Things that men and women do, sometimes to each other
I saw that the CanuckiPM’s wife has been diagnosed with the dreaded Wuhan virus. I didn’t even know the little drip was married, so I hastened to see the evidence:
Wait… what? Shome mishtake, shurrly.
She’s quite hot, in that bland north-of-the-48th-parallel way, and probably could have had her choice of Canucki-males. But no. This near-hottie did this:
…with this?
Good grief.
Then I learned that she’s since had three children, all allegedly fathered by him.
As I said, inexplicable…
Certain things in life cannot be explained, e.g.:
…and this:
…how this doofus ever became famous:
…and why people continue to believe that government-made levees won’t fail:
But in that set of of inexplicable things, this headline tops all of them:
Here’s what I don’t understand: how the hell did this story ever get out?
Did the hairdresser brag about her feat on Faecesbook? Were the hairdresser’s customers alerted to this man’s predicament by his muffled screams, and called the cops?
OR: did this helpless victim get free (either by being released by his captor, or somehow breaking free by his own efforts)… and then complain about it to the cops? What kind of man would do that?
And (if the newspaper account of this escapade is to be believed) even as the former were the case, why did the cops take him seriously?
Now if the hairdresser looked like this, then maybe I could understand it better.
…but once again, if the article is to be believed, she wasn’t that bad-looking (with the “Russian caveat”* in effect).
So… did this helpless sex slave think he was going to get his own back on her (so to speak) by shopping her to the cops? If so, that worked out really well for him, as he was tossed into jail for the action which got him into this predicament in the first place, and where he was likely to be raped again, only by men and without the after-sex reward of food, money and a pair of jeans.
Like I said: inexplicable.
*the Russian caveat: not all young Russian women look like worn-out Moscow street prostitutes, but it’s the safe way to bet.
I noted the disappearance of Chris “Tingles Up And Down My Leg” Matthews from some Commie TV network (don’t watch any, no idea which one), but while I’m not sorry to see the asshole go, the reason why he “retired” (sexual harassment) just makes me want to reach for a new bottle of J&B. Here’s part of his farewell statement:
“Compliments on a woman’s appearance that some men, including me, might have once incorrectly thought were OK, were never OK. Not then and certainly not today.”
Apparently, Matthews said to some TV totty: “Why have I never fallen in love with you before?”
To me, that’s just about as big a compliment a man could pay a woman. Also, the fact that the septuagenarian Matthews said that signals that he was obviously not hitting on her — I mean, old guys say that kind of stuff to younger women all the time (“If I were thirty years younger, I’d ask you for a date” etc.) — and let me be crystal clear about this: such declarations are, and always have been, a compliment.
Of course, in today’s fucking ultra-sensitive #MeToo #KillAllMen #BelieveAllWomen #AndreaDworkinWorld, that’s seen as no different from pushing a woman against a wall and forcing her to feel your dick. (In another milieu, that outlook is little different from PETA’s “a rat is a dog is a boy” extremist equivalence.)
All I can say is that I’m glad that I don’t work for a modern corporation, nor will I ever again; and I’m also glad that I live in the South, where women still understand (and indeed practice) the subtle art of flirtation.
Because I’m not going to quit. As I’ve said many times in the past, I live for harmless flirting and complimenting women — it establishes my love for women and, more importantly, it stops me from treating women the same way I tend to treat men — harshly (because, duh, we’re men and that’s how we treat each other).
Even more than that: I can’t quit behaving with women the way I do; it’s as deeply ingrained in my character as my table manners — maybe more so — and without that subtle interplay with the other sex, I’d just become a caricature grumpy old man who hates everybody. (As it is, that attitude is never far from the surface at the best of times.) I’m not going to change just because it’s no longer acceptable to some women: I’m going to open doors for them, help them stow their luggage on an airliner, walk on the street-side of a sidewalk and yes, compliment them on their appearance and all the other stuff that I’ve done my entire adult life.
And quite frankly, if any woman has a problem with that, she can fuck right off. (That’s just a little taste of — to coin a phrase — the other side of Kim, and it’s not very pleasant.)
