien'

What do you call a guy who walks into the men's bathroom, sees a long row of pee toilets all unoccupied except the one way over in the corner that you're using, and instead of respecting your space and using one on the opposite side of the bathroom he comes over and stands right next to you to pee?

Yeah, you call that guy a homo, an asshole, a freak, a dick, a retard.

Well guess what? We kinda say the same thing about a guy who sees a row of empty treadmills all unoccupied and one treadmill with a guy on it running along by himself in the far corner, and so that guy goes over and gets on the treadmill right next to the guy running by himself. Yeah, that was awesome. Thanks for that.

It wasn't bad enough that he skipped all the empty treadmills to come over and run right beside me. No, that was just the beginning of his exemplary retardation.

He ran like Phoebe on "Friends" when she's intentionally being a dork and flailing around like a Special Olympics contestant. And he stomped. He stomped so loud that I could hear him stomping over the sound of his blasting dipshit music.

Speaking of that, how much of a totally self-absorbed child-man do you have to be to bring your phone with no headphones and just blast your music at everyone around you as if we all want to hear that shit? I ask because that's exactly what this guy did. And even with my earbuds pressed deep into my ears I was still forced to listen to his blasting backwoods redneck gangsta twang which was only surpassed in noise by the sound of his clown feet pounding the treadmill like a donkey dancing on a big bass drum. Was he trying to break it? It sure sounded like his goal was to see if he could literally stomp the treadmill until it broke in half.

Oh, but my favorite part of his whole retarded display was the hoodie he was wearing. It's fucking 80 degrees and he and his 2 boyfriends were all dressed just alike in matching hoodies. But he, while stomping along at a dead sprint like a squirrel on a wheel and blasting "Redneck Woman" on his phone for all of us, he actually tried to be 'cool' and flip up his hood like some gangsta rapper, cuz you know, that protects you from bullets and other people at the gym who think you're an ass for blasting music from your phone with no headphones.

I could NOT fuckin' believe that he put the hood up over his head and tried to run like that. I was tempted to reach over and kick him off the treadmill before shouting "Oh my God, they killed Kenny! BASTARDS!"

They killed Kenny!

I know that high school is a tough time. A person's brain is not fully formed, or even half-formed really. You're effectively a child in a floppy adult body. But even when I was in high school, my friends and I never brought our music into any public gym and tried to get away with blasting it at everyone else. We knew even then that this was totally selfish and asinine. Not only that, but it would have gotten our asses beat.

I am almost certain that this guy is still in high school. Surely he must be. Because if not, and he's acting like that, then he needs to go back and redo a few grades. Something didn't take.

The best part, though, the absolute cherry on top of this whole experience was when I took the time to get a good look at him and discovered that without his hood up he looked like this:

No wonder he wore his hood up

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Why Sexism is Good for Everyone

According to the latest issue of Time Magazine, women make more money than men for the same work now.

And this, their headline screams, IS GOOD FOR EVERYONE.

Wasn't it Time Magazine that claimed that men made more money than women and that this is proof of sex discrimination, a bad thing? In fact, they still claim this even as they declare that women make more than men. Apparently when you're a communist and feminist you can make contradictory statements at the same time and not see the problem.

15 years ago, with Hillary Clinton as first lady and feminism being funded from the White House and American Taxpayer through coercive force, feminism and the female supremacist religion in general, was in decline. Americans were seeing firsthand the raging misandry of both Hillary Clinton and her Attorney General, Janet Reno, in action and they did not like it. Time Magazine responded by running a full-on propaganda issue about 'the decline of feminism' and asked if feminism was dead. It was straight out of the Kremlin's own textbooks on stirring up support for unpopular communist bullshit and was intended to stir women to join the Church of Misandry and Narcissism, aka Feminism.

For all my life, communist feminists have bitched and bitched about women not making as much money as men and women not being in Congress as much as men and women not wanting to be CEOs as much as men and all of this, and anything else they could think of, was all men's fault, and all always bad. They insisted that there was a mythical 'war on women' which no one could see any sign of, but that was because it was a deep male conspiracy that all males were secretly meeting together to plot and plan with such precision that no one could actually see any real indication of this war on women. Only the feminist possessors of secret knowledge could see it, and they were going to fight it to the last dead male.

