Search Results for 'the+final+plan'

[HydroParticipant]

I just recently found Dave Ramsey’s radio show in my area (California). He’s great at quickly digging through the caller’s situations to get to the crux of the issue, and then providing spot on financial advice.

Unfortunately he doesn’t really delve much into giving personal social/advice. Probably for good reason too, because he knows doing so would p~~~ off a whole lot of his blue pill audience. He’s not red pill at all.

In just a few months listening there already have been many times some guy and his girlfriend or wife call the show. They tell their story and all the steps and sacrifices they made to finally get debt free, and often tell their future plans to get married, buy a house, etc. And all I can think is you poor dumb bastard. Sometime soon down the road that bitch is going to court-rape you, and you’re going to be broke or possibly even deeper in debt than when you started associating with that bitch.

[ForeverDoneParticipant]

XSDBS wrote:

ForeverDone wrote:

Technically speaking, she did text me Saturday afternoon to hang out after she said she couldn’t on Friday, but my phone was off as I was hiking (no reception – battery would die). The issue was she said she was working on Saturday on Friday, so she couldn’t do chill on Saturday. I just said okay, maybe another time and made dinner Friday night. No biggie.
It’s on Saturday she really blew up like I did something to her. Weird. I guess it was a peek into her true personality.

“Technically speaking”? Your ego is trying to rationalize her actions.
There is no reason, no logic, no explanation. She did what she did simply because she WANTED to.

You (inadvertently) failed her continuing s~~~ tests on Saturday because your cell phone was off.
That’s why she “blew up”, and that’s a huge red flag signaling that she doesn’t want to be with you, she only wants to s~~~ test you.

Again, Why let her?

Not. It’s funny though. She finally was able to text back and say sorry, sister and her hubby were in the hospital. Is it cool if I call you later. Said okay. Never heard back.

I swear. What a waste of time. Plus, I’m out like 60 bucks.

[xanthineParticipant]

Blue Skies wrote:

xanthine wrote:

There is no place for us in the society we created…it has turned hostile and cold to us.

We are no longer valued. We are no longer wanted. I dont know about you guys, but that is something i feel every single day.

Don’t worry about how society views you. How do you view yourself? Do you live up your own expectations and goals?

I live up to my own expectations and goals. 12 years ago i had almost nothing. I worked a s~~~ty job at walmart and some fast food jobs for minimum wage. I lived with my grandma. I was a high school drop out. I had no money and very little hope for my future. I was a loser. But then one day, i decided i was going to make a change. I started making a plan, and then executing it.

Now here i am…i may not be exactly where i want to be, but every day i am getting closer. I’ve got a doctorate degree, a great career, I’m finally making some money. All i really want out of life now is to save and invest enough money to retire early. Then i wont have to stay here, i can spend the rest of my life trying to find someplace i like. I may never find it, but at least that gives me some hope. Right now, every day feels like purgatory, and the only thing that makes this day better than the last is that i am one day closer to…something else.

[WallyParticipant]

My Dad, he loved model airplanes, it gave him such joy! The last week of his life he and I were driving with my sister and I turned to him and asked him “Dad what do you enjoy most? And I don’t mean me and my sister but what do you enjoy most?” He thought for several seconds and finally said planes and in particular “a specific plane” we continued driving for several minutes. At some point a mustang almost sideswiped me and made me pull into a culdsac and right in front of us was sitting this same plane my Dad had just mentioned a few minutes before just sitting in the street, staring at us. My Dad was in tears and I and my sister were speechless, he was given a final moment of joy. It doesn’t have to be that way for you 7, you have many years left, what in your heart do want? My father loved his airplanes, the child inside of him loved airplanes as a child he loved them, what did you want to do as a child before the world told you what you had to do, shamed you to do? Probably not computer science?

"what a waste of a life, to marry, give up your freedom, just for the hope of not dying alone. Don't get married Son."

[Sky-☯️Participant]

A 9lb toy breed (Maltese) was abandoned at my house twelve years ago when his mother (gorgeous, brunette flight attendant) decided to take off and get back on the c~~~ carousel.

I looked at him the next day when he was sitting on the couch and our eyes locked on.

He knew what I knew. The slut wasn’t going to come back.

Since then, we forged a sacred bond. Two souls that would have never known each other had it not been for the narcissist that devalued & discarded both of us.

And I had no idea at the time: But I was in for the ride of my life. He became a daily component of every aspect of my life. And has been alot off responsibility but in a good way.

[Note: Gotcha on the vet bills. Luxating patella surgery $1,600 – full senior blood panels every month for the last year at $168 each (over $2,000: due to regenerative anemia) and this spring, close to $1,800 for everything leading up to his dental extractions. Putting a 14 year old dog that is in poor health under for anesthesia and bringing him back is expensive. He almost didn’t make it back. He now has twelve teeth remaining that were also cleaned when he was under. And: long haired toy breed – grooming is $90, four times a year]

And I won’t lie. During my blue pill era, he was a total clit magnet at the off leash dog park.

Regarding the vaccines you mentioned. Not sure what planet you are on, but on the one I live on, it’s three vaccines a year (rabies, bordetella, & DHLLP) My dog would have died a long time ago if he got over 20 a year.

And regarding household issues. I have not had carpet in over a decade: Had to switch to hardwood, tile and slate.

When I’m hungover as f~~~ at 6am and it is 34 degrees out in December, the playa gets to go when he wakes up. Swiffer mop pads are golden for that.

And I’ve left him at boarding places where he’s a rock star in day camp. When other dogs are bragging about their dad’s bowling and golf scores, mine just laughs and tells them his dad skydives.

He is reaching his final hours at this point and has been a true warrior right up to the end. And the ultimate sidekick.

He’s with me right now at a drop zone I’m at. We are in the rooftop tent system I had put on my Wrangler two weeks ago.

[TaxGuyParticipant]

Cú Chulainn wrote:

TaxGuy wrote:

Faust For Science wrote:

Gambit if you wish for Islam to be seen as peaceful, you need to reign in the fanatics of that religion.

For Christianity, this required several major wars over the course of hundreds of years, but this was done.

Are the Northern Irish Protestants and Catholics finally done? I think you might be giving Christians too much credit. But I know what you are saying.

With respect but I grew up with the Troubles in NI. Religion was/is only a subtext in what was/is a national identity war. This is my personal opinion.

Very few terrorists on either side were religious, or even cited it. It goes back 400 years to the plantation of Ulster by Scottish and English settlers. Catholicism was outlawed on the mainland and the native Irish were of course devout Roman Catholics. The famine affected both sides, but more Catholics died because they were far more numerous, and the British government actively stopped food reaching them. That has never been forgotten here. And it never should be. It poisoned Anglo-Irish relations, hopefully not forever.

Protestants have always had a siege mentality, with occassional atrocities commited on them, and identified with their roots across the Irish Sea. The first glimmers of modern Irish nationalism were headed by protestants like Parnell, who was Irish first and protestant second. A typically Celtic paradox.

Last century the troubles started among two communities divided by national affiliation and THEN religious differences. NI was secular like most other countries. ‘Irish’ invariably went with ‘catholic’ and ‘British’ was ‘protestant’.

Both churches actively sought and seek peace, its a big reason why my faith is strong – the troubles were sheer madness, and I have friends from both traditions, even my family is mixed. The best thing is I can have two passports, and I’m equally British and Irish and see no conflict of interest in that. Many still can’t, but I’ve long since worried about what other people think about me.

A whole generation has grown up in relative peace, and since coming home I’ve noticed huge differences in opinion, its just not as raw as it was in the dark days of the 80s. That’s hope for the future.

Thanks for the history lesson. I had to Irish Catholic friends from the US go over there in the 80’s and they said it was crazy. Being stopped at checkpoints, being watched all the time. I kind of figured it settled down over the years.

And you made my point from an earlier post: someone uses religion to divide us and get us to kill each other.

Order the good wine

[Cú ChulainnParticipant]

TaxGuy wrote:

Faust For Science wrote:

Gambit if you wish for Islam to be seen as peaceful, you need to reign in the fanatics of that religion.

