Stop Letting Your Masters in Politics and the Media Talk to You Like You’re in 6th Grade


Stop letting your masters treat you like a child, and start enjoying life like a man – doing what you want to do, not what they want you to do

You might have scoffed as you read that headline. But nothing could be more painfully true. The elite, and their political prostitutes as well as the marketing/media marionettes on their payroll consider you nothing more than a simple-minded dupe who will impulsively and automatically consume their lies and wares. And, they assume, you’ll do stay locked in this cycle with machine-like precision.

They literally talk to you like you’re in the 6th grade.

I now recoil in disgust each time I see an ad and realize what a low opinion of consumers corporations have. The canned humor. The farcical nature of it all. The glibness. The push to make people competitively consume. I was force-fed an ad last week on YouTube that told people they needed to “Win breakfast” at their office, as if eating yet more high calorie, trash food was some sort of victory. WTF?

I also recoil in disgust when I hear politicians go into homilies about ‘Murica and better days ahead and how they’re going to fix everything. Better not hold your breath. Start fixing your own life because these fucks aren’t going to do anything but enrich themselves at your expense.

When I worked in the mainstream media I was regularly told to write script for 6th grade comprehension. In other words, cater to the lowest common denominator and never try to raise the bar. Naturally, I didn’t fit in well with that mentality and regularly had my scripts for news reports heavily revised by soggy looking editors who were usually overweight, and almost always duplicitous motherfuckers you couldn’t trust as far as you could throw them.

Stepping outside the narrative was, of course, verboten even though the management always told us to be creative and original as we repackaged the same pile of shit for mass consumption on the airwaves. Perhaps more importantly, we always distracted viewers with sideshows about nothing rather than telling them the really important things that are going on in society. Like the West being conquered by invaders, men and women merging into one sexless glob and bankers turning the entire world into slaves of their financial schemes.

The point is, why do people let politicians and mediaites talk down to them in this manner? Do they even realize they’re adults who are being treated like children by McDonald’s, Microsoft, Ford, and their Congressman?

The deal is, most of the time, the people who formulate dreck like this – then shovel it into our eyes and ears like so much manure – are right. Men like us are anomalies. This garbage is exactly what pacifies John and Jane Q. Public.

The problem is, this low mentality is dragging men like us down with the idiots who passive accept this ersatz reality. The system is designed around operating to serve and take advantage of people with low intelligence, low ambition, and low comprehension. I see them every day as I drive around America, weighing a deuce fifty on average, lumbering around like zombies pushing out carts of crap from the big box stores and cramming the slow death of fast food into their pie holes.

I can definitely see the temptation the power structure has to treat people like this, even if it disgusts me. The system plans the average person’s life out for them, tells them what to think and how to live and what to buy as if they were children, and they obey even as their rights, freedoms, and range of movement is curtailed one straw on the camel’s back at a time.

This happens every day on TV, in movies, and on the radio. These business models do not run on the people operating them being sterling human beings with a concern about the little man. They operate on convincing millions to buy things they don’t need, with money they don’t have, to impress people they don’t like, in between deluding them to spend a third of their lives at work trying to buy things to make themselves forget they’re spending a third of their life at work. Oh, and don’t forget, kiddos…go press “D” or “R” at the voting booth.

What happens to those of us who don’t want to be dragged into that hell? Tough luck.

But, there are things men like us can do to cleanse the filth of media manipulation from our lives. I’m going on two years TV-free and I’d recommend all other Red Pill men do the same. Minimize contact with the alternate reality that is media and advertising and watch your life cleanse itself. One doesn’t realize how insidious the illusions of the power structure are until they stop watching and listening.

The true zombie apocalypse is happening right in front of your eyes, not on The Walking Dead. Stop letting these people treat you like a child.

I’d never be riding motorcycles, fucking with cute, skinny girls, going to naked bars, dating women half my age, drinking Caipirinhas, going to rock concerts, living abroad in a simple apartment by the sea, driving a nearly 20-year old “classic” hot rod, driving a truck coast to coast once every year or two and living on the road while I pump and dump the economy – watching money pile up in my bank account – if I still had the influence of what the system wants out of me in my life.

