war

We <3 Violence

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“Sometimes, periodically I struggle with the possibility I could hurt somebody. That sometimes it’s orgasmic. What does it mean when fighting gets you erect, what does that mean?” -Mike Tyson

Why do us men crave and relish the experience of war? What is it about bloody fists and black eyes that secretly gives us a swift injection of joy? If we knew, we could never explain it due to the possibility of being looked at as maniacs. Do we even know?

Sure, some might trace it to our evolutionary needs. We survived and thrived as a species by kicking dinosaur ass and when we replicate the experience our tiny brain feels good knowing we live to fight another day and didn’t get eaten so we can carry on our genes and make babies. Yay?

I don’t think that’s it. Maybe that’s the late night beer talking. I mean, it is IT. But there’s more.

Maybe it’s sadism? Maybe all men are oddball freaks that have a weird hidden fetish for destruction?

Nah, joking. I don’t live in California and I ain’t gay.

Maybe it’s just a rebellious thing. Society wants us neutered and lame so we literally fight back by engaging in extreme acts of whoop ass to own the pozzed deep state that runs this soft gynocentric world.

I don’t fucking know. Chalk it up to hidden alien probe programming for all I care. All I know is every man needs to experience violence to feel fulfilled. Whether it’s simulated, friendly, murderous, video game driven.. pick your poison.

We are men. We love to fight.

This has been drunk writing with Red Beard. Fuck off.

Iron Mike Mindset

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“I’ll fight anybody my trainer puts me in with because I’m confident I can beat any fighter in the world.” – Mike Tyson

Mike Tyson is not only the baddest man on the planet, he is also one of the smartest.

Most people see Mike as an idiotic barbarian but those people are unwashed, half-baked assholes.

His knowledge on history and spirituality is incredibly impressive. His street smarts are unparalleled. But today I want to talk about PERSEVERING. And use Mike Tyson’s words as a way to make my point.

We should all aspire to be like the best qualities of Mike Tyson.

Aggressiveness. Brutality. Compassion. Faithfulness to God. Humility in old age.

Sounds like the perfect man to me.

“As long as we persevere and endure, we can get anything we want.” – Mike Tyson

When Mike Tyson grew up, he had nothing. He was a broke ass street bum who hustled and assaulted his way into opportunity. He came from the shits, his mother was a hooker and he was a booze fiend that was most likely gonna end up shot in the NY streets.

All he knew was fighting. But he didn’t even know he could box. That is until he met famed boxing trainer Cus D’Amato who convinced him to do so at a young age after which he adopted him, seeing the raw talent this random street kid had impressed him so much that he was determined to create a champion out of him. The spirit of the warrior was already in his soul.

Besides being a genetic freak, his work ethic was remarkable. He once broke his back during fight camp because he did 2,000 fucking sit ups. Yeah.

“This championship, this was the stuff I dreamt of all my life, and I wasn’t gonna be denied.” – Mike Tyson

Mike Tyson went after his goals like a motherfucking hitman with a ticking clock. He wanted it and he wanted it fast, and he did it. Fast.

Youngest world champ in boxing history.

Made huge amounts of money.

Shattered box office records.

Had a harem of women.

That street kid went from zero to hero.

“That’s what people respect, the fact that I wasn’t a chump that laid on his back and gave up.” – Mike Tyson

Cus D’Amato told Mike Tyson all the time that his destiny was to rule the world until Mike believed it fully.

And then when he did, there was no stopping him.

Believe in yourself and go devour the world.

That’s what I wanna do.

As We Move Towards New World Order

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As the moon shines down on me and I walk through these empty streets in this state of emergency, I feel no sense of urgency.

Toilet paper supply is gone and the people are running scared.

Propaganda spooking people on Channel 12, people dying.

Housewives crying.

Rights are trampled yet again in the name of “security” and it feels like no one ever remembers our history.

But I don’t care.

I dwelled on the negatives and became bitter like Avi, I was so fucking sour like Wasabi.

