Category Archives: precious bodily fluids
The dude who reads ridiculous man rants on the Internet in a voice vaguely resembling that of legendary actor Christopher Lee as Saruman has brought us all a little gift this morning: A nearly ten-minute dramatic reading of “My Seed is Liquid Fucking Gold” by LaidNYC.
Now all we need to do is to convince the dude who does those True Facts videos to do one.
Sorry. A LOT.
Let’s let him explain:
I don’t give a shit about sex. Any broad can spread her legs.
You know what I do care about? Holding girls to a higher standard.
Why? Because my seed is liquid fucking gold and I don’t give it out like its god damn tap water.
And … I’ve already lost my appetite for dinner.
A couple of days ago, Rachel Swirsky — an award-winning science fiction and fantasy writer who posts at Alas, A Blog and sometimes comments here on Man Boobz as well — sent along a link to a brilliant, brutal, and horrifying short story she’d recently published in Apex Magazine. Titled “Abomination Rises on Filthy Wings,” the story is essentially her attempt to get inside the mind of a violent misogynist.
As the editor’s note to her story explains:
Swirsky wrote this piece after talking to multiple editors who worked with horror stories, all of whom reported receiving many submissions about men murdering their wives or ex–wives. Despite the fictional veneer and supernatural justification [for the murder], many have the feel of personal revenge fantasies, and most characterize the women through disturbing, misogynist stereotypes. Swirsky wanted to see if it was possible to write a story that included all the markers of the trope but nevertheless subverted it.
In writing the story, Swirsky told me, “I drew heavily on Manboobz for mood and imagery, to try to get the sense of the narrator.”
So, enjoy. But first, I should warn you that the story is very violent, very disturbing, and could very well be triggering. So giant TRIGGER WARNING.
Here’s the LINK.
The fellas in the Men’s Rights subreddit are getting worked up over imaginary feminists again!
Yesterday, in a discussion of paternity fraud, a brand-new Redditor who had never posted a comment before posted a completely unsourced screenshot of what quite a few of the regulars took to be some sort of official feminist statement on paternity fraud.
I’ve found my new favorite Men’s Rights Redditor. Brand new, really, as gonemgtow’s account is only two days old. This comment, his very first, is so loopy — yet also so true to manosphere ideology — that I can’t help but suspect that it’s an inspired hoax — and possibly even the work of one of the old banned trolls here. (I have one in particular in mind.) If not, wow.
I’ve taken the liberty of breaking his wall o’ text into readable paragraphs. Enjoy. Oh, if you’re at work, don’t read this out loud, as it starts off with a bang, NSFW-wise.
Yesterday we looked at far-right manospheran clod/philosopher Vox Day’s melodramatic response to a Canadian sexbot ban that’s completely imaginary (but that Vox, natch, believed was real). Today, let’s look at an almost 3000-word post by one “Ian Ironwood” of the Red Pill Room, spelling out the dire implications of this imaginary legislation.
ProTip: Before writing 3000-word screeds denouncing something, spend 5 minutes with Teh Google to see if what you’re denouncing is in fact real.
You might think that Pickup Artists, dudes obsessed with sexing up the young fertile lasses, would be huge fans of contraceptives – which, after all, are what makes their particular lifestyle possible. But some prominent PUAs are about as enthusiastic about contraception as a Pope.
In the case of the charming fellow who calls himself Heartiste, I mean this literally. In a recent posting, he quotes approvingly from Pope Paul VI’s 1968 Humanae Vitae dissing contraceptives for allegedly demeaning the women that use them. Paul suggested that contraception may cause men to
lose respect for the woman and, no longer caring for her physical and psychological equilibrium, may come to the point of considering her as a mere instrument of selfish enjoyment, and no longer as his respected and beloved companion.
I’m no Pope, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.