You, dear reader, can do the same. All it takes is turning their messages off.

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The Digital Vagabond Series: Banging Nikki the Hood Chick


Hood chicks can be incredible fun

Hi, my name is Johnny Roadmaster. I am a fictional character, Rel’s “alter ego” of sorts and I roam America as a digital vagabond in the early 21st century. I’ll be sharing some of my stories of adventure and sexual conquest with you. My first installment is one of my favorite memories from the past year.

Here goes…

So, I find myself in Portland, stuck there because I’ve run out of DOT hours in my big rig. I decide to spend the night on the bad side of town, parked beside a series of bars. I specifically picked out this area, since I’ve had extensive experience running around on the so-called “bad side of town” in cities nationwide.

Let me tell you, the bad side of town is where all the fun is.

I pick the second bar in the row of bars. It was run-down looking from the outside. Aged bricks that had seen better days, industrial plants nearby, broken streets, dingy windows. Perfect.

It wasn’t long, about an hour into the night, after I had talked to a couple of other chicks already I saw the girl who I would later know as “Nikki” walk in the door. I had a good-looking, if plump black girl already sitting with me, but Nikki caught my attention. I like slim black girls, and Nikki fit the bill in that and many other ways. Hood chicks are always up for some fun, and I knew she was the girl I was looking for from the moment I saw her.

I politely dismiss the plump girl, and make a beeline to Nikki. A man has got to move aggressively, not sit around and wait to be noticed.

She was dressed seductively. Short, dark skin, nicely groomed, with perky little B-cup titties and a taut ass. I knew this chick was trouble, but in a fun-loving, warm-hearted way. Exactly the kind of chick that turns me on the most. I have been fooling around with chicks like her since my early 20s.

Immediately, I knew what she was looking for. She had a tattoo across her chest, just above her tits written in cursive that said, “Love.”

Our eyes met. There’s just an energy that can’t be described when a white man and a black woman meet and are sexually interested in each other from the moment they meet. Maybe it’s the taboo aspect. Maybe it’s hypergamy. Maybe it’s just raw sexual emotion. Who knows. But it sure feels good inside.

She knew what I wanted and I knew what she wanted. I wanted to tap that ass and she wanted my money. Nothing new, as that’s how the sexes have been bartering with each other since the beginning.

So, we exchanged the usual pleasantries.

“What’s your name?”


“Where are you from?”

“Originally from Houston but I relocated to Portland recently.”

“You look like you like to party, Nikki.”

“Oh, I do, boo.”

“I guess you saw I dropped the other girl to come and talk to you.”

“Yes, I was watching to see what you all were doing together.”

It wasn’t long after a couple of Tennessee Honey shots I had my arm around her and she had her arm on my leg. We bullshitted, and enjoyed each other’s company, the liquor dulling any inhibitions we might have had.

I asked, “I know what you’re doing here. So how much will it be?”

She didn’t waste any time. She paused for a minute, then looked into my blue eyes with her sexy dark eyes.


“That’s too much…I work hard for my money. I’ll give you $100.”

After hesitating for a moment, she said, “Ok, boo. I like you. You make me laugh. Let’s go.”

So, we find a dark corner of the club, where we can be secluded. We start kissing, and I begin embracing and hugging her taut little body with my masculine hands. It is such an adventure to explore a new girl, especially when you’ve just met and there’s mutual interest, beyond the sexual barter.

I pull a pretty little chocolate nipple out of a red bra and start sucking on it. She moans and obviously enjoys it. After a few minutes on the right nipple, I move to the left. Before I know it her breasts are out and her panties are off. I move quickly. I slip my finger inside, it feels good in there. Best of all, a few minutes later a hidden motion reveas to me her vagina smells clean. Clean enough to eat.

She then takes my underwear off and gives me some oral stimulation, and I’m already rock hard before she pulls it out. After a few minutes watching her head bob up and down while I grab her hair, I pull her little body up and tell her to stand up on the chair we’re making out on. She’s a little confused. I tell her not to worry.

