Tag: Sex Wars

I’m told that this is the new term for underage sex partners, although given that I’m at the “wrinkled prune” stage of life myself, I fail to see what I’m supposed to do with this information.

Anyway, here’s a sample of the above, this time from Strylia:

A former Tiger Air flight attendant who had sex with a 15-year-old boy has been released on bail after spending only one week in jail.
Melissa Nosti, from North Ryde in northern Sydney, had sex with a student at the school she used to work at as an attendance officer back in 2010.

You have to applaud her willingness to go the extra mile just to get the little scrote to stay in school — the parallel thought being that I bet that attendance among the other little scrotes was sky-high if she was spreading the love, so to speak.  And if her pictures are anything to go by, she probably was.

The only reason I noticed this at all is that the suburb where all this fresh fruit was being plucked is right next door to where the Sydney branch of my adopted family now lives.  (New Wife’s two sons and their wives live in Oz and Seffrica, respectively.)

Every so often I come across a headline which causes me to experience a complex reaction:

Russian beauty queen screaming ‘I hate women’ carries out horrifying knife attack on shop worker

Now I will confess that at times I too am tempted to strap on the old Anza Skinner and head for the fabric store, but only at times of severe provocation.

Like this one:

Female lingerie tycoon, 39, launches legal fight to force Garrick Club to admit women for first time in 189-year-old private members’ club’s history

Outside the suggestion of more gun-control laws, this is the kind of bullshit which causes me to throw shit across the room and shoot an extra hundred rounds at the range.  I’ve ranted about this topic so many times in the past (example:  here) that I can’t find anything more to say about it, other than perhaps in the invention of more swear words.

Of course, this is all happening in (formerly) Great Britain, where there’s no guaranteed freedom of association, but as my own take above on Augusta National indicates, that doesn’t mean that it can’t and won’t happen here too.

Ordinarily, I would just say (in answer to a demand to end men-only clubs) that we can do that only if all other gender-exclusionary clubs are likewise banned.   Here’s an example, from some list:

The Sorority club is an online network for professional women who want to collaborate and inspire others. While this is not a physical club, the members, 4% of whom are royalty, meet regularly at selected luxury venues in London. Membership is by invitation only, although by filling out their online pledge, you can encourage them to consider you for membership, just be sure to have a good answer to the question; ‘What do you value most in life?’
“The way women connect with each other is unique,” says founder Lisa Tse. “We have a tendency to overly criticize ourselves and often underplay our successes and achievements. In a collegiate environment of women, we thrive as we are always so supportive of our friends and aim to bring out the best in each other in a way we never do for ourselves.”
“We are also in desperate need of providing role models of real women living real lives who are successful on their own terms. We need to move away from traditional stereotypes of businesswoman and success and embrace the diverse and rich experience of inspiring women with amazing stories to tell.”

“The way women connect with each other is unique”?  Can I be the first to say that if I started a men-only club by saying “The way men connect with each other is unique”, I’d be castrated by the Feminazi Grrrrls faster than a Kardashian woman drops her panties for a rich Black guy.

Try this observation from another vagina-only club:

“There’s been a paradigm shift which means that increasingly women are seeking out other women’s company. Not that they don’t love their husbands and partners, but they often have deeper conversation with women than men. Women have become less competitive with each other, more embracing and there appears to be a sorority that is stronger than it’s ever been.”

Here’s a tip for these wimmens:  ignore the “paradigm shift” nonsense and invert the sexes, and that’s always been the case among men.  There are certain conversations that men can only have with other men — and I’m not just talking about shot groupings or 0-60 acceleration times.  And no, I’m not going to list any of those topics, because it’s nobody’s fucking business.  Unlike women, we don’t have to analyze and talk about everything — hence the need for men-only clubs like Garrick, where we can indulge ourselves with guy talk and not be interrupted by a group of people with, to be kind, a different (and stupid) set of talking points.

And show me one men-only club which actually harms women by their exclusion of cervix-owners from the dues list.

I’m running low on gin for my breakfast G&T (shuddup, we just got through a long weekend), or else I’d have a second pint.  Instead, I think I’ll just head to the 100-yard indoor range at the local gun club, where women aren’t excluded but where I’ve never actually seen a woman shooting off a Barrett, so I’m pretty much assured of male-only company (albeit without booze).

Fucking harpies.  When they ask why we hate wimmens so much, the universal answer should be:  “Because you’re always trying to pull shit like this.  Leave us the fuck alone.”

But they can’t, can they?

Over at Britain’s The Sun  litterbox-liner, there’s a regular column devoted to sex (of course) under the monicker of “Dear Deidre”.  Now I happen to think that the “letters” are total fiction (see:  Penthouse Letters etc.), but that doesn’t mean that the situations are irrelevant. [/Dan Rather]

Here’s one example:  a guy starts bonking someone not his wife, for all the usual reasons.  At first, it’s happy-happy-fun-fun times:

She was wearing just a dressing gown when I got there. She led me to her bedroom and we had sex. She clearly loved it and so did I.

But:

…she became very demanding and started expecting sex three or four times a week.
I found it difficult to keep up with her and even got Viagra-type pills off the internet.

I know:  we should all be so lucky, right? Read on:

I’ve tried to cut down seeing my lover to once a week but she says that isn’t enough.
She wants us to get together properly and drops hints that she will tell my wife what we have been doing if I attempt to back away.
It was great at first but she scares me now.

Yeah, he deserves everything that happens to him, the louse etc. etc.  But let me tell you:  something like this happened to me many years ago — not as a husband, thank gawd, but as a boyfriend with a sorta-steady girlfriend — and it was a horrible situation.

It ended badly (no details necessary) — at least in a more-or-less civilized fashion — but I should point out that this doesn’t happen every time.  More often than not, lives are ruined by shit like this.  It’s the obverse of the jilted ex-boyfriend stalking the woman and his replacement, and the really bad thing about situations like this is that they sometimes don’t end violently, but they often do.

And it’s easy to be all virtuous and self-righteous, but if I know one thing about men, it’s that we fuck up, sometimes even when we know better.

I have a theory that every man has lurking out there, at least one woman who has the power to make him lose his reason.  Some men never meet that woman, and they are the lucky ones.  Others do, and fall.  I have encountered four.  The only positive thing about getting to my age is that after while you get to recognize these dangerous women and are prepared for the thunderbolt.  And even then, you could still screw up.  There are no guarantees.  It’s a jungle, and sometimes we men are not the predators, but the prey.

As Desk Sergeant Phil Esterhaus used to say every day:  be careful out there.

I think the essential difference in perspective between men and women is whether you think the following pics (courtesy of Longtime Friend And Ex-Drummer Knob) represent yoga exercises or possible sex positions.

Just my opinion, of course.