Your Little Crack Whore!

Have you ever done drugs, felt the rush speeding down a highway while your mate scoops heaps of silvery white powder into a straw, snorting, the feeling of it crashing straight into your mind, burning as you bend between the traffic, laughter as you scream your pleasure at the stagnant world…

Drugs.

A parent’s greatest fear… That their screwed up, overfed / middle class / piece of shit child might end up doing it. How would you deal with the bratling that fell from your loins doing this? How exactly would you make sure that you save your little fucktard?

 Recently I got stuck in a situation where I needed to listen to this bitch going on and on about how she will teach her children – that being only possible by the chance that a retard over-indulges with a fuckload of tequila / mescaline and accidentally impregnates her – by forcing them to watch popular “anti-establishment” drug related movies such as Requiem for a dream, Trainspotting, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. 

The basis of her fucktardation being that their fear of becoming this poison will ultimately save them from the temptations of narcotic bliss. That by showing them the worst they would never get tempted into the possibility of exploring it whatsoever…

 These movies will introduce your children to the worst, but guess what, that is not who they will ultimately meet…

 The person your child will meet – be it your daughter’s friend’s ‘dreamy’ older crack-loving brother, or your son’s dodge buddy that seems wise and worldly to him –  will not resemble that ‘ass to ass’ crackjob that you introduced them to in the movies. The person they meet will mesmerise them, teach them things they could never imagine. Recreational drug users do not look like scum, they’re not dirty, and they do not look like bacteria-infested-public-bathroom-licking-shit-stains.

They look like you!

And THEY will not lie to your children!

 A ‘drug’ is a very diverse and interesting kind of creature, even the worst has seen so much and lived through immeasurable amounts of weirdness. A ‘drug’ has done things that you would never understand. This is what makes them truly dangerous. Their level of understanding of your disenfranchised stripling, forges nearly immediate bonds of trust – at least from your little rat-dropping’s point of view.

 One conversation will completely destroy your child’s perceptions and reveal your distortions of the truth. It will utterly decimate the world that you constructed for your seedling. They will see everything you’ve ever told them as a gross embellishment of reality, trust trampled by what your little attention-starved-mutant sees as understanding from his new friend, the ‘drug’.

So…What is the true gateway?

 YOUR LIES!

 YOUR LIES will be why your children lose themselves to pieces of excrement, tempting them into being their next drug runners. By convincing your children that all drug users are monsters you’re making them believe in complete tripe, ultimately forcing them irrevocably closer to the problem, since the only kinship they feel is towards the ‘drug’. To a lonely child – like every little please fuck / love-me dependant teen – kinship is all they aspire to. Friendship easily abused by the crack-whores hunting for their next fix-cash-cow. By lying to your children you leave them open to the enchantment of cheap corner drugs!

 Drugs do not ruin people.

Your lies, they shine through parents!

Your imaginative failure to connect leaves your children fapping in the wind of reality. By avoiding the truth of substances and introducing your clinically-retarded-spawn to the worst, you do them a disservice, leaving them as prey, fending for themselves…

 

…alone…

 

Oneindiglik Mpumalanga

Waar is dit?
Waar is die angsaanjaende kettings wat my siel vasgegespe het hier?
Die bloed waarmee ek bedek is?
Ek wens dit was myne.
Die bloed…bloed
HIERDIE BLOED!!!!

Die lang draaie en plat vervelige pad is uiteindelik agter ons, en twee ure buite Pretoria begin die wêreld waarlik mooi word. As dit nie vir die verdomde tolhekke en slegte sein was nie sou ek elke dag hier wou wees. Ja-nee…‘smartphone’ se fokken gat!

Die begin van die Drakensberge lê voor ons met kronkelende paaie wat op en af, sy tot sy deur die laeveld soos ‘n slang seil. Die asemrowende hange van die berge, die riviere en watervalle wat die wêreld deursny. Eeue se geheime word bedek deur bome soos ‘n groen sagte mat…

Dis hare, my geliefde s’n…
Háár bloed is oor my gesmeer, selfs oor my gesig.
Die koper smaak van haar lewens-stof brand my tong soos dit in my keel af forseer word.
Ek wil braak.
Ek hyg na asem maar meer en meer vloei my binne!