“Come here, let me taste you.”

I give her coochie another hidden sniff first, and all seemed well. A man’s gotta know before he puts his mouth on something. I wanted to taste her. I stick my tongue out to sample that pretty little chocolate box. It tasted good. I proceed to eat her for a good 5 minutes, and I can tell my technique is turning her on.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks.

“No. This is your line of work, I figured you’d have one,” I respond.

“We really need to have one. I can go get one.”

“Are you clean?”

She fires back, “Hell yeah I’m clean!”

“Well, fuck it. Just stick it in. I won’t shoot in you.”

She hesitates for a moment. So do I. What had we just discussed? What were we about to do? I didn’t know this girl. Then next thing I know, I feel her hand grabbing my manhood and sliding it inside that tight chocolate box, Nikki still on top of me and the taste of her sexuality in my mouth.

Damn it felt good. Not only being inside this sexy little hood chick but the risk of what we were doing. Doing it bareback in a dark corner of the club, some chick I just met less than half an hour ago.

The intensity builds. I wrap my arms around her us pumping each other reaches a manic frenzy. I’ve had lots of sex, and this moment was incredibly hot. I didn’t want it to end. A few minutes into the session, I feel myself about to finish. I suddenly stop our rhythmic sexual dance.

“What’s wrong, boo?”

“I’m about to finish.”


After I feel I’ve regained control, we start up again. We go on a good 10 minutes, never tiring of this single position. Finally, I feel her contracting inside and she lets out a moan. About the time she gets off, so do I. I hesitate, as I enjoy nothing more than putting cream into coffee, but think about the consquences if I knock her up…then push her up and off of me just as I explode.

Treating me with more respect than many girls I’ve dated and invested much more of my time and money into, she helps clean up. She then tells me she doesn’t even want my money. But she does want my friendship.

As we continue talking after our romp, I still notice something sweet about her, something most men will never see in a chick like this. Something that draws me to her, a decency and realness I seldom see in women. We end up drinking together for several more hours, exchanging numbers, before I vanish back into the ether of the night.

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Eye Candy of the Week | June 25, 2017

What a cutie! This week’s model knows how to pose seductively, too. More Western women could have a body like this if they would stop their recreational eating addiction. Enjoy our Eye Candy of the Week for June 25, 2017 as we admire the female form while remembering the truth about women.

sexy woman in seductive black lingerie sitting on a couch in stockings

sexy woman in seductive black lingerie lying on a couch in stockings

sexy woman in seductive black lingerie sitting on a couch in stockings

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How Does She Benefit Me?

Sensual beautiful young couple is having sex on bed

It’s time for men to start asking a question females always have on their minds

It’s a well-established fact women only see men as meal tickets, disposable utility and success objects, and entertainers. Hypergamy – the fact women only look upward in status when dating and marrying –  results from this aforementioned aspect of female psychology.

Women always ask themselves, whether consciously or unconsciously: How does this man benefit me? Unfortunately, most men are all too willing to be used and objectified in this manner. Weak or unawakened men try to bend themselves into a pretzel to make themselves beneficial to women then act surprised when they wind up used.

Beta males/White Knights, and those lower in the Socio-Sexual Hierarchy are always willing to appease women, turning themselves into the human equivalent of an overeager Chihuahua puppy wagging its tail, barking, and staring because his master has a fresh piece of red meat in his hand. Women dangle the figurative red meat known as their sexuality in front of hungry eyes to get what they want, then never give the poor bastard the reward. Or, only let him taste it while cruelly removing the treat from his mouth at a later date.

The awakened, reformed man (or a natural Sigma/Alpha) doesn’t behave like the Chihuahua. For those still going through the painful initial stages of reform after swallowing the Red Pill, here’s some advice.

Always ask yourself the same question women ask themselves: How does she benefit me? This is really the only way to look at women, as lots of experience with them will teach a man they’re more base, animalistic, and less evolved than he is. In many ways, they’re prototype humans, and men are the finished product.

