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Honest Whores And Deceitful Church Marm’s.

Rob Says1 Comment

Welcome to the Year of Our Lord, 2024.

It’s been a minute since I’ve wrote something. When your life is going along pretty good, there’s not much to say, I guess.

Around New Year’s though, apparently a Trad broad decided to bake a cake and post it on the internet….

The whole thing blew up, probably went viral, and from what I saw and what I could remember, it pissed a lot of people off.

Some guys were pissed because she has huge boobs and was wearing a tight fitted shirt, but hey, she had her Jesus cross on. And since you couldn’t see any actual cleavage, I guess that makes a tit/cake video wholesome.

Personally for me, I like boobs. Her boobs were nice. What I didn’t like was her and her cronies shaming men for acting like men. You show me a set of tits, I’m going to stare. I might even comment on them too, it really depends on the context. What ended up happening was something that I clearly remember from my high school and college days. It was a variation of “Men are pigs! Men are disgusting! How dare you!”

Well lady, you put them out there, literally front and center. What the fuck was I supposed to look at?

Rian nailed it in the screenshot that I posted: “Everyone prefers an honest whore over a deceitful church marm.” Amen, hallelujah.

This is a huge part of why I don’t care for “TradCon Women.” You want to show off your tits and ass? I’m fine with that. Hell, I appreciate it even. But don’t get holier-than-thou on me if I look or say something. This is why 10/10 times I would rather deal with the so-called “leftist chicks.” You know, the “sex workers,” sluts, cam-girls, and the women that are generally good with their sexuality and male attention. Sure, they may only want your money and attention, but at least they aren’t going to shame you for looking at what they are putting out there.

“TradCon Women” are no different from the “304’s” that you guys love to hate, with one exception:

They’ll do the exact same shit, minus the skin, but then they’ll guilt and shame you if you look or say something. Fuck that, and fuck them. I grew up with that shit. It gets you nowhere.

Guys, is that something you want in your life? I certainly don’t. I’ve already been there and done that. Fuck that noise.

I would rather deal with a woman who will show off a massive amount of skin (all of it, preferably) and she’s good with me seeing it, and she’s even better with it when she notices me noticing her, and she can take a compliment without losing her mind over it.

I have heard a phrase lately going around in the Gay Monastery:

“Tradcon Women” are feminists. Or something to that approximation.

It’s actually accurate. Both “parties” want their boot-heel on the back of your neck. Both want you to police yourself to one degree or another. They really are two sides of the same coin. While I choose neither party, nor their boot-heels, I would choose a woman who is fine with showing skin to one degree or another, and won’t shame me about it if I happen to look. It’s even better if she can handle the compliment that I may or may not throw her way.

Everyone prefers an honest whore over a deceitful church marm.

I know I do.

Since we are now a few days into 2024, here’s another thing I’ve been doing since early December of ’23 or so:

2024 is the Year of the Block.

For the last several years, I didn’t block too many people. I didn’t want to “give them the satisfaction,” so I muted them. The problem is, those muted accounts still somehow kept creeping into my timeline on Twatter.

Now they get the block. I want my timeline to have only what I want to see.

“Rob, you’re creating an echochamber!”

No. No I’m not.

I’m fine with differing points of view. I’m fine with dissenting opinions.

I’m not fine if all you have is tactics of guilt, shame, or scolding. I’m not fine if what you say happens to sound incredibly stupid to me. I’m not fine when you try and add me to your team roster. There is no “we,” motherfucker. I only play for “Team Me.”

You want to run your mouth in my replies? You want to run your mouth in the replies of people I respect? You get the block. One and done. If you ran your mouth in a bar, like you do online, you would get your ass kicked. I have seen that happen before. Guy talking to another guy or to a woman, another guy walks up, interrupts the conversation and runs his mouth, and then gets his lights punched out for his problems.

I’m just going to assume that you haven’t learned the power of “Shut The Fuck Up.”

I have been on social media long enough to realize that whatever you or anyone else has to say isn’t going to “change my life,” or be earth-shattering. So you get the block. Scream into the void.

I have also realized that if you want to “parade my block” to your mutuals, it says far more about you than it does me. So parade away. While I will never know your name, you will never forget mine.

Why Would You Post Something Like That?

Rob Says1 Comment

“Why would you post something like that?”

“I can’t explain it, and it’s better that we not discuss it.”

Guys, if your women are asking you, “Why would you post something like that?” It’s time for you to sit up and take inventory.

I have a few people in my life, some of them are men, a couple of them are women, and if they become the “voice of sanity and reason” when I am either about to do something, or I just said something, it’s a cue for me to slow down and take stock in what I either said, or what I am about to do. These are people who are “crazier” than me. These are people who have taken bigger risks and done dumber shit than I would ever care to consider doing. When they tell me to slow down, I tend to stop and listen. They are the “canaries in the coalmine” for me.

Most guys either aren’t fortunate enough to have their own “canaries,” or they are too far gone to notice when that bird starts chirping in their ears. Even worse, they don’t see when the bird has died.

When you hang out on social media, you get “tainted” by it. It’ll warp your mind if you let it. Don’t tell me “you got this,” because you don’t. I’ve heard plenty of drug addicts and alcoholics say similar things. The only difference between you and them is that you don’t have a physical addiction. You probably don’t have a mental addiction either, but yet, your mind gets warped all the same. It’s because you can’t get off social media for any significant period of time.

When I say a significant period of time, I’m not talking about a few hours, or a couple of days. I’m talking about 4 to 6 months. Minimum. Some of you need it, or you’ll end up like the poor bastard in the screenshot. From what I gather, the guy has a wife who is asking him “Why would you post something like that?” And he decides his answer is, “I can’t explain it, and it’s better that we not discuss it.”

