On a windy autumn day, Alan was walking in a secluded area, which was just a wasteland really. He would often stroll around here when he wanted to think things over. He had been walking around for about 40 minutes, had notced dusk was setting in, and turned around to embark on the short journey home. Walking with his head tilted forward and his eyes directed at the floor, Alan noticed something out the top of his vision. When he looked up he was astonished, because he saw a creature which was unlike any he had seen. Alan was seized by curiosity, but was also cautious, as the creature was fairly large. Whatever it was, this being was not primitive – it may even be a mammal; it stood upright, afterall. It was only then that Alan noticed a saucer parked 50 or so meters to his right. It dawned on Alan that he was standing face-to-face with an alien.
The alien did not appear threatening. It made a stream of noise, akin to singing but less forced and more random, that was actually quite beautiful. The alien made its way toward Alan. He retreated and the alien came to a halt. The alien walked toward him again. As Alan started to retreat once more he smelled a fragrence more beautiful than any he had ever smelled. He noticed the further he moved from the alien, the fainter the scent became. It was clearly eminating from her. Although all logic told Alan to get out of there, the beautiful fragrence had a grip on him. Not only did he stop retreating but he slowly walked toward the alien.
Standing directly in front of the alien, he could see she was actually quite beautiful, with very delicate features. It’s skin was sort of like that of a seal, except less slimey and blue rather than grey. Suddenly, he noticed a new fragrance. This one caused immense horniness. Alan said to himself “I cannot fuck an alien”, but the horniness was unbearable. Alien turned the alien over and fucked her there under the beaming moon.
Alan had trouble digesting the reality that he had fucked an alien. He saw her take off in her saucer after they had finished and now he wondered whether she would tell the other aliens on her planet that he raped her. This could cause an interplanetary war. Upon further thought, Alan discarded this notion: she didn’t seem like the type to do that.
Slowly but surely, Alan came to grips with his encounter. His worries faded and he returned to living the sort of relaxed life he had before.
5 years after the incident, Alan was sitting on the couch watching Wheel of Fortune when he said to himself “I need to take a piss”. When he pulled his dick out he noticed it was puffy. He thought “This is sure to subside”. But a week later it hadn’t so he decided to see a doctor.
A few days later he saw Dr Appleby and told him that his dick was puffy. When Dr Appleby asked him about his sexual history Alan told the doctor about the alien. Dr Appleby said he is constituted to believe that people who claim to have had sex with aliens are mentally ill. However, he knows of a doctor who takes such claims seriously. His name was Dr Slavinska and he operates out of a unused equipment storage room at the local shopping center.
Alan turned up for an appoinment he arranged with Dr Slavinska. The door to the equipment storage room can be accessed from outdoor; one needn’t enter the shopping center to get to Dr Slavinska’s office. Today was a hot day, and Alan’s dick was as puffy as ever. Dr Slavinska, a man of 50 who could pass for 46, answered the door. He said “You must be Alan”, in a thick Belorussian accent, for Dr Slavinska was from Belarus. Alan said “Yes I am” and entered the doctor’s office. Alan sat down and commented that this was a weird place for a doctor’s office. Dr Slavinsky replied that he had to resort to operating out of such a place because the “medical herd” and marginalised him for specialising in paranormal medicine, but he likes having an office here nonetheless. “What may I help you with?” asked the doctor. Alan relayed the experience he had with the alien and the puffy dick that resulted. Dr Slavinska said “May I see it, please?” Alan complied. The doctor put on rubber gloves, looked at Alan’s appendage, and said”First of all, I must say that you have a very beautiful penis” Then he put a cotton swob down the pipe of Alan’s cock. He did this so he could detect any trace of malignant pathogens, earthly or otherwise, that may account for the problem. The doctor told Alan to return in 3 weeks for the results.
Alan returned home and continued with his life as best he could.
3 weeks later he returned to the equipment storage room to hear the results. The doctor told him that microbes from his dick were almost certainly from another galaxy. Alan has suspected that he had caught this from the alien and now Dr Slavinska confirmed that “That bitch put that space shit in your cock, man”.
“How can you be sure?” asked Alan.
The doctor leaned forward, clutched a book resting on his desk, and held it up for Alan to see. “You see this book, Alan. This was written in 1881 by a group called ‘The Gateway to Cosmic Order’. The group was founded in 1879 and disbanded in 1883 for unknown reasons. The group was small and only published 2 books. The first is by all accounts a bad book, with many mistakes and misinformation. The second, however, is the most important book in paranormal medicine and perhaps medicine per se. It described the condition you have but offers little in the way of remedy. The microbes in your dick are very clingy, man. They result in gangrene of the penis, but it’s not fatal.” Alan nodded.
“Alan, please tell me: how strong is your pissing power: out of 10, how forcefully can you piss out your urine?” Alan thought about it for a moment, and then responded “Probably 6.5 out of 10″. The doctor looked disappointed, but nodded politely. He then leaned back and ran his fingers over his moustache and a slight smile appeared on his face. “Hamburgers” he said “Do you like hamburgers, Alan?” Alan stated that he did. “I have a portable barbeque at my house; I bought it in this very shopping center during my lunch break a month or two back. We could use a spatchula to flip burgers on my portable barbeque at my house on the weekend, and then we can eat the humburgers”. Alan liked this idea and accepted the invitation.
Alan arrived at Dr Slavinska’s at midday on Saturday for the barbeque. As it turned out he lived only 300 or so meters from Alan, across the park and up the hill. Alan was greeted by the doctor and taken to the backyard where the barbeque was to take place. As they were putting meat on the grill, Dr Slavinska’s wife came out holding a tray with 2 beers. “This is my wife, Roseanna”. She had much make-up on, exposed a great deal of cleavage, and wore tight pussy pants. Alan thought it odd to wear such attire, especially at midday when it would just be the 3 of them, but he wasn’t unduly bothered by it. He took his beer and sipped away, while the men continued attending to the food. 20 minutes later, Roseanna come out again, this time with a bowl of pretzels. After placing the pretzels on a tray by the barbeque, she spanked Alan’s ass and really cusped it at the point of impact. Alan’s shock was plain to see. “Alan” said Dr Slavinska “I didn’t just ask you over to have some hamburgers. I had an ulterior motive, but don’t be alarmed: my motive was in your best interest.”
“I did a lot of thinking about the intergalactic microbes in your penis. A lot of force is need to flush them out. This is why I asked you to rate your pissing power when you were in my office last. I was hoping your pissing power was such that it might drive out the microbes, but when you said your power was in the average range, it was like a dagger in my soul. Then another idea came to mind. Semen, or jizz as it is known to the layman, is a much more sticky substance than piss. It would be a better substance at flushing out the microbes than piss. Unfortunately, you cannot expel semen with the same force as urine, because of muscles and so forth. That’s when I had my idea.”
The doctor pointed at his wife, who was cleaning the sliding door but only to showcase her ass, “You see that woman, Alan? She is the best lay a man could ever have. She is fabulous masturbator. She has given my orgasms so great I thought I was going to ejaculate a testicle. Sometimes I think my nuts will die of thirst after being with her. Alan, will you fuck my wife in hopes of obtaining an orgasm so great it will shoot the microbes from your dick?” Alan, thought about it, saying finally “But don’t you mind my being with your wife?” Dr Slavinska said he believes every man is a warrior and every warrior needs an enemy. His enemy was space microbes. He would do everything in his power to prevent them from hurting humans. “That is very noble of you” replied Alan. “Go, fuck my wife, Alan. Take her to my bedroom and do whatever your want with her, but use condoms when you go in her mouth, vagina, or asshole. We don’t want her getting these space bugs. And don’t delay orgasm; this has to be fast and furious. We need a lot of force for success”.
Alan took the wife to the bedroom. He leaned against the wall, and Roseanna masturbated him like a woman possessed. Alan could see the doctor hadn’t exxagerated. She was a cock maestro. If anything he had understated her powers. Even though she had been working on him for less than 90 seconds. He felt an ecstasy well up in him. Then suddenly he shot a huge wadd which sailed past Roseanna’s ear, with such force that the wind it gave off blew her hair back, and smacked against the opposing wall. The sound it made on hitting that wall was such that you’d think a boxer was doing mitt-work in there. Alan collapsed as he had expended his entire energy resevior with such a knee-trembling orgasm. When he awoke he found he found the couple had propped him against the wall in a sitting position. They were crouched down before him and were happy to see his regaining consciousness. “Come on, Alan, have a hamburger?” said the doctor, as he put a burger before Alan’s face.
“Congratulations, Alan, the tests have come back negative” said the doctor during an appoinment a week after the barbeque, “you are free of the space disease”. Alan breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled merrily, even though he expected such news after the orgasm of a century his wife had given him. “Thank you, doctor. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” “Don’t ever worry about it. It is my pleasure.”
The doctor and Alan became good friends thereafter, and even holidayed together with Roseanna in Austria. However, he never fucked Roseanna again. The only reason it occured the first time was for medical purposes.
Alan often thought about the space bitch that gave him the disease and wondered what she was doing now. He was not scared of her return, however, because the doctor had the book from the Gateway to Cosmic Order with him and it told of how to fight this particular species of alien.
Prior to the invention of the cybernet the media had a monopoly on information dissemination, and what trickled through to the public was at its discretion. Consequently, the public was justified in being ignorant on many issues. The internet has since undermined the media’s stranglehold on information. Because multiple news sources can be accessed in an instant, the omission of an important story will be quickly recognised and the offending news network will look worse because of it.
Despite this fortunate development, “blind” spots exist. Perhaps the easiest of these for the media to explain away are stories which unravel slowly over time. One such story involves a greasy outfit named the Southern Poverty Law Center.
In speaking to the average citizen on the net, it appears the standard impression of the Southern Poverty Law Center is that of a group of selfless, idealistic legal warriors fighting on behalf of the victimised. The media has been implicit in cultivating this view. Despite the insistence of journalists that their existence is crucial because it results in a properly informed public, the media has fucked up to a colossal degree by failing to cast even a cursory look into the organisation. If I were a more cynical man I might arrive at a more cynical conclusion: that the SPLC and the media have had been in bed from the beginning.
I’ll return to the symbiotic relationship between the media and the SPLC later on, but the assholes under the spotlight here are not those in the media, but those in the SPLC. And the honcho asshole is Morris Dees.
Morris Dees, a lawyer, founded the SPLC about half way through the last century. With an insatiable appetite for riches, he sniffed out a lucrative lead in the Ku Klux Klan, whom he sued to the fuckhousen. But as with a tribe whose unrationed hunting leads to the extinction of the species that is its food source, Dees’ frenzied financial feeding meant the Klan’s account left noting to devour. His needed new prey and a new tactic, and the internet provide them to him. His new angle consisted of coaxing elderly Jews with memories of the war into believing the 13-year-old American History X buffs on Stormfront were firing up the gas ovens for a second instalment of the holocaust. In consistently ratcheting up the dread, he saw the safe door open and the grand Jewish bounty glitter before him.
To be continued…..
Person In Profile
Name: Morris Dees
Age: Old (probably dead within 50 to 70 months)
Career: CEO of SPLC empire
Habit: Poverty palace, eblogger and wordpress (looking at blogs to include “hate group” scare portfolio), step-daughter’s room
Interests: Extramarital affairs, seducing scared step-daughter with vibrator, domestic violence
If you are the sort who enjoys being outraged by hate, bigotry, and… you know….whatever, then you’re in for a treat. Prepare to contort your face into a self-righteous sneer, because I have in the jackpot in locating discriminatory villains.
The other night I was hurtling through the vast recesses of the internet when I crashed into a pocket of cyber-menstruation named ‘I HATE MEN’ (you have to google the name, for the link doesn’t work – perhaps because they don’t want others to be able to link to them). It is a site dedicated to conveying the message that men are demons with evil erections and that anything with a vagina has a halo floating over its head. As far as I could make out, it consisted of old ladies and young honeys who were dumped for better young honeys. The anger emanating from these lovely roses was astonishing. They hurt me with their insults; they punctured my soul with their words. It was obvious they sought to inflict maximum pain on me because they used the most brutal torture instrument a woman has at her disposal: her long, boring stories. Some of them even said they were converting to lebsianismz – ordinarily I’d say their chances of succeeding are close to nil, but considering they’ve managed to convince themselves that character trait differences between men and woman are mostly environmental, we shouldn’t underestimate their powers of self-delusion.
Some people might stop me at this point and say that as a white patriarchal oppressor in a heterocentric society of…you know…whatever, I’m not entitled to indulge in a victim complex like other demographics. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this recently. Since there is no biological basis for race, I’ve decided that I am black. Therefore, my victim status immediately rises 50%. And since gender is biologically meaningless I might not even by male. So it is possible I’m a black lesbian; in which case, the stench of my victimhood is as strong as that of a poverty-stricken, 3rd world girl being forced by hedge fund managers to suck the wrinkled dick of Rupert Murdoch.
Now that we have my victim credentials out of the way, and I hope you have your victim caps on at home, too, let’s look at some bile emanating from these bigots so we can get offended:
“I HATE MEN SOOO MUCH IT HURTS!” – OneWomanArmy (February 5th, 2012)
“First of all, I have always been a feminist but I never wanted to be a man-hating feminist. But I am now. I fucking hate men, they’re so selfish and stupid and think they’re entitled to the world” – connoisseur420 (posted on April 4 2012)
It will be interesting to see if they fit the definition of a hate group. Now the definition of ‘hate group’ depends on which fearmongers you listen to. I will go by the definition laid down by the civil rights tycoons at the Southern Poverty Law Center, or at least a few of the practices they associate with hate groups. Demonisation:
“I believe men are the most disgusting creature on earth” – hater1 (February 10th, 2012)
“I’m no longer attracted to men either, because they’re so digusting” – Cnote (April 9th, 2012)
“Men are perverts,they are deceivers,manipulators and the biggest liars” – Ihatemen (posted on April 2, 2012)
“Men are biologically and psychologically inferior” – Blue54 (posted on February 13th, 2012)
“ALL THEY DO IS USE WOMEN AND MAKE WOMEN FEEL LIKE SHIT .
THEY CONTROL US AND TELL US WHAT TO DO AND WE AGREE AND BELIEVE THEM THEN THEY JUST PISS OFF WITH SOME NEXT GIRL WHEN THEYVE HAD ENOUGH LEAVING US FEELING UGLY AND LIKE SHIT!!!” – sk (posted on April 2 2012)
“My name is Bleh, and I absolutely HATE men. I want to kick them all in the balls simultaneously.” – Bleh (posted on March 17th, 2012)
Based on the above, I think we would have to conclude they are indeed a hate group.
A common theme by which they seek to legitimize their manophobia over there is pornography, and they spread a lot of misinformation about it. This idea that women are somehow degraded in or by pornography is nonsense. Take the 200 man gang bang, for example. When they asked Jasmine if she enjoyed it, not only did she answer in the affirmative, but she said she’d be willing to do another 50 guys after she wipes herself down. She was even awarded a trophy by Ron Jeremy afterwards (I suspect it wasn’t real gold, but family members seeing it on her mantelpiece won’t know that). Another positive taken from the event of the event was that Houston, a fellow porn actress who was sucking off the strangers before they put their condoms on to bone Jasmine, said she was considering having a crack at Jasmine’s record. Good for her, I say. This is an example of how pornography provided a woman with an opportunity to rise to public prominence and boost her feelings of self-worth through personal achievement.
For anyone who might have the audacity to turn this around and blame the victim by claiming I hate women, you’re wrong. I love women, having a particularly strong affection for those born in the early and mid nineties. But these sort of hateful views have no place in a free, democratic society. This isn’t 1968 anymore. Shave those legs, put some make-up on, and join us in 2012, ladies.
That site again is ‘I HATE MEN’ (inverted commas omitted, of course). Google it.
A blog is typically confined to a single topic or serving a solitary purpose. Even those touching on multiple subjects usually have a fundamental theme linking their posts. This blog will depart from that tradition; it will be a mixed bag of advice, short stories (very short), personal observations, and writings that defy categorisation.
The most important posts, though not necessarily the highest in number, will focus on a disturbing new set of laws being introduced in Western nations. They go by various names, but work toward a similar end: depriving men who’ve left a relationship of their assets as formerly married men are following a divorce.
I realise there are female victims of these laws, too. But since the vast majority of the victims are male, this blog will address men. Nevertheless, women are welcome to read along and comment. Most of the advice will be as beneficial to women worried of being stolen from as it will to men.
Unfortunately, this blog will not be updated as often as I would like due to time constraints.