Lori Alexander: Wrong Again!

In her latest article, entitled Were Old Fashioned Women Happier, our sister Lori Alexander proves that women really don’t understand men. Specifically, Sister Lori imagines a 60-year old lady to be goodlookin’. Here’s a taste:

There is an interesting article in the Daily Mail about a woman who just turned 60 years old and compared herself to her mother back when she turned 60 years old. This woman, Liz Jones, is beautiful and puts me to shame (since I just turned 60 years old) if we were measuring only by appearance. She is in perfect shape and looks amazing for her age but at what cost? (She has spent a TON of money on herself to look this way!)

So, since Sister Lori decided to compare herself with this supposedly hot granny on the Daily Fail, I decided to follow some links and find a photo. Here’s the so-called “beautiful” 60-year old…

What I see in this photo is an elderly granny with saggy dugs and pot-belly. She also sports the 1000-yard stare of a hardened prostitute, and a disgusting skank-ho tattoo.

Now let’s keep going with the “hot or not” game, and check out Lori Alexander…

Granted, she’s another old lady, but she has a warm smile, human eyes, and an attractive air of modesty about her.

Now the important part…

Number of men who are hot after Daily Fail skank-ho: 0

Number of men who are hot after Lori Alexander: 1

There is not one normal swinging dick anywhere who would touch the skank in the Daily Fail article. That is by the skank’s own admission, as she leers provocatively, and asks why, after thousands of dollars worth of plastic surgery, she can’t attract or keep a man.

Sure, she might get a bit of male attention, but only from creepy perverts with a granny fetish, or from slackers who are searching for a meal ticket. That’s the extent of that bitch’s pulling power.

In contrast, Lori Alexander has spent her life raising up a decent man’s children. To that one man, she is the hottest woman on the planet. I could send the most attractive skanks on Tinder his way, and it’s a safe bet that Mr. Alexander would laugh at their best attempts to seduce him.

Now, consider the so-called “empowered” feminist in the Daily Fail, who whines about being disrespected and laughed at constantly. Who has more power. Is it her? Or, might it be Lori Alexander?

Daily Fail skank whines about being insulted by random men, and I have no doubt it happens on a near daily basis. In contrast, go and insult Lori Alexander, and see how long you last in her neighborhood, before her husband, brothers, sons, sons-in-law, and grandsons start coming out of the woodwork to run you out of town with an ass-kicking.

Read Sister Lori’s article here, and tell her that Boxer sent you.

Boycott Hollywood

Cinema attempts to manipulate its viewers, usually by shoehorning tragic characters into heroic roles. It does this by emphasis and omission. One of the most common characters in film is the divorced father, who finds peace in the raw deal he is forced to suffer, and turns around to become an action hero. Another common character one sees in the movies is the overworked single mother, who nonetheless lovingly cares for her children, and who doesn’t hate her ex-husband, despite his cruelty, and despite his part in forcing her into an unenviable position. In repeating these stories, movie producers normalize the divorce industry. They humanize the vultures who make an easy living, feasting on the decaying carcass of society.

Nearly all divorced men, in reality, are men who have been victimized by an unfaithful woman who made their lives intolerable, before dumping them. Nearly all such men did their part, while their ex-wives took them for all they were worth. In contrast, nearly all divorced women filed for divorce, and during the divorce process, did everything they could to inflict as much harm as possible, on the men they promised to respect and obey, for as long as they lived. This is the situation as it plays out in the world, rather than on the movie screen.

Seeing Hollywood films offers the viewer a glimpse of a fantasy, which at first seems only a short way removed from his everyday reality. It offers hope to the hopeless, who would be better off working through their anger at being shafted.

When Men Cry


…aposematism, butch-dyke haircut, nose-bone, 1000-yard stare…

Someone recently linked me to an insipid article on the Good Men Project, which I won’t pass along here, about how “Men Who Cry Are Beautiful.” I followed a link from that dopey rant to a feminist site, featuring an equally stupid article entitled “How Women Feel When Men Cry.” It’s a rambling collection of wimminz fantasies – each about having her own personal bitch who cries in front of her. Here’s a taste:

This wimminz wants men to feel “empowered” to cry in front of her, while simultaneously admitting that the man who does this moves from lover to child in her mind.

