Category Archives: kitties
An Anti-Valentine’s Day message to all the Men Going Their Own Way
Even cats are discombobulated by the evil that is Valentine's Day
Today, on this terrible so-called holiday, devoted to hearts and flowers and men giving things to ladies that are on average more expensive than the things ladies give to men, statistically speaking, I would like to relay a few words of hope to all the brave and noble Men Going Their Own Way, from our friend Spidey on MGTOWforums.com. Yes, it is true that “Valentines day is nothing more then another day where women have their egos inflated.” But remember this:
For every one of you that stays single, there is some b**** out there spending valentines day alone unable to force you to waste time and money on her
Stay strong, fellas. Resist the lure of the evil ladies and their never ending hunger for diamonds and chocolate and your precious seed.
Today, fellas, take a few moments to silently relaxate. Here, author Ronald Chevalier (who couldn’t possibly be Jemaine Clement of Flight of the Conchords) illustrates how, without threatening your seed.
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Kitty needs help! (For real.)
This is Foxie. She belongs to Noah Brand from No Seriously What About Teh Menz. Here’s the situation:
She’s got a loud purr, an extremely pettable coat, and a case of what the vet describes as “very treatable” cancer. Without treatment, the tumor in her sinus cavity will continue to slowly grow until it kills her. With treatment, she’s got plenty of life left in her.
Noah needs money to pay for the surgery. Go here for more details, and a link to a page where you can make donations.
EDITED TO ADD: Money raised! Foxie will get treatment!
Are dog bitches superior to human bitches? A misogynist dingbat says yes.
Bitch, please.
At some point, you’ve probably all heard some douchebag offer some version of the following bit of misogynist humor: You shouldn’t call a woman a bitch because that’s an insult … to female dogs!
A traditionalist Christian named Walter Allen Thompson has expanded this dumb joke into an even dumber essay. And he seems to literally believe it. As he explains in the essay, which has been posted on the Very Dumb Government blog (and which I ran across thanks to a link from our pal MarkyMark):
[W]hen some of you call a woman a “bitch” think about what you are saying. The word “bitch” means a female dog. So if you are going to use the word with its true meaning, you would actually be insulting female dogs, because the dogs have better behavior than many women. … I would never insult my dog by calling Gloria Allred a “bitch”. … I would call her a feminist but not a bitch. The feminist movement has made many of our women unseemly wenches.
Walter clearly holds a much higher opinion of his dog:
I love my bitch and I don’t want to say anything to offend her. My bitch is sweet, my bitch is lovable, my bitch is kind, my bitch is considerate, and she hardly causes me any trouble.
And, and as we all know, ladies is trouble:
A dog will give a man unconditional love; whereas, a woman may or may not keep you around depending upon the prevailing winds. I don’t have to buy my dog a food dish lined with jewels…. My dog doesn’t run up a charge account at Macy’s, and she doesn’t spend $50.00 to do her nails. My dog doesn’t take drugs, drink alcohol, or crash my brand new car.
I don’t know from dogs, but if my cat were actually capable of any of these things, she would do them. That’s part of the charm of cats. They’re tiny little monsters – selfish, self-absorbed, amoral creatures we let into our homes because they’re cute, they’re fascinating, and they’re too small to kill us. Not that mine doesn’t try.
I wouldn’t put up with that from a human being, but I put up with it from my cat because she’s a cat, and had a rough childhood (she was abandoned) and doesn’t know any better. Generally speaking, people expect different things from their pets than from their romantic partners.
Well, not this guy:
All my dog needs is a little love, attention, and her food. Overall, the quality of life with my dog has far exceeded any relationship I have had with any woman. The value of any relationship depends upon unconditional love, and that’s more evident with my dog.
“Unconditional love” sounds nice in theory, but in practice as most of us know it’s really a pretty shitty idea. If someone behaves in a way that is unlovable – attacks you, deliberately poops on the couch, starts reading A Voice for Men — you’re not obligated to keep loving them. Loyalty is, by and large, a good thing, and most of us are willing to cut those we love a lot of slack, but no one should be expected to put up with intolerable behavior in the name of unconditional love. (Also, people sometimes fall out of love. I know, shocking.)
People demand a bit more from their loved ones than dogs do, and that’s a good thing. Also, people know things that dogs don’t, and that’s also good. Hitler’s dog loved him. But then again Hitler’s dog didn’t know he was Hitler. (Hitler returned this unconditional love by having poor Blondi killed just before he killed himself.)
