Shitlibs are renowned for their watery-eyed, chipmunk-cheeked, effeminate, punchable faces. Why not set up a tournament-style bracket to find the most punchable, shitlib-iest face ever, as determined by reader vote? Why ask why?
(Actual shitlibs will not be duking it out ringside for advancement to the March Manlets Final Four, as much as we would all like to watch Ezra Klein take an uppercut to his dainty jawline, because actual shitlibs don’t know how to use their fists for anything besides fitting them up rectums.)
First, what crucially defines the archetypical shitlib face? It’s like obscenity; you know it when you see it. If you want a more specific accounting, I’d say it’s a combination of general effeminacy, neotenous underdevelopment, softness of mien, suppleness of cheeks and facial extremities, and all of it inflated with an expression of undeserved self-worth and haughty self-regard informed not by evident accomplishment but by bitter clinging to an ego-assuaging belief in intellectual superiority.
Plus, of course, there’s the self-serving hypocrisy, the phony sanctimony, and the insufferable proclivity to snark, which shitlib faces radiantly project like a bioluminescent mating signal to bluehair feminist fatties.
We begin.
Welcome, one and all, to the 2015 Punchable Shitlib Face Tournament to crown the winner of Most Punchable Shitlib Face in the bathhouse! The tournament is organized into four bouts, and winners will advance to the semi-finals.
First Match: Ezra Klein vs Matty Yglesias
Don’t let his moisturized skin and plush bee-stung lips fool you; Ezra’s got the heart of a slithery lizard, and he jives with the disingenuousness of an Inuit sophist. You want to knock those glasses right off him, and maybe relocate his horse choppers to the back of his throat. Backpfeifengesicht to the max!
Ah, Matty Yce. The “juveniles” who polar bear’ed him didn’t hit hard enough to remove the antiWhite smugness perched on his porcine mug. And there are those yenta glasses again, begging to fly off his nose in a slo-mo shattered glass arc to the ground, trailed by a few of his molars. Don’t worry, if you’re a black guy taking a potshot at him, he’ll never mention your race and write about you only once, in passing. If you’re White, he’ll spend years milking his victimization and pursuing a crusade against White male patriarchal privilege.
These two may be work butt buddies, and they may look equally punchable (give or take ten cheek-stuffed pounds), but only one can emerge victorious as the face that launched a thousand fists.
******
Second Match: Alex Pareene vs Dylan Matthews
You may wonder if all these shitlibs are brothers from the same mother. The morphology similarities are eerie, right down to the weak vision requiring old lady eyeglasses and the mischievous “I’m sitting on a buttplug” grin.
Dylan Matthews, another juicevoxer with plump BJ lips, zero muscle tone, the jawline of a lamprey, and those shitlib-defining glasses. Gaydar is pinging loudly, this guy is definitely a power bottom and keeps a diary of all the anal ailments he collects from Grindr hookups. He spends his free time building his collection of animal penises in jars.
******
Third Match: John Scalzi vs Pajamaboy
You know him as that guy who wears a dress, signals his antiWhite bona fides hard to echo chamber shitlibs, and thinks the term “dudebros” is clever. Now you can know him as the guy with a face made for absorbing blows.
Pajamaboy is an icon of the Butt Naked presidency. It’s hard to beat that low T combo of pajama, cocoa, hipster glasses, and oddly prepubertal face for sheer punchability. It’s such the complete package, he inspires you to want to punch more than just his face, and maybe bring your buddies in for a round of walloping.
******
Fourth Match: Devin Faraci vs Lindsey Graham
Remember this guy? He contributed to American greatness with a blog post titled “Sorry White People, Captain America is Black Now“. This lump is a huge shitlib. The biggest. So big, he earned his own shivving at the Chateau.
Would a punchable shitlib face list be complete without a gay cuckservative representative? (Practically, there is no difference between a shitlib and a cuckservative.) How the fuck Lindsey has managed to hold onto power for so long in South Carolina, one of the Shitlordiest states in the Union, is a mystery. No matter how much this Open Borders/Open Anus closet case lisps angrily about Donald “I. Don’t. Care.” Trump, his face will forever remain the visage of a man begging for a five-fingered sandwich… and prostate massage.
After this post, if your knuckles aren’t bleeding, you aren’t trying.
Comment Of The Week: A Declaration Of Cleavage
Dec 6th, 2015 by CH
The Other Anonymous is our beeg COTW wiener with a thought experiment that illuminates the purpose of female shit tests, and how men should resp0nd to them.
Nicely put. Shit tests are the female version of male ogling.
Always. Be. Escalating. (This is probably a good time to remind the more sperg-ish readers that powerpointing crimson pill knowledge and manosphere themes for a girl isn’t the quickest route to the bedroom.)
***
Otsaku Duojinshi takes the COTW runner-up prize (a set of steak knives).
Burqas are the butterface’s best friend. But fatties will find no comfort under the burqa. You can hide a dog face, but not a hog waist. Men may as well have x-ray vision, as we can easily see through the heavy cotton of a burqa to the jabba jihadette underneath.
Posted in Comment Winners | 135 Comments »