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The Tudy Chronicles

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“As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster”

-Henry Hill

Who doesn’t want to be a gangster? Think about it for a minute.

You got steady access to top notch cigars, your friends are all ball breaking tough guys, you rob and cheat people out of their money and you get fly bitches despite being fat.

Fugget about it!

In this day and age when the governments cheat and whack us all daily.. who doesn’t want to give it a shot themselves? They can’t have all the fun!

Imagine yourself as a 6’0 wiseguy in floral shirts or a snappy blazer. You walk down Mulberry street with your head held high on your way to shake down innocent ethnics. You lay a few beatings and pay off some witnesses with a few bucks. So much fun.

You’re feared and beloved by misguided youths. They carry your moms bags out of respect. Lovely.

You run a harem of goomars while you have a wife and son at home. Beautiful.

Sure, you have to whack some good people along the way. Some friends you love. Lot of blood on those hands.. Oof madone, but you made an oath. Family first. And it pays. You’re a good soldier. Capo soon, God willing.

I mean, yeah.. Eventually you get pinched. Do time upstate. Lose it all. Probably because some ratfuck sang about you. The same man you invited over to dinner weekly. He hugged your kids.. No big deal.

You get out. Earn again. Rebuild. Wife gone. Kids messed up on the junk.

But there’s always a promotion around the corner. Hoes still sucking you. You’re a legendary hitman. No worries. Life is tight.

If you’re lucky, you reach 55. You’re an old fuck now. That promotion to underboss never came. You’re in a rot. Feds still gunning for your ass. It’s a new world. RICO is a motherfucker.

You become an old timer and an afterthought. No earning for the family, a burden. Hookers and skifooza floozies are your hobby and only skill.

You die of cancer and on your deathbed realize you had it all. The woman you loved is gone and you were better off going legit. Your kids will suffer from your mistakes.

Being a gangster is good.

Was it worth it?

The action, violence, pussy, the cash, the clout, the fear? Being the fucking man?

Would you do it over again?

Hell fucking yeah.

Online Gaming

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It’s Sunday night.. the weather is cool, the steak you had was moderately tasty and you didn’t have a violent vomit attack tonight. Yay.

You spent most of the day drinking tea and taking vitamins, bullying your little brothers along the way in small doses.

Your friends are scumbags and they never wanna go out and when they do they always make you pay for their shit because they are broke and make bad business decisions.

There’s unanswered messages in your IG DMs because there’s girls you are ignoring. They’re being ignored because someone else ignored you so it’s time for your ego to feel good again.

You log into MGO 3 because everything is fucking boring. You play a few matches against some pimple faced Mexican cocksuckers and Italian finooks who rage quit every minute thus making you lose stats you progressed in.

You set up a new server but the fucking WiFi keeps dying so the game once again crashes and you lose even more stats.

You rage and yell and throw shit around because your estrogen is high from TRT.

It’s midnight and you just wanna grab someone, hang him on a tree, violate his girlfriend and flee the authorities on a boat.

You don’t. It’s midnight. Everything is boring.

You contemplate sending a DM to an ex-hoe so she can drain your mammoth balls. Don’t. Not worth it.

Boring. Boring. Boring.

I want a civil war and a sloppy tear filled blowjob. Now.

Lana Del Rey

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The ultimate role model for your run-of-the-mill hoe masquerading as an intelligent bad bitch while living a double life as an ice cream demolishing SSRI abusing semen powered machine.

When Lana said her pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola ® it was a true paradigm shift. She hit a massive spike DDT on our collective generation.

The sheer bravery of this groundbreaking statement, good God.

With her sultry voice and imaginary daddy that sells her coke, nothing was the same. She is responsible for girls giving top notch head worldwide although she probably slurps penile tissue mildly nowadays because she’s already famous and doesn’t need to seduce agents.

I actually like LDR songs because I’m a melancholy man-whore (in theory).

Although in 2021, she needs to go on Keto.. fuck it, I’d still hit.

Why is it that pretty art whores use Lana as a roaring symbol of female excellence while their tight punani is getting invaded on the lowkey by bearded RW bodybuilders?

In the current landscape of sexual dynamics, there is nothing more relatable than a sad used up pretty girl with dead eyes and unfulfilled potential who allegedly lives her best life but yearns for more. Fame can’t replace all the dick that broke your heart and your shitty dad. That’s my perspective which is the only true way to look at it. Shut up and post a seductive selfie that will make me aroused and ruin my day.

She’s an infinitely more rich version of depressed 19 year old white bitches from the Burbs.

God bless Lana Del Rey. Even though she worships Satan and whatever.

Good Morning

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It’s a good day to be alive. It’s yet another step in our global path to Armageddon.

The sun is shining, birds are chirping, my head and testicles are equally in pain and both sport throbbing veins.

You wake up, down some painkillers and sext a barley legal e-girl.

She calls you daddy while her dad spents countless hours tearing up every night because she’s a fucking whore.

You eat some cottage, your gut becomes inflamed and you wanna throw up. You don’t but it hurts so you smoke a gas station cigar. The Cuban one is too pricey to waste right now.

The cheap tobacco clogs your lungs slowly but surly and the horrid taste distracts you from the never-ending pain of 2020.