For all my life, those same communist female supremacist bigots have declared that any discrimination or disparity between the sexes is sexist, and that all sexism is wrong.

Well is it? Is sexism wrong?

If sexism is wrong, then any celebration of sexism is even more immoral, because it is an acknowledgement of sexism followed by a happy joy for it. It is choosing to embrace sexism rather than disavow or fight against it.

And that is precisely what the feminists have always done, while simultaneously bitching endlessly about sexism which doesn't favor women. They have celebrated sexism to its fullest, but only when that sexism oppresses males.

For as long as I can remember, the average man on the street has identified feminism as a hate movement, claiming to be about equal rights while actually being a hate movement dedicated to spreading hatred and oppression against the entire male sex. The feminists, of course, denied this.

Yet in every feminist book by every feminist leader they openly state that the real goal of their movement includes the destruction of males, and the destruction of all things masculine that isn't controlled by lesbian women. In every feminist magazine and article and newspaper and interview and TV show they have said the same, that their real goal is the destruction of males as a whole.

And now, with tens of billions of taxpayer dollars and endless government mandates by unelected officials and 'czars' requiring discrimination against males at every level, from grade school programs to university recruiting to corporate salaries and promotions to even their own murder-supporting branch of the Department of Justice, they have reached a new milestone, women outearning men.

They want to crow as loudly as they can. But they know that to celebrate this openly is to admit that their real goal is not equality on any level, but oppression, dictatorship, and tyranny through sexism against males, and any females who dare to disagree with their agenda. They want to crow and throw a public celebration, but they can't. So they do the next best thing - they devote an entire issue of a shit magazine that no one reads to celebrating their sexist achievement. They all buy up the issues, frame them, hang them on their walls, and rest assured that no one else will ever read about it because no one with a right-thinking mind pays any attention to anything coming from Time anymore. It's a worthless rag, a tool of the American communist party, not even useful for wiping your ass with because the pages are too plasticky and slick. It doesn't even burn well because all the plastic makes it stink. It's just like feminism, totally full of lies and hate and generally useful for nothing.
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Kate Middleton's cousin debuts 'God Save the Queen' burlesque show in New York wearing a crown (and not much else)

Kate Middleton's cousin debuts 'God Save the Queen' burlesque show in New York wearing a crown (and not much else)

By Victoria Wellman


Katrina Darling, the much-talked-about racy burlesque dancer who just happens to be second cousin once removed to the Middleton sisters, has officially arrived on the New York nightlife scene.

Last night the 21-year-old opened her 'God Save the Queen' act in the basement of a Soho nightclub wearing a red sequined dress, gold elbow-length gloves and a tiny crown.

But the playful headpiece perching just off-centre atop her head was the only thing remaining at the end of the show, save for a pair of royal pasties.

Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
A royal salute: Katrina Darling, second cousin once removed to the Middleton sisters, performed her burlesque act last night at WiP in New York's Soho where she stripped almost completely nude

'I take my clothes off,' she explained to the New York Post in the run up to her US debut, 'but I don’t give away anything that should be kept for someone else.'

The dark-haired buxom beauty, kicked off the set at WiP with a Union Jack tied around her waist and the kind of cheeky glint in her eye you'd expect from someone who labels herself 'the royal family's closest brush with soft porn'.

Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Racy: The 21-year-old named her show 'God Save the Queen' and wore appropriately provocative regalia mimicking the royal garb of the British monarch

Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Baring all: Miss Darling claims she's has no problem stripping off but leaves the most important parts covered

During the course of the night she stripped down to a red and gold bra and knickers with fur trim reminiscent of the coronation cloak the Queen wore in 1953 though clearly, a somewhat less modest re-imagination.

In a tantalising striptease the daring dancer disrobed further until the only things covering her were a pair of well placed red stickers. And of course, the crown.

Miss Darling, who makes her trade by day as a banker at Barclay's in London is not shy about her late night escapades and claims the team who work alongside her in the private wealth management division of the bank consider her second job a riot.

Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Naked ambition: The glamorous performer says her sideline job is just a bit of fun and her colleagues at Barclay's Bank where she works by day are supportive and entertained by her antics

'Everybody is really supportive. The English know how to laugh at themselves a bit more,' she explained ahead of the show last night.

As for her cousins, though God Save the Queen certainly makes for a handy hook in America where Kate Middleton and the Royals are adored, the provocative performer has never met them.