But that’s how the wretched win. If we let some scumbag bugmen who mass engineer plagues in a lab as tools of anarchy get to our state of being. If we let them dim our light.

Not gonna let them do it. I will stay unaffected by this overhyped catastrophe.

Remain young and full of joy, with no care in the world. Making the best out of a shitty situation. Doing something I haven’t done in ages.

I will defy quarantine. I will roam nature.

The cool wind in my face and that spring weather hitting me like a speeding car. The world isn’t ending. Not for me.

I will continue to enrich mind, spirit and body and steer clear of the wicked.

I will feed ducks in the park!

I had a great reminder that despite all of Satan’s influence on this world, God’s purity still watches over us and no matter how much the House of The Devil tries to bring us down, we can win everytime if we keep the flames alive.

If you take care of your family, you will win.

If you remain with your brothers, you will win.

As long as you still raise your children in the side of light, you will win.

Everyone is going to sleep, but we are still awake.

No one can ever end The Enlightened as long as fire burns in our heart.

May Jesus bless you.

May Allah bless you.

May Elohim the God above bless you.

We aren’t done here. Don’t lose hope.

Fight!

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Has there even been a greater thrill in the history of mankind than getting punched in the face? Fine, maybe depositing your load inside a vag for the first time, but the point still stands.

Fighting in my eyes equals and sometimes even transcends drug induced euphoria. And you all know how much I love that.

There’s something that just feels so right about being involved in physical confrontation. The blood, the scars. It’s like reconnecting with your primal ancestors. Win or lose, you stepped up to the plate and you did battle.

You feel like a goddamn MAN. The boost in endorphins and testosterone has you feeling like a demi-God, a sexual Tyrannosaurus and a professional killer all rolled up into one big masculine package. Cliché, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

I miss my days as an amateur MMA fighter. Hell, I miss my days fighting random kids in school. Everyone needs a modicum of violence in their life. Now I’m not saying you need to beat on strangers in the supermarket, but it would be beneficial to engage in some moderated form of combat.

It makes me sad that there people in this life that never experienced a fight. They’re missing out on one of the true joys of life.

It’s fun and it’s practical! You get to beat up on your homies for shits and giggles, you have an outlet for aggression, you improve your health and you will be prepared in case anyone ever tries to bump you off for some reason.

Stop sleeping on the wonders of fighting and go get punched in the face.

Deep In The Trenches

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Been a while since I posted here.. kept ya waiting huh?

I am gonna share with you some realizations I had in my mind recently after some conversations with my lovable yet clueless friends.

Men are easily the most masochistic gender. Not that they have that much competition in that department considering there are
only TWO genders, but yeah.

Men love to be hurt, that’s why they keep enlisting to fight in the great war that takes place in the battlefield that is love.

You march on to battle, armed with your slightly above average dong hoping for a victory only to be shot through the heart by a Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS looking broad. Yikes.

A rational man (get it?) would probably call it quits and never go into that battle again after such a nasty incident. He would retire. Get a nice house, a car, a 20 year old nympho secretary and a Gym membership, but noooo.

You see, men are not rational. Not most of em, anyway. Not the ones I meet in this soft ass generation. They ALWAYS keep coming back for more. They love the thrill of the fight. It’s not the crushing defeat and emasculating loss they like, it’s the fight itself and the potential of epic victory. A mighty war all in the name of pussy. They take the good with the bad all in the hope of conquering the infamous snatch and making it their own. Taming the lion and eating it out.

Problem is.. very few of the soldiers in this war are ready for such a task. You try to warn them but they never listen. Never have, never will.

Men are men. Boys will be boys. And boys will always lose to women on the battlefield of love. They might win the first act, maybe even the second..

But eventually some young big titty berserker will knock their ass back into submission and step on the balls they once had.

Oh how quickly does one go from busting down dem sugar walls to holding your masters purse at the mall. Love is a motherfucker. When it’s the love of a man at least.

GENTLEMEN, READY YOUR WEAPONS.. TIME TO GO ANOTHER ROUND. ON TO BATTLE!