Authorities in Russia’s Chechnya Republic are claiming success in an unconventional, sweeping campaign to compel people who have divorced to reunite, for the sake of the children — and, they say, to help in the fight against terrorism.
Ramzan A. Kadyrov, the president of the Chechen Republic, has reintroduced the concepts of children’s rights and family values, by retroactively nullifying most of the divorces that happened in his country in the last generation.
The female brain is such that a bitch, when she’s properly motivated, can dream up any scenario, and will not waver from accusing you of doing or saying anything, if it supports whatever makes her feel good in the moment.
This bitch (an unremarkable redhead) suddenly reappeared about a month ago. I had fucked her last summer a couple of times, and subsequently given her the brush with no drama. She wanted some more of Boxer, and Boxer obliged.
So, we met up for a bit of fucking. All seemed to go well. I bounced, and suddenly, she remembered how mean and rude and rudely mean I had been, all those months before. She had to text me about this affront immediately, asking me if I really meant all the mean stuff I said.
I kept blowing her off and deleting the conversations until finally, I offered to make material amends for my crap behavior — provided she could pony up some evidence of same.
Supposedly, I had hurt little princess deeply, by insulting her womanhood, or something. Problem is, I archive all my conversations; and no such squabble ever took place. This nonsense is not at all uncommon, but it does throw the recipient into confusion, if he’s not accustomed to wimminz and their shallow dealings.
How to explain this strange phenomenon? There are a couple of distinct possibilities, which I rank in order of descending probability.
Bitch had said squabble with some other dick she was riding last summer.
Bitch is a drama queen, and is making shit up for attention.
Bitch is genuinely psychotic, living in a dream world.
Scenario 1 is slightly more likely than 2, only because bitch caused no drama whatever last summer. Either bitch got her feelz hurt by someone she has mistaken for me, or she got her feelz hurt by a man and she needs me (a man) to pay the price for hurting those precious feelz.
Naturally, once any bitch has gone down this road, pride precludes a reasonable reversal. No bitch is ever wrong, even when her dumb ass is.
This is an annoying but fairly common scenario, which young brothers should note well. Remember a few things when dealing with a bitch that pulls this sort of nonsense.
Never complain, never explain.
Don’t apologize, even if you did something resembling what she’s accusing you of.
This tedious sort of chickie theatre is, in fact, a blessing. Bitch who pulls this sort of line is tipping you off to the fact that she is completely unfit to fill any role other than “former fucktoy” in your life. Next her immediately, and without mercy.
Women, who have been refusing to reproduce (at least in developed countries) for the last 50 years, are now slated to be replaced completely.
Motherless babies could be on the horizon after scientists discovered a method of creating offspring without the need for a female egg.
The landmark experiment by the University of Bath rewrites 200 years of biology teaching and could pave the way for a baby to be born from the DNA of two men.
It was always thought that only a female egg could spark the changes in a sperm required to make a baby, because an egg forms from a special kind of cell division in which just half the number of chromosomes are carried over.
The future apparently consists of male homosexuals, growing male babies, with the help of incubators and artificial placentae. This sounds like a bizarre vision of the world, but remember just a few years ago, before a couple of men could pretend to get married, or extort decent people of the title to their bakeries, for their refusal to pay lip service to such nonsense.
“It has been thought that only an egg cell was capable of reprogramming sperm to allow embryonic development to take place.
“Our work challenges that dogma, held since early embryologists first observed mammalian eggs in around 1827 and observed fertilisation 50 years later, that only an egg cell fertilised with a sperm cell can result in a live mammalian birth.
“We’re talking about different ways of making embryos. Imagine that you could take skin cells and make embryos from them. This would have all kinds of utility.”
For the initial experiments, scientists “tricked” an egg into developing into an embryo using special chemicals which makes the egg think it has been fertilised. Crucially the cells in an embryo copy themselves completely when they divide, and so mirror closely most other cells in the body, such as skin cells.
When scientists injected the embryos with sperm, they grew into healthy mice which went on to produce their own litters.
Technology’s ability to render a false state of consciousness, putting the world and its contents in a state of reserve, was explored by Heidegger. He called it “enframing.” Old Mart had a rosy view of the future, in which humanity transcended their own delusions.
These stories just keep on coming. As usual, no comment from the father of this unfortunate little boy, anywhere in the text.
Such great “journalists” we have in America, right folks? Fantastic people.
Predictably, the story paints dad as yet another deadbeat, who must have simply disappeared in the night. When he is mentioned, there are implications that he was an accomplice.