In fact, explains promoter Lyle Derek of the club Work in Progress, she didn't even know she was related to them before Kate and Prince William were engaged.

Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Katrina Darling performs during Dropout at WIP in New York
Take a bow: Despite Miss Darling exploiting her royal connections on stage, she has never met the Middletons and only discovered she was related when Kate and Prince William announced their engagement

He told Metro World News: 'We invited her because first of all she’s gorgeous. We feel that she’s such a true punk, we’re looking to get more into burlesque. It wasn’t just the angle of her being related to Kate Middleton.'

And backing up Miss Darling's story added: 'Honestly… she found out about Kate Middleton from the press. She does not care; she just does her burlesque thing. She’s having fun, and the (relationship) is kind of a cute little after thought to her.'

Read more:
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It's Blahday

Mr and Ms Smith

I'm running on fumes here. My brain is as exhausted as my body and both are pretty dead. And yet I feel as if I have accomplished absolutely nothing this week.

I wrote a letter to a writer at a very large newspaper. She had written an article about marriage in which she referred to the couple as "Mr and Ms Smith" and then spent the rest of the article talking about "Ms Smith". When two people get married and the woman takes the man's last name, unless she's about to divorce him you'll almost never hear her ask to be called "Ms" instead of "Mrs", especially in an article that is ABOUT MARRIAGE. But this writer does this all the time. So I shot her an email.

To be fair, it was a rapidly written, irritated email without much thought. But the thing is, I have written to this same writer before and when she wrote back to me previously she lied and said "we ask every woman we write about what she prefers."

I had responded "I find it odd that every single woman chooses "Ms" then, without exception other than Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi, whom you always ALWAYS refer to as Mrs."

After writing this I actually contacted some of the women she had written about, including Mrs Bill Gates, and asked them. The responses were overwhelmingly "They didn't ask me my preference and I NEVER go by Ms."

So this writer and I already had a bad history of her lying to me. As a result, I was a bit of an asshole in my letter to her this time.

She responded to me that her editor orders her to do this and that her editor had written to me in the past and told me this already.

I keep every email I have ever been sent that isn't spam. Seriously. I have emails in my inbox and sent box going back to the 1990s.

One editor of one section at this paper wrote to me last year and claimed that all newspapers use "Ms" instead of "Mrs" for all women. And I had responded with examples of this paper referring to Nancy Pelosi as Mrs Pelosi and Hillary Clinton as Mrs Clinton, both of which are ironic considering they are the only women this paper will acknowledge the marital status of and yet Hillary hasn't even lived in the same house as Bill for over 12 years. I can only assume that this was the editor that the writer was referring to.

So anyway, having nothing better to do, obviously, I researched this newspaper's readers. Over 80 percent of their readers are males. You would think it would be 80 percent feminist women from the things they write, but no, it's almost all men. And yet issue after issue promotes not only a disrespect for married women, but a radical feminism so extreme that it once spilled out into an all-out war between the old feminists and the young feminists who work at this paper as they argued openly on the pages of the paper about whether or not women should vote for Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama. No other candidate was even given consideration as a possible choice. And anyone who dared to disagree with the writer(s) was torn to shreds in the articles. They were at each others throats for months.

It was actually very enlightening to see the open bias and contempt they each expressed for one another in those articles simply because they dared to disagree on one single issue - who to vote for in 2008.

Earlier today I was in a meeting with 2 men who recruit corporate talent for a living. I had noticed a billboard alongside Poplar Avenue in midtown featuring a photo of a man wearing a pink shirt. It was claiming to be an ad for a product targeting men. But the pink shirt communicated something entirely opposite that message. I wondered aloud to these two men whether American business leaders have totally lost their minds or just their balls. This led to a conversation about ESPN and how all the men are forced to wear pink, all the sports shows are now featuring a female lead commentator who never played any of the sports she's discussing, and how Mike Tirico is a despicable misanthropic cunt who makes Monday Night Football unbearable to listen to.

Both men agreed with me that they are sick to death of men being emasculated with pink and with perfumes and insulted by female supremacist bigots claiming to be outraged at men mistreating women when the reality is that they themselves are doing and have been doing all the sex-based hating for the past 50 plus years.

The conversation escalated from this point to a level that amazed even me. I knew men in general are pretty mad and I knew men are mostly aware that we have been getting shit on for what amounts to my entire lifetime, plus many years before. But I didn't know just how far the anger went.

