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Topic: Purpose of having children?
Alright , so i was thinking for few weeks about this now.
And id like to know what you guys think.
So ill start:
Is the purpose of life to have children ?
But why my child will be so special than the others ?
There is 7 billion people on planet .. how my child can be better than the others and do better than the others?
Isnt it dangerous in todays world with killers, molesters ( and not only men ar so, okay ? Woman are also killers and molesters ) f~~~ed up education witch is out dated centuries ago. Wars and bombings … MEDIA?..
I feel like its safer to actualy save the child and dont let him/her born ( save the seed ) rather than get it form a woman with unknown history of her life.And finaly, i am not some kind of emperor or either my family tree had anything important for history.
So basicly no one would give a f~~~ if will i have a child or not …
And … we die alone no matter how many friends or children we have…So i might be missing a lot of key points here , but please feel free to criticize and place your opinion here
Thank you
.
Topic: The Bitterest Pill
Not that the first pill was easy, but this one is very hard to choke down. The first one came after ages of trying to make xW happy, of investing so much time, effort and capital in a useless cause. Of having the one person who swore to have my back, rather stick a knife in it. And then reading and finally grasping that AWALT. That was a bitter pill, one I finally choked down, but also one I can still taste.
This next pill really hurts. I have two daughters, knew them since conception. Had never held a baby before daughter 1 was born, but I tried my damnedest to be the best father possible. Again, a huge investment of time, effort and capital, all offered with gratitude (by me) that I was blessed being able to do such.
Fast forward to xW moving out to pursue her lesbian self-actualization. The girls being groomed by their mother and assorted lieutenants to tag along quietly, accepting the largess showered upon them.
And them turning their backs on me, their father. Without an explanation, without even a goodbye. Gone, and in light of <10 hours contact in over four years, gone.
I blamed it on a personality disordered mother, on brainwashing, threatening, bribery, whatever… Blamed it on any outside agency I could turn my anger on.
But the pill I am now considering taking is the bitterest. This pill paints my daughters as AWALT. And I am building up to choking this one down next.
Topic: Greetings from the Sandpit
Hi
Found your site whilst researching why my Ex kept setting fire to my dreams at night, even though we split 2 years ago, which I now see as a blessing and a lucky escape.
I’m a Brit living and working in Kuwait by choice after my company offered me the change to get away and start afresh. 12 months living here with a 3 previous years commuting between the UK and the Middle East.
Was married for 24 years before separating in 2012, we still keep in touch and are genuine good friends (with benefits) when I pop back to the UK for some rain and a reminder why I live abroad! We both have our space and do our own things.
2 grown up sons, the youngest of which joined my old Army Regiment and is loving it, lucky bugger!
The drama for me came when the woman I got together with post separation from the wife played away from home and just couldn’t conceal it well enough (Secretive texts, projection of guilt-you’re having an affair with your PA”, non existant sex life etc etc) He was a co worker although in a junior position to her.
When I eventually got her to confess it is was of course all my fault as she was lonely. I was away too much etc. even though she travels extensively. She loved both of us in different ways bulls~~~.
Not surprisingly, I didn’t take this too well, I had a breakdown and was off sick for a month whilst she hung around like a bad smell expecting me to leave so she could pick over my carcass. All immediate family on both sides were appalled by her actions, with initial thoughts being that it was me that had done the dirty!!!
Whilst she was on a 3 day work trip to Toulouse I took great pleasure in packing everything she owned into her SUV, changing the locks of the cottage and pinning a sign on the front door stating that I was out of town, and that she was to put her keys through the letterbox and f~~~ off.
Unsurprisingly, I received a pleading phone call, where was she to go, how could I do this to her etc etc- RESPONSE “Go to Jason’s you know there’s room in his bed for you! I had found out the other guys details and had a chat with him telling him he was welcome to the lying unfaithful bitch. He told me that they had finished the relationship, which alas was a lie but WTF his problem not mine!
So off she goes into the sunset? as if life could have been so easy, No.
I picked myself up and started to reevaluate my life as it currently stood and saw how my time with her had robbed me of being me so decided to get out there, get back on the horse, and enjoy life.
