Thursday, April 20, 2017

THERE IS SOMETHING FAGGY ABOUT GYMS


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

 


This is going to be the least popular post on the blog, but it still needs to be said.   I will lose some readers, but sometimes it is good to be unpopular.  

A red-blooded man who goes to the gym may be attracted to women when he enters the door, but when he leaves the locker room, he won’t ever be completely straight again.  There is always something faggy about lifting weights.  

If you claim that you are going to the gymnasium to build-up a physique that will impress women, but end-up showering and sudsing with a bunch of nude men – then you obviously aren’t doing something very heterosexual.  If you think that reclining in a sauna with some half-naked men will somehow result in finding a new girlfriend, then you’ve got another thing coming.  

If you are doing “squats” in front of another chap, then there is something unnatural going on here.  If you are asking another man to “spot” you – then you aren’t being honest about what you have become.   If you are sitting in a puddle of some other guy’s sweat on the bench press, then the “gay” is seeping into your very being.  

If you are spending more time hanging around the gym than in your girlfriend’s bedroom, then you are only fooling yourself.  If you are looking more intently at some other guy’s muscles than at a broad’s tits, then your sexual orientation has been affected.  

If you are pumping iron, then you are simply in denial about what you find stimulating.  If you are flexing in front of a mirror, then you have pretty much lost interest in fucking the female of the species.

I got news for you.   If women avoid you when you don’t have muscles – then you are not going to be able to pick them up when you have bulging biceps, either.   But that ripped guy in the stream room … well, he might hook up with you.  

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing unsound about genuine fitness.   Think of it like this: you should consume all your nutrients from a natural diet – rather than from questionable supplements.   And, in just the same fashion, you should develop a healthy body by living a healthy lifestyle – not from degenerate exertions in a slimy gym.

I don’t care how many extra pounds your body might carry – a real man acknowledges himself as he is.  There is always something effeminate about trying to make yourself into a better person.  If you were born with a certain body type, you need to accept your genetics.  If your fate is to be chunky, then you need to resign yourself to being an endomorph.  If you are a fat slob, then you just ought to accept that fact.   No woman is going to look at you as anything else but a disgusting, distended lump of human filth no matter how much you might work-out. 

Women might not be very smart, but they sure as hell can see through you.

Thursday, March 30, 2017

SABOTAGING THE FUTURE


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

 


No matter how bad things are in my own life, there is one thought that always brings a smile to my face.   No matter how awful things are in my own life, there is one simple notion that gives me the strength to live another day.  This one basic idea gives me the determination to wake up in the morning: no matter how fucked-up is my own existence, the future will be all that much worse for the next generation.  The end times simply aren’t going to be all that enjoyable for the little ones.

The most wonderful thing about the future is that life will be sadder and sorrier no matter what.   I don’t even have to do anything.  Reserves will be depleted no matter how much the public might talk about conservation.  But I get a certain satisfaction from making things just that extra bit more unpleasant.

My ancestors did nothing for me, and I intended to return the favor.  Do-gooders will try to tell you that children come first – fuck that shit; brats belong at the back of the bus.  Every great evil begins by trying to make things better for future generations.  Every expansion of the totalitarian government is done in the name of improving the lives of children.

I absolutely hate adolescents. I simply loathe the youth.   If anyone ever deserved to suffer, it sure as hell would be a young person.  If anyone ever deserved some mishap and misfortune, it would be a dumb brat going to public school right now.

The more resources I consume in my own life, the less there will be for future generations.  God damn, that very concept makes me happy and healthy.  Next time I go Chinatown, I will be buying some contraband rhinoceros horn elixir – I don’t know exactly how the stuff is used, but I am confident that I will be doing my part to make the species extinct for the younger folk.  Damn bastards wouldn’t appreciate it anyway.

Every gallon of gas that I use up right now means that some special snowflake in the next millennium will be that much more uncomfortable.  Fuck those assholes in the future.  I will be topping off the gas tank tomorrow.  About time that these spoiled brats learned to do without.

Every ounce of water that I pollute in my lifetime will mean all that less to drink for future generations.  They can swallow my recycled piss when they get thirsty.  What comes out of a hole in my body will be the stuff that these young kids will put in their mouths (reclaimed by the appropriate bureaucracy, no doubt).

Every tree that I cut down means that some younger bastard will never be able to rest in the shade.  After what the future has done to me, an ecological catastrophe is a way of putting thing right.  Nothing is quite as oppressive as the future.  The more of the environment that I can demolish and destroy, the more that the coming generations will get what they deserve.  And I want it to be a depleted and despoiled world.

And I’ll have a grin on my face when I do all that despoiling and depleting – especially when I might finally get to enjoy my smuggled rhinoceros horn extract.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

AN HONORABLE MAN PUTS PEOPLE IN THEIR PLACE

by Mr. Mean-Spirited


Putting people in their place is the most needed act at this point in history.  Cutting people down to size is the most civic-minded deed that you can perform in modern America.  Taking a fellow citizen down a notch or two is the most Christian thing that you can do for another person.

If you want to see the heavens, sometimes you need to puncture a few balloons.  Always have something sharp at the ready if other people are blocking the sun.

People have inflated opinions of themselves – and it is your duty to show them precisely what they really are.  Let me give you an example: physicians are just tradesmen; they perform a service and they get paid for it.  Because the patients do not treat the medicine-men as the croakers they genuinely are, the practitioners have become insufferably and intolerably arrogant.  Cutting doctors down to size will not only improve customer service, but lower the price of necessary services like, well, lancing a boil.

By making someone else realize exactly what he truly is, you bring him to a point of enlightenment.  Like slapping a hysterical lunatic in the face, putting a person in his place brings him to his senses.  And that dumb bastard obviously would never have realized anything whatsoever if you hadn’t taken the trouble to bring him down in the first place.  Rebuking another person is really the truest favor that you can do for another human being.

Unless you accurately size-up the opposition, you will never understand your own personality.  Unless you shame women for being the sluts they are, you will never realize that you are just another worthless whoremonger.  Unless you know who they are, you will never know who you are.

A good churchman will tell you that you never really understand the nature of an evil spirit unless you first rebuke the demon.  In just such a fashion, you will never recognize the depths of human depravity until you first cut through all the pretentiousness of mankind.  Unless you first scrape away all the slimy posturing, you will never see the size of the worm within the human heart.