And then these men began to talk about how their sons have become emasculated by television, despite their own best efforts to raise them right. Their sons want body spray and frequently go to school smelling like a skunk's ass because they use so much of it. They want designer clothes and won't even consider accepting a hand-me down from an older brother or cousin. They want to be shiny and coiffed and frilly and gay like spoiled little daddy's girls.

For as long as I can remember the Far Left has openly declared their intention of emasculating all Western males, using females to destroy marriage and bring about a cultural overthrow that leads to a global communism and a single leader to run the entire planet. They said long ago that they want to destroy both marriage and the family because they see it as an obstacle to global super government. And then they tried to justify this misanthropic view by claiming that marriage and family oppress women and thus the destruction of both is actually very pro-woman. It's the kind of twisted logic that only a person with a severe personality disorder or drug habit can manage, but then we are talking about hard-line communists here.

I remember my dad and other men of his generation talking about the books the communists had written openly declaring this plan and declaring that it would never succeed. And I note that my dad and most of his generation are dead. And no one seems to read books anymore. And the generation of males that is going to take over after my generation is currently dressed in pink and wearing Axe body spray and tooth bleach and skinny jeans. The boys coming up mostly don't have fathers thanks to the very successful movement to eliminate men from the family and drive them as far away from their homes as possible. These boys don't have a clue what it means to be a man. They can't even change their own oil in their cars, but they sure know how to buy a pair of 24 inch rims and pay someone to install blinding aftermarket Xenon headlights. They don't know the difference between a Hemi and a Wedge, but they can sure spike their hair into a neat little horn with the best of them.

I remember my dad saying they would never succeed in destroying the family and emasculating American men. But he's dead and gone and I wonder if perhaps they have already done it?

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Agent Provocateur - The Initiate

Uploaded by on 1 Feb 2012

Mylene Jampanoï stars in Agent Provocateur's Spring Summer 2012 campaign. This film shows a softer, more romantic type of erotica. A feminine sensuality rather than unabashed sexuality, inspired by the dreamy mood, colours and romanticism of the collection.

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You may have noticed that I am unable to get to my blog of late. Its true, I'm swamped with busy. I have some huge adjustments to make and until I get them taken care of my blogging will likely be very irregular.

So the instant I blogged "I still talk to Steph" she was gone. I mean, she was gone before, but we still talked. After I posted that, she was gone-gone, like the kind of gone where I wonder if she actually drowned at her parents farm or not.

There's a huge battle raging between establishment Republicans and Tea Party Republicans to see who is going to get the nomination for President. Meanwhile, Obama is trying to paint all Republicans as "anti-woman" because, as I've said before, he's our first lesbian president and thus to oppose him is to oppose all women everywhere according to communist-think. Yep, that's how it works in their twisted dogmatic world - disagree with one of those bitches and they label you as being against all bitches everywhere all the time forever.

I planted three trees already this year. I want this noted so the enviro-terrorists will give me my 'green credits' and leave me the fuck alone for the next three years. Fuck you loony religious assholes and your tree gods anyway. What do you do when you find yourself in a desert wasteland, suddenly become tree-atheists because there are no trees around? What about an environmentalist on the moon? Would he be so far from his tree gods as to be considered 'damned'?

I read recently that Chevrolet has stopped building any Volts. Apparently everything Obama touches turns instantly to shit, ala the housing market, solar power, etc, etc. No one wanted the Volt in the first place. Even a freshman in marketing could easily figure out that the market for the damn thing isn't there. Its a tiny niche, so you build just enough for that niche and no more. Ordering GM to crank out shitloads, which an American president lacks the authority to do and yet Obama did it anyway because he doesn't think the Constitution applies to tree gods like himself, doesn't guarantee success. It only guarantees a president looking like a stupid ass. So congratulations, President Stupid Ass, you proved your detractors correct. You truly don't know what the fuck you are doing.

I am exhausted and yet I can't think of why. I didn't do all that much today. I did some stuff, but it isn't as if I was flinging cinderblocks around in the back yard or anything. I moved some hoses, hauled some clothes upstairs to be stored away and little things like that. Nothing that should have worn me out. And yet here I sit, stinking of sweat and feeling as if I ran a marathon or something. WTF?

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