A woman’s ability to draw us into a world of death and hell is not unlike the Venus’s-flytrap that lures and captures flies. In the same way the grizzly bear is drawn to honey and the great white shark is drawn to human flesh, men are but clay that women can mold into any shape they want. This is something I cannot stand. Women are the ultimate puppeteers, and men are the Pinocchios of the world.

It is because of this that I hate most women. I also hate their arrogance, their desire to show every part of their anatomy to entice us, their erratic moods, their periods, their need to ridicule the male and their general drive to castrate, critique and control us.

That said, when I go down on a woman—which I have been doing for 56 years—I always have the same game plan. I close my eyes because I do not want to look at the vile, jagged hunks of flesh that protrude out of her hole. Any orifice of the human body that has the temerity to be on a calendar schedule and bleed monthly is no different from prostate cancer or toes afflicted with athlete’s foot. Pussy is akin to a stinking armpit, so I close my eyes to avoid seeing a gaping, hair-filled opening.

I despise women because when trying to give one an orgasm, it’s like climbing Mount Everest. Her clit plays hide-and-seek with your tongue, and your attempt to get her off is like being in a war zone, dodging the friendly fire of a tired jaw and pubic hair in your teeth. Compared to her pussy, her ass should be condemned to the ninth circle of hell. Her mouth is usually filled with yesterday’s food and the many bacteria that have set up colonies there. The only real value for her piehole is to receive the offering of your cock and to splatter the inside of her larynx with your cum. If you look carefully down a woman’s throat, you will see a little village of life with accordion players and a miniature Disneyland.

Women are not completely to blame. We, as men, carry some responsibility too. Men are in desperate need of pussy based on our genetic makeup. We are witless, mindless and merely a product of biology. Our cocks are like boats in a storm seeking a safe harbor of warm slit. Women who have the depth and sensitivity of a pincushion take advantage of the man’s weakness, need and drive. This is merely an illusion and proves how wonderful women are at creating magic. Magicians use apparatus to create illusion. Women use sexual apparatus to ensnare us. I hate them because of their machinations and their very success in manipulating me to further their own selfish ends.

Why would I have married and given them all my money and homes were it not for my fantasy that they would make me happy, care for me and fulfill my needs? Was that ten-second ejaculation and 50-second blowjob worth the price I paid with my worldly riches?

Women do not need us as much because to them we are mere figments of their imagination. We are like a plaything that they want to strip bare before moving on. They do not take us seriously and only value our possessions. Look at me now—no money and no sex.

Another reason for my hatred is arguments. Men argue to make a point, whereas a woman argues to retain her power and mastery of his libido. The pussy that produced us is the same hole that owns us. A smart male baby would stay inside the womb and enjoy the warmth and security that it offers. But the male deludes himself, caveman that he is, and seeks to slay dinosaurs while discovering and conquering new worlds. And to do this, he leaves the mother’s pussy.

The real reason I hate women is if you look between their legs, you don’t see a masculine and virile edifice. What you see is something that looks like the bloody wound from an ax. The woman’s hatred for us is wrapped around her penis envy and her desire to be us. The woman is incomplete and filled with the jealously of man’s ability to lose himself in a football game.

All of my ex-wives and ex-girlfriends have been imbeciles and predators. They are the reason for my lot in life right now and the philosophies that I spew.

One wife was decades younger than me and had the brains of a tadpole. She was the worst cocksucker I ever had, although I did give her a few orgasms when I licked her clit. She was drawn to my power and sexual prowess, but when I went bankrupt, she abandoned me like weeds.

Another wife was an Irish cleaning woman. She stalked me on my TV show and was turned on by my fame. (Details of all these experiences, by the way, can be found in my autobiography—I, Goldstein—in stores now.) Although she blew me before the marriage, I suspect she was a lesbian. After the ceremony, we never had sex again. She got almost a million dollars.

The mother of my son was a schoolteacher who hated me because I was a pornographer—a philosophy she imparted to my son. She got several million dollars.

Wife two was a Pan Am flight attendant who was a class act and deserved better than the likes of me.

At age 27 I embarked on my Columbus-like voyage of hatred toward women with a cowlike, deformed quasi-human. Our three-year relationship was like a trip on the Titanic. When we fucked, her gigantic boobs crushed my head, which I did not like. I am not a boob man.

A recent example of my hatred and repulsion toward women takes place in my book, and it is about a woman named Venus, a high-priced call girl who worked for Heidi Fleiss. She was drop-dead gorgeous, started hooking at age 18 and could earn four to ten thousand dollars a week. Her greatest gift to me was that she would blow me for free on my birthday. I loved every crack and fold in her body, except that her tits were too big. Like she did with everything else in her life, she got carried away with implants.

