Did anyone know that a woman raced in the Indianapolis 500 this year? I sure as shit didn’t. For those of you who are not racing fans, the Indianapolis 500 is the biggest car race for men in America. In some circles it’s bigger than the Super Bowl, Kentucky Derby, and the Mint 500 smashed into one glorious wreck. It is a grueling, several-hour test of skill and dexterity that challenges not only one’s physical and mental stamina, but also their ability to endlessly turn left.

Turn left?

Women have been shit at that since the yellow light was invented. [Read more]

Out of all the sports, boxing is one of man’s favorites. The art of pugilism. That’s what we call it, because men give nice legitimate names to nice legitimate things like knocking someone about with your fists. That’s an art on many levels. We also know a lot about the things we like; in this case boxing. Things like reach is important and just because the ref can call the fight doesn’t mean he should. And most importantly, women can’t fucking box.

Women boxing is just like women doing anything that requires strategy, talent, and being light on your feet; a fucking calamity. It’s so bad that I have to use a word that hasn’t been used in like eighty years to describe it. Women are a calamity in the ring. Women boxing is like women dancing. Just a bunch of wild swings and awkward gyrations to an imaginary beat that dogs can’t even hear and which pretty much always ends in blood and tears. And for what?

Since women can’t box, why in the hell did I wake up to see that on October 15th, a women is going to box a man. Holy shit. [Read more]

There’s one thing that women are better than men at. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. Women are much better than men at being dumb. But for some reason this fact is hard to prove.

Every day — or thousands of times a day — women go back to abusive spouses or hit Reply To All on an office email even though the buttons are clearly fucking labeled and that is obviously not the right one to press. We men can all agree that those are equally and hugely dumb things to do. However, in this modern and woman-age of double-think and double-speak and no accountability and all other manners of female bullshit, the evidence of the kind I’ve just described is not “evidence” per se. It doesn’t get the job done. And as men, that’s what we’re worried about at all times. Getting the job done.

What we would need in order to say for certain that women are better than men at being dumb is some kind of broad study that says very explicitly:

MEN ARE SMARTER THAN WOMEN

And says so with statistics. We’re men after all. When we prove something we do it with facts and numbers of concrete, not opinions and whining like a meandering teenage girl. Unfortunately, it’s not every day that facts and numbers like these come along.

Today is that day. [Read more]

I had the extreme misfortune yesterday of watching a show on MTV called The Best Sixteenth Birthday in the World for One Hugely Spoilt Bitch or something like that. I don’t remember what it was. I was busy at the time. What I do remember was how absolutely fucking terribly the little girls on the show behaved — and by extension how all women behave in exactly the same manner. These are role models for young women after all. Research has been done for it.

What the show taught me was something that I already knew, men are better than women at throwing parties. Everyone knows that. P Diddy knows that. And it’s not just because women’s organizational skills are a cluster fuck and that they turn into raving psychos when they have to deal with the kind of stress involved in getting a few dozen baked goods at the corner market or getting a dress hemmed before Thursday. No, it’s because women have their party attitudes all backwards ass — like a mule has had a face drawn on its butt and been taught to walk backwards.

If you ever see that, that’s a woman throwing a party. [Read more]

I attended a number of parties and bars this weekend and I found the number of women who wantonly threw themselves at me in a drunken stupor to be appalling — among other things. Women can handle their liquor about as well as a paper towel, and the second they consume it, they default to ranting, stumbling, harlots with a two second fuse for erupting into hysterics.

Of course, the only difference between this drunken women and a sober one is that this one will actually put out. It’s just a matter of when. Before or after she passes out. [Read more]

Women only have one skill. The ability to have children. And it’s not so much a skill as much as it is a defense mechanism againt doing work. Like how an octopus shoots ink all over the place when a shark is trying to bite it or stab it with something. That’s how women use their natural defense of cranking out children whenever a job is about to bite ahold of them.

It’s also like how Yakov Smirnoff would say shit about Russia about everything, even when it didn’t apply at all. Women are exactly like Yakov Smirnoff except their broken crutch is their ovaries.

Take promiscuous sex for example. Women will explain away their debauchery with some kind of mythical “biological, reproductive clock” that apparently starts dinging up like a slot machine when they hit twenty-six and spits Spanish Fly into the air like a crop duster. Where I come from we have a term for that. Horseshit.

Women also use the act of bearing a child (even the poseurs who haven’t actually gone through with it yet) to prove that they can take more pain than men — and that women have a higher pain tolerance than we do. Where I come from we have a term for that too. Super horseshit. Here’s the horse to prove it. [Read more]

Zoos have been around for as long as animals. That is a long fucking time. And in this time, men have enjoyed zoos to the fullest. We have taken leisurely strolls around them. Some of us have been fortunate enough to drink several beers in them while in London, because that’s the kind of thing you can do in London. London is a very manly place as it turns out.

The theme of the week is leisure activities. It is relaxing the mind and the body, which is something that men can do without blowing a half week of their love partner’s salary at some hoighty toighty fucking day spa run by a bunch of women who hate the fuck out of their clients.

That’s a great way to run a business by the way. Hate the fuck out of your clients. Nice one ladies. [Read more]

TV was invented by a man: one Philo T. Farnsworth. It was also proliferated by men. Businessmen — who reinvented paradigms and thought so far outside the box that my man senses quake at the mention of it.

Unlike women, men are good at both inventing things and proliferating them, but that’s not what I’m talking about today.

Television, with a history rich in the juices of man, is a total success for half of Earth’s population. The other half — women — know what to do with a television set about as much as horse-toothed monkeys know how to fold road maps. [Read more]