Occasionally I get linked by the kind of blog which makes my heart swell with pride. This happened recently when the self-professed polyamorous slut over at The Errant Wife linked to my post about identifying sluts and set a new land speed record for projectile menstruating an uncontrollable tizzy. Let’s see what she really thinks of yer ‘umble paladin of slutty truths:
How to tell if you are a premature ejaculating, insecure, mother-fucking cock/asshat/wannabe/loser:
1. You criticize a woman who “talks about sex first” or “ask for kinky stuff.”
What, your “masculinity” can’t handle being asked for something she likes? You don’t like a woman to be interested in sex? This seems odd, given that you like to ‘tap ass’ as you so eloquently put it. Hmmm, maybe you don’t like to be asked ’cause you don’t know how to give it to me? Just putting it out there.
[…]
5. You have a small cock.
Hate to break it to you, darling, but all that ‘cavernous cunt’ stuff you are spouting – not so much a problem with the ladies…
[…]
6. You talk about all the ass you tap, but want wife/mother material with under 3 partners.
You know, I can’t stand a man who can’t handle a girl who knows what she wants. Not to put to fine a point on it – put if you have been with THAT many women to be able to identify THAT many different kind of sluts then we have a bit of a pot/kettle situation here, motherfuckers. And really, I am going to limit myself to three or under sexual partners so I can wear your cheap ring and bear your shallow end of the gene pool dim children? Yeah, I think I’ll pass.
[…]
Let me tell you something: real women, interesting women, women with brains and women that are going places – even if these women have had the three or less sexual partners you require – they are not going to be interested in the likes of you. They want a man who sees them, who appreciates life and people and who is looking for a person and a relationship that is fulfilling for both parties, not someone who is in the market for a misogynist idea and the pretty girl that matches it.
For the record, I a woman of mind and beauty and body, a woman of education and spirit and soul – a woman who has had more than three sexual partners and has enjoyed and adored every one of them – and you are completely unworthy of a woman of my calibre.
I am utterly out of your league.
I admire her spunk (note: not a barely concealed reference to any vaginal toxic sludge). What she lacks in original thinking she makes up for with energetic verve. I bet she piston-fucks like a man.
How much do you want to bet that the guy who wrote the article would respond to that last statement with: whatever, I am sooo not interested? Like that would be an insult.
Although Miss Proudly Polyamorous Cumfunneler wisely blocked out her face, judging by the half-naked pics of herself on her blog, she looks potentially attractive. Late 30s? Body is decent. Given the evidence at hand, I’d respond: “I’d keep the conversation to a sanity-preserving minimum and fuck you all night long into the morning, then eat your leftover chinese food and leave.”
The commenters were unanimous in their love:
Some time ago I wrote something in our blog about what I called the “whiny male bitchassness” women have to put up with when they aspire to and own their sluthood, and that fucktard who wrote the post you responded to is a good example of what I was talking about.
A woman aspiring to sluthood is like a nerd aspiring to social ineptitude. Frame that accomplishment and hang it on the wall, grrl! And what does “own your sluthood” mean? Is it anything like “own your facial”? Femspeak: War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Sluttiness is courage.
On behalf of the majority of men out there I apologize for this scumbag’s post. We all do not think this way and it really does point out his insecurities.
Beta.
i guess this is probably a bad time to tell you that i’ve never wanted you more than i do right now, eh?
Supremo beta.
I read his blog for awhile and while he definitely is prone to humor and satire, actually some pretty good stuff too, the blogger in question does have an overall theme of thinking a good woman is the traditional woman myth. That their man should be their center of their universe and gives them purpose and all other good things. He suffers from a lot of ignorance.
Overall my impression was a talented writer who was a total narcissist who truly does think he knows everything from quick observations into his life where his thoughts of himself and beliefs seem to always magically get validated.
This was from a commenter named Crystal, a woman who is drawn, despite her better judgment, to my awesome vortex of masculine power and devilish charm. Crystal, did you know that narcissism is one of the “dark triad” male traits which compels women to shimmy out of their panties? You do now, sexxxysuga.
OMG I love your rant, so incredibly well said. The guy is a complete ‘fucktard’ & is obviously as intimidated as hell by women who are sexually confident and secure.
Ego-bruised female armchair psychological diagnosis #349 in a series.
I’m not sure what makes my head spin more, this fucktard or all of the comments who appear to agree with him.
Please believe me, all men are NOT like that guy!
Do betas get laid with this lame white knighting suckassery or do they get a platonic hug buddy and blue balls? Rhetorical.
And my favorite comment of all (from a man, no less):
words can’t even express how well — how perfectly — this diatribe responds to the caliber of idiot that is me. “the 16 commandments of poon” — really? “the dating market value test,” segregated arbitrarily into two versions for the two genders society perceives.
i’ve met a lot of amazing womyn in my four years of college but it’s so rare to find a powerful gem like you so far from a place like a university or community center. i could hug you!
“… the two genders society perceives.”
