The retard's handshake

Thursday, 17 May, Year 10 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

Some months ago a puzzling event occurred, which I've recently managed to make sense of ; but let's follow the historical flow rather than getting ahead of ourselves.

So, I was visting the residence of a... friend, let's sayi. The girls are generally naked when I'm around, and this case was no exception ; nor does it make all that much difference whether she plays my escort or my agent (and why would it ?!). To quote randomly from the slut list, "Are you kidding me ? Casual nudity is great!"

But it was also a warm sunny day, and the condo where the events took place had an airy, relaxed plan, so the door was left open. To quote randomly from the psychopath list, "I like to encourage intruders."

As it happens at this time the neighbouring flat was occupied by some dorky young kid, and as it further happened he had some visitors, of his age and from his milieu (I don't specifically know, but I assume -- not entirely arbitrarily -- call center fare or thereabouts). One of these, a girly, wandered in through the wrong door, and was confronted with... well... naked girls sitting around. Not exactly


but mostly because no confort to be sought in numbers on the girlish side ; otherwise the bounds that bind, as invisible in either case, are nevertheless quite equally present in either case.

So what do you suppose girly does, after taking one wrong turn and ending up accidentally going through a portal she didn't know was thereii ?

Run off, you say ?

Oh, but how wrong you are. First, the thing she did first, was protest her presence with fake awkwardness. She received in response the bemused curiosity of some women and a guy that saw absolutely nothing wrong with the situation : another one of these adolescentine horrors, taking her first toddler steps towards maturation. Then, and only then, she took to her heels. She ran off so quick demonraiders from the gaping chasm of hell itself couldn't have caught up with her ; but only after she had some idle time to spare.

I didn't realise what the salient characteristics were in the above case until recently, when some dorky chick on fetlife put up as an image a screenshot of her mobile with my bot asking her to set aside the things of childhood and move into womanhood already. I know she did this because she tagged me by name, and the site produces a notification. So I went over and added a "Sure" comment, under however many transparent if inept attempts at white knighting by the usual sort of "dom", profiles chock full of them fucking what appears a rubber ducklingiii. Then she blocked me. Not before, see. This supposed woman, that supposedly wants nothing absolutely to do with me, was nevertheless (and "inexplicably") begging for my attention a minute before. What gives ?!

Here's what gives : have you ever seen any, and I do mean any film in which the Deus-ex-machina pairmaking wasn't signalled by the very fucking words "I wanted to apologize" ? You know, don't you, somewhere deep down, unexamined, perhaps, but crystal fucking clear, that the modern cinematic equation is "no apology"=="no relationship", much exactly in the same way "mentioning the word vaginaiv, howsoever inappropriately"=="high value cultural and debonaire cool". Yes ?

So then! Girly was waiting ~for us to apologize~. Then we could have been friends, see. That's the retard handshake, she makes some noises, you "make her feel comfortable", she'll do anything (from the list Clinton gave her, of course).

There, now you understand how retards work : it's not Syn-Ack, it's Awk-Apl. And now you understand why computers are getting the vote, too. And other things.

In closing, I leave you with

LenoreArtemisv 23F pet Apparently you have a reputation of messaging girls. Desperate much?

LordMPofTMSR Generous, rather.

LenoreArtemis No. Desperate. Pathetic. Lonely. Disturbing. Just by how you think you’re so amazing just proves how much you’re

LordMPofTMSR Eh get over yourself. Nobody cares, seriously.

LenoreArtemis Reported.vii Have a good day. :)

See ?

  1. Slave at large, shiva hand of my lordship, criminal conspirator/terrorist, "A playwright, poet, translation and fiction writer from the Republican era"... whatever do you call these ? And what's your calling supposed to do for them ?

    Speaking of which, anyone notice before someone's cut four of alf's arms sometime between the 2014 above and early 2015 ? []

  2. A world indeed she knew couldn't exist, so said her mula and therefore so it is!!! []
  3. Unless, of course, one's willing to put in the effort to discern it's not ~actually~ a rubber duckling, in the limited sense that it exactly is, a small piece of colorful plastic. But it wasn't intended for use as a rubber duckling, or as a chew toy for someone's dog. It was intended (and consequently labeled!) as a fuck toy for the sort of "dom" the idiot pre-women of fetlife produce secrete. God help the entire echafaudage should a label maker fail somewhere in Shenzen. []
  4. Originally this read "cunt", because I got confused. No, what they say is "vagina", and irritatingly always referring to either the vulva or the whole apparatus. []
  5. Some chick petrified enough of the great outside, her profile consists of some drawing. []
  6. Best magic ever, "the faster your car goes the not cool it is!!!!". If only she could parasitize interpretationally the strictures of reality, how well her Irigaray alt-physics would work!!! []
  7. She doesn't think in terms of "here I sit flinging insults at random people". She thinks in terms of "my handshake failed, now the Mommy must come and set things right".

    Evidently, she's never been spanked -- I don't mean scene-spanked. I mean educationally spanked -- with no choice and with no recourse available. []

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12 Responses

  1. > ...sometime between the 2014 above and early 2015 ?

    Fortunately not cut, but rather -- filled. Conceivably may one day empty again...

  2. Mircea Popescu`s avatar
    Mircea Popescu 
    Thursday, 17 May 2018


  1. [...] DUH) -- but because I don't like the crap on my blog. D'uh. [↩]That's part of the pantsuit retard handshake, the "accusing someone of assuming" bit. You're supposed to bla bla. It's like old style religious [...]

  2. [...] yes, the occasional fatties straggling in with their momsters to sorta-maybe-notrly try things were very bothered by us and cleared the fuck out ; good [...]

  3. [...] imperative within the structure of typically pantsuit power-of-suspension-of-disbelief attempted handshakes marks her as the worst kind of fucktard just like "Sir, I will need you to..." marks out the lowly [...]

  4. [...] poorly socialized females misperceive imaginary optionality as available and open to them, thereby delaying their maturation past the point where their own biology can support it. This is the exact same failure mode seen in [...]

  5. [...] as it ever was, leaving their choices and expressions still standing, unlike the competitor's idle, girl-coddling crap. [↩]Properly speaking "free" as in stupidity, not really (and certainly not perdurantly) [...]

  6. [...] the elohim anarchist, the unyielding force of will entirely rationalized. Her, or him, or him, or her, or any of the all of them, the exact same thing : barely literate, to the very unsatisfactory [...]

  7. [...] blink of an eye even though my calendar informs me it exceeded a decade. Nothing can long survive "speeds much more important to us", once you take rape out of the classroom there's scarcely any point to pretend you'll ever see hot [...]

  8. [...] you know this word ? At about the time "awesome" became the meaningless token of ready retards' handshakes, "gnarly" became some kind of its polar opposite. A word for the unpleasant, vaguely nauseating [...]

  9. [...] the beach that the bimbo approached randomly in the street failed to get herself picked up through the usual methodology -- yet another perfectly acceptable piece of ass going to perfect waste through "personal choice" [...]

  10. [...] Clearly there's a Petrus involved somewhere (such as in taking the pictures, writing die Englisch, waking her in the morning, taking her to work, all that jazz). The derpy chick depicted would never of her own be mentally organised or altogether cogent enough to even comprehend what "her best times" means, certainly not past a vague, intrinsically unactionable mist. [...]

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