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A man who murdered his pregnant wife and two daughters receives sexy pics and love notes in prison from adoring women.
From a reader,
Whatever that ding is in the brains of women…
They rock the cradle and dig the grave of civilization.
Great line. The essence of woman is to create and to destroy. To birth and to bury. To nurture and to neglect.
A smart society thwarts women’s destructive impulse while encouraging their natal instinct.
From another reader,
Was watching a clip from Goodfellas last night… where Ray Liotta beats the snot out of the guy across the street from his girlfriend, and she admits she was turned on by it. And then remembered that Ted Bundy got love letters in the pen.
Chicks dig dominant men.
The dominant man fulfills a woman’s urge to submit.
The sexual polarity is aligned.
The Fuggernaut wept.
One must give credit to the world’s newspaper of record — the Daily Mail — for printing in full so many of those love letters to a killer. They are dark portals into the soul of woman, a glimpse of her demonic id, and a front row seat to her rationalization hamster. You’ve never seen such spinning!
“their saying that your a monster and that your a POS and that your a physopath (lmao yes I know I spelled that wrong) but I’ve been telling them that their wrong and that I do not feel the way they do!!”
Verbatim. Who’s “they” telling her to stay away from a triple murderer? Her mom? Her male friends? Her female friends? Her court-ordered therapist? How many people has she told about her unrequited love affair with a killer of women and little girls?
“[I’m] someone who knows nothing about you therefore will not judge you based on your current situation.”
She’s writing a love letter to a man who’s in jail for murdering his entire family. And very misogynistically murdering them, I might add. She certainly knows that about him. Oh look, a hamster!
Let’s check out Tammy’s phyzz:
Not bad. She’s slender. Which means one bangable broad who isn’t a land whale is off the market for beta males, because her heart belongs to a man who slew an adult woman and two minor girls.
From T. Goodchild,
There are hundreds of thousands of dutiful betas who have never so much as raised their voices to a woman, all sure that if they just work a little harder, save a bit more, buy more expensive gifts . . . they’ll be able to score a girl like Bikini girl from that first photo.
Not sure whether to laugh or cry.
*surreptitiously kicks the poosy pedestal under the bed* “I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t polish a pussy pedestal.”
My point with these posts isn’t to sour men on women, or provoke so much cynicism that good men go their own way, or to suggest that men should never bond with women.
My point in exposing the dankest crannies of the female id is to remind men that the pussy pedestal is a lie, and an obstacle to true and real bonding with women. Face up to women for what they are, not the fantasy you wish them to be, and you won’t be so easily disillusioned when the fantasy inevitably breaks apart or fails to materialize. You will better appreciate women once you know what makes them tick, know their flaws and corrupt desires, and can enjoy them without anxiously dreading a moment they deviate the tiniest bit from a false narrative about their inherent goodness.