When Ron Jeremy told her that I had written about her in my book and blog, she freaked out and called me. Venus screamed at me for revealing that she was a hooker, even though I didn’t mention her real name. I tried to explain that as a journalist, the truth means something and that a newsman either betrays his friends or himself. I made nothing up about her, but was merely a mirror reflecting her life as best as I could. Venus may be ashamed of selling sex for money, but she is like every wife in America who willingly trades her body for a home and comfortable life.

You have read all of my words of bile toward the deadly female of the species. But why have I not become a faggot and abandoned these hairy collections of refuse? I have always argued that it takes a real man to suck cock, so why do I even frequent the company of women? Having children is a minimal use of their womb, because they may have Frankenstein-like offspring.

But occasionally, one runs into a woman who is like a goddess. For me, that woman was a B-movie scream queen with petite toes, lovely breasts, delectable ass. Her scrumptious pussy made her far more desirable than any man could hope to be. Our relationship was predicated on honesty. On our first date, at my Los Angeles apartment, I gave her $200. And being a good Jew, I negotiated a better deal while we were engaged. My first load was $200, but if I could come more than that, I paid only $100 per shot. There was total honesty and integrity in the relationship. I always got to pop some sperm; she’d swallow every drop and thank me for my delicious Jew juice. And she got what she wanted—cash.

There is a famous parable about a scorpion riding a frog during a flood. In the middle of the flood the scorpion stings the frog, and they both drown. Before the frog dies, it croaks, “You fool, now both of us will die!” And the scorpion says, “I could not help myself; it is in my nature.” It is in a woman’s nature to crush, kill and destroy. It is also in my nature to hate. It’s a perfect match, really.

P.S. What I most love about HUSTLER Editorial Director Bruce David is that 34 years ago, when I introduced him to the world of porn, not only did he become Screw’s finest editor, but he was also the world’s ultimate misogynist. I was drawn to his reputation for throwing tiresome and aging girlfriends down eight flights of stairs. Bruce David was my Ted Williams and Babe Ruth without a bat. His disrespect and hatred for women were legendary in the men’s field. Today he is a crumpled shell of what he once was. His beautiful blond wife has neutered him, and she has trained Bruce to use his litter box without a whimper or even an offensive stink. He has been so emasculated that Larry Flynt’s next magazine, called Cocksucker, will be edited by Bruce.

Seventy-one-year-old Al Goldstein lives alone in Queens, New York. For more of the raconteur’s ravings, pick up his autobiography, I, Goldstein, or read his blog at Booble.com. Al can be contacted at AlvinGoldstein@gmail.com and is especially receptive to offers of food, work or pussy

Try harder.

?

When women start buying men diamonds to marry their fat lazy asses… jump for the check, and pay for dinner and drinks and whatever ELSE you hookers expect….. then women have no business expecting men to care about being good in bed too.

A whore doesn’t get to whine about not having an orgasm or getting enough foreplay.

Cry harder.

Conan wat is best in life kill your enemies see them driven before you and hear the lamentation of the women.hahhahahah

It’s funny that you should accuse women of wanting control, and it’s probably the result of you projecting your own insecurities onto others. According to the American Bar Association, 87% of stalkers are men, 92% of physical assault against women is by men, 100% of rapes against women are done by men, 70% of rapes against men are done by men and 86% of physical assaults against men are done by men. So it would appear that men are the ones desperately searching for some control. (Not to mention that men’s disposition – their tendency towards anger and violence and sometimes lack of inhibition – and their fear of failure sets them up to be the prime control freaks.)

Just tell her EXACTLY what she wants to hear.

Done.

The only reason YOU think we don’t know how to turn a woman on… is because you’re on a website where men don’t give a flying FUCK about “telling women what they want to hear”.

This website is not about “turning women on”.
IT SAYS ON THE FRONT DOOR – WOMEN FUCK OFF.

The problem is limp-dicked men like the author (i’m assuming) want to say “women hate sex” because women hate sex with HIM. Yeah, if you can’t do nothing but skip foreplay and hump us like rabbit for 30 seconds or so–then you’re worthless and we won’t want your dick. Sex can just leave a girl angry and frustrated when we never get off because the guy doesn’t know how to do it right. Don’t blame women for your shortcomings.

This website is pathetic. But it’s funny that men would rather tell themselves that “women hate sex” that to own up to the fact they don’t know how to turn a girl on. I feel kinda sorry for ya’ll, but it’s still funny as hell to read this shit.

None of the generalisations about women on this site are “ridiculous”. And I’d go as far as saying that some of the generalisations aren’t generalisations at all.

