I hardly wrote a thing all August. I am still trying to figure out why I did that. Every time I thought about writing, I would think “Meh” and decide not to. I kept asking myself why I didn’t want to write, but my mind wouldn’t tell me. It was very hot all month. Was that it? Was I depressed? No idea. Maybe I was just blocked. Most writers, especially the better ones, get blocked sometimes. For some it’s a big burden. But lousy writers never get blocked. They scribble away. The better the writer is, the more blocked they get. Does it make sense? So what did I do? As you have probably figured out by now, I am not an ideologue. In fact, I am probably an anti-ideologue. If there’s an ideology out there, I usually want to tear through it like a rampaging elephant and smash every party line I see. That’s probably because I am scientific-minded, and most political ideologies are irrational in some way or another. Also they are always changing. In order to be a liberal nowadays you have to jump through all sorts of crazy hoops that you didn’t have to back in the 70’s and 80’s. And if you don’t get on board with all of the tested and approved continuous changes in liberal ideology, it turns out…you’re not a liberal! You’re not a Leftist! You’re not on the Left at all. You’re a conservative, a reactionary, a Republican, a fascist, a Nazi. I get called all those things constantly, always by my fellow lefties. Except I am none of those things. I am actually a Leftist. A really, really weird Leftist, but a Leftist nevertheless. It’s not enough to say, “Hey I want to go back and be a 1970’s or 1980’s liberal. I don’t want to get on board the latest liberal crazy train that left the station.” But you can’t do that. To be a 70’s or 80’s liberal nowadays is somehow to be a conservative, reactionary, Republican, fascist or Nazi. Except it isn’t of course.
Anyway, one thing I like to do, unlike most human ovines, is expose myself to new political philosophies that I’ve never dipped into before. So I am always looking around for weird new movements to analyze and check out. Lately I have checked out incels, MGTOW’s, Redpillers, and MRA’s. That’s the Manosphere. The MRA’s in particular were very interesting. I even checked out Men’s Liberation, the completely cucked, pro-feminist, hen-picked, pussy-whipped left wing of the Men’s Movement. I used to think they were ok, but I only lasted a few days on their board before they threw me out for being a “sexual predator.” Except in my world that’s a compliment. I was also told that I was a rapist and had been one my whole life and that I was only a few steps away from being the guy in the bushes with the ski mask, mace, and knife. Which is odd because I don’t believe I have ever actually really raped a female in my life. I’m talking real rape, not bullshit feminist rape. I mean you look at a feminist or ask her for her number, and you just raped her, you’re Ted Bundy, and she’s calling the police right now. Anyway, the only sane definition of rape is the one that has always been in place before lunatic feminist definition creep was, as my Mom always sternly warned me (as in “Don’t do this!”), the definition of rape was sex via force or the threat of force. I’ve never done that even once. I would also add drugging a woman like slipping her a roofie. Never done that either, thank God. And on top of that I would add sex with a passed out woman. Jesus Christ, of course I’ve never done that. I’m not a necro! Everything other than that boys, and you’re ready to rock and roll. Go forth and seduce those damsels, my brethren!
Anyway, I thought I understood feminism, but I never really did. So I have been on feminist forums (well, those that don’t immediately ban me) for most of the past month, analyzing their theories and worldviews and tossing them around objectively in my mind to see if their theories are valid or not while enduring torrential abuse for the feminists on the sites committing a crime called Being a Man. I wasn’t aware that was in the penal code. I’ve become especially interested in radical feminism, an actual branch of feminism that I had barely heard of before. So anyway, I’ve been tossing feminist theory around in my head for the past month. It’s actually a kick.
Skirt-chasing in Late Middle Age
What else have I been doing? Why, chasing women of course! Wait. Women and girls. Don’t forget the girls! I mean legal girls, like 18 and 19 year old barely legals, not the jailbaits (JB’s), although I do still talk to JB’s at times. And yes, I still date 18 and 19 year old girls sometimes. It’s almost impossible and I have to move heaven and Earth to do it, but somehow I am able to violate the laws of physics and pull off the impossible. I might add that I am 60 years old. Getting a legal teen at my age is such a ridiculous proposition that it is laughable. I mean, sure, maybe if you’re a movie director, right? I also date women in their late 20’s and early 30’s, late 40’s, and 50’s right around my age. I recently dated two 59 year old women. None of them are really better than any others. There are strong and weak points of both older, young, very young, middle aged and 30’s women. Each group has different strong and weak points. In fact, older women are actually better than younger women on a number of variables. I also chat up women in various places on the Net, and a number of them have sent me nudes. Yes, there are places on the Net where you can do this if you know what you are doing and have good Game. Actually, I get women sending me nudes on a regular basis. Most are 20-27, but two were in their 40’s. They live too far away to get with, but dirty pics are always fun, especially if you are a sick, fucked up dirty old man like me. Not only do I still get barely legal women, but JB’s still try to seduce me. I know it sounds insane. But in the past few months, two JB’s, one 14 and the 16 year old, both approached me and chatted me up for a bit. A 60 year old man. Both propositioned me, the 14 year old subtly and the 16 year old blatantly. And they both offered to send me nudes. Thank God I am strong willed, so I turned them down on all offers, though I must say it was hard to do. Most people who read that last paragraph will insist that I am lying because such things never happen to men my age. Except they actually do. Well, they happen to me anyway. But carry on if you must. Accuse me of lying. Knock yourself out. And thank you very much for the compliments, boys (in advance). Bros before ho’s!