Hi there, I'm 6'1" white male Xtrabeing, welcome to the Fleshpots. Please don't be offended, but I like myself rather a lot. When stranger-girls shout out they want to have your baby to you, it tends to affect the ole ego a tad. 400 xwatchers come here daily and you're 1.
in this our world, and yet so hilarious to watch in action, especially pointed toward the hearts of its men-suckers who fall for everything, credulous as wide-eyed babes, yet being adults, culpable as ponzi scheme subscribers. Men fall in love, fall in love, obey, obey, dream a sort of rancid love that curdles their chest and their lives. In contrary-wise fashion, the scheming immune Women don’t particularly fall in love with their boyfriends or husbands, but they do enjoy those relationships’ existences themselves. Just don’t ask the pussy to tell you how they did it. So I will.
BTW, I love my purple icon for this Supertheme of Mind Manipulation. The eyes blinking and being fed new images is delicious. And you’re being fed new romantic images by some bitch who needs a relationship and a man, but has no genuine interest in love like you. I assure you, she’s faking it all, and she has to try desperately to stoke up the flames of affection, but deep down, you’re a dog she just wants to own and keep for herself and prevent other Women-People from taking over.
Let’s look at this reasonably. I’ll help you along the process of understanding, then I’ll explain why and how unimaginative, repulsive-toad women are able to make the superior sex actually bend to one knee in “romance” before them. But first the reasonable part.
Here’s my question: Could you really fall in love with someone you didn’t respect, and didn’t even like on any level? Does that make any sense whatsoever to you? I didn’t think so. Love is easy to imagine. You respect the other for their selfhood and maybe even their abilities and awesome approach to life . . . but wait. These are women. How’s that innate respect thing workin’ for ya? These are the women who can’t fight wars, never invented a damn thing, run away from spiders, and never started a major corporation in a real sector once. These are the women who can’t even hold your interest up in conversation. Then, when you listen to what they’re actually saying, if you can get past the barrier of their incredible drone . . . ah, “illogical” is I believe what every man on earth calls them. And you respect them, these low, these base and vile, no-mind creatures?
How about like? Liking them? Cunts? I understand you want to get that booty. We all do. But do you like who she is? How about her need for drama? Do you like that? When she mocks you in front of her friends, as I’ve seen so many times, do you like that? I saw a wife once call her husband’s private parts miniature right in front of my face, with the biggest sneer on her face. He said nothing. You like the source of that? Another time a fat old wife basically called her husband a eunuch for having stopped approaching her. She acted as if shaming him in front of me would get him to do his duty. Is that like? How about during the nagging? The controlling? The subliminal attacks? You like that? You like her taste in books and movies? You share those too? Or how about who she is at core, her real self . . . By that I mean: Is she entertaining and funny and spontaneous, or rather it it you — and does she demand you be her funtime host or dump you? Is it her life that makes yours exciting, or the inverse? And you tell me you like and respect her? C’mon. Fess up to Brother X. No man does.
Napoleon Bonaparte, whom I gave the great honor of naming my hamster after, was a Great Man. Yet he was a sap for love — and he said all women really are is breeding machines. Letter after long letter, my love this, my darling that. Then: good-for-nothing breeding machines. And it wasn’t because he was really resentful at them (though he should have been, the way the sluts treated him). It was his analytical opinion, assessment of them . . . and every man secretly or overtly agrees. They are total feminist bitches who don’t even smile.
Ever seen those big ads on walls of chicks smiling huge? Why don’t they do that in real life? It looks good and is pleasant and enhances the environment. It’s because they don’t want to give men the satisfaction and pleasure. During blowjobs, do you ever get the strong sense she always has mixed feelings about this? I do, and I’m hot as hell. You can understand male-on-female oral sex is gross, because the vagina is gross, spewing gunk and clots and blood. Chicks don’t even give their inner pussy a good firehose blasting of water to clean it up. It just settles. But even the cloned filthholes themselves, as I label them, must admit the dick is fairly clean. Don’t you like sucking dick, girls?
They don’t like to smile big. They grudgingly suck dick. They pretend to love. They’re not very likeable and their apparent IQ — brains — are about the size of a peanut. They play sports like girls, and they love seeing men fight over them. Attention whoring selfies on the net. Girl get-togethers where they spill your most intimate secrets to bond with each other and laugh over you. Incompetence. Shallowness. Emotionalism. Unearned self-love (unlike Me). Hair brushings. Make a pretty necklace! . . . Girls! How would you feel upon learning a daughter was on the way in your house?
And you love them?
Now doesn’t it all seem so much more mysterious that Mr. Xwarper has laid it out for you?
Here’s how it happens: Among other things women/mothers do, they busily implant suggestions on approved behavior in baby boy minds. Oh my! What a surprise? They abuse their position to the advantage of their own gender! Does that come as a surprise to you, male reader?
I won’t go into details how, cuz I’ve never seen it, but next: They send you into the world with a vulnerability to confusing a girlfriend with mother. That’s my best interpretations of da facts. Hapless you thinks, “Mommy wants me to love her loyally, girlfriend’s looking at me with mommy-eyes, therefore I love my wonderful girlfriend! Marriage time!”
It makes no sense, when you boil the equation down, that so many men hate women and yet spend their lives around them as if this is something worth doing. Yeah, sure — because so many straight men have had a huge bunch of those super-fun! *giggly-mocking* platonic female friends their whole lives long. *spreads hands* Look. I’m sorry to have to be the one to break it to you. You wife, your gf, your daughter too — they all, in silent unison and feminine sensible agreement, really think and act like you’re their male dog-property, there’s no real commonality between you and any female partner, and they’re just searching (lifelong) for upgraded alpha wolves — what the PUAs call charming cads — so they can turn the cads into their very own nice pet doggies. Property, eh? Warren Buffett of Omaha collected companies into his billionaire conglomerate Berkshire Hathaway: chicks aim for the mega-prize superstar actors, rockers and billionaires they adore (as future doggies and routinized-daddies) for their love-conglomerate, the only differences being Buffett has more feeling for his property than they do for theirs, and they are satisfied with just One subsidiary under their supreme chairwomanship. And if boyfriend’s a temporary cocksucker to them? That’s okay! They’re calmly self-assured they’ll get him sooner or later, just like they got poor George Clooney who swore off marriage and yet some sand nigger lawyercunt from prissy Britland got him good. That’s why the girls have no serious prob. with mean ass alphas entering their lives, because eventually they’ll always win if he sticks around long enough, wolf-to-dog conversion presto!, on account of the torture-conditioning the guy’s mom did long time ago works so well and hangs around forever, till worms do you part. Doubt it took much psych talent for the moms in that long-ago beginning, in the “safety” of the crib, but there you have it: *claps hands* It works, period. They like the relationships — they’re desperate for the relationships — but they don’t love you. Commitment from males, not caring natural affection from females of any duration or strength, is on the headlines of every Vaginal Times. Maybe 1 man in 5,000 can resist this pull. I can, and I’m extremely good-looking. But I’m alone in this big echoing room. That’s the clearest indication, that final fact, that something fishy’s going on, and that the Fat-Titted-Ones, the cloned filthholes, are fooling you. Bye-bye, and have a nice day.