For Christianity, this required several major wars over the course of hundreds of years, but this was done.

Are the Northern Irish Protestants and Catholics finally done? I think you might be giving Christians too much credit. But I know what you are saying.

With respect but I grew up with the Troubles in NI. Religion was/is only a subtext in what was/is a national identity war. This is my personal opinion.

Very few terrorists on either side were religious, or even cited it. It goes back 400 years to the plantation of Ulster by Scottish and English settlers. Catholicism was outlawed on the mainland and the native Irish were of course devout Roman Catholics. The famine affected both sides, but more Catholics died because they were far more numerous, and the British government actively stopped food reaching them. That has never been forgotten here. And it never should be. It poisoned Anglo-Irish relations, hopefully not forever.

Protestants have always had a siege mentality, with occassional atrocities commited on them, and identified with their roots across the Irish Sea. The first glimmers of modern Irish nationalism were headed by protestants like Parnell, who was Irish first and protestant second. A typically Celtic paradox.

Last century the troubles started among two communities divided by national affiliation and THEN religious differences. NI was secular like most other countries. ‘Irish’ invariably went with ‘catholic’ and ‘British’ was ‘protestant’.

Both churches actively sought and seek peace, its a big reason why my faith is strong – the troubles were sheer madness, and I have friends from both traditions, even my family is mixed. The best thing is I can have two passports, and I’m equally British and Irish and see no conflict of interest in that. Many still can’t, but I’ve long since worried about what other people think about me.

A whole generation has grown up in relative peace, and since coming home I’ve noticed huge differences in opinion, its just not as raw as it was in the dark days of the 80s. That’s hope for the future.

Women and their HIVE are now using almost ‘swarm intelligence’

Their collective behaviour is simply to help one another and to hurt men.

In my job I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to sit and listen to c~~~s talk in offices and work environments including very many lunches out.

They will gossip, plot and plan ways to play games with their boyfriends/partners/husbands.

They impart constant man hating information to each other and it NEVER STOPS.

It is a CONSTANT stream and even when they’re not together they use a smartphone which gives them a light speed connection to their hive, orbiters and chads.

I overhead my own wife’s hive actively talking about how to get rid of their boyfriends or husbands by ‘acting this way’ or ‘acting that way’, finally they just said ‘and if all else fails just go for the 911 call, it never fails’.

This was greeted with cackles of laughter that went on for an inordinate creepy amount of time.

They didn’t even seem to care I overhead them.

Seriously they’re now THAT nasty and THAT weaponized that they don’t even f~~~ing try to hide it.

I even thought, they’re just joking around here about the 911 call thing. I mean they’re laughing (cackling) about it. Thank God my wife isn’t like that, plotting to be rid of me 24/7.

Just FOUR f~~~ing weeks later.

‘THE ONE PHONE CALL’.

My life was ruined in every imaginable way and I’ll NEVER recover from the financial loss, my house and contents, bank accounts emptied for legal fees and THEFT of my precious pension.

During the destruction of my life phase they were actively cheering her on

‘you go girl’

‘Take him to the cleaners’.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STAY THE F~~~ AWAY FROM TOXIC MODERN C~~~S.

[EyeswideopenParticipant]

Thank you all for the sound advice; in particular PistolPete, OldVern, OldBill, GregBO to name a few.

I will take it to heart. If I need to vent more I will. He and I will go through his final journey together. I’ve temporarily moved back in with my parents to help – I will see where it leads and to maximize time with dad.

Dad actually got angry with me this afternoon and told me to stop treating him like a child and stop weeping as “he was not dead yet”. He did tell me that he was proud I was his son. That means so much to me.

If I ramble I apologize brothers, it’s been a horrible couple of days.

I do have one nagging question; I’m sure it’s the raw emotions of the situation. While I never want to get married again, never want to live with a women, I wonder who will be there for me when my time comes as I do not have children?

I do have nephews and nieces that are very young and I plan to be a permanent fixture in their life. I never has this fear before but it has been ever present during this time. ( I do realize having children is no guarantee that they will be present when your on deaths journey, due to timing, age, interest and relationship status).

- Marriage is described as an institution. You would have to be crazy to be commited to it. -"If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal. Not people or things" Albert Einstein

[Cú ChulainnParticipant]

PistolPete wrote:

And so it begins—FINALLY

North Korea moves warplanes into US bombers’ flight path after warning Trump they’ll shoot down any American jet they see

<iframe class=”wp-embedded-content” sandbox=”allow-scripts” security=”restricted” style=”position: absolute; clip: rect(1px, 1px, 1px, 1px);” src=”https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/4543242/white-house-blast-north-korea-us-war-declared-shoot-down-planes/embed/#?secret=mUu5F3hKRe” data-secret=”mUu5F3hKRe” width=”500″ height=”282″ title=”“North Korea moves warplanes into US bombers’ flight path after warning Trump they’ll shoot down any American jet they see” — The Sun” frameborder=”0″ marginwidth=”0″ marginheight=”0″ scrolling=”no”></iframe>

You guys are f~~~ed, look who’s flying the planes

[PistolPeteParticipant]

And so it begins—FINALLY

North Korea moves warplanes into US bombers’ flight path after warning Trump they’ll shoot down any American jet they see

[Cú ChulainnParticipant]

After the obvious: food and shelter over your head, there are myriad concerns for all men in western society.

For me, and not in any particular order –
Personal freedom, including freedom of speech.
Economic instability.
The decline of traditional families and morals due to the onslaught of feminism and globalism – the twin evils of our times.
War and terrorism.
Genetic engineering – abortions, egg freezing, designer babies and other messing with nature.
Environmental concerns.
And finally, the general drift of humanity into a state of debauchery and evil.

The world is an ugly place right now, and I have a great urge to withdraw even further from it. Being contemplative and at rest is very difficult, although moving to the coast has helped immensely for me. I am planning some retreats next year and pilgrimages, not organised but alone. I am also seriously considering a monastic vocation and these retreats will be with religious orders here in Ireland. If things go well and I think I am ready I will take up the vocation. Right now it’s just meditating on it, because it will be the biggest decision of my life.

[Ever5Participant]

Wow.

On friendships. I have noticed that I’m beginning to distant myself from my bluepill friends as well. Just not being as close because it’s hard to respect, and I would suppose, trust, a bluepill friend. It’s like they are cucks.

I had a friend of mine, really good friend, friends since before I went MGTOW. Girlfriend broke up with him. So he’s going through all those emotions. Wants to hang out all the time. I show him a lot of MGTOW stuff. He seems to get better, start gaining more sanity. Next thing you know, his ex is coming over again, and after that, they have plans to move to a new city together. Also the whole, when a woman comes into the picture, they always seem to disappear. That woman is the highest priority.

It’s the lack of self respect that bothers me. Also, yeah, can you really trust a cuck? And how hanging out with someone who is cuck, how does that influence me and my mind? I think it’s natural, if you go through a big time growing up phase, and MGTOW material will definitely create that. You start kind of outgrowing your friends. Also, values have changed. People who I used to think were wrong, now I see them as right. A change in values can also affect friendships. How can I be friends with someone who has values that I consider wrong and unhealthy. It’s like going sober and being friends with a drunk. It’s not really that feasible.

Anyway, as far as your situation. I have no idea. I read the other post, I honestly don’t know. I couldn’t be angry about it, like betrayal. I just see it more as weak behavior. And it’s hard to hang out with weak people when you are strong/sane. It was 15 years ago. I honestly don’t know bud. I will say this, it happens a lot. I know in highschool, I saw it happen more than once. Friends going out with friend’s exes behind their back, also hooking up with someone’s girlfriend who they were friends with. I think this is one reason a woman likes a man who is social and has a lot of friends. It gets her into the circle, and then she has more options than she would on her own. I can’t say this behavior isn’t normal. But even if it is normal, bluepill/cuck behavior is, can a normal man be respected?