I have a more realistic theory…
ST. GEORGE — A 12-year-old Toquerville boy, whose abuse case sparked worldwide outrage after he was found lying on a filthy bathroom floor, severely malnourished and unable to move because his legs weren’t strong enough, doesn’t remember exactly how long he was kept in his “torture chamber,” as prosecutors called it.
But the boy remembers hearing his siblings and parents open Christmas presents. Twice.
This is the child that looked too much like daddy. It’s also likely that “siblings” were sisters. Women have zero empathy for any man, and that includes little ones.
On Monday, a judge imposed the maximum sentence on the boy’s mother, Brandy K. Jaynes, 36, convicted of three counts of intentional child abuse causing serious injury, a second-degree felony. She was sentenced to one to 15 years in the Utah State Prison for each count, with all counts to be served consecutively.
Before sentencing her, 5th District Judge Eric Ludlow called the abuse “deplorable” and “appalling.” He made Jaynes look at a picture of the room her son was locked in, where Post-it notes with messages such as “Touch the camera, I will kick your butt with a stick” and “You will act like a human at all times” were duct taped to the wall.
“You did not act like a human at all times,” Ludlow told Jaynes. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s unbelievable, quite frankly.”
The chucklehead in the black robe can act all shocked-just-shocked now, but his brothers in the legal profession are ultimately responsible for separating this boy from his dad.
Jaynes denied writing the notes, claiming the boy’s twin sister was the culprit.
Did I call it, or what? He was hated because he was a he. That’s often all it takes.
Details of the disturbing case caused a widespread outcry after Jaynes’ arrest in January. Police said the 12-year-old boy was living in a feces-filled bathroom that had been fitted with locks on the outside of the doors. He weighed just 30 pounds when he was found.
Before being sentenced Monday, prosecutor Angie Reddish-Day revealed that the boy may have been locked up from four to eight years, based on witness statements and other evidence, including the boy’s physical and mental condition,
It started with him being locked in a bedroom with no bed, being forced to lie on wood planks as Jaynes poured water on him, Reddish-Day said. The boy was later moved to a stand-up shower stall where boards were put up to keep him in. Evidence of food where the boy ate was found by investigators in the shower, she said. And later, he was moved to the small bathroom, where because of its size, the boy stopped growing.
What really puts this case in a different category is that she had a live feed camera watching him suffer every single day. … She can’t say she didn’t know what was happening because she watched it happening.
As expected, cunt’s lawyer tries to blame the father. The standards based journalists who wrote up the story have no comment from that poor guy at all.
We all know a more plausible scenario, don’t we? At some point, the father of this unfortunate kid stood tall before a divorce-court judge, and begged to be part of his son’s life. The judge ignored him (or, possibly, laughed in his face). Appeals to the courts are futile, and eventually, the poor fellow probably wandered off, after paying what little money was left to attorneys. This tragedy is the predictable end result of our “family court” system.
As a result of posts like this one and this one, Folks have recently asked me: “Boxer, how do you get all these bitches to come back to you?”
It’s simple, really. If a ho’ wants to leave, I let her go. No tears, no begging, no drama. The most she gets out of me is “So long and good luck!”
It has been my experience that in about half of such cases. The bitch does not actually want to leave. What she wants is to present the illusion that she’s leaving, to goad or scare a brother into doing what she wants him to do.
I honestly don’t remember what this particular skank-ho wanted, about six weeks ago. Maybe she wanted to be exclusive. Maybe she wanted to move in. Maybe she wanted me to take her out to a fancy place. All of these ploys have been tried on ya boy Boxer, countless times. This scenario plays out with such regularity, and I’m so thoroughly used to it, that I just go off a well-worn script and don’t bother paying attention to the details.
Skank-ho left, sure in the knowledge that I’d start pining away for the lost privilege of penetration. In reality, what often happens is that less than ten minutes after skank-ho hits the bricks, I have replaced her with an alternate, and my life goes on uninterrupted.
Sometimes the alternate is cuter, and sometimes she’s not. Sometimes she’s better as she’s down on all fours, and sometimes she isn’t. What is always true is that the new bitch has yet to bore me with these pathetic theatrics. What is also always true is that it is merely a matter of time before the new bitch becomes the old bitch, and feels comfortable (and entitled) enough to trot out her own list of demands in exchange for the use of her body. Rinse and repeat.
In the interim, skank-ho waits for me to fold. She waits and waits, her confidence growing ever shakier. She has a tinder fling or three, with men who treat her with even less courtesy than I do. Eventually, it is she who breaks. She sends me a “wat up” message.
I’m always polite, but I never behave the way they want me to, and so life goes on, and it never enters the dumb cunt’s dim peanut brain that if she had just been honest about what she wanted, perhaps I’d still retain a minimal sliver of respect for her.