😆
What do you say about a man who seriously uses the word “womyn”? David Alexander’s non-date girlfriend laughs at you. “… it’s so rare to find a powerful gem like you so far from a place like a university”. Oh, my sides! The rot in academia has reached the core. Nuke the cult from orbit and start over.
A lot of the commenters shared the peculiar habit of thanking the host “for the rant”. This is something I’ve noticed is very common on femtard blogs — a shrieking chorus of yes-women and raisin-sacked beta suckups exhaling loudly with deep guttural gratitude for the host’s reaffirmation of their dearly guarded prejudices and prerogatives. It’s as if without the nourishment of a constant cliched drumbeat of “you go girl” in-group agitprop their fragile egos would pack up and leave them a shuddering mess of self-doubt and suicidal tendencies.
I was curious about the Errant Slut, so I read a few of her archived posts.
I am not sure how I am going to blatantly proposition hot class guy if he never comes to class. Seriously, I know the year is almost over – but get your butt in the chair, dude, so I can tell you to put that butt in my bed.
I actually wore mascara today in an effort to better bat my eyelashes alluringly. Pearl earrings to encourage him to give me a pearl necklace. My lucky high boots that say I will fuck you hard, bitch. This is my top game people and no one was there to appreciate it!
Motherfucker. Well, at least I hope he is…
Cross your fingers, won’t you, that I will be able to open my legs.
Slut pride is often a +5 Mask of Empowerment for the insecurities that spring from fear of aging and becoming invisible to men. Many of these sluts are true to their word and sleep around in vain hope of silencing the dread knock at the door by Father Time, but then there are those sluts whose stories are more bragaddocio than truth in advertising. If you’re looking for a no muss no fuss no wedding ring quickie, you’ll want to steer clear of the braggart sluts. By their brazen lewdness you shall know them as cockteases.
Oh sweet baby slut, I found some posts about her husband. Surprise, surprise, the whore cheats on him and gleefully recounts her sexploits in public for guys like me to wield as instruments of psychological torture.
So, where to begin? The background, as is always the case, is huge and undramatic.
Normal and profoundly unsatisfying life. Three beautiful children and a husband who pays the bills and ignores everything and anything I say to him. 10 years of marriage during which I guarantee my opinion has never mattered – I try and try to tell him what I need from the relationship, he agrees and sees my side of EVERYTHING, and yet, there are no changes.
I am talking to the wall.
Rude translation: My attraction for my sexless beta husband is gone. He never challenges me. I now have all the reason I need to rationalize sitting on a carousel of random cock.
I did not go home with him that night but instead commenced a IMing relationship with him. Dirty talk. Friendly talk. Utter Escapism. And then we met. In his apartment.
For an evening of the kind of sex that you remember. The kind of sex where you each have a sheen of sweat. Fantastic. (Fucktastic?) He tastes good. He is good in bed. AND I have no guilt. None. I have realized that I have the one life and I refuse to limit it within other people’s moral structures and I refuse also to be unhappy anymore. If my life as it stands does not make me happy then I will do what it takes to create happiness for myself.
“Not my fault. You didn’t give me what I want.” What we learn:
Women are amoral and will act according to the ethereal justification of their emotions. If she’s unhappy, it matters not how virtuous, devoted, dependable and loving the husband is to her.
All women are cheap whores by nature.
Children will not alter her calculation.
In a woman’s eyes, to be a beta male is worse than anything else. Even serial killer.
Sluts are more likely to cheat. Monogamously inclined men should beware. Players should delight.
Don’t get married!
More from the pit of woman’s soul:
Friends always says “oh, your husband is so nice” – but the reality is that nice will only take you so far.
Niceguys finish cuckolded.
I spent a lot of time in high school having sex I did not really want to have.
I had sex to create something – a feeling, a relationship, an image of myself, an attitude, a perception, an emotional space. Now when my husband wants to have sex with me – and he constantly badgers me – I feel liberated to say no. Liberated to say no in a way that I did not when I was younger.
I would get into situations where I felt bad saying no, where it was easier to say yes, where it would just seem like I might as well. But now I don’t want to have sex that I don’t want to have – and I am sorry if my husband is not happy with that – truly I am – but I am not going to force myself. Forcing myself: closing my eyes and thinking of England, spreading to keep him happy, makes me feel like a prostitute. It makes me feel dirty. Fucking my adorable younger boyfriend does not make me feel guilty, or dirty or anything other than free.
[…]
In an unsettling turn of events, I think the husband may be on to me. Mr Ashley Madison # 3 is sending me emails that are eerily familiar. It is cheesy like the husband, it has appalling spelling like the husband, and there is just something there. When I read them and the things he is saying and the questions he is asking – it is exactly what the husband would say to draw me out. I checked the profile and he also identifies as the same height and weight – although the age is different. I wonder if I am being snaked?
Stare into the abyss and breathe deeply the dank stench emanating from its womb.
The Revolution is beginning to spread to the most blighted corners of humanity, but some are incapable of salvation. They are not to be reasoned with. They are not to be cajoled. They are to be steamrolled with extreme prejudice and sadistic humor. And unlubed anal sex.
And so it begins…
[crypto-donation-box]
