Jack Napier got suspended from Twitter recently for saying naughty things to sensitive people apparently, but according to him, it was by design. While he has been away from Twitter, we have still stayed in touch via Discord. He sent me this wonderful link: You Don’t Need a Wife, Just a Blowjob.

Whisper, from TRP subreddit, back in 2018 penned this gem. He goes on to talk about why he has such a hard-on for TradCons. He summed it up beautifully as I see it. Especially the part about kids.

I don’t have any children (at least none that I currently know of) and I’m good with that. I came to peace with the knowledge that I don’t and won’t have children. How can I know what I’m missing out on when I have never had it? Being a father is a foreign concept to me since I have never been a father. My own father mentioned something similar to me a little while ago:

“I have no idea what it is like to be a grandfather, since I’ve never been one, so I have no idea what I’m missing out on, or not missing out on. I can’t miss what I have never had.” And this is coming from a man who just recently turned 72 years old.

I could maybe understand it if I had children and then they were taken from me in some fashion. But since I’ve never had it, telling me that “I’m missing out,” means nothing to me. You might as well be speaking to me in a foreign language.

Back to Whisper though, and his post…

They’re not offering to save society for you. They’re demanding you save it for their kids.

This one resonates the strongest for me. It’s the one that causes the most visceral reaction inside of me.

Here’s my own thoughts about it:

Fuck you and fuck your kids. My lunch is more important to me than they are.

I’m sure your precious children are your world and everything in it, but to me, they are nothing. In fact, they are worse than nothing. They are a drain on my finances via taxes. I pay those taxes like the “good, responsible citizen” that I am, but don’t think that I like doing that, because I don’t. You brought them into the world, you take care of them. But you want me to “save society” for your children? I would rather watch you and them both burn. Nothing personal.

Whisper finished his article with this sentence:

The only person with your best interests at heart is you.

Amen, hallelujah. Literally ’nuff said.

The only person with your best interests at heart is you. If Mictubis is reading this, and I’m sure he is. Pretty damn sure, he can start furiously masturbating with what I’m going to say next.

What do you want?

Keep that sentence in mind when you see men and women talking to you about “us” and “they” and “we.”

Who is “us?” (Motherfucker?)

Who is “we?” (Motherfucker?)

Who is “they?” (Motherfucker?)

The only team that I am on is Team Me. As are you. That doesn’t mean we can’t “get along” and “form alliances” and be “friends and buddies,” because we can. We can “align our current interests together for mutual benefit,” but keep in mind, I’m going to be asking you an unspoken question, as you’ll no doubt be asking me. “What’s in it for me?”

As a side note: I’ve been drinking as I have been penning this post, and something in my buzzed haze resurfaced. Something that I said to some guys in the Discord a little while ago.

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation got started, but I do remember saying that there were things that I had bit my tongue on. Things I held back on. When asked why I had held back, my answer was because I felt that the majority of guys in the Discord, and on Twitter for that matter, were not ready to hear this particular message. Some truths are better left unspoken for those that cannot or will not hear it. I would rather keep certain things quiet so that more people will benefit from the things that I do choose to say, rather than alienate them with some rather unpleasant realities.

Today is a different day for me though. Today I “woke up and chose violence.”

Here’s what I said:

“Just because I like you bro, doesn’t mean that I won’t fuck your girl given a chance, while you are mememing on the internet.“

I vaguely recall this being my answer to something about the “Bro’s before Ho’s code” or some other sort of nonsense. That’s because your “Code” isn’t mine. Oh don’t worry, I do in fact have a “Code,” and if you have been paying any sort of attention to what I have said on this blog, or in any of my videos or any of the livestreams that I have participated in, you’ll see it and hear it. I do have integrity, just not your integrity. I do have morals, just not your morals, and I’m certainly not the morality police.

To quote Dave Mustaine of Megadeth:

“Whaddya mean I ain’t kind? Just not your kind.”

Names have been altered for privacy reasons.

Rob once asked me why I have the notch count I have and in my direct way of thinking I said because I never gave up.

He stopped me for a second, as the older brother he is, and said:

“It’s because of the memories.”

I didn’t know what he meant until he explained.

“Jack, you went out there. You met new people and you faced rejection because you don’t want to lay on your deathbed and think: “if only”. You want to lie there and think back on what you did.

It hit me and I finally realized how right he was.

Even though I wouldn’t spend time with most of my exes, plates and notches wether by their choice or mine, I do like looking back every now and then and smile. Even if it’s just a little.

The places we went to. The awkwardness we both experiences. The excitement of that attraction building up to a point where we nearly devoured each other.

None of it would have happened if I didn’t went for it and wanted something to look back on when I finally bite the dust. Whenever that may be. 

In times of dry spells I might start overthinking things and tell myself I will never get laid again, am not tall, jacked, rich, good looking enough, but then I have my memories.

The stories of the times a girl would text me if I was home during her lunch break.

A girl standing outside of my window at 3 A.M. in the morning checking if I was up (I was a “nightowl” as a teenager).

The matches I had at 11 P.M. at night telling me they’d “love a fitness class from me” (I had my profession in my bio). 

The dates I had where I walked in and could see everything but her nipples because of the low cut top she was wearing.

Adler who threw me into the red pill direction, L who let me swallow the pill, Carmen who was my first Tinder lay, Caroline the former main plate who would crawl through glass to keep me happy, build ships with me and arrange threesomes. Or the ginger I fishhooked.

All of these and more are an experience and reminder that I did it at least once and can probably do it again.

But even if I am never able to pull again (which at 31 is very unlikely but for sake of argument) I have the memories and at least went out there and went for it.

The average guy is either a virgin, doesn’t know what he’s doing, settled for less or is stuck in a sexless marriage.

They will die wished they had done.

I die knowing I have.

Quick thanks to Rob for letting me guest post on his blog.