Of course, our boy Walter knows that most love is not unconditional. Indeed, as we saw above, he’s got a long list of conditions — some reasonable, some not — that women will have to meet before he’ll be willing to even consider them over his dog. Here are some more of his conditions, which his dog fulfills but most women (in his mind) won’t:
She doesn’t mess with my mind; doesn’t say. She doesn’t tell me she loves me today, but tomorrow she wants a divorce. My dog doesn’t pole dance at drunken parties. My dog doesn’t pick up “stud muffins” at bars. My dog doesn’t make porno films. My dog doesn’t take me to court (you lawyers..don’t get any ideas) and she doesn’t make any unreasonable demands. It is a perfect relationship as I don’t have to entertain any of her relatives. My dog is my friend and not my adversary.
It’s a pretty revealing list. He’s upset not only by infidelity, but also by women changing their mind about things – “say[ing] yes today and no tomorrow.” (Saying “no” to what? Sex? Does he think he deserves the right to rape his wife?) His idea of a “perfect relationship” seems to be one in which he doesn’t have to deal with a woman’s wants, or desires, or even her relatives.
Walter rails against feminists and feminism, but it’s clear that he also has issues with traditional women actually expecting him to fulfill his role in a traditional male-breadwinner marriage.
If you want to know where you stand with a woman, just run out of money. If you have a woman that stays with you when you’re broke or in a setback, then you have a good one.
Here’s a hint: if you don’t want a woman to expect you to provide for her, don’t marry a woman who expects you to provide for her.
Also: try not feeding your dog for several days, and see how lovable she is after that. (Given the strange literal mindedness of so many misogynists, I should add: don’t literally do that. Just imagine doing it, in your head.)
If I was ever to consider getting married again, the woman would have to (at the very least) rise to the level of the behavior of my beautiful little dog. Dogs and animals stay within the natural order in which God created; many people do not.
No, that’s ok. Stick to dogs for now.
EDITED TO ADD: As Molly Ren points out in the comments, it turns out that some dogs do pole dance. Heck, some even lick the stripper pole, like Elizabeth Berkley in Showgirls. (Well, not exactly like Elizabeth Berkley in Showgirls.)
Breaking Off-Topic News: Kitten has Groucho Marx mustache, is adorable
A lot of repugnant shit this week. So here’s a totally adorable kitten found on Reddit. (Are kitten pics and SRS the only good things about Reddit?)
And here are five more kittens for good measure, also from Reddit:
You’re welcome!
Devastating new “fly” slogan gives MRAs the edge in the war of ideas
Well, my fellow feminists, we might as well pack it in. For the forces arrayed against us have a devastating, nay brutal, new slogan.
The Counter-Feminist Agent of Change (CFAC) who calls himself Fidelbogen explained in a recent post how this “wicked new slogan” came to him. Also, what the slogan is:
This occurred to me in a flash of inspiration today. I grabbed the first scrap of paper I could find and jotted it down:
Feminism spreads lies like a fly spreads germs.
You like it? I thought you would.
So . . . spread it around, and make it part of the “buzz”!
Get it? Buzz. Like, “buzz” means “what people are excitedly talking about.” But it is also the sound that a fly makes.
See, Fidelbogen is working with TWO DIFFERENT MEANINGS at once. It’s like juggling two things at once, only with your brain. No wonder some MRAs regard his as the finest mind in the Men’s Rights movement today.
Several days after The Bogen (that’s what I like to call him) came up with this masterful slogan, one artistically minded MRA took it to a whole nother level – by using the slogan in the graphic above.
As The Bogen explained in his second post about his new slogan:
Memes can take many forms, and what you see here is among the most elemental and effective of those forms.
I am posting this graphic image for anybody on the planet who wants to fly away with it and spread it around.
First with the “buzz” thing, and now “fly away with it.” LIKE FLIES DO! The man is a genius.
Hell man, you could even print it on T-shirts and coffee mugs. Certainly you can post it on your website. Best of all, you can print it on little squares of paper and leave these in all manner of places where all manner of people will happen upon them.
Oh shit. T-shirts? Mugs? Motherfucking SQUARES OF PAPER?! He’s going CROSS-PLATFORM!
This is the sort of thing that will land in people’s brains, and buzz around there, and never leave!
I explained the buzz thing already, didn’t I?
It will find its way into the general buzz of conversation, too!
Just in case you’ve forgotten. Buzz = what people are talking about. ALSO THE SOUND FLIES MAKE.