Hardly the goddesses this culture proclaims them to be, underneath the well-practiced exterior façade you’ll find a creature that thinks only of itself, its pleasure and its material well-being. Male traits like ingenuity, loyalty, self-sacrifice and searching for intrinsic happiness (the opposite of materialism) are not a language it speaks.

The problem, when men ask themselves “How does she benefit me?” is modern Anglo women provide very few benefits and a whole lotta baggage. Mountains of cellulite, emotional manipulation, financial exploitation, and other baggage. Let’s go over some of their benefits:

  • Sex (Except when she’s “not in the mood”)
  • Subpar companionship

Now let’s go over some of their baggage:

  • Frivorce
  • Child support penury
  • Alimony (All The Money as Robin Williams called it)
  • High divorce rate
  • Statistically sterile i.e. doesn’t want or like children
  • Solipsism
  • Victim mentality
  • Gossip
  • Predatory nature (Women hunt men, men hunt resources)
  • Uninteresting personalities
  • Bitchy
  • Glib
  • Superficial/shallow personalities
  • Materialistic (Madonna’s smash hit Material Girl nailed female nature)
  • Flighty
  • Disloyal
  • Legally superior to men in the court system
  • Doesn’t know how to cook
  • Often has manly personality characteristics
  • Doesn’t like being a woman
  • Bleached/technicolor hair
  • 2/3 are overweight or obese
  • Has had more wieners than the Oscar Meyer truck
  • Doesn’t date/marry across or down in status, only up

Frankly, this is why bills legalizing prostitution need to be passed yesterday in Anglo American legislatures. That’s way too much bullshit for the average man to put up with for a few minutes of sexual pleasure every few days. Renting consensual sex between two willing adults lets men get subpar companionship and sex without taking on all the baggage that comes with today’s female. Nevada is apparently the only state in the union that realizes this.

What is sex doing on the black market anyway? Why must this culture hide the world’s oldest profession and oppress heterosexual men?

Beyond legalizing the sex trade, the awakened man will begin to look at women differently when he sees there’s much more than meets the eye that comes with the Anglo female package – that may be pleasing to the eye and the penis – but detrimental to every other aspect of his life. He begins to realize what horrible deals most men accept and what horrible treatment they accept from women to temporarily be entertainers and success objects in their lives.

The short answer to the question “How does she benefit me?” or “What does she have to offer?” is: Not much, brother. Since the sexual devolution, women are free to roam the landscape as predators of men with impunity. There are no longer cultural or legal consequences for women completely exploiting men in this day and age.

Each instance is met with a vapid “YouGoGrrl!”

Sure, Game might get you inside the love box, but you had better know what you’re dealing with. A man that practices Game must never allow himself to fall in love or become deluded with the fantasy he can practice Game well enough to keep her around. Because, sooner or later he will slip up or grow tired of constantly putting her in her place and dealing with her drama. It’s at that point he’ll be put through the emotional, legal, and financial meat grinder.

As has been said before at TNMM, the true irony of feminism and the sexual devolution is it turned women into the sex objects they purportedly can’t stand being. All without women even realizing it. What a paradox!

Since their “magical” wet hole is all modern Anglo women are good for after feminism wrecked any other value they might provide, men need to ask themselves questions like: Would she give good head? Would she ride me good when she’s on top? Could I stand being around her longer than a couple of hours? If she’s drinking, does her bitch shield get turned down to DEFCON 3? Do not ask: What could I do to benefit her?

If you want a woman that brings a little more than a vagina and a list of demands to the table, better look somewhere else. Or, reform this insane culture. Good luck with that.

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The Tough-Talking, ‘Murica Loving President: The Acting Role of a Lifetime


Best buddies, then suddenly, worst enemies – a storyline befitting a soap opera

Trump is full of hot air.

That’s the conclusion many are coming to after observing, with an unjaundiced eye, what he’s been doing while in office. Trump has either been compromised by the military-industrial complex and Deep State, or he’s playing the role of a lifetime as scripted for him by the power structure from the beginning.