Oh, and to Chris Matthews: it’s always been okay to compliment a woman on her appearance; it’s just that in today’s pussified world, some self-appointed arbiters of Acceptable Behavior have changed the rules on us. Fuck ’em.
Okay, this one got a series of snorks from me, because I’m a sick bastard. A sample:
All the comments are from women… and sadly, they’re more tragic than funny.
I think that Feminism, when viewed from a historical perspective, will prove to have become completely counter-productive (if not actually destructive) for women after the 1970s, simply because I think it was founded on a faulty premise: unlike the famous saying, the fact is that you can’t have it all — never could, never will. Life is a series of compromises, but some compromises are worse than others — women waiting to get married until they’re in their mid- to late thirties being a good example.
If you have daughters in their late teens or early twenties, feel free to pass this link on to them, as a warning.
Back in the day when airline flying meant a chance to ogle some beautiful young women in uniform, they were called “stewardesses” or “stews”. Often, the airlines enforced a “no married women” and even an age limit policy for the stews because, the reasoning went, if the stews had families, they’d be affected by the absense of Mommy while she’d be out of town so often. So We The Passengers had to put up with stuff like this:
Then some asswipe in Big Airline HR decided that this was eeeevil and anti-womyns or something, with the result that nowadays, international flights resemble Grab-A-Granny Night at TGI Friday, or Open Bar Night at The Villages. (No pics, I can’t bear the thought.)
Then last year, Sports Illustrated took some shit because, and I quote:
“…the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue doesn’t care about plus-sized women, athletes, or religious models. It cares about staying relevant while also profiting off men buying a magazine to drool over hot women. These silly claims of empowerment through the swimsuit issue cannot change the fact that pages of sexualized women marketed toward men are inherently sexist, insulting, and gross.”
(I even talked about it here.)
Needless to say, the stupids at Sports Illustrated decided to make their crap magazine yet more crappy, by taking the above criticism to heart for this year’s T&A issue, hence this appalling prospect:
Wait till you see the “plus-sized” (i.e. grossly overweight) entrant… it’ll put you off chocolate cake for life. (By the way, the granny in the above pic is quite hot, IMO, but if yer gonna put some granny-aged totty in a bikini, why not someone like Sharon Stone, or Stephanie Seymour?)
This modern attitude towards women’s bodies is starting to get to me. As are the Woke Generation, in toto.
You know how you watch an unfurling catastrophe, shouting “Noooo!” in helpless frustration? I speak here of events such as watching your best friend getting involved with a Train Smash Woman, or a lady friend taking up with a rancid Bad Boy, or another friend announcing with pride that he’s just put down a deposit on a Ferrari or cabin cruiser.
You know it’s all going to end horribly, with pain, tears and destruction in various forms, but you’re helpless to prevent it happening.
That’s how I feel about this development:
A crown green bowls club which has never allowed women to join as full members in its 100-year history is set to vote on whether to admit them.
Ilkley Bowling Club has about 1,700 full members, all of whom are eligible to vote in the ballot at the West Yorkshire spa town’s King’s Hall on March 3.
Women can only enter the bar of the club – which was founded in the early 1920s – as guests of members, and are banned completely during the week.
The main bar area – where a pint of beer costs less than £2 – is an entirely male preserve on weekdays and women are permitted to drink as ‘associates’ after 5pm from Friday to Sunday and on bank holidays.
Their mistake was in allowing female members in the first place, and allowing women onto the premises at all.
It’s not helped by the fact that lawn bowls is a game at which women are generally on a par with men in ability (see description here). But a bowling club is not just about the game, is it? Without the womyns, Ilkley B.C. would most probably be a happy place, where men can drink to excess, swear like troopers and in general act like the hooligan which lies not far beneath the surface of all of us.
If they open up membership to include the other sex, that will all change. I know that if I were a member, I’d resign if they did — as I would in any men-only club of which I was a member.
And for those with short memories, it’s not the first time I’ve ranted about this topic.