I still cannot get over how much of a genius move that whole “buzz” thing is. I don’t know how he does it.
I kindly thank St. Estephe, the blog keeper who created this. I am honored to see my words so skillfully combined with pictures, and made ten times more effective by that method.
It’s true. It takes a tremendous amount of skill to find a picture of a fly, and then to put words next to it.
How can we possibly compete with this?
I tried to come up with some slogans of my own. But the best I could do was this:
I hope you guys have some better ideas.
Try QuickMeme if you want to make a little graphic. I’ll post any especially good ones here!
EDITED TO ADD: Some more graphics that are Fidelbogenesque in their brilliance. One from Scar, one from me.
Dubstep Cat says sorry about the lack of posts
Expect a new post tomorrow. In the meantime, here’s Dubstep Cat.
There’s an app for that! By “that” I mean “penis.” And by “app” I mean a doohickey to attach a Fleshlight to your iPad.
Maru the cat wants none of this.
Ladies, your time is up! The sexy robogals are here! Prepare for the end of feminism and the eventual elimination of all women, with the possible exception of some of the really hot ones, so long as they don’t have too many opinions of their own.
Now that I’ve got your attention I should point out that the sexy Robogals aren’t quite here yet. The not-quite-Robogals currently available, as we’ve seen, are a lot more scary than sexy.
But one dude has a much simpler and less horrifying solution: he’s invented a doohickey that will allow horny penis-having people to attach a Fleshlight to their iPads, so they can pretend to be having some sort of sexual relations with images of actual sexy ladies (or sexy anything else, for that matter) on their iPads.
Read more at The Register, which also has a photo of the doohickey at work. (Dude fucking it not pictured.) I really didn’t feel like having that picture here, hence the gif of Maru the cat with his head in a bag.
Off-topic: Blink Blink Meow
Blink Blink Meow!
Sometimes you need to take a break from adorable kitten pictures. So here are some terrifying blinking cat ladies of doom.
Oh, ok, here’s a kitten who haz a puppy, borrowed from Cute Overload’s cutest pics of 2011.
Warts and Peace: A trip into the fevered imagination of Christopher in Oregon
I am NOT illustrating this post with a picture of genital warts.
Not that long ago, the Man Going His Own Way who calls himself Marky Mark made an unnerving announcement: due to worries about his secret identity being uncovered, he was shutting down his blog!
Like a lot of Marky’s readers, I was alarmed and saddened by this news: Marky Mark, after all, was one of the most delightfully loopy MGTOW bloggers out there, as well as a regular publisher of the writings of the mysterious anti-sex crusader Christopher in Oregon.
Happily, Marky changed his mind almost instantly. He’s back, and posting like a motherfucker. And today, he graced us with one of his best posts ever: Genital Warts, by Christopher in Oregon.
Regular readers of Man Boobz know they’re in for a treat. For newcomers to the writings of Christopher in Oregon, gird your loins, and your stomach, for a truly amazing outburst of disgusting misinformation! (For actual, legitimate information on genital warts, try here or here.)
Chris opens with a bang:
The effects of an aging or weakened immune system can be profound when it comes to genital warts. They can mass in huge cauliflower like piles, and grow to gigantic proportions. Once the immune system is on the decline, all bets are off. From what I’ve heard and read, the smell from genital warts can be horrific. Poop and other filth gets trapped beneath the blossoming tops, and is impossible to clean.
Combine that with Herpes sores, and you’ve got yourself quite a mess. I can only imagine trying to treat the pain of Herpes sores that are located on massive genital warts, all the while my penis is oozing green puss.
And now I’ve got that image in my brain.
So what can one do about these horrific dangers?
If you would be clean, if you would be healthy, if you would be wise, then renounce all sexuality!
Well, that’s one solution, I guess. It seems a tad drastic. It’s true that most sexually active people will get infected with Genital HPV (Human Papillomavirus) at some point, but in most cases this infection will go away within two years, and only 5% or so will develop warts. Which won’t look anything like Chris’ nightmare scenarios above. (Holly Pervocracy has a great little post on genital warts scaremongering here.)
But Chris goes further:
I admit I was deceived in recent years, and thought I could engage in the use of pornography.
WRONG!
ALL sex leads to physical decay.
Is Chris really saying that people who masturbate to porn can give genital warts … to themselves?
Do you really want to lie in bed some day as an old men with twenty pounds of quivering warts dangling from your groin like some beast from “The Blob”? Maybe it will grow eyes and stare back at you…..?