You post seductive muscle pics to IG and troll some stuck up communist sluts with loose pussies. It’s very fun.

You bully your little brothers because you are bored due to government not letting you leave home because the plan is to kill the spirit of the already broken youth.

Maybe you watch Netflix while daydreaming about the Golden Days of the Mafia.

You go to bed. Can’t sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

Good morning. Fuck you.

Pretend You Can’t See Her

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It’s another night of unrest. Another night of playing this inter-gender game of chess called romance. You flip and turn restlessly thinking about whether or not you made the right play.

You tell yourself that it’s no big deal if you lose her because there will be always be more women. It’s true. But it’s not her.. you wanna eat every fruit in the bowl and that one slipped from your grip.

The missed potential is burned in the back of your mind and phantom pain creeps in every once in a while to send shockwaves through your testicles.

In a perfect world, there would be no games. You tell her you want to spend your lives together. Or maybe you tell her she’s beautiful and charming but you can’t commit and just want to keep things casual. And she would accept it for what it is. No ego. No being left on read or loss of attraction to worry about. Just taking things at face value.

You could tell her in detail about how you wish to cuddle with her during those cold winter nights with a hand between her thighs and her face resting on your broad chest.

Her smiling satisfied face covered in your semen and your itchy beard drenched in her lady juice. You’re both in love. For the rest of your lives. For the night. Whatever.

But it ain’t a perfect world. Instead we fuck around.. we time our DM responses so we don’t seem needy. We tease, mock and refuse to answer anything honestly because we are afraid of being hurt. No one wants to admit how badly they want each other.

I still think about that canceled wine date with….

I still think about that alternative chick I could have vibed to Nirvana with after I blow her back out….

I still think about the crazy girl that sent me nudes that I never got to meet up because I pissed her off….

I still think about that girl I message here and there but can’t find the nutsack to be upfront with….

So I just pretend I don’t see her. Pretend I don’t miss her.

Current Year Blues

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I was born in the wrong decade. About 40 years too late to my estimation.

Now I know every edgy neglected teenager likes to claim he missed the golden years because everything now sucks sweaty ass cheeks, but honestly.. I really did miss it.
Born too late for World War 2 and missed my chance to have bullets pierce my pale skin in the bloody trenches.
Born too late to witness the genesis of the sexual revolution where loose women would have dropped acid with me and gave me tooth-filled blowjobs before vomiting from an overdose..
Born too late for 1980s New York City where the mob ruled the state with an iron fist and you couldn’t enter Copacabana without brushing shoulders with a capo and his goomah..
You get the point I’m trying to make, right?
Yes you do, folks.
[CURRENT YEAR] sucks uncircumcised cock. I am stuck in the generation of faggy selfies, sex bots and OnlyFans.

Bitching about it is pointless but I can’t sleep so fuck off.

We now live in a time where genuine connection between humans keeps alluding us and is replaced by texting.
A time where the family unit is being raped before our very eyes.
A time where honor and masculinity is just another buzzword used for virtue signaling and gaining favor with people you plan to scam.
A time where my fucking olive oil is being replaced with canola.

What the fuck is going on in planet earth?
How did we lose it all so quickly?
Shit, maybe dictatorship wasn’t such a bad idea.

We really can’t be trusted with our freedom.
I cry out for the days where we hunted bears and hung out with chimps before going to our wholesome little cave of a house to fuck the shit out of our thick skulled cavewoman.
Yeah, I know it’s highly likely I would have been stomped to death by a T-Rex.. who cares? At least I wouldn’t be able to lose my job and digital bank account for calling a hermaphrodite a grade A cunt.

I am not in favor of being blackpilled whatsoever, but damn it.. I really sympathize with those who are knees deep in the river of shit called modernity.

The only things keeping me sane in this horrid time period is being able to lift weights, being able to flirt with big buzzom women and see their tits, being able to experiment with illegal chemicals and the option of potentially stabbing someone in an alley should he piss me off.

Life isn’t all that bad though, as long as you spiritually stay strong and avoid Satan’s traps as much as you can..
If you can still bench press, life is still good.
If you still got the money to buy a private island and tanks, life is still good.
If you got at least ONE decent friend, life is still good.
If you read this blog and think I am half-way interesting or wise, life is still good.

Life is still good, right?
You know we’re allowed to vent, bitch and moan here and there because I fucking said we can.
Life ain’t all roses and pink pussy. Shit’s rough.
But we get through.
We all make it.
That’s life.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted (Hypocritical) Fantasy

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I say I want to live in a world where peace and equality are important values and everyone is free to live life their own way.

Fantasy.

I want to live in a world where only the strong survive and anyone who stands in my way is snuffed out and suffocated.

Fantasy.

I say I want society to be less materialistic and that people should be showing more humility.

Fantasy.

I want to buy fancy suits, expensive cars and blow cigar smoke in poor people’s face.

Fantasy.

I say I want monogamy to make a comeback and that we should all settle down with a nice traditional housewife and spawn twenty five kids.

Fantasy.

I want to creampie liberal art hoe sluts in a dirty alley and never call them back.

Fantasy.

I say criminals and mafiosos are scumbags and shouldn’t be idolized.

Fantasy.

I want to shoot people dead like Tony.

Fantasy.

No one man should ever have all that power and I will never ever let you live this down.

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.