2 weeks after the eviction, I returned from a rather enjoyable night at the pub, to be awoken by knocking at the door and my phone ringing at 2am. Yes it was the wicked witch from Wales, wanting to talk and try to patch things up. Why was this happening? simples, I wasn’t conforming to her plan of me leaving the cottage and was no longer on my knees pining for her and she was jealous, wanting to know what I had been doing since she left. for a brief moment I considered letting her in, but I knew that if I did then the mental games would start so just said good night and shut the door.
We both work in the same industry all be it for different companies and a few months later I was attending a conference in the US which previously we had attended together. My/our US friends were aware that we had split but not the real reason why. When asked over drinks as to why, I of course told the truth, which unsurprisingly was a different version from what they had heard from her. Embarrassing for some but not for me. Yes she was at the conference but very sheepish and thankfully didn’t attempt to speak to me, although I made sure she saw myself and my PA having fun at one of the drinks parties!
The world turns and last month I awoke from a deep sleep as she had made an appearance and for the next couple of weeks kept turning up. WTF was going on, I thought I was over her!
Well the good thing is I am now, the past couple of weeks have enabled my to lay the past to rest and move on. MGTOW why didn’t I know you were around before all of this sorry tale started. Twice bitten, twice shy as I say.
There is life after destructive relationships, and now 2 years later I can finally see the light. Life has never been better, Im single, have a number of girlfriends that are on call if and when I’m in town around the region, but on my terms. Dating has become a no nonsense, no bulls~~~ activity, with me stating upfront whats in it for them and my rules. Surprisingly, here in the Middle East this goes down well as there’s women who GTOW as well. Perhaps its the sink hole for those who have suffered at the hands of previous partners and are living their lives their way.
So there you have it, the edited highlights of how I got to here
Be well one and all
D
Life's a bitch, then you're supposed to marry one and then die- sod that for a game of soldiers!
AnonymousHere’s a story I’ve been wanting to tell for a very long time and now, on this forum, I feel this is as good a time as any.
My wife and I have been together for about 15 years and it was some 2 years into our relationship, that we were to come into a small, but not insignificant sum of money.
Naturally talk got round to what we should do with it. Top of the agender was the cottage we called a home, and the small fact that it had no double glazing, or central heating, or even running hot water.
I suggest that this is a priority. After all, even my wife is sick of the sub-zero temperatures the local area can sink to, and she agrees readily that this should be done forthwith.
Now I’m a competent guy and there’s nothing I can’t turn my hand to – building, mechanics etc and I genuinely enjoy this kind of work.
I begin to make plans for the tasks ahead.
Then the money arrives and a couple of days later, I’m awoken at 6am by my wife lying on top of me in bed, and an almost infantile look of exitement on her face.
“I want a horse riding arena !!!”
This comes as a bit of a shock to me. ‘Where the hell did that come from and what about the heating?’
She explains that the ‘really’ cold weather only lasts about 2 months a year and that it’s not really a hardship, there are worse people off etc. I struggle to think of any off the top of my head.
Now I must point out that anyone who’s been married or in a serious relationship before, will know all too well, that you ultimately ‘do as you are told’.
Plans for the cottage are scrapped and I begin research into building an arena.
Luckily, we are situated on low lying land, and after an exploritory dig, discover that there is a natural bed of approximately 2 foot of sand. Ideal.
It’s September (bloody cold). In short order, a used and delapidated 5 tonne tracked excavator is purchased, the area to be converted (a rundown woodland) is chosen, and I begin by removing various trees and shrubs etc.
The area (40×20 metres, standard arena size) is marked out and I begin removing 3 foot of top soil.
One month later, I have a humongous ‘sand pit’ and an equally huge pile (3000 square metres) of top soil. I begin to spread and landscape ‘the mountain’.
About now and somewhat annoyingly, the size of the areana “isn’t big enough’, so I then spend the next 2 weeks expanding and extracting more soil so that it is now 40×35 metres. I get back to landscaping.
It’s currently November and I’m informed that she ‘wants’ it completed by February, as she has plans to get all her horsey friends round for a big opening extravaganza (?) Oh well . . .
Next job is to dig approximately 250 metres of trenches across the arena and then a trench 400 metres long, across fields and to a nearby drainage ditch. No problem, I studied surveying for a while and single handedly, using the digger bucket to hold the measuring stick, I excavate a top-class ditch.
With all the trenches dug, next is laying the plastic land drains, which entails laying, covering with gravel and backfilling. Another 3 weeks go by (hail, snow, rain, gale force winds).