Sounds to me like his wife is his “canary in the coalmine.” And he can’t even see it. Maybe he doesn’t want to see it. His response is definitely not the flex that he thinks it is. In a worst case scenario, this little moment may be the “straw that broke the camel’s back.” It could be the final push towards something like divorce.

Several years ago, my ex-girlfriend decided to split. She decided to leave. Why? Ultimately, because she could. However, one of her justifications was, “Rob, you’re angry all the time. You’ve changed.” I had to pause and reflect. She wasn’t wrong. I was angry. I had changed. I wasn’t the guy that she had met four years before.

Now that doesn’t absolve her from her part in the disintegration of our relationship, but she did have a point. I can own that point.

But why was I so angry? What had changed? It was the outrage on social media. I got caught up. Instead of seeing what was in front of me with my own two eyes, I turned a blind eye and sucked down the shit on the internet. Lots of you guys are doing that. And when a friend, or your woman says, “Why would you post something like that?” Instead of taking a moment and reflecting and asking yourselves, “why indeed?” You come up with defenses and excuses. You say shit like, “I can’t explain it, and it’s better that we not discuss it.” But hey, nothing like sabotaging a significant, serious relationship in order to “pwn some anons on Twatter,” right? At least you’ll be “right,” right?

If someone asks you, “Why would you post something like that?” Maybe the problem is YOU.

When I say, “Get off the internet, go outside, and touch grass,” this is what I’m talking about. I have watched guys recently, selling their very souls for money and for “clout,” and for that dopamine hit. I’m not their “brothers keeper.” It’s not my job. They get to burn. If money, dopamine, and clout is all you want, then have at it. I can’t bother with you, you are not my problem. But I can put some distance between you and me. I can choose whether I engage with you or not. I can choose whether I meet you in real life, face-to-face, or not. Some of you, I still would. Most of you, I would not. Not anymore. I don’t have the time or patience anymore.

It’s not my job to “save you from yourself.” That’s your job.

I’m sure I’ll be writing about some of you in the future. You give me plenty of fodder and topics. But I’ll probably never meet you in real life. You made my decision easy. And for most of you, there’s always the “mute” function. It’s better that way, for me. Then I don’t have to see your stupid shit as you play dancing monkey for clout and cash.

Look at it this way though, in ten years, fifteen years, or even twenty years, you can look back at what you have accomplished. “Hey man, back in the day, I owned a bunch of random assholes and strangers on the internet. I set anon’s, guys, and women, straight.”

Lol lmao

Don’t Offload Your Guilt…

Rob Says3 Comments

Rian Stone tweeted something recently that hit home for me. Check out the screenshot.

Now, I have waxed poetic about morality and amorality in the past. I personally prefer to keep morality out of the conversation when it comes to the “Red Pill.” Why? Because I prefer to keep my own morality to myself. You can keep yours to yourself. That way, we’ll get along better in the long run, because your morality and mine are probably not going to intertwine.

And here we are. When Rian was talking about a guy “sorting out his problem,” he was specifically mentioning something about a guy who decided to cheat on his wife. All three of Rian’s “Rules” are legit if you decide to go down this path. 1. Be discreet. 2. Don’t rub your wife’s nose in it. And 3. Don’t offload your guilt with a confession, that’s selfish.

Again, for the moment, Dear Reader, leave your morality at the door.

IF you decide to “solve your problem” (your lack of sex in the bedroom) with another woman, be discreet. Be fucking quiet about it.

IF you go there, don’t rub your wife’s or your girlfriend’s nose in it. Don’t tell her about it. Don’t wave it in front of her. Honestly? She probably already knows or has a good idea of what you are up to. She’s not stupid.

And IF you do go there, DO NOT offload your guilt about it to her as a confession. It IS selfish of you.

Here’s a story about this last part…

I told you all a while back about a friend from college, Brett.

Back in the 90’s, Brett had a girlfriend that he was crazy about. So crazy that he ended up moving in with her. She was a flight attendant for a major airline, and she had fantastic breasts. She also made a ton of money. She was over the moon for Brett.

I figured that the two of them would end up getting married and having a bunch of babies and doing all the TradCon shit that you all love and know about. But…

That didn’t happen.

Brett went out one night, slipped and fell, and ended up with his dick in another woman.

How do I know this? Because he showed up at my door the next day and looked like a man who just received a death sentence.

He was wracked with guilt. He was full of remorse. He was beside himself.

I asked him what he did and he told me.

I asked him if he had told his flight attendant girlfriend. He hadn’t. Yet.

I asked him what did he think would happen if he told her. He said that it would break her heart and that she would kick him out and leave him.

I asked him if that was what he wanted. He said no, it wasn’t.

I then told him, “Then you say nothing. You live with your guilt and shame. You bury it and you never do it again. If you tell her, it’ll only hurt her, and it will only be because you want to assuage your guilt. If you love her, you’ll never mention it to her, and you’ll never do it again. That is the price for what you did.”

A few days later he showed up again, looking worse than before.

“You told her didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What did she do?”

“She broke up with me and kicked me out of her house. She said she never wants to see me again.”

“Do you feel better now that you confessed?”

“No.”

“Let that be a lesson.”

Brett and the flight attendant never spoke again. Not to this day.

I’m not advocating that you cheat.

But if you do, be discreet, don’t rub her nose in it, and don’t offload your guilt as a confession. It’s just selfish of you. If you feel guilty, that is your “cross to bear.” Don’t throw it on her to “lighten your load.” You did it, now you get to live with it. You. You get to live with it.

Maybe that’s my morality coming into play, I’m not exactly sure. But I’ve always believed that “you have made your bed, now you get to sleep in it.”

So either go there, or don’t. But if you do, you get to sleep in it as far as I’m concerned.