‘n Naweek weg na Nelspruit, ‘n rustige naweek van bietjie gemakliker lewe. Die kar was al gepak na werk en dadelik is ons weg, geen idee waar ons gaan slaap nie, geen planne… Net ons, die pad en die natuur. Die wêreld verken met ‘n padkaart, petrol en ‘n handjie vol geld. Bietjie lekker ‘Afrikana’ beleef – soos hulle dit deesdae noem.

Eerste stop op Waterfal Bowen vir sigarette, coke en ‘n lekker lag. “Damnit maar diè plek is ‘zef’”, lag ons so saam. “Almal is walglik vet! Sies!” Energie drankie t-shirts en sif sweetpak broeke.

Die dorpie self lyk of dit heeltemal vergete gelos was na die koms van ons nuwe Suid-Afrika. Geroeste karre verswelg in digte gras, winkels sonder ligte wat ‘n bose gevoel afgee, maar steeds is die kassiere darem heel vriendlik…

Verblind!
My arms onwillig om te beweeg, my hande onwillig om die rooi van my oë te vee.
As ek net kon sien, as ek net kon weet…
Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop.
Daai ongoddelike klank!

Deur die tonnel en jy word afgelei na ‘n wêreld wat mens betower, die kranse hang oor jou soos lank vergete kregters wat die valei beskerm, en soms is die enigste teken van die mens se bestaan die treinstasies wat sporadies verskyn, en hier en daar ‘n bordjie wat jou vertel hoe mooi hierdie of daardie plaas is. Ongelukkig moes ons die motor se vensters toe hou, ‘n vieslike stank word gedra op die winde.

So ‘n magiese wêreld, versmeer met die gif van ‘n papier fabriek.

Ons draai eerder weg, ‘n padjie wat oplei in die berge in – die bome sal daai stank verweider.

Op en op teen die berg se mure klim ons, dieper en dieper tussen die digte bome. Vergeet die laeveld, kom ons gaan beskou die hemele!

Donker wolke hang laag voor ons soos wat ons styg. Reën gaan die wêreld nou nie makliker maak nie, maar haas het ons nie. Daar sal sekerlik naby ‘n herberg wees vir ons. ‘n Plekkie om die nat te vermy.

Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop.
Die ongoddelike klank van die hoewe.
Die klank is orals so saam met die rooi.
Die onmenslikheid van daai hoewe wat hul dra, ‘n waarskuwing dat hul weer nader!!!

Die reën breek en verdwyn, breek en verdwyn, so saam die donker wat verby sweef en tussen die water is daar mis. Die paaie draai erg, kan geen kant maak van waar ons ry nie. Kar ligte raak skaars die kat ogies wat daar moet wees iewers in die duister. Elke nou en dan spring ‘n vergete padteken uit na jou. Waarskuwings van ‘n skerp draai, klip stortings en…wat? Wilde perde? Wilde perde! En die bordjie is nogal ge-sponser deur Coca-Cola! Eerste keer in omtrent ‘n uur wat ons lag.

Nader en nader…
Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop.
Nader todat dit oorverdowend dreun.
Die gedreun, rooi en die koper smaak.
Ek is swak, magteloos – vrees skreeu deur my soos wat ysige hande oor my lyf begin gly, ysige hande wat my vleis toets…

Daar is niks in die donker, net die skynsel van die middlestreep twee meter voor die kar. En…perde? Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop, fyn in die agtergrond. Nader en nader – klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop.

Reg voor ons!
Swaai, rubber kners, stuurwiel spin.
Verlore in tyd kom die slag nader en nader…

Dan…STILTE…

Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop,
Meer, nader,
wat gaan aan?
Yskoue hande toets my vel, soos ‘n slagkalf terwyl hulle die snitte kies!
Die rooi en die koper smaak van haar bloed oorweldig my sinteie!