During this entire exercise, my wife spends her days riding, shopping for stuff we don’t really need and generally criticising my work. I even have to cook my own dinner at night. Actually her eldest daughter (by a previous marriage), tells her that she could at least ‘give him a nice home to come to’. Still, she’ll love me even more when I’ve completed this wonderful gift for her?
With the drains in, I construct a ‘road’ across muddy fields and a parking area, which entails demolishing knackered drystone walls to use as a base and tonnes of road planings collected by myself from a quarry in a 2 tonne tipping trailer (purchased for this job).
Now I feel like I’m getting there. How on earth I’m doing all of this on my own I don’t know, but I’m learning and ‘improving’ myself all the time?
It’s now January, I’ve only had 3 days off (yes, really) in the 5 months so far, as ‘she who must be obeyed’ reminds me constantly that otherwise it won’t be finished in time for the ‘big event’.
Final job is to erect a tall 5 bar post-and-rail fence, (with huge gate) around the perimeter.
Driving posts with the excavator, nailing the countless meterage of rails by hand and creosoting the wood. By the end my elbow is F~~~ED !!!
The day of the big event arrives and I quite literally finish hanging the gate as the first horse lorry arrives. Her friends are stunned at ‘her’ new facility, the only acknowledgement in my direction is a wave and “Hello (my name).”
It’s a beautiful day and the arena is full of young women, with flowing blonde hair, bouncing t~~~ and tight arses clad in very tight joddies. I hand each of them a glass of bubbly and sit down to consume the half-bottle left over and enjoy the spectacle in front of me. Good job I’ve got my shades on, though with my buggered elbow, I struggle to lift the glass to my lips. The wife keeps giving me dirty looks.
Now back tracking a bit, I’d made it quite clear that when all the work was done, I was going to get my really best mate up from down south, where I would spend one week all to ourselves, just jamming on guitar, drinking beer, talking utter bollocks and eating good food (he’s a top chef and a bloody decent chap).
And . . . for 2 days, it’s paradise.
Then I notice that the misses appears a little down in the mouth (that awful droopy corners of the mouth thing). “What’s up?”
She launches into me.
“There’s loads to do round here and you’re just sitting around acting ‘stupid’, like it doesn’t matter !!!”
Then I heard a phrase that would become a common form of attack.
“YOU’RE A LAZY BASTARD !!!”
My only reaction is one of dumb, gaping and stunned silence. I tell my mate about it.
The bubble is burst, the fun’s been extinguished and he say he doesn’t want to be the cause of any upset between me and the wife.
He leaves and I set forth with the next ‘urgent’ job. She’s decided that she quite likes my fencing work and that the pig-mesh surrounding her horse fields is too dangerous, so with approximately half a mile of timber delivered, I begin fencing the fields (and drive).
There is however one funny episode associated with this tale.
Several years later, the arena and my homemade ‘hill’ appear on Google Maps. This doesn’t go unnoticed by a local archeology enthusiast (a woman).
She claims that what the hill actually represents, is the remains of a Roman Fort, and I (the inconsiderate git) have dug into it, so it’s now a crescent shape.
Despite my protestations and explanations to the contrary, she says she’s going to get a court order to come onto our property and start a dig on what could be the greatest discovery in years.
I’m not sure what happened after that but nothing came of it, though whenever I see her, I’m repelled by the angry look she gives me. 😀
Peace brothers . . .
Stay vigilant. They're everywhere.
Topic: A new beginning . . .
I believe that today and for the first time in two weeks since the divorce process began, the fact we would no longer be ‘an item’ has finally become a reality for my wife.
How do I know this?
Simply put, she had begun to think of just what would be required in order for her to survive the ‘wilderness’ ahead.
Clearly she had put much time and effort into compiling her plan, as top of the list, was a new bathroom suite.
Of course and taking into account my considerable experience of her ‘unique’ way of thinking, this came as no real surprise.
What I found slightly more upsetting, was that the ‘oldy worldy’ cottage bathroom (in a real cottage) she was about to destroy, had actually been lovingly and skillfully installed by myself some 5 or 6 years previously.
At this point it’s worth mentioning that my wife has a history of demolishing the many results of my blood, sweat and tears – but that’s another story.