And on bringing it up. Maybe he’s been bothered by it emotionally for a long time and just finally admitted it while drunk. Just needed to get it off his chest and couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Truth has no place to live in the mind of a woman.

[IRuleMeParticipant]

PatrickX wrote:

As things in the social world seem to get worse and worse, I decided to finally take the first step of checking out of society. I have finally deleted my facebook account. Now, I am doing other things. Since now I’m unemployed, I am looking for a job right now, something I can do without being bothered or nagged on by a boss. It’s really hard to find something in Minnesota, so I might have to suck up to annoying co-workers, or a boss for a while (hope it’s not women, because I can’t stand working with them).

In the mean time, once I accquired employment, as a minimalist, I will probably save up to move to a better state to find more prestigious jobs that pay more without having to become a debt slave to student loans (I’m debt free, I just don’t have a lot of money). It’s time to plan to leave such a feminist/libtarded/boring state. Time to man up because nobody is going to take care of me. Not even my mother; she died when I was 3. I got to do it alone.

Try to get into a trade/technical school, and if you can, do it on the State’s dime. Working a minimum wage will get you nowhere. Learn a skill. Worst case scenario, if the system breaks down, people are gonna be reliant on the skills of others. If you have no skills, you have no usefulness.

[narrow road travelerParticipant]

PatrickX wrote:

As things in the social world seem to get worse and worse, I decided to finally take the first step of checking out of society. I have finally deleted my facebook account. Now, I am doing other things. Since now I’m unemployed, I am looking for a job right now, something I can do without being bothered or nagged on by a boss. It’s really hard to find something in Minnesota, so I might have to suck up to annoying co-workers, or a boss for a while (hope it’s not women, because I can’t stand working with them).

In the mean time, once I accquired employment, as a minimalist, I will probably save up to move to a better state to find more prestigious jobs that pay more without having to become a debt slave to student loans (I’m debt free, I just don’t have a lot of money). It’s time to plan to leave such a feminist/libtarded/boring state. Time to man up because nobody is going to take care of me. Not even my mother; she died when I was 3. I got to do it alone.

Brother, Love Jesus and honor everyone sincerely.

Honor and Integrity are the most valuable actions. On this rock revolving around the sun.

Many f~~~ing sociopathic failures, men and women hate the anteceding ideas.
Observe your experiences, you’ll see.

The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. --Sun Tsu

As things in the social world seem to get worse and worse, I decided to finally take the first step of checking out of society. I have finally deleted my facebook account. Now, I am doing other things. Since now I’m unemployed, I am looking for a job right now, something I can do without being bothered or nagged on by a boss. It’s really hard to find something in Minnesota, so I might have to suck up to annoying co-workers, or a boss for a while (hope it’s not women, because I can’t stand working with them).

In the mean time, once I accquired employment, as a minimalist, I will probably save up to move to a better state to find more prestigious jobs that pay more without having to become a debt slave to student loans (I’m debt free, I just don’t have a lot of money). It’s time to plan to leave such a feminist/libtarded/boring state. Time to man up because nobody is going to take care of me. Not even my mother; she died when I was 3. I got to do it alone.

[Anonymous]

Abortion was designed by the arch-eugenicist Margaret Sanger. Margaret Sanger was with a group of people that misread “The Origin of the Species” as indicating you might have better races and not such good races and you can tell this by how much money they have.

We still use this today.

But she made the radical step to find the final solution to the problem of blacks in the U.S.. Since they were genetically different than whites, you could see it in their skin color, then wiping them out is OK.

Margaret Sanger and Hitler were good buddies and shared correspondence and agreement over racial cleansing.

Margaret put up fast and easy abortions clinics for black women in poor neighborhoods called, ironically, ‘Planned Parenthood’.

Hitler’s solution was to exterminate the Jews more quickly finding a “final solution” more rapid but more brutal than the generations long plan of Sanger.

Margaret’s brain child, planned parenthood, or planned racial cleansing of an entire race was born.

Now it is a huge organization today providing numerous abortions every year. It is political Kryptonite to any politician that try’s to touch it. It is a branch of the govt now as it is paid for by govt funds.

The repubs want to remove govt funding and they will not succeed.

323,999 abortions were performed in 2014, according to the organization

http://www.cnn.com/2015/08/04/health/planned-parenthood-by-the-numbers/index.html

The plan seems to be working.

Ok, my MGTOW bros, settle in, grab a drink, this is a long read but you have to get the full background and though it’s all completely true it is a wild ride and interesting just for that aspect; but it does end with a very serious question and I would love to hear your opinion. For reasons that will become obvious the subject of this missive, let’s call her Martine, is no longer my fiancé.

I am almost 60 y/o never married, not gay. tried it didnt like it, dont even fk women in the ass so no, though I must say tho you will never get a more enthusiastic blowjob than from a tranny! lol but once was enough to get over that phase. I didnt know it at the time but I have been somewhat MGTOW for 35 years with a few breaks for lessons in NAWALT (i am a slow learner lol).

had a beautiful gf in high school and for 3 years after, tall blonde busty slut was fun for a while, she came recommended from others she had slept with. Her family is rich and when they gave her an apartment at 21 we were still together and I moved in. six months later she “made a mistake” with her contraception and announced her pregnancy.

Unfortunately for her I had heard she had been sleeping around, fine I knew she was a slut, it was the 80s and I didn’t really care she was almost good in bed but very available.I knew I was chasing the low-hanging fruit, easy girls come with their own problems though. we had had some enjoyable threesomes with other girls she found, life seemed almost ideal there for a while.

Then I found her diary and got the full story, a star on every day she had a f~~~, me included but a lot more besides and some women too.

This in the back of my mind as she says “I’m pregnant”, I say “it’s your body” and she agreed it was too early for us just then and terminated, if it was real at all, I presume s~~~test but anyway, thank the heavens!
i could see the writing on the wall though and knew I needed an exit plan and soon or I would get stuck with most likely someone else’s kid.

She had always wanted a threesome or more with guys which I of course didn’t want but then I saw the opportunity. So I got some friends over we had lots of c~~~tails and we all f~~~ed her a few times, as one guy was banging her I left with all my stuff feigning being shocked she would do such a thing and she accepted that! perfect. she couldn’t claim any new pregnancy was mine cos I know the last time we f~~~ed was with multiple partners so I got out ok. DNA testing was way off then.
she later married a rich jew and took him to the divorce cleaners as is standard practice now.
after that I pumped and dumped till I was 30 or so and decided maybe I should try again for a long term, family raising woman. 3 x 5 year relationships all the same, NAWALT is so true. what a waste of time they are.

so at 48, successful businessman, well read, well travelled, still fit and being monk for 5 years I decided one more shot at finding a wife and this is the interesting one!

I live in a smallish suburban community on a peninsula 30km from a major city, with an idyllic beach on one side and a magnificent bay surrounded by natural bush land. I am well known here, went to school here, was an accomplished surfer,sailor, worked in television production, ran a nightclub and stayed here most of my life, though my other work had me travel a lot, more people here recognize me than I do them.
But let’s go way back to the very beginning.
My first ever girlfriend, Cindy, at 14 or so used to babysit the two kids, boy and girl. I would often visit Cindy once the parents had left for a kiss or two once the kids were sent to bed.
Once or twice the young babysitee, the girl, would get up and spy on us at our amorous machinations, never much more than kissing. Nothing but nice stuff so far but remember this part for later.
Young love foundered eventually with all the angst and histrionics only teen romance can inspire.
Cindy was a bit of a gossip and my reputation as a good kisser got around. To my great advantage.
I became a “bit of a lad” which only seemed to help my popularity. The first girl, Cindy though was naturally upset and I broke a few more hearts as I worked through the local female field.

jump to 40 years later I meet the one!

Martine is a ER doctor and PhD in mathematics, classical piano player, 4 languages and damned cute 35ish.
introduced by a friend who was sharing a house with her. My friend got into a drunken fight was bottled from behind with a full wine bottle knocking him out; then he falls face first onto concrete so he has skull damage front and back, almost died. I took care of his bills while he was in hospital, skullcap removed for his bruised brain to swell he was pretty f~~~ed. I asked Martine to decipher the doctors reports for me so I could report to friends and his family on fb etc. this time shared brought us together as friends but she had a boyfriend so I didnt push.