Die wêreld draai… Stilte soos my ore suis.
Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop.

Ek sukkel los. Onbeseerd, ongelooflik! Haar asem is nog stewig maar sy lyk bewildered, geen woorde kom van haar lippe. Ek spartel met haar gordel – moes die fokken gespe al lankal vervang het!

Daar is ‘n lig in die verte, kan dit wees? ‘n Dorp so naby? Maar daar was dan niks!
Met angs los ek haar op soek na hulp, na die ligte, na die dorp, na die mense…

Mense?
Die mense, wag my in?
Hulle wag my al klaar in?

Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop,
Pyn skreeu binne my terwyl vlymskerp dit in my ingly…
My vlees word verdeel. My vlees en háár bloed!
NEE!!!

Hulle staan, hoekom kom hul nie help nie?
Nader, al nader, hul gesigte in afwagting?
Hul bene!
Hul HOEWE!

Klop-klop, klop-klop, klop-klop,
Dis hul hoewe!
Dis HULLE!!!

What the F*** is wrong with you people!!!

The last while I’ve been suffering from severe ‘writer’s block’ or as I would call it, ‘a-severe-lack-of-interest-in-the-pittiful-plight-of-you-fucktards-due-to-trying-to-sort-out-a-business’. My ability to properly rant at the ‘lack- of- humanity –in- humanity’ as well as the stupidity that surrounds humanity, has been excessively impaired as of late. So instead of ranting and ‘going-on’ I’ve been patiently consuming / listening to all you ‘fapping’ on about your pitiful null opinions, and that brought on the following little brain haemorrhage…

I have spent most of my life obscuring the fact that I actually have a fair understanding of the world by masking it with all those things your parents warned you about… You know: promiscuity / drug abuse / obnoxious behaviour / public displays of my genitalia etc… Up and till a while ago I was able to suffer the incompetence of the average alcohol- addled / stoner-fucktard by snorting poppers, while waiting for the LSD to kick in.

Losing my patience, rather giving up on that endeavour and excusing myself to go pound out fat-white-lines in some shit / fuck / vomit stained bathroom, inwardly weeping for the state of the occupants of this filthy ‘mud-ball’. But now, sadly no amount of ‘brain-chemistry-altering’ drugs seem to be able to stop me these days.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!!!

Everyday I see you posting / sharing / going on about these half baked propaganda pieces, ie: hybrids / bio-fuel / Atheism / religion / veganism / caring about the plight of orphans in Africa / doggy or kitty porn – without you actually having a single shit-stained-brain-cell’s worth of knowledge on these subjects.

You seem to always latch on to someone else’s just as ‘feebly-muckity’ opinion, without spending two seconds to go run a quick web-search on the subject and expand your own knowledge. You would rather allow the previous fucktard to lead you off into the spiral of his own rectally dysfunctional thought process…

Now in truth, I cannot deny that I have quite often harped on about subjects I have absolutely no idea about, often tapping into just one other source to tear into someone else’s opinion, because I was in a particular shitty / grumpy / depressing-downer brought on by behaviour previously stated. So I include myself in this berating…

But why the fuck can’t you look into the reality of things? For instance…

The ‘Environmentally-conscience / anti-corporation / tree-humping-brainless’ all jumping onto the media-hype (paid for by large corporations):

• For bio-fuels, while not recognising the vast amounts of precious natural habitats that will be chopped out for the production of the bio-fuel to sustain our industries;
• And for Hybrids, not considering the actual amount of pollutants involved with the production of this vehicle rather than an old school loved fuel guzzler.

The ‘Anti-meat-eaters’:

• Refusing to take into consideration the amount of people living under the poverty line whom are sustained by the meat production industry;
• For bashing pharmaceutical companies (you know, the big bad / conspiracy creating / ‘ruiners’ of the environment) who ironically produce the vitamins they need to sustain healthy living.

Atheists who say religion caused all major atrocities, also citing Marxist theory while completely ignoring the horrors those fucking non-religious commies got up to.