So with sledge hammer and pick axe to hand, she set forth in ‘removing’ various items, such as a cast iron bath (in manageable pieces), victorian lavatory and sink. I of course (in the interest of peace) offered to be on hand for advice and assistance etc, which included the suggestion that she disconnect and blank off the plumbing for example.
Here then is to be found the first obstacle many will face when attempting to help out with the other-half’s projects.
“I can do it !!!” and quickly followed by “Just tell me how.”
Knowing better than to offer any reasonable words of wisdom (I wouldn’t want to be putting her down now), I give her a quick verbal list of the tools she’ll need to tackle the task. In this case it’s push-fit plumbing, so a hacksaw, stanley knife, pipe inserts and stop-ends are all that’s required.
Off she goes to the workshop, though I’m quickly summoned to provide ‘guidance’ on identifying the various tools and parts required.
I then explain the process, which shortly leads to me demonstrating what’s involved by cutting and blanking off the ‘cold pipe’ myself.
Credit where credit’s due, she duly does the necessary to the ‘hot pipe’. I suppose hot pipe would be a slight exaggeration. The house we live in and thanks to the inescapable leadership (I think that’s the word) of my wife, has never featured such luxuries as running hot water, but that’s another story.
Whilst I’m on the subject and come to think of it, we’ve never had central heating either, but that’s . . .
By now, she’s beside herself (almost orgasmic) with delight at her newly found mastery of DIY, and quickly informs her many ‘friends’ on Fartbook. She omits to mention the scene of devestation as a result of her almost ‘psychotic’ home improvement drive. Not to worry, I’m here to clear up the razor sharp pieces of cast iron and porcelain.
Here then is the crux of the matter. I now face the prospect of neither bathing or passing my ‘daily motions’ for the next 6 months, unless it seems, I install a new suite.
Naturally, the other half assumes (no, expects) that I will simply jump at the chance like a doting puppy to carry out the required work. After all, it will make her so happy and she’ll love me so much more if I do.
Hang on a second, we’re getting divorced, and there is something strangely familiar about all of this. Indeed, I can feel the strange tightness and worrying pain down the centre of my chest.
On second thoughts, maybe the reality of divorce hasn’t actually reached my wife yet.
Where I’m concerned however, it’s moments such as this that remind me I’m on the right path.
Now breath . . . 🙂
Stay vigilant. They're everywhere.
Everyone needs a good laugh.
“”Originally Posted: 2007-02-06 2:24pm
print
Vasectomy: $400. Speechless look on her face: priceless.I’ll try to sum up a funny story that happened a few years ago:
I got a vasectomy.
I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.
I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.
We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her – as I was to find out – it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.
Four months into dating, I get the “I’m pregnant” talk. She’s going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married “for the baby”. She’s positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she’s gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.
At this point, I’m just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse “oops” on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can’t think beyond their own uteri.
So I wait a couple of days to “think about all this.” I meet her again. I say I don’t want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely bats~~~ insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.
Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I’m laughing hysterically.
It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a “negative test result for sperm” to show I’m sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I’m ready.
I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.
She’s all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly – or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. “Are you sure that this baby is mine?”
Well, she goes bats~~~ insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she’s really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she’s a slut. I’m just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities… blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
I’m not really mad. I’m kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won’t shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.
I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.
I tell her simply, “You’re screwed”.
Her look doesn’t change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.
I continue. “I am sterile”
Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women’s logic. “You’re full of s~~~. You’re trapped and you know it.”
I hold up the letter and the test results. “Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine.”
This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. “Bulls~~~, those are fakes.”
I was ready for that. “No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It’s a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine.”
I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It’s a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.
I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.
Epilogue –
I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.
The Moral of the Story –
Get a vasectomy but keep it a secret. “”
Orginal Post: http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sea/274495936.html?lang=en&cc=us
If you rescue a damsel in distress, all you will get is a distressed damsel.
So, I stumbled on this today and pretty much laughed my ass off at the irony. The TL; DR version is a 24 y/o girl is travelling and wants to ride the c~~~ carousal, so she tells her boyfriend she wants an “open” relationship, which backfires when he starts having regular sex with a new girl. Here’s the text, and here is the original thread in case you want a good laugh.
Long live MGTOW, long live the Red Pill.
Im pretty f~~~ing upset rigth now , Im going to do my best to explain everything thats happened.