Oh the humanity, the pain, the anguish of being a superior man. It’s not enough that you already rule the world, you want to make all of the women in the world suffer too. As if giving birth to an ungrateful, spiteful, ignorant cock-suck of man isn’t enough punishment already.

How is saying men are better than women(a fact you yourself proved beyond doubt when you said we rule the world) making women “suffer”?

I’m not saying all women are perfect, hell a lot of them ARE dumb whores. But it’s not fair to make sweeping generalizations about the endearing counterpart of your species. Just as it’s not fair for radical Feminists to make bias generalizations about men.

A lot of them are dumb whores…except you, right? Let me tell you something – that is also what the “dumb whores” think.

An ACTUAL prejudice, based solely on one’s relative (no fun intended) location – “nice” job.

“…why do you really hate them so much?”

That boyfriend/husband of your’s or a friend’s, whose back you talk behind – why do you hate him so much?
That darn cat that claws the furniture, jumps on the counter, poops outside of its litterbox, eats the neighborhood songbirds, that so many of you have scolded mercilessly and with “irreverence” – why do you hate it so much?

“Did your mother touch your winky-dink in the bath tub? Did your wife contract HPV whilst cheating and pass it on to you? Did the popular girl in high school turn you down?”

This is a good start, and not statistically improbable; but nevertheless has little to do, per se, with THE FACT, that in almost every way, menareBETTERthanwhimmin.

“Some of you just seem outright gay, and if not gay, totally asexual. If you would talk out your frustrations (like normal humans)…”

Another implication that there would necessarily be something wrong with that.
I suppose, using your metrics, we can shut-down any Website which in any way disparages men (no scientific proof, but my guess is you just can’t handle being satirized).

“I’m going to assume that over half of you “women haters” don’t actually show your aggression towards women in real life.”

If you could prove that we do, would you PREFER that we did?!?

“I bet you keep all of your psychotic thoughts tucked away in your head until you get home on the computer. Upon your arrival, you sit at your maple wood desk and ponder the things you find unfair in the world. You vigorously pound away at your keyboard, ranting about bias bullshit that contains not one ounce of validity.”

While roughly 4% of the population is sociopathic, how could you possibly know, via the Internet, that ANYONE is psychotic?
While you apparently can’t comprehend satire, I DO have statistics, based on DIRECT measurement, which prove that men outperform whimmin in almost every endeavor.

“Oh the humanity, the pain, the anguish of being a superior man. It’s not enough that you already rule the world, you want to make all of the women in the world suffer too. As if giving birth to an ungrateful, spiteful, ignorant cock-suck of man isn’t enough punishment already.”

Gee – I guess words do have power. Especially on you.
How about you and the feminists try this for UNGRATEFUL: instead of bitching at/about men because everything doesn’t and CAN’T come out EQUAAAAAAAAL – throw everything MANmade out of your convenient lives, THEN come back here with YOUR nonsensical, ungrateful-ridden rants.
(And don’t give me that “We haven’t had a chance” BULLSHIT – just check out WHO the leaders in societal creativity/innovation are, AT THIS MOMENT, when your gender enjoys every opportunity and MORE, to be creative; but still depends on men for almost everything you have, are, and will, utilize and benefit from).

“You think you know the mind of a woman? Try talking to one in real life. Obviously, by the personality descriptions of the women you rage on and on about, you’ve only encountered uneducated, ditzy whores.”

So you would suggest a crocodile hunter must get “up close and personal” with all of them before he could know their general intent? (Enough of you are malicious, that yes, men too are taking a more proactively negative approach/view).

“Well I’ve got some news for you non-college graduates. No one gives a fuck. Not the girl next door, or your mom upstairs making dinner.”

Once again – the whimmin don’t like/understand satire, so they engage in conjecture; or at least insinuate that a non-college graduate’s views/statements are wholly unworthy.

“Go suck a cock if you’re so worried about females.”

And to think I passed up a chance to introduce you to “my mother upstairs making my dinner.”

” Just as it’s not fair for radical Feminists to make bias generalizations about men.”

Yet they have – and with little evidence in any area of human activity, endeavor, achievement, etc. that whimmin can do what men have done, minus artificial elevation;or even with it (gee – you’d think that if whimmin really thought they were equal in capabilities, that they’d be rallying to get their special treatment/status revoked).

It never ceases to amaze me how the dingbats who “can’t believe a site like this is allowed to exist!!!,” conveniently ignore the spiteful writings of feminist-types which came before it.
For example, from “A Feminist Dictionary” –

“A Feminist Dictionary” ed. Kramerae and Treichler, Pandora Press. 1985

Man: An obsolete life form. An ordinary creature who needs to be watched. A contradictory baby-man.

YouWesternWhimminBetterWatchIt-TheRevokingOfYourArtificialStatusIsComi ng