Celebrating his recovery of consciousness one night with a bottle of wine, Martine and I kissed and sparks flew, well for me anyway, I was entranced. Good looking, hyper-intelligent, even surfed/sailed a bit, she seemed my ideal partner and I said as much.
It was suddenly hot and heavy kissing when her boyfriend walks in unexpected and is unsurprisingly upset.
He goes all threatening and macho on me.
This infuriates Martine.
I am a large, (think rugby front rower) very confident but calm, passive fellow, hard to rile and then decisive if the SHTF, heavy set and much bigger than him. I wasn’t too phased, I could appreciate his position and began to stand up to calm down the angry guy.
Martine gets in-between us, has a long chat outside ending their relationship on the spot.

Too bad, so sad for him lol ! I am the new guy! Cool! Now however, I often wonder if the “random boyfriend visit” situation was set up that way, to elicit the result. Let’s move on.
So we have several exploratory months of near bliss, sex was a bit ordinary but I had hoped she would improve and then she asks me to move in with her. Another couple of months of getting used to being cohabitants and still Ok. We shared our more intimate details and she told me some very disturbing things from her past.
I am no genius but widely read and made TV pilots and commercials for a living. Making films makes you privy to some diverse, random subjects; you have to understand the process or whatever the films subject in great detail quickly. At this time though I am in a relatively no-brainer computer job as I wanted to semi-retire from the stressful TV rat race and develop some projects of my own on the side.
( I need an app developer! )

Let me explain that as part of my previous life I was a Video Editor. One of the many skills required is filtering hours of footage down to the required program duration to tell the story well. 100 or more hours of raw footage down to 90mins say for a documentary. I remember very diverse shots, dialogue, disparate little things that may be handy later, it’s just how my brain works after 30 years of doing the job. My brain was applying this skill to Martine’s comments and filing the interesting ones away, it’s just how I work.
So bearing that in mind these are the things she told me that I have remembered and pieced together as I would doing a film. I hope I am wrong in my conclusion but here it goes.

As a seriously asthmatic baby and small child Martine was often turning blue after severe attacks rushed to hospital by her father in a speeding car. Now this was the 1970’s and he wasn’t allowed to stay with his daughter at the hospital. Martine had obvious abandonment issues with her father because of this and developed close ties with the matron and nurses. This she says may have been the catalyst for her medical career.
Martine is very very competitive, but played very simple teenage video games even now. I got the feeling victory was very important.
Her favorite video game, Mario-cart . Why? because one toon in that game says “I’m the best” when it has won a race.
(mario cart )

Interestingly our first game of Chess, which I won, to her intense frustration, was also our last.
Similarly, when comparing best paid and most interesting jobs Martine was, I thought at the time, a little too proud of her $250 per hour plus as a Doctor and steaming furious when she heard I had once, once, been paid $5,000 for a day’s work doing a commercial.
(certainly wasn’t every day lol, I wish!)
Her favorite tune, a reggae number she played almost non-stop by Courtney Melody titled
“I’m dangerous”.
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjqqPLjpUPA )
She was beaten and hospitalized by a previous live-in boyfriend who had just renovated their flat, he then destroyed his extensive improvements to the flat, had some Police trouble and moved interstate.
She did a study in medical school, in a regional coastal city, on Aids prevention for local prostitutes.
This involved hanging out and befriending then instructing some “working girls” in health protection while they were touting for clients on their regular patch, a dark tree-lined urban street.
She described this as “the most exciting time, looking for johns with the girls”.

Martine likes some strange fetish sex, rubber, scat, golden showers and other weird stuff, I am very open-minded but this was way beyond me and I am not submissive enough to be degraded like that.

She likes an occasional surf too, another reason for my initial attraction; but strangely was busted, on the “prostitute street”, by a cop who saw her getting changed from her full-body wetsuit in her VW Kombi van she had parked there, at night. Now I really don’t care if she was a working girl for a time or she liked to keep her wetsuit on hours after dark but I found this interesting.
She convinced the cop not to lay charges. I found out directly how good she was at convincing police to let her go. Well she IS a doctor and society deems them privileged, but she used the fact to her advantage in many situations.

She also had several female-female sexual relationships during this university time. Her experimental phase away from home I surmised but intense non the less.
I don’t mind this at all, meh no biggie.

I was surprised though when at her uni friends engagement party (to a man)she revealed her prior love for her roommate in a poem she read aloud; to the gathered friends bemusement and her great embarrassment. She took her roommates decision to marry as a very personal rejection. fuming on the way home.
Graduated, she gets some travel and experience in one of those charity medical NGOs that offer service to war-torn and or poor third world countries.

One mission is a pacific island with some strange funerary habits. Seems it’s still common practice to embalm deceased relatives by long term smoking in a dedicated hut just outside the village. Several bones are removed and the shrunken result propped up at parties and ceremonies so the spirits of the relatives can share in the livings proceedings. hmmm a bit like these guys in the Amazon.
( http://www.shrunkenbodies.com/Kisrruba–and–Father.php )
During this Pacific Island stay Martine takes a village woman as lover, she brings her home on a break and introduces her to her broad-minded accepting parents.
All good, her picture is still on their fridge door today.

This young island woman, I forget her unpronounceable name and the good doctor return to the island. The woman then gets a particularly vicious breast cancer, diagnosed by the only doctor on the Island, Martine.
She dies some 3 months after the diagnosis and is embalmed traditionally in the village.
Martine with the deceased’s family attends the required ceremony some time later and sits next to the shrunken body of her ex-lover. When in Rome I guess but this was a bit sick I thought.

Another mission in war-torn Africa. Imagine a MASH unit in the middle of nowhere, dusty, temporary tent medical and surgical units at the edge of a tribal warzone with heavily armed guards at the door ready to fend off whoever. Victims of horrible machete and gunshot wounds from a nearby battle stretch the units limited supplies.
One unfortunate, presented to our subject is well beyond hope.
Triage, the practice of attending the most needy patients first, as used in all hospitals, had had a bad day.
Martine sees this case is hopeless and will take the drugs needed for others more likely to survive. She strides to the tents door asks the guard to see his handgun and quickly shoots the already doomed patient in the head at point blank range.
This made my skin crawl but hey, remote, third-world, warzone, wildly ugly stuff happens, this triggered something in me though. It was the way she wryly smiled at the reminiscence.

Martine had asked if she could check out my medical history so we could have unprotected luuuurve, how could I refuse? She could access my information easily if not quite legally and I was all clear.
Ahh the joys of condom free sex!
I would later discover she had failed to mention a severe herpes she “picked up in Africa” that spread to her spine tracing the nerve endings in her back covering one side of her body. fortunately I didn’t catch it but we abstained from sex for weeks replacing that with arguments around trust and honesty.

I learnt about deception and hypocrisy.

One night in that passionate embrace described by a number one less than seventy I was busy at pleasuring her when I noticed something odd. The only drawback to that position is the view.
There, closeup, was a very obviously damaged rectum. Afterwards I asked her why she hadn’t had it fixed.
Too embarrassed to show any other doctor she had lived with it since high school. She tells me a young, less than gentle man with a large appendage had insisted on that orifice in the name of contraception and had left his mark, permanently.
The word rape wasn’t used as she explained, but it sounded borderline at least to me.
I should describe Martine as a very petite woman, pert, slender and jockey sized, but good things in small packages so they say. She was reticent to describe him apart from saying he was one of six brothers.
This tweaked my memory.
I had been vice captain of the school and at the time described as the captain of vice. My school Captain was one of six brothers, famous in our town for their equine nether proportions.
It WAS the glorious seventies and sexual sharing, groups and such were not uncommon so I had seen his in particular in action and can attest to the family trait.
What Martine didn’t know was I knew that one of those brothers had died in her hospital. A mistake of drug choice or amount blamed on a nurse after a simple, non threatening operation. A mole removal or something similar. He died in a post operative room handily only a few meters to the emergency department.
I began to wonder if death was a bigger part of her life than she wanted to tell me. I began to observe her words and danced around the subject looking now for clues to her deeper nature. Could this tiny woman get her “revenge” decades later for a teenage impropriety? Was it rape that maybe inspired murder? Damn! I was letting my mind race to the many possible ends to this script. What’s more it was beginning to look decidedly in the favor of the worst case.

