Happy fathers day motherfuckers…

I don’t have a good relationship with my father, I won’t be calling him or sending a gift…

I remember when I was a little kid watching my parents slap each other around-mutually combative, not a man kyriarchically oppressing womyn kind as every feminazi tells you how it happens…

They got divorced, which was probably a good thing…

But that just meant my mean, 2nd wave feminist mom focused her hatred of men on me…

It has given me a mistrust of women-technically speaking that makes me a misogynist. Yes, just mistrusting women makes you a misogynist, look it up in the dictionary. This mistrust has served me well…

Unlike the man-0-sphere, I don’t like the company of other men. Most men will gladly throw a lower status man under the bus (or send him off to war) for just a sniff of vagina. Look at that Elliot Rodgers piece of shit. The lame stream media focuses on the “misogyny.” But the death toll is more men dead. He had the same racist, or is that race realist views as a dickhead like Roosh and also a misandrist feminist Amanda Marcotte. Even though he was a half breed like me, he probably figured that being on the white supremacist bandwagon would give him higher status. Maybe he would’ve hit up GL Piggy and Jack Don-0-van for some gay sex had he not thrown his temper tantrum–what kind of guy drives a bimmer anyways? At the end of the day, he hated other men especially low status non white men who managed to get pussy. Just like every other garden variety male feminist and PUA out there…

Growing up I wasn’t close to other guys. I didn’t like sports. I liked video games. Then I stumbled onto thrash metal and, uh, beer… It’s funny when I heard a bunch of man-0-sphere crybabies talk about the evils of pornography. I woulda probably gotten in way less trouble if I was a teetolling wanker. I woulda been closer to being a “good man.” It would’ve hella helped my guitar playing, it woulda given me a faster right hand than James Hetfield or Dave Mustaine. And it would’ve kept me worshiping pussy… Well, unless, you consider the fact that modern porno has so much cock in it. Haha, maybe it’s a feminist conspiracy to slowly make straight men gay. I remember I made a similar joke while buzzed at one of those parties I invited myself to back in the day. Y’know the kind of parties you go to when your not of legal drinking age but you go to drink not to socialize. The joke was this, “Dude, if I was a fag, and I had room mates, I’d have a stack of Hustlers. Cause goddamnit, that shit has so much dick, but you could claim you just looked at the pussy, when you really were looking at the dick, and no one would know.” One or two of the girls laughed. One or two of the guys looked really uncomfortable-sorry for revealing your secrets man.

Yeah, I never understood that “male friendship” thing. Really the only other male I got on well with was my dog. But then my father didn’t show me the “secret handshake” to being accepted by other men. He never tossed a baseball with me. He never told me about women. Well, he told me what an evil woman my mom was, but that was it. I had to beg him to show me how to shave. He could criticize me all fucking day about how shitty my grades were or, when I was older, how little goddamned money I earned. Yep, a constant barrage about what a piece of shit I was but never a word of encouragement. He’d probably fit in well with those condescending fuckers at AVfM.

Anyways, Pops, here’s a song for ya:

4 thoughts on “Happy fathers day motherfuckers…

  1. Hey Stoner.

    Don’t worry man, I am not giving a gift to either one of my fathers. My bio dad was physically and emotionally abusive to my half sister and I when we visited him every weekend, and is a compulsive liar/narcissist. My stepfather…well, you know. The only gift that molester will ever get from me is the dance I perform on his grave someday.

    On to slightly better topics, if you don’t connect well with other guys, does that mean you only have female friends? Or are you more of a lone wolf sort? (The first one doesn’t sound like you, but I don’t know.)

    Growing up, I wasn’t taught how to be a woman, but I also wasn’t directly taught how to be “a man”. I think my mother always kinda understood I wasn’t normal…she never pushed me into learning how to put on makeup or wear heels or do my hair like she did my sisters. Instead, I was always told to go help my younger brother clean the gutters, chop the firewood, shovel the driveway, rake the yard, dig up spots for her firepit and garden, etc. Supposedly it was because I was the oldest, but it definitely made an impression on my young mind that my mom and sisters stayed inside doing house chores, but me and my brother did outdoor chores.

    As for friends, after 8th grade when everyone was pretty much hitting pubes, my female “friends” became cold and mean. Yup, every one of them. So, since then I’ve only had male friends (geeks, nerds, metalheads, and Goths. No jocks, they were the ones to avoid unless you wanted to be slammed into lockers or had your schoolbooks thrown down the hall.)

    You probably would have liked hanging with us. We watched anime, listened to music, climbed trees, played touch football and sword fighting in the yards, went to the movies, took walks where we could talk about anything, played videogames. It was spectacular…wish I could go back.

    1. Hey Tarnished,

      There’s allot of stuff there and I’d practically write a post addressing all your points…

      Looks like you had things worse with your fathers…

      There was one time where my father kept on ranting like a full on MRA from AVfM infront of my sister and I when we were little kids. This was during his visatation when we should’ve been doing something fun like watching a movie. He would go on and on for hours about how unfair the court system was and how awful it was that he had to live in poverty. You would think that if he loved his kids he would try to enjoy the little bit of time he spent with them. He wouldn’t stop and both my sister and I broke into tears. He went full on Paul Elam at this point. Yes, this was way before I ever heard about an MRA but I swear my dad must’ve talked to him at some point. It wasn’t my fault he married my mom and I thought it was extremely unfair he was trying to make me feel like a piece of shit just because he hated his situation. I reached my breaking point. I wiped off my tears and ran away from home for a good 4 or 5 hours. He really flipped out because he thought he would lose visitation rights. Years later, my mother brought up that incident and explained to me that she thought I had a good instinct for self preservation in that I will leave a situation when it becomes too painful and most people won’t. She said that’s why my personal situation wound up better than my sister’s even though we had similar circumstances growing up. –My mom is abusive in a whole different way– I dare say that yes the MRA is the abusers lobby but feminism is the abuser but pretend we are the victim lobby while bragging about all the baby fetuses we murdered. FUCK YOU Paul Elam and DOUBLE FUCK YOU David Futrelle.

      To answer your question, obviously I’m more in the lone wolf camp. But growing up I spent more time around girls and women. I didn’t have any male friends but my sister brought her friends over all the time. I remember her and her friend plotting how to eject one of their friends from their social circle and spread rumors to make everyone hate her at school. The girl being ejected, her crime was being Jewish. Writing that shit, goddamned, I feel like I’m writing about the man-0-sphere. The funny thing was that my taste of corporate America was similar to this, they call it “Strategising.” Corporate America operates just like a bunch of 12 year old girls. And even funnier (and I saw this one coming) My sister was later ousted from said social circle for being a half breed. They used her own tactics against her. I think I laughed right in her face. Since I was a pransker though, I had already gotten her friend by putting dog doo in her shoes when they were still friends and had slept over–inadvertently creating a pre-emptive win for sis-see I ain’t such a bad guy after all…

  2. My old man can’t die fast enough.

    Move on and find your bliss. Or just get some good herb and get baked.

    Whatever. Learn to live again, dude! Rock on.

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