Wimminz have no idea what they want, and they have no idea what makes a man good at being a man. I have some idea, and here’s a general postulate:

A competent man is the master of his own emotions.

A good man, and by this I mean a man who is good at being a man (definition thanks to Jack Donovan) is in control of himself at all times. There will be times when he will express emotions, but those times are generally limited to moments of incredible stress, or moments when he is surrounded by close and trusted friends, his tribe, as it were.

There are a few notable examples of men crying. These made an impression on me in my youth, only because I recognized, from an early age, that a crying man is an extraordinary event.

  • Elderly veterans of WWII at a reunion
  • Old farmers watching their herds get slaughtered
  • My uncle, at his own father’s funeral

I suppose it is acceptable to cry over a woman — if that woman is your mother, your grandmother, or your wife of 20 years, and if that woman is dead or dying.

Should you cry about a breakup? Maybe, but never in front of the woman who dumped you. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

This woman’s boyfriend started blubbering, and the wimminz who dumped him for Chad was able to get a huge ego boost, while moving him from the lover column to the kid column. In that instant, her boyfriend became forever-after untouchable.

He should have laughed in her face, and told her: “Cool, I’m bored of fucking you anyway…”

Had he done this, then the bitch would have second-guessed her decision. In fact, she would likely have come grovelling back to him, after Chad’s cock got boring, and then he would have had some tears to savor.

Young brothers should never cry over a bitch, because bitches are always already disloyal anyway. Don’t give them the satisfaction.

Torvalds Rolls Over


Linus Torvalds, Teaching Us How To Respond To Feminists

In the past, Linus Torvalds has been something of a beacon for the antifeminist activist. He is something of a communist (he believes that source code belongs collectively to humanity) in the Stallman tradition, and he has been outspoken about his preference for quality over ideology. He also explicitly stood up for men on several occasions, while feminists continued to chip away at the quality and stability of his work, with ridiculous false accusations.

Apparently, all that is over. Linus has caved.

We thank those who have a solid history of antifeminist action, and we admit that we do not know the full story. Even so, this doesn’t appear to be a prank.

In the past, Torvalds justified his behavior, saying back in 2015: “I’m not a nice person and I don’t care about you. Really. Seriously. I care about the technology and I care about the kernel.” Prior to that, he said, “I simply don’t believe in being polite or politically correct.”

While I loved that old Linus. The new one seems sorta unremarkable.

Generally speaking, projects and industries tend to collapse with the topheavy introduction of feminist bureaucracy. If Linux gets too repressive or too ridiculous, remember that you have other options, including FreeBSD.

Read more at PCMag and at ExtremeTech.

This Week’s v5k2c2 Resident of Note!

Let me tell y’all an inspiring story of our nigga Brandon, who met a fat slut named Ryann on the Stumble dating app.

For those of y’all who do not know, Stumble is a “feminist” dating app, which only allows skank-ho wimminz to make the first contact.

With this in mind, skank-ho princess clearly wanted to see our Brother Brandon nekkid. This is evinced by the fact that she made first-contact, subsequently begging for his schlong so annoyingly that he eventually relented, and decided to take her out.

Rather than act like a decent human being, Skanky Ryann decided to follow the feminist script, and act like a total cunt upon meeting Brandon. Let’s hear her tell it…

Props to my man for that beard and ‘stache. Let’s read on and hear about the “date from Hell.”

Riann complains:

The whole way to the bar he talked about bad dates he had.

What this means is that Riann was shaping up to be a bad date upon meeting, and our brother Brandon did her a favor, politely and patiently illustrating by analogy just how unattractive she was becoming. Bitch had zero self-awareness, so she didn’t get the lesson.