Ive had an extended holiday (3 months) planned with my best friend (Tory) for years. We have always talked about it and my boyfriend (Daniel) knew we were going to do it. She finally finished college this December and we put our plan into action.
Another friend (Michelle) went on a similar trip years ago. She and her friend both had longterm boyfriends at the time, and they both ended up cheating on the trip. A while later their friendship fell apart, and they both revealed each others infidelity. It got ugly. Michelle and her boyfriend broke up, her (ex)friend stayed with her boyfriend but from the sounds of it their relationship was severely damaged.
At first i thought they were absolutely horrible for doing it, but after talking to her i could see their side of things – months of no sexual contact/release, being in a party atmosphere, of course there would be temptation. She’s young, attractive and gets lots of male attention. The encounter was purely sexual, she was drunk, and they used protection. The next day the boy was out of her life completely and that was it. I vehementely disagreed with doing all this behind her boyfriends back though.
Talking with Michelle about a month ago, she asked what im going to do about Daniel. I honestly hadnt thought about it like that, i felt like i could easily go 3 months without having sex. And id never want to betray Daniel’s trust. But Michelle made a good case for ‘opening’ our relationship while i was away – she said (paraphrasing): “Of course you love Daniel. But traveling is about experiencing new things, and that includes sex. Youll say it wont happen now, but you just have to trust me that once youre their youll feel different. Daniel is going to wonder either way if youre f~~~ing other guys on your trip. Just be upfront with him and see what he says.”
And so that night i talked to him about it. I explained that i wasnt going to be looking to f~~~ every guy i see that im attracted to, and that my love for him was as strong as ever, but i also wanted to be able act freely and party like other girls my age. It was more contingency if anything – i dont plan on f~~~ing other guys, but if it happens it happens. A nigth of partying half the world away with people ill never see again shouldnt ruin what we had here. Id insist on using protection. And of course he would have the same opportunity as me, he would be able to freely see girls if he chose to. He wasnt happy, but said he understood. He said “Youve tied my hands. If i tell you i forbid it, ill still be worried if youre being true to your word. By expressing that this is what you want, theres nothing i can do to stop you”.
Daniels a bit of a homebody – he goes out with his friends on occassion, but most nights he spends in our apartment playing video games or watching netflix. Given his lifestyle i wasnt overly worried hed be hooking up with all these random girls.
Me and Tory left on February 17. Its been eye-opening and a ton of fun. But its also been stressful. We havent done any partying, we talked to some guys one night but nothing came of it. Tonight i checked my email at an internet cafe and there was a message from Kay, a sweet old lady who lives above us in our apartment complex.
“”I have debated for days whether to send this to you and potentially ruin your vacation. But you deserve to know the truth. Daniel has been seeing another woman since you left. There is no doubt that he is seeing her, she has come over most nights and I have heard them being intimate. You deserve so much better. I’m so sorry.””
I thought i could handle this open relationship arrangement. I cant. This message shattered my heart into a million pieces. This isnt what i intended at all, i wanted the freedom to act in the moment. He is taking this as a free pass to regularly f~~~ some girl. And i have a feeling i know exactly who it is, a girl from his work who was always overly flirty with him.
I regret ever taking Michelles advice and opening my stupid mouth. I dont want him to f~~~ other girls, i dont want to f~~~ other guys. I want this slut out of my apartment NOW!!! I am a f~~~ing wreck and need other womens opinions. Tory has been so unhelpful, basically telling me to grow up and that i got what i asked for. No s~~~?! People arent allowed to change their minds or regret their decisions?!
How do I go about contacting him and expressing that this needs to stop NOW without coming across like a crazy hypocritical bitch? And let him know that i will be 100% faithful on my trip? I dont even know how i am going to look at him when i get home. I am beyond hurt, this feels so wrong and so sick.
I am going to bed now to try and get some sleep, i will check and respond to all comments tomorrow morning. Thank you 🙁
EDIT: guys, seriously stop it. I know i f~~~ed up, i brought it all on myself. Kicking me while im down isnt helping. Im not asking for your opinion on my stupid selfish decision, im asking the best way to approach this and fix it.
Tory says i should email him saying “what i said before about opening our relationship was a mistake. I havent slept with anyone here and i dont want to. Youre my parter and i dont want to compromise what we have. Please be faithful as I will be to you. I love you.” Simply dont tell him about Kay’s email or that i know there’s another woman. Thoughts?
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