“Marikana” conspiracy nuts:

• Blaming the police force for deliberately planning a “massacre”, ignoring the pure fact that a police officer is still a person (obviously excluding the odd ‘Oh-so-special-lets-butt-rape-a-baby-psychopath’) and the average person has a slight aversion to gunning down other people wantonly;
• Screaming blame at MINING CORPORATIONS, sadly missing the slide this debacle caused in their stock price value…

And lastly, ‘Non-conformists’ whining about conformity on Facebook… No substantiation required.

When you release any opinion into this world (post / share / tell someone) understand that you will be judged by this…. We are ALL fuctards. So can we please just at least ATTEMPT to be informed ones?

Lotsa Fist Fucking Love
TheHenkie…

Sexuality REALLY???

Ok, before we get this started I need to clarify some things… When I refer to a “fag”, I do not refer to my (donut-punching / rusty-rim-humping / lovers-of-the-chocolate-highway) friends, better known as gays – a fag is a male I have no respect for.  I’ve always had respect for the gay community and enjoyed their drugs / parties / company on many occasions.

Likewise, when I refer to “dykes” I do not refer to my fellow clam-munching / taco-loving / rug-rompers of the female persuasion. I’ve had many a slow-dance and quite a few (girlfriend-demeaning) laughs with them…

Sooooo, now that that’s out of the way, I need to find out from the haters of our fairer (male) and rougher (female) counterparts, what the hell is the issue?

Many will cite Bible scriptures (but only from the Old Testament), completely ignoring the teachings of the institution’s spiritual leader, JC –  you know, the man who had his feet washed by a prostitute and as his final act, actually FORGAVE all the a-holes who TORTURED him to death, passing NO judgement on anyone… Hence, EXACTLY what right do YOU have to do so?

Approaching this issue from a South African cultural perspective: kids = wealth, ergo gay people = no kids = no wealth… This is grossly simplified, but I’d rather not touch this issue with someone else’s cock, since it would be a flaccid argument.

That was basically the only two arguments I might have slightly entertained…

The easiest way to approach this would be by looking at it as you would diverse ‘fetishes’ –  different sexual ‘needs’ that would define every person as their own fuckable being, for example: some guys love a naked woman slathered in hot oil, tied in submission, spread eagled on a bed. But, some guys would prefer all that being done to him by his boyfriend.

If a person is only attracted to their own sex, how does this actually affect the people around them? I think it’s been thoroughly proven that this is not a transferable disease, i.e: if your girlfriend sat on the same toilet as a lesbian, she WOULDN’T suddenly be overcome with the irresistible urge to French kiss another woman’s lower-love-bits (even though most of us will keep fantasising).

So… We know it isn’t a disease, has absolutely NO bearing on anyone else’s life but their own AND increases the ratio of women to men worldwide – making it SO much easier for an ugly flea-ridden-homophobe like yourself to actually get his dicky sticky. Also to be honest, if lesbians stick to their own your ‘strike-out’ ratio improves, thus you will get to feel a little less like the pathetic excuse that you are…

In summary, the only thing that hatred towards homosexuals prove, is that you are of a weaker intellect, or you suffer from some serious need for psychological ‘re-adjustment’, OR (and this is the one I personally enjoy most) you’re jealous of the freedom and candour by which they live their lives… i.e: YOU ARE A CLOSET FAG!!!

On an unrelated note… LEAVE MY FAGS ALONE!!!

http://seniorjournalism.com/2012/02/22/s-africa-increases-sin-taxes/594/

Open that FUCKING door!!!!

So, last week during my ‘beer-o-clock’, this foolish girl joined our table and decided to declare herself a feminist. Now, if you have had any sort of contact with me, you would know that I’m a ‘modern misogynist’ – a very outspoken warrior for male rights in a ‘media-controlling-female-society’, i.e: I’m so fucking tired of having to hear about the percentage of male upper management, while the average male has absolutely NO employability due to their gender and (in South-Africa) race…

Soooooo, when a young girl comes up with “I’m a feminist”, I rage out and immediately tackle the half-wit with the reality of the world…you know, the stuff your bra burning / man hating / divorced-bitch-mother wouldn’t make you aware of. The basic things that the feminist movement stood for – the right to vote, the right for protection, the right to have equal opportunity in the job market / same level of pay / the right to wear miniskirts (I’m so FOR woman’s rights!)… And guess what girls, your GRANDMOTHERS WON! You can now enjoy the fruits of their labour, miniskirts / hot pants and naughty knickers are yours to be worn!!!!