Now Chris seems to be writing a screenplay for a David Cronenberg movie in his head.
It isn’t good enough to stay single. It isn’t good enough to not date. If a man would be strong, if a man would be wise, he must clear his mind of lust. Stop viewing porn. Stop watching ANY modern films or television shows.
STOP LISTENING TO ANY MODERN MUSIC, which seeks to enslave you with filthy lyrics and that filthy “beat”!
I listen to four to eight hours of classical music a day, sometimes more. It purifies the mind and soul.
Here is the most effective way to use classical music as a boner killer.
So, aside from a bit of the old Ludwig Van, how else can you strengthen your anti-sex resolve? Buy a bunch of medical textbooks and look at the pictures.
I remember the first time I heard about genital warts. I had gone to the Oregon State University Medical School bookstore, and bought some hideously expensive books on STDs. I was young. I was horny. But, I was still religious. I wanted to get laid. But, something was holding me back.
Regular readers of Christopher in Oregon may already have some theories as to what this might be, but let’s continue:
My parents warned me about women. They warned me about diseases, yet what did my parents know about HPV or Herpes? Nothing. Nor did I. I just knew that sex carried the risk of the STDs that were present back when my parents were young. Little did I suspect that the landscape had changed dramatically. New bugs abounded, like HIV, HPV, HSV and HCV.
So, I cracked open the books. I purchased more books. …
Then I saw them.
Warts. Big, juicy, oozing warts.
Crap. I remember the first time I looked at a picture of a homosexual man whose crotch was covered by a mass -a literal MASS- of genital warts. It looked like a Broccoli patch. Flowering all over the place. I was both mesmerized and horrified. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. My eyes were frozen to the page. The warts were just everywhere!
He was either reading medical textbooks or playing Halo:
Back to Chris:
I came to one conclusion right away: I would never engage in sexual intercourse again as long as I lived. (I had only tried it once when I was 21 with a Mormon woman)
Somehow I suspect that didn’t work out too well for her either.
Something in me triggered a defensive mechanism of sorts. (Sort of like what happens when you are out in the forest and you see 1200 pounds of angry grizzly bear barreling towards your sorry ass. You climb a tree and hope for the best)
That’s right. Mormon women are like BEARS!!
I knew I didn’t have all of the answers, but in spite of my lust and constant erections, I knew I didn’t want THAT sort of thing obscuring the view I had of my tallywacker.
Let’s just skip the bits in which Chris waxes poetic about cancer, penectomy, tongues falling off, and people “trying to yank off bloody chunks of warts” from their crotches.
The grand conclusion:
Now, I don’t know about you, but I like my body. Granted, it’s not as young as it once was. I can’t get erections as easily as I used to, and sometimes not at all. But it’s THERE. Dangling at half mast, but it’s still MINE. All mine. It’s not lying in a garbage can in the operating room waiting to be thrown out with the other medical waste.
So, think long and hard boys. Whether you are Christian, Jewish, Deist or whatever. I have come to the inescapable conclusion that there IS a God, and He does NOT wanting people perverting His system of procreation. I do believe He has a temper, as well as a slightly warped sense of humor.
The cost of sex is simply too high these days. Keep it in your pants.
That’s right, fellas: God wants you to hate and fear women and their icky bodies. He invented sex, but doesn’t want you to engage in it. He invented the penis just so he could decorate it with warts.
Is God a Diety Going His Own Way?
Clear your brain with this peppy little tune from days gone by:
The Pussy Fountainhead
If you ever use the phrase "pussy fountain," it had better refer to this.
As a regular chronicler of the Manosphere, I’m used to reading a lot of truly horrifying shit. But even by Manosphere standards, the following stood out. It’s from our good pal Ferdinand Bardamu of In Mala Fide, who felt the need to end a recent post by putting this image in my brain:
Among my friends, all of us are splashing in the pussy fountain. Some are sipping, others are gulping, but none of us are thirsty or dehydrated.
So now it’s in your brain, too!
In case you’re wondering, this came from a post in which our intrepid pussy fountain splasher argued that men
shouldn’t trust men who can’t get laid — they are opportunists who will betray you for the slimmest chance of scoring some pussy. … I wouldn’t be friends with a man who was perennially hopeless with the ladies. I might empathize with him, but I wouldn’t want to be near him. So you should live your life as well.
After reading this, I instantly developed a similar policy of my own. I don’t want to have anything to do with guys who refer to sex as “splashing in the pussy fountain.” In fact, I’d really prefer that there were no such guys.