I had been raped myself, repeatedly, as a very young child and for a long time I harbored thoughts of deadly revenge on cousin Robert. I could be sympathetic to her situation but close as we were and frighteningly honest I would probably not admit to anything either.

Martine fancied herself as a interior designer and to be honest the place looked good although the position of the furniture changed with a seemingly daily tidal rhythm.
She poured over European apartment design magazines and applied what she saw there to what was becoming our place and claimed the ideas as her own. I think it was Einstein that said creativity is successfully hiding your sources of inspiration.
I am a right brained cooperative, empath, creative type but methodical she had no evidence of right brain activity but damn good at maths.
Myself being a creative type and in the film game I had to give an opinion on a short film she had made for a famous short film festival. I was stunned to see the film was shot poorly in a morgue with an actual corpse, the body on the slab with two technicians hovering over the toe-tagged deceased. It was a supposedly humorous film but the joke escaped me, as did most of the dialogue.
Not impressed I struggled to find diplomatic but encouraging words.

Now I need to explain that I see films differently to most viewers. I am trained to see the mistakes and fix them in post-production if possible. I see bad cuts, half frames and dropouts , mics in shot, reflections, continuity, colour balance and matching issues, lots you won’t see at all.
You may find it strange that I don’t go to cinemas much. Preferring to watch solo so I can speak out freely when I see these errors. The bump in the tracking shot of the main scene in Meryl Streeps “Sophies choice” for example; A huge wide shot of the train station slowly tracking in to Ms Steeps’ magnificent close-up as she decides which of her children goes to the NAZI death camp.
I couldn’t help myself saying to my then girlfriend beside me “how did they leave that bump in!”.
She, bubbling tears, looked at me shocked I could be so distracted from the narrative.
Fair point but that is my job. It may just have been a dodgy sprocket hole on the print we viewed but back to the main subject.
Martine’s job, head of a medical emergency room is constant trauma and sometimes, well quite often, death.
I asked her to tell me some stories of her day to day.

How about the 90year old patient let out to his very large italian family for a christmas party, has a wonderful day and returned in his wheelchair by a dozen well wishing family members to the hospital to continue treatment.
Our girl meets them at the entrance, apparently he is sleeping after a few wines, she pronounced him dead on arrival in front of the family there and then, no privacy no empathy in front of now very disturbed kids and adults. Chaos ensues.
As she relates this story our girl gets that wry smile again, that smile that now distresses me.
I am not that emotionally hard but I had a Veterinary step-father and holding some organ out of the way during surgery was an after school chore, better than cleaning kennels!
I only ever got ill while holding puppies having their tails docked.
I could see Martine has to be detached as well, but certainly lacking any empathetic bedside manner.

Similarly her best female friend, a charming late thirties, tall, sleek, Greek goddess with a small child and baby, meets us in the local park at the kids playground. She implores Martine to look at a new mole interrupting the smooth olive skin of her chest.
“Cancer! you may die!” our girl announces in front of the now very distressed small child and in earshot of the other mothers nearby. Just a lack of empathy? Inappropriateness?
Turned out to be nothing serious.
I think she just wanted to shock. Turns out the Greek woman has recently been accepted by a publisher for her first book, something about the Greek/Armenian atrocities. Martine has won a local writing contest with a poem, she doesn’t hide her jealousy well.
I began to think there was some mental issue hiding in my little woman.
I thought of our few but intense arguments, she is a feisty one her father had warned me.
I had left my “no brainer” job to renovate the flat under her house we lived in that had been damaged by a drunken occupant leaving his chicken roasting and falling into a stupor. Now me as “house-husband” paying the household bills was also asked of me. But no! I failed! Apparently there’s ways to pay a bill I hadn’t heard of before and our first argument ensued. Yes I had paid the electricity bill, to the centime and on time.
Seems I was incorrect to pay the full amount I should have paid more, one cent more.
Why I hear you ask ?
I inquired of the raging, yelling gnome and got this reply in essence.
“It stuffs up the big electric corporation to have a credit on an account!” ohh kaaay, sure it does.

I tried explaining the rounding up process for the few cents difference to a further tirade,
“so make it a dollar! ”
To be honest I would do anything she asked if she asked before the action, I can take direction!
Just like to see the script before I act.
so I learnt about “gaslighting”
then something happened that blew me away, I went to her parents house for dinner. I went into shock.
It was the house I used to visit my first gf as she was babysitting! Martine was really the babysitee I mentioned earlier! I would discover later many names, variations of spelling mixing surnames and assumed names on incoming mail to “our” place. she had tax-dodging properties in many names.
Now I should mention I had a great relationship with her parents. He had had a mild stroke, could walk a little and still liked a beer and watch the football at the local club. I was happy to help with that.
The Mother was the librarian at the local high school Martine and I had both attended albeit years apart. Her Dad had built many houses in the area and made considerably more than his geography professorship paid. Time had increased the price of the family house into the millions, well the land anyway, the house was quite unusual and on a very steep block but had magnificent views.
Once we had taken the old man out on his yacht which had been lying idle since his stroke. Martine wheeled him down to the boat in a wheelbarrow more usually full of sails and I helped him onboard, set sail and off we went for a lovely sail on the sunny bay.
Well that lasted 10mins and Martine was suddenly bored and very cross with her dad for no apparent reason. I resisted the temptation to push her overboard, yes it was that bad!
I suggested tea might be good and she disappeared into the cabin. After 20mins I handed steering to the old man and went to see how she was going with the beverages. To my surprise and horror she was using an old pump action kerosene stove to boil the water, fuel fumes filled the cabin; it was spilled all over the tabletop, floor, the stove and looking decidedly dangerous.
Another argument, its fine she says, no worries. Pretty casual for such a threatening situation. I wondered about intentional arson.
The flat under her house I worked on also had a deliberately dangerous aspect or two. The shower a basic affair was directly below the electric oven upstairs. Powerful 30amp cable hanging loose right next to the shower head! o conduit, damaged it was potentially instant death.

Finally after several other incidents one caught me mildly, rusty nail pierced my foot quite deeply and she injected me with a tetanus shot. It was at that moment I realised I did not trust her. was that really a tetanus shot? i slept for nearly 24 hrs, I think now it was insulin. I was diagnosed with diabetes a little later.
Martine in my presence also offered old ladies in particular a doubling of their pension in return for a lein on the sale of their houses for repayment post mortem several accepted this offer.
She started treating her own father who I now understood she hated with a passion. He died after another stroke 5 months later making her a very rich woman. FYI an ER doctor is not allowed to do this only a general practitioner or specialist can prescribe but she could get any drug she wanted from the ER.
There were many medical books in the house and one day while she was away I discovered the DSM manual which describes all the various mental illnesses and their indicators. I studied it furiously looking for some correlation to my observations; only one really covered her as I knew her and that was NPD narcissistic personality disorder, my first experience of the term.
the symptoms fit like a glove. I resigned myself to observing her more intently and see if I could confirm my amateur diagnosis.
Around this time I had been encouraged to seek some help for my own lingering abuse problems and I brought this NPD up to my female psych who dismissed it outright. more on female anti-male bias in the health service in some later post but describing repeatedly the vilest parts of your life to a stranger is no easy task. it didn’t seem to help, quite the opposite.
try medication they said ok I tried. anti depressants don’t kick in for a few weeks so I diligently took my pills and waited for some change.
Martine would have one glass of red wine with dinner leaving me to finish the bottle. after a week or two I was getting seriously phased and had emotional outbursts like I have never before. mentally I went downhill fast and was like stoned all the time but with huge emotional sensitivity. I cried a lot was very very depressed and getting worse. I couldn’t understand it at all and was getting seriously confused daily.
then I saw her behind me one night via a window reflection put some pills in our wine, she had poured hers first, hmmmm.
I sensed a very real danger to my life and decided to pack up there and then.
gone! she put an AVO (apprehended violence order)

on me that day

! have never been violent with any non-aggressor ever! mad c~~~.
took me six weeks to regain true lucidity again. god knows what pills she was feeding me.

OK i know she was a madder c~~~ than normal, probably a psycho killer but it was the final straw for me.
And that my brothers is my story I have been a monk since and burned enough not to try again and concentrating on fun and business to fund it.
I have to say that AWALT is incorrect they ARE all like that.
MGTOW is the best way of life in this feminist f~~~ery we have.
stay safe my Bros
and i really do need an app maker! promise its a winning idea.

[BrucetheVikingParticipant]

Ok, my MGTOW bros, settle in, grab a drink, this is a long read but you have to get the full background and though it’s all completely true it is a wild ride and interesting just for that aspect; but it does end with a very serious question and I would love to hear your opinion. For reasons that will become obvious the subject of this missive, let’s call her Martine, is no longer my fiancé.

I am almost 60 y/o never married, not gay. tried it didnt like it, dont even fk women in the ass so no, though I must say tho you will never get a more enthusiastic blowjob than from a tranny! lol but once was enough to get over that phase. I didnt know it at the time but I have been somewhat MGTOW for 35 years with a few breaks for lessons in NAWALT (i am a slow learner lol).

had a beautiful gf in high school and for 3 years after, tall blonde busty slut was fun for a while, she came recommended from others she had slept with. Her family is rich and when they gave her an apartment at 21 we were still together and I moved in. six months later she “made a mistake” with her contraception and announced her pregnancy.

Unfortunately for her I had heard she had been sleeping around, fine I knew she was a slut, it was the 80s and I didn’t really care she was almost good in bed but very available.I knew I was chasing the low-hanging fruit, easy girls come with their own problems though. we had had some enjoyable threesomes with other girls she found, life seemed almost ideal there for a while.

Then I found her diary and got the full story, a star on every day she had a f~~~, me included but a lot more besides and some women too.

This in the back of my mind as she says “I’m pregnant”, I say “it’s your body” and she agreed it was too early for us just then and terminated, if it was real at all, I presume s~~~test but anyway, thank the heavens!
i could see the writing on the wall though and knew I needed an exit plan and soon or I would get stuck with most likely someone else’s kid.

She had always wanted a threesome or more with guys which I of course didn’t want but then I saw the opportunity. So I got some friends over we had lots of c~~~tails and we all f~~~ed her a few times, as one guy was banging her I left with all my stuff feigning being shocked she would do such a thing and she accepted that! perfect. she couldn’t claim any new pregnancy was mine cos I know the last time we f~~~ed was with multiple partners so I got out ok. DNA testing was way off then.
she later married a rich jew and took him to the divorce cleaners as is standard practice now.
after that I pumped and dumped till I was 30 or so and decided maybe I should try again for a long term, family raising woman. 3 x 5 year relationships all the same, NAWALT is so true. what a waste of time they are.

so at 48, successful businessman, well read, well travelled, still fit and being monk for 5 years I decided one more shot at finding a wife and this is the interesting one!

I live in a smallish suburban community on a peninsula 30km from a major city, with an idyllic beach on one side and a magnificent bay surrounded by natural bush land. I am well known here, went to school here, was an accomplished surfer,sailor, worked in television production, ran a nightclub and stayed here most of my life, though my other work had me travel a lot, more people here recognize me than I do them.
But let’s go way back to the very beginning.
My first ever girlfriend, Cindy, at 14 or so used to babysit the two kids, boy and girl. I would often visit Cindy once the parents had left for a kiss or two once the kids were sent to bed.
Once or twice the young babysitee, the girl, would get up and spy on us at our amorous machinations, never much more than kissing. Nothing but nice stuff so far but remember this part for later.
Young love foundered eventually with all the angst and histrionics only teen romance can inspire.
Cindy was a bit of a gossip and my reputation as a good kisser got around. To my great advantage.
I became a “bit of a lad” which only seemed to help my popularity. The first girl, Cindy though was naturally upset and I broke a few more hearts as I worked through the local female field.

jump to 40 years later I meet the one!

Martine is a ER doctor and PhD in mathematics, classical piano player, 4 languages and damned cute 35ish.
introduced by a friend who was sharing a house with her. My friend got into a drunken fight was bottled from behind with a full wine bottle knocking him out; then he falls face first onto concrete so he has skull damage front and back, almost died. I took care of his bills while he was in hospital, skullcap removed for his bruised brain to swell he was pretty f~~~ed. I asked Martine to decipher the doctors reports for me so I could report to friends and his family on fb etc. this time shared brought us together as friends but she had a boyfriend so I didnt push.

Celebrating his recovery of consciousness one night with a bottle of wine, Martine and I kissed and sparks flew, well for me anyway, I was entranced. Good looking, hyper-intelligent, even surfed/sailed a bit, she seemed my ideal partner and I said as much.
It was suddenly hot and heavy kissing when her boyfriend walks in unexpected and is unsurprisingly upset.
He goes all threatening and macho on me.
This infuriates Martine.
I am a large, (think rugby front rower) very confident but calm, passive fellow, hard to rile and then decisive if the SHTF, heavy set and much bigger than him. I wasn’t too phased, I could appreciate his position and began to stand up to calm down the angry guy.
Martine gets in-between us, has a long chat outside ending their relationship on the spot.

Too bad, so sad for him lol ! I am the new guy! Cool! Now however, I often wonder if the “random boyfriend visit” situation was set up that way, to elicit the result. Let’s move on.
So we have several exploratory months of near bliss, sex was a bit ordinary but I had hoped she would improve and then she asks me to move in with her. Another couple of months of getting used to being cohabitants and still Ok. We shared our more intimate details and she told me some very disturbing things from her past.
I am no genius but widely read and made TV pilots and commercials for a living. Making films makes you privy to some diverse, random subjects; you have to understand the process or whatever the films subject in great detail quickly. At this time though I am in a relatively no-brainer computer job as I wanted to semi-retire from the stressful TV rat race and develop some projects of my own on the side.
( I need an app developer! )

Let me explain that as part of my previous life I was a Video Editor. One of the many skills required is filtering hours of footage down to the required program duration to tell the story well. 100 or more hours of raw footage down to 90mins say for a documentary. I remember very diverse shots, dialogue, disparate little things that may be handy later, it’s just how my brain works after 30 years of doing the job. My brain was applying this skill to Martine’s comments and filing the interesting ones away, it’s just how I work.
So bearing that in mind these are the things she told me that I have remembered and pieced together as I would doing a film. I hope I am wrong in my conclusion but here it goes.

As a seriously asthmatic baby and small child Martine was often turning blue after severe attacks rushed to hospital by her father in a speeding car. Now this was the 1970’s and he wasn’t allowed to stay with his daughter at the hospital. Martine had obvious abandonment issues with her father because of this and developed close ties with the matron and nurses. This she says may have been the catalyst for her medical career.
Martine is very very competitive, but played very simple teenage video games even now. I got the feeling victory was very important.
Her favorite video game, Mario-cart . Why? because one toon in that game says “I’m the best” when it has won a race.
(mario cart )

Interestingly our first game of Chess, which I won, to her intense frustration, was also our last.
Similarly, when comparing best paid and most interesting jobs Martine was, I thought at the time, a little too proud of her $250 per hour plus as a Doctor and steaming furious when she heard I had once, once, been paid $5,000 for a day’s work doing a commercial.
(certainly wasn’t every day lol, I wish!)
Her favorite tune, a reggae number she played almost non-stop by Courtney Melody titled
“I’m dangerous”.
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjqqPLjpUPA )
She was beaten and hospitalized by a previous live-in boyfriend who had just renovated their flat, he then destroyed his extensive improvements to the flat, had some Police trouble and moved interstate.
She did a study in medical school, in a regional coastal city, on Aids prevention for local prostitutes.
This involved hanging out and befriending then instructing some “working girls” in health protection while they were touting for clients on their regular patch, a dark tree-lined urban street.
She described this as “the most exciting time, looking for johns with the girls”.

Martine likes some strange fetish sex, rubber, scat, golden showers and other weird stuff, I am very open-minded but this was way beyond me and I am not submissive enough to be degraded like that.

She likes an occasional surf too, another reason for my initial attraction; but strangely was busted, on the “prostitute street”, by a cop who saw her getting changed from her full-body wetsuit in her VW Kombi van she had parked there, at night. Now I really don’t care if she was a working girl for a time or she liked to keep her wetsuit on hours after dark but I found this interesting.
She convinced the cop not to lay charges. I found out directly how good she was at convincing police to let her go. Well she IS a doctor and society deems them privileged, but she used the fact to her advantage in many situations.

She also had several female-female sexual relationships during this university time. Her experimental phase away from home I surmised but intense non the less.
I don’t mind this at all, meh no biggie.

I was surprised though when at her uni friends engagement party (to a man)she revealed her prior love for her roommate in a poem she read aloud; to the gathered friends bemusement and her great embarrassment. She took her roommates decision to marry as a very personal rejection. fuming on the way home.
Graduated, she gets some travel and experience in one of those charity medical NGOs that offer service to war-torn and or poor third world countries.

One mission is a pacific island with some strange funerary habits. Seems it’s still common practice to embalm deceased relatives by long term smoking in a dedicated hut just outside the village. Several bones are removed and the shrunken result propped up at parties and ceremonies so the spirits of the relatives can share in the livings proceedings. hmmm a bit like these guys in the Amazon.
( http://www.shrunkenbodies.com/Kisrruba–and–Father.php )
During this Pacific Island stay Martine takes a village woman as lover, she brings her home on a break and introduces her to her broad-minded accepting parents.
All good, her picture is still on their fridge door today.

This young island woman, I forget her unpronounceable name and the good doctor return to the island. The woman then gets a particularly vicious breast cancer, diagnosed by the only doctor on the Island, Martine.
She dies some 3 months after the diagnosis and is embalmed traditionally in the village.
Martine with the deceased’s family attends the required ceremony some time later and sits next to the shrunken body of her ex-lover. When in Rome I guess but this was a bit sick I thought.

Another mission in war-torn Africa. Imagine a MASH unit in the middle of nowhere, dusty, temporary tent medical and surgical units at the edge of a tribal warzone with heavily armed guards at the door ready to fend off whoever. Victims of horrible machete and gunshot wounds from a nearby battle stretch the units limited supplies.
One unfortunate, presented to our subject is well beyond hope.
Triage, the practice of attending the most needy patients first, as used in all hospitals, had had a bad day.
Martine sees this case is hopeless and will take the drugs needed for others more likely to survive. She strides to the tents door asks the guard to see his handgun and quickly shoots the already doomed patient in the head at point blank range.
This made my skin crawl but hey, remote, third-world, warzone, wildly ugly stuff happens, this triggered something in me though. It was the way she wryly smiled at the reminiscence.

Martine had asked if she could check out my medical history so we could have unprotected luuuurve, how could I refuse? She could access my information easily if not quite legally and I was all clear.
Ahh the joys of condom free sex!
I would later discover she had failed to mention a severe herpes she “picked up in Africa” that spread to her spine tracing the nerve endings in her back covering one side of her body. fortunately I didn’t catch it but we abstained from sex for weeks replacing that with arguments around trust and honesty.

I learnt about deception and hypocrisy.

One night in that passionate embrace described by a number one less than seventy I was busy at pleasuring her when I noticed something odd. The only drawback to that position is the view.
There, closeup, was a very obviously damaged rectum. Afterwards I asked her why she hadn’t had it fixed.
Too embarrassed to show any other doctor she had lived with it since high school. She tells me a young, less than gentle man with a large appendage had insisted on that orifice in the name of contraception and had left his mark, permanently.
The word rape wasn’t used as she explained, but it sounded borderline at least to me.
I should describe Martine as a very petite woman, pert, slender and jockey sized, but good things in small packages so they say. She was reticent to describe him apart from saying he was one of six brothers.
This tweaked my memory.
I had been vice captain of the school and at the time described as the captain of vice. My school Captain was one of six brothers, famous in our town for their equine nether proportions.
It WAS the glorious seventies and sexual sharing, groups and such were not uncommon so I had seen his in particular in action and can attest to the family trait.
What Martine didn’t know was I knew that one of those brothers had died in her hospital. A mistake of drug choice or amount blamed on a nurse after a simple, non threatening operation. A mole removal or something similar. He died in a post operative room handily only a few meters to the emergency department.
I began to wonder if death was a bigger part of her life than she wanted to tell me. I began to observe her words and danced around the subject looking now for clues to her deeper nature. Could this tiny woman get her “revenge” decades later for a teenage impropriety? Was it rape that maybe inspired murder? Damn! I was letting my mind race to the many possible ends to this script. What’s more it was beginning to look decidedly in the favor of the worst case.

I had been raped myself, repeatedly, as a very young child and for a long time I harbored thoughts of deadly revenge on cousin Robert. I could be sympathetic to her situation but close as we were and frighteningly honest I would probably not admit to anything either.

Martine fancied herself as a interior designer and to be honest the place looked good although the position of the furniture changed with a seemingly daily tidal rhythm.
She poured over European apartment design magazines and applied what she saw there to what was becoming our place and claimed the ideas as her own. I think it was Einstein that said creativity is successfully hiding your sources of inspiration.
I am a right brained cooperative, empath, creative type but methodical she had no evidence of right brain activity but damn good at maths.
Myself being a creative type and in the film game I had to give an opinion on a short film she had made for a famous short film festival. I was stunned to see the film was shot poorly in a morgue with an actual corpse, the body on the slab with two technicians hovering over the toe-tagged deceased. It was a supposedly humorous film but the joke escaped me, as did most of the dialogue.
Not impressed I struggled to find diplomatic but encouraging words.

Now I need to explain that I see films differently to most viewers. I am trained to see the mistakes and fix them in post-production if possible. I see bad cuts, half frames and dropouts , mics in shot, reflections, continuity, colour balance and matching issues, lots you won’t see at all.
You may find it strange that I don’t go to cinemas much. Preferring to watch solo so I can speak out freely when I see these errors. The bump in the tracking shot of the main scene in Meryl Streeps “Sophies choice” for example; A huge wide shot of the train station slowly tracking in to Ms Steeps’ magnificent close-up as she decides which of her children goes to the NAZI death camp.
I couldn’t help myself saying to my then girlfriend beside me “how did they leave that bump in!”.
She, bubbling tears, looked at me shocked I could be so distracted from the narrative.
Fair point but that is my job. It may just have been a dodgy sprocket hole on the print we viewed but back to the main subject.
Martine’s job, head of a medical emergency room is constant trauma and sometimes, well quite often, death.
I asked her to tell me some stories of her day to day.

How about the 90year old patient let out to his very large italian family for a christmas party, has a wonderful day and returned in his wheelchair by a dozen well wishing family members to the hospital to continue treatment.
Our girl meets them at the entrance, apparently he is sleeping after a few wines, she pronounced him dead on arrival in front of the family there and then, no privacy no empathy in front of now very disturbed kids and adults. Chaos ensues.
As she relates this story our girl gets that wry smile again, that smile that now distresses me.
I am not that emotionally hard but I had a Veterinary step-father and holding some organ out of the way during surgery was an after school chore, better than cleaning kennels!
I only ever got ill while holding puppies having their tails docked.
I could see Martine has to be detached as well, but certainly lacking any empathetic bedside manner.

Similarly her best female friend, a charming late thirties, tall, sleek, Greek goddess with a small child and baby, meets us in the local park at the kids playground. She implores Martine to look at a new mole interrupting the smooth olive skin of her chest.
“Cancer! you may die!” our girl announces in front of the now very distressed small child and in earshot of the other mothers nearby. Just a lack of empathy? Inappropriateness?
Turned out to be nothing serious.
I think she just wanted to shock. Turns out the Greek woman has recently been accepted by a publisher for her first book, something about the Greek/Armenian atrocities. Martine has won a local writing contest with a poem, she doesn’t hide her jealousy well.
I began to think there was some mental issue hiding in my little woman.
I thought of our few but intense arguments, she is a feisty one her father had warned me.
I had left my “no brainer” job to renovate the flat under her house we lived in that had been damaged by a drunken occupant leaving his chicken roasting and falling into a stupor. Now me as “house-husband” paying the household bills was also asked of me. But no! I failed! Apparently there’s ways to pay a bill I hadn’t heard of before and our first argument ensued. Yes I had paid the electricity bill, to the centime and on time.
Seems I was incorrect to pay the full amount I should have paid more, one cent more.
Why I hear you ask ?
I inquired of the raging, yelling gnome and got this reply in essence.
“It stuffs up the big electric corporation to have a credit on an account!” ohh kaaay, sure it does.

I tried explaining the rounding up process for the few cents difference to a further tirade,
“so make it a dollar! ”
To be honest I would do anything she asked if she asked before the action, I can take direction!
Just like to see the script before I act.
so I learnt about “gaslighting”
then something happened that blew me away, I went to her parents house for dinner. I went into shock.
It was the house I used to visit my first gf as she was babysitting! Martine was really the babysitee I mentioned earlier! I would discover later many names, variations of spelling mixing surnames and assumed names on incoming mail to “our” place. she had tax-dodging properties in many names.
Now I should mention I had a great relationship with her parents. He had had a mild stroke, could walk a little and still liked a beer and watch the football at the local club. I was happy to help with that.
The Mother was the librarian at the local high school Martine and I had both attended albeit years apart. Her Dad had built many houses in the area and made considerably more than his geography professorship paid. Time had increased the price of the family house into the millions, well the land anyway, the house was quite unusual and on a very steep block but had magnificent views.
Once we had taken the old man out on his yacht which had been lying idle since his stroke. Martine wheeled him down to the boat in a wheelbarrow more usually full of sails and I helped him onboard, set sail and off we went for a lovely sail on the sunny bay.
Well that lasted 10mins and Martine was suddenly bored and very cross with her dad for no apparent reason. I resisted the temptation to push her overboard, yes it was that bad!
I suggested tea might be good and she disappeared into the cabin. After 20mins I handed steering to the old man and went to see how she was going with the beverages. To my surprise and horror she was using an old pump action kerosene stove to boil the water, fuel fumes filled the cabin; it was spilled all over the tabletop, floor, the stove and looking decidedly dangerous.
Another argument, its fine she says, no worries. Pretty casual for such a threatening situation. I wondered about intentional arson.
The flat under her house I worked on also had a deliberately dangerous aspect or two. The shower a basic affair was directly below the electric oven upstairs. Powerful 30amp cable hanging loose right next to the shower head! o conduit, damaged it was potentially instant death.

Finally after several other incidents one caught me mildly, rusty nail pierced my foot quite deeply and she injected me with a tetanus shot. It was at that moment I realised I did not trust her. was that really a tetanus shot? i slept for nearly 24 hrs, I think now it was insulin. I was diagnosed with diabetes a little later.
Martine in my presence also offered old ladies in particular a doubling of their pension in return for a lein on the sale of their houses for repayment post mortem several accepted this offer.
She started treating her own father who I now understood she hated with a passion. He died after another stroke 5 months later making her a very rich woman. FYI an ER doctor is not allowed to do this only a general practitioner or specialist can prescribe but she could get any drug she wanted from the ER.
There were many medical books in the house and one day while she was away I discovered the DSM manual which describes all the various mental illnesses and their indicators. I studied it furiously looking for some correlation to my observations; only one really covered her as I knew her and that was NPD narcissistic personality disorder, my first experience of the term.
the symptoms fit like a glove. I resigned myself to observing her more intently and see if I could confirm my amateur diagnosis.
Around this time I had been encouraged to seek some help for my own lingering abuse problems and I brought this NPD up to my female psych who dismissed it outright. more on female anti-male bias in the health service in some later post but describing repeatedly the vilest parts of your life to a stranger is no easy task. it didn’t seem to help, quite the opposite.
try medication they said ok I tried. anti depressants don’t kick in for a few weeks so I diligently took my pills and waited for some change.
Martine would have one glass of red wine with dinner leaving me to finish the bottle. after a week or two I was getting seriously phased and had emotional outbursts like I have never before. mentally I went downhill fast and was like stoned all the time but with huge emotional sensitivity. I cried a lot was very very depressed and getting worse. I couldn’t understand it at all and was getting seriously confused daily.
then I saw her behind me one night via a window reflection put some pills in our wine, she had poured hers first, hmmmm.
I sensed a very real danger to my life and decided to pack up there and then.
gone! she put an AVO (apprehended violence order)

on me that day

! have never been violent with any non-aggressor ever! mad c~~~.
took me six weeks to regain true lucidity again. god knows what pills she was feeding me.

And that my brothers is my story I have been a monk since and burned enough not to try again and concentrating on fun and business to fund it.
I have to say that NAWALT is true.
MGTOW is the best way of life in this feminist f~~~ery we have.

and i really do need an app maker!

Marriage may have been advertised to us by our friends, relatives, and the TV set, but what purpose does it serve for us?

(“What’s in it for me?” as Tom Leykis would often say.)

I think marriage (modern marriage) benefits a lot of people EXCEPT for the husband. I’ve met many married men with children and 2 jobs. He has to work so the bills can get paid and the wife can go shopping. Toys are much more expensive than the ones I played with during my childhood—a lot of kids don’t want to play with something that doesn’t have a computer chip in it.
Woman are good at spending (wasting) money on stuff to decorate the house, so it’s convenient for them to have a husband that’s willing to work extra hours and strive for pay raises. All the useless trinkets that women buy helps local and international economies. And the governments love the sales tax revenue.

The husband also must burn his black book—the book that contains the phone numbers of all the women he could date and potentially have sex with. He is socially obligated to only have sex with his wife…when she’s in the mood to have sex.

If the husband gets sick of his lot in life and retreats to the garage to tinker with his car or make plans to buy a motorcycle, the wife will often make him feel guilty about it and call him selfish for spending HIS MONEY on car parts and a Harley Davidson. She wants all his money to belong to her.

So after he pays the government tax, the wife tax, and the kid tax, he finally has some money left over to have a beer with his friends on a fishing trip or at the bar. And when he comes home, the wife is mad because he had a good time without her while she watched the kids. That means he gets no dinner or sex.

After the kids leave the house, some men think about doing the same. So they hire a lawyer and try to get rid of their wives. And then they really have to pay for that—BIGLY.

The lawyers will get paid, also the judges and the court clerks. Society will punish the man with a financial $ettlment for the wife because her husband refused to take care of her needs and desires. People will tell the ex-husband his marriage would’ve been great if he chose the right woman. The ex-wife can still go shopping at the mall at his expense and have a roof over her head.

Now the ex-husband is free to get an apartment and salvage the rest of his life. He’s right back to where he was when he was in his 20s, but he’s older and wiser.

If a lot of men decide to go their own way, many businesses will suffer (Toys R Us). The family law attorneys will have to look for another job or chase ambulances. The diamond mines will close. And millions of lonely women will be crying on February the 14th.

"I saw that there comes a point, in the defeat of any man of virtue, when his own consent is needed for evil to win-and that no manner of injury done to him by others can succeed if he chooses to withhold his consent. I saw that I could put an end to your outrages by pronouncing a single word in my mind. I pronounced it. The word was ‘No.’" (Atlas Shrugged)