And, I know that there’s still a lot of cultural (in South-Africa) barriers to be overcome, but these will only be bridged by the re-adjustment of the ‘social sub-conscience’. Lame attempts to get into the faces of the “conservative mindsets”, will only stir up more issues and gender-based pissed-off-ness… There is absolutely no more need for an actual movement to rally. Now, it has become a thing of personal understanding to be worked on by both men and women…

The problem we are currently facing is that after years of “look at what your father did” being beaten into the retarded male psyche, most of them have become useless / spineless, sacks of shit! They cry about everything, discuss their emotions every two seconds and seem to have absolutely no idea how to treat a woman….

Now this is where I get RILED UP!

How the hell did we end up here? Why the FUCK is my girlfriend STANDING, while FAT…FUCKING…MEN…take up two bloody spaces on the god-forsaken train? Why the fuck do I see guys shoving women out of their way while walking, women getting screamed at in public places?

Yes, THEY fought for equality but this does not mean that YOU should treat them like they’re one of your ‘piss-up pals’. Treating a woman with respect shows inner character! This has very little to do with them, BUT the person James Bond taught you to be!

Just because you’ve run into so many situations with stupid bitches (and believe me, other women would agree that the extreme ‘leftest’ DYKES are bitches), does not mean that all women can be blamed for the retarded ‘loud mouths’…in other words, would you want women to blame you for all the offensive / retarded / bile-infused comments I spout every day?

Only one out of every ten women would actually sneer “I can do it myself” when you open the door for her…the rest truly appreciate these sincere shows of decency. Breaking from proper manners is no way to react because you feel hopeless and ignored…

For shame ‘faggoty’ men! FOR SHAME!!!

There’s nothing more heartbreaking than a prostitutes tears…

Strange, struggling to get this rolling… Let’s see, what do you think when you hear/see/interact with a prostitute? Demonic succubi twisting innocent men into their webs of perversion? Disease carrying harlots? Or what?
Well I’ll tell you what I saw this morning, average scene in the car, coke cans, beer bottles and cigarette boxes strain the weight of the floor, open shirt sunglasses and slick hair. My own music rattling through my head screaming “Get the fuck out now!” exactly as I looked out my passenger side window and my heart broke…
Next to the car on the harsh pavement sat this frail girl, long auburn hair, face hidden with her hands, slender shoulders, black tank top, jean skirt (no, no tiger print/dark make-up/fishnet stalkings/fuck me boots, that, you pay extra for in places like sandton)… And when she looked up her face was stained with tears…

So that brought on this particular little rant…
Prostitution, often said to be the oldest profession (which is absolute bullshit since technically that would be hunting/gathering, but let’s be honest quite a lot of prehistoric bimbos bent for some mammoth meat in dank semen stained caves, so close…) has been here for a fuck long time and will never actually stop happening, there will always be sad pathetic losers/deviants who can’t fuck his wife up the ass, so they will pay for it! But these woman remain, to me personally at least, the unsung heroes who keep the fabric of ‘moral’ society together. Their roles as mitigators of male dark desires completely overlooked and demeaned by pruder, stuck up bitches, who use their cunts like mind control devises on men. If these guys actually had the freedom from personal moral restrictions, they would never have stood for the crap these fanatical bitches caused in their existance…

Now… Pause… Breath… Let’s not get carried away on a rant about prude-bitches… All I’ll say on them is they make me think of ‘half a vagina’, not going to explain that statement… Think about it…