I know feminists are stupid, but Jesus Christ, does this bitch really expect us to believe that she doesn’t know why he’d do this?

Riann then whines:

He’s 38, by the way.

He’s a 38-year old brother who knows exactly what he wants. Moreover, he’s a 38-year old brother who Riann clearly wanted to stretch her pink sleeve out.

Riann continues:

…he was completely rude to our waitress… threw his menu on the floor… spoke to her in a degrading tone…

Clearly bullshit, recounted through the twisted lens of feminist ideology. Here’s a more plausible scenario:

  1. Waitress comes over, making eyes at Brandon
  2. Brandon “negs” waitress.
  3. Brandon drops menu.
  4. Waitress bends over to get menu, showing Brandon her tits and ass.
  5. Brandon “degrades” waitress by complimenting her on her ass.
  6. Waitress slips Brandon her number.

O.K.: 6 is something of a longshot, but the rest happened. I know this, because ya boy Boxer has run this script countless times, with an endless variety of waitresses, both with and without a dumb slut at the table. Waitresses are expert flirts. Their tips depend on it.

Riann reconstructed the interaction in the most negative possible way, because she’s a stupid feminist whore who can not even outcompete a cocktail server at a seedy bar.

Conclusion: preselection works.

Brother Brandon has clearly followed the rules found in this post code. Note Paragraph 41 at the Field Guide to Smashtown, hosted right here:

41. The moment a bitch pulls an attitude, the moment she is rude to the wait staff, the moment she trash-talks any family member or her ex-boyfriend, the moment she displays an attitude of entitlement, the moment she confesses to an STD or a prescription for psychiatric medication, you get up and tell the slut you have to go to the men’s room, then scoot on out the door. Leave her with the bill if possible.

As an aside, if we had any doubt that the waitress was listening quietly, while laughing inside, at Brother Brandon’s antics, those misgivings have now evaporated. My money is on his meeting her near the door, slipping her some tip money, and getting her phone number, before beating feet.

Ask me how I know he did this… It’s because I’ve done it myself, more than a few times.

You can read the rest of this entitled cunt’s whining on Twitter, here. Why she thinks our Brother Brandon had some sort of obligation to put up with her for one minute longer is an open question.

And by the way, Ryann, you are a fat bitch…

Those Wonderful Muslim Wimminz

Arab Wimminz in “Modest” and “Traditional” Attire

As we all know, the Muslims have raised up generations of feminine, submissive, patriarchal women, all of whom are waiting for a sucker winner like you to migrate to their society, convert to their faith, and sign away your life and fortune to making one of the charmers a happy girl.

Here’s an inspiring success story about marriage to a Muslim wimminz, straight from Morocco

Hardworking Muslim teacher busts ass for thirty-five years, to give his ungrateful wife a good life. He dutifully puts up with her nagging. He puts their kids through school, at great cost to himself. He listens to her snoring. He watches her pick her nose. He gets some uninspired cunt, maybe once per month. He swallows it all without complaining.

At some point, he goes to the doctor, and is told: surprise, you’re sterile!

Now the truth comes out. The bitch has been fucking and sucking random cads, the entire time. All the kids this poor chump raised up are Chad’s. So long and thanks for all the fish, cuck!

The husband filed a lawsuit against his wife at Sidi Suleiman Primary Court.

 

He filed a legal petition to have a court appointed urological and gynaecological diseases practitioner examine his case to establish paternity.

 

He then demanded his paternity be removed from their nine children and filed for divorce on charges of adultery.

 

Tests revealed that for 50 years, he had a growth in his right testes which prevented him from producing sperm.

 

The children – carrying his name – are still awaiting the court order to strip them of their legal paternal rights.

In a more just world, skank-ho wimminz who defrauded this poor schlub would be put into a work camp. Not that she can ever repay him four decades of time, effort and humiliation… just for general purposes.

Will it happen? Not a chance! He’s currently being castigated in the Arab press, for being an asshole, merely for wanting his name back. The nerve of this guy.

Remember, boys. Say “no” to the ho’.