My hunch is on the latter.

The NBC television star turned President has gone from playing the badass boss on The Apprentice to playing the badass boss of America. Trump’s role is to play the deplorables’ tough-talking, ‘Murica-loving President, appeasing the gelatinous blob of shopping and eating machines known as average voters while the globalist agenda chugs along unnoticed by them – but happening right in front of their myopic eyes. The Don is tasked with keeping them distracted with MAGA, flag-waving, tough-talking homilies while continuing the agenda of the globalists behind the scenes.

Evidence is mounting this New York liberal suddenly turned conservative is doing to the right what Obama did to the left – fool them, cruelly and with stunning sophistry. Just as liberals thought Obama walked on water as he earned Nobel Peace Prizes while dropping bombs, gave them “free” healthcare that in reality cost them the farm, and preached about unity while pursuing policies of racial divide and conquer, conservatives also think Trump walks on water.

His signature campaign promise – the border wall – is, at best, in limbo. Notice Trump doesn’t talk about it anymore. He promised to “repeal and replace” Obamacare, then did a victory lap when a RINO Congress only polished the turd known as Obamacare. He said he was a globalist (and a nationalist – huh?) in late April. He convinced conservatives they won by pulling out of the Paris global warming accords but the hidden truth is he’s only renegotiating the deal on global taxation and wealth redistribution. He’s going to be rewarding Silicon Valley with more H1B visas, lowering wages for the American worker and bringing in even more immigrants. The techies, who bashed The Don relentlessly during the campaign just came out of George Soros-linked Jared Kushner’s office singing his praises. Trump’s military just shot down a Syrian aircraft fighting ISIS, riling Russia and making it even more obvious than it already was the US is playing the War on Terror from both sides.

Yet, you talk to the average Trump supporter and they’re oblivious about any of this. They only see the shadows on the wall in Plato’s cave, never the puppet masters. They cling to the cult of personality around Trump with Jesus-like fervor.

All I know is, there’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach about this character. I didn’t vote in 2016 for either candidate. I am prouder of that decision now than ever before. Something just seemed “too good to be true” about Trump falling out of the sky to give a last minute, Hail Mary touchdown victory to the average American wanting to see their country maintain its sovereignty and stop its further slide into  becoming the modern day polyglot boarding house Teddy Roosevelt warned about.

Let’s do a thought experiment. Remember, just weeks before Trump announced his candidacy he had a hush-hush, closed door, secret meeting with Bill Clinton. One could imagine their discussion going something like this.

Bill: “The power structure has seen you like acting, Don. You’ve had a successful series on NBC playing the tough-talking boss. But now, you have the opportunity to land the acting role of a lifetime.”

Don: “Beautiful, it’s just beautiful. The show The Apprentice was beautiful, and what I think you’re getting ready to tell me is beautiful.”

Bill: “How would you like to play the tough-talking President? The plan for the next election is to reword Hope and Change into something like Make America Great Again. Those phrases poll well with the rabble out there. And you get to be the actor. Best of all, you get to play the villain in the campaign.”

Don: “That’s tremendous. Just tremendous. I think I could step into that tremendous role.”

Bill: “I envy you, Don. I always wanted to play the bad guy. My globalist friends want you to steam up the deplorables out there, stoking their wildest fantasies. They’ll be so enamored of your tough-talking image and devil-may-care attitude, they’ll never realize what you’re actually doing when it comes to policy.”

And voila, a couple of years later he’s in office and nothing of substance has changed or appears it will change. The Trumpbots are just as clueless as the Obamabots were. As we would say in the news and public relations business, Trump is a master of branding.

People are emotional creatures, not rational ones.

How else does one explain the fact that no matter who we elect, no matter what they say, the same things happen, and nothing changes except window dressing? Don’t expect Trump to Make America Great Again, when in reality, he will do so only in the minds of those who can’t see reality. Meanwhile, the country continues it inexorable decline.

Memo to the clueless American voter: You’ve been had, once again.

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