Ok, fuck nearly lost my already weak train of thought, crying prostitutes…

There are various reasons why a woman would be forced into this, man sauce filled, proffesion. Everything from cultural tradition enforced by a matriarchal societies ( Yes-yes children there was actually a temple were young woman HAD to go sit in front of till a man threw a coin at her, and YES-YES she HAD to go get her brains rammed out by whoever gave her said coin… Poor ugly chicks, they must’ve gotten hemeroids from spending months sitting on the cold floor in front of the temple…), to severe drug addictions that can only be paid for by giving a sucking. But no matter what the reason is, NONE of them are cute. Remember, that cum-dumpster that flash her tit-bits at random strangers is a woman, now, unless you believe that woman get farted out of satan’s anus, that means she used to be a little girl. Somewhere back in long forgotten past she was someone’s princess, pig-tail-wearing, giggling, dreaming of unicorns, barbie dolls and a gallant prince that never comes, bonified girl! A Big-eye-wielding, manipulating, sweet-hart…

Oooooohhhh, you didn’t think about that now, did you? That thing you stare at with such disdain is EXACTLY like your daughter, sister, lover! ANY dark twist of fate could’ve brought your fair-sex loved one to this…
Now, look at the female that you love, look into her eyes and see that vulnerable innocence that you are sworn to protect. Imagine that light being pounded out of her by hundreds of cocks, harsh words, physical violence and scorn from everyone!

All hope raped from her soul…

Now imagine how hurt such a hardened woman must actually feel to sit on the pavement crying her hart out…

Heartbreaking, isn’t it…

Tear you Apart

Doing 150 kilometres per hour, wind whipping my hair all over the place, unbuttoned shirt, cigarette and dirty day dreaming, yeah, be warned that’s where this comes from:

There’s always been such a dividing line between a one night stand and ‘committed’ (excuse the pun)fucking. I have spent hours pondering it and I think I’ve finally got it.

The one night stand

Well, I’ve spent years perfecting this little dance, random stranger, friend, ex-complication, all the same. Rough sex with no repercussion, no-care, no-intimacy of any sort…
Strange I’ve heard many men suffer from anxiety over this form of yum-yum interaction cause of their fears over their manly performance (quick sploog, floppy cock etc.). I have never had this problem and that’s what was/is my main attraction to this, absolutely no care whatsoever, violence, pain, extreme ‘discomfort’ all do not matter. The lack of any sort of respect for the other allows you to do exactly what the carnal monster in you yearns for..

‘commited(excuse the pun) fucking

Now this used to actually be a problem for me, intimacy (my mind still in some cases actually revolt against the idea, at least I don’t want to throw up every time I say the world “girlfriend” anymore) means that you actually consider your fuck-toy and want her/him/it to enjoy the experience too…
Eg: you care if they come, which does invalidate one of my favourite statements “number one comes first, MOTHA-FUCKA!”
Anyhoo…
But an exploration into this have brought a whole new side of it to my attention, the more you experience with your chosen sexual miscreant the greater and worse it becomes. Suddenly a person will pressure yourself into a situation where you believe you wouldn’t be able to perform. Suddenly the thought of your partner NOT doing the ‘spider-walk’ (you know that moment when the woman arches her back, feet dig into the mattress, hands flailing and alternating between clawing at her pillow and suffocating you between her thighs) frightens you so much you would rather rebuke her advances. Which invariable starts affecting your whole situation, leads to frustration and other (far less than pleasing) personal trepidations…
So I had to face my personal arch- nemesis, COMMUNICATION, such a small word that would invariably have fucked up my mood to no extend not long ago. But slowly, inch by excruciating inch I have been giving in, and to my astonishment it actually looks like it has a purpose.
By actually facing these inter-personal ballz-ups it came to light that performance issues get suffered by both genders, both partners will always seek the others pleasure while doing the ‘horizontal- mambo’. As soon as you do not deal with these problems they keep on piling up until the point where they are insurmountable… Ie: someone fucks someone else and shit goes BANG!!!

Soooooo….
I’m bored with typing now…

CONCLUSION

If you don’t want to actually end up speaking to a woman get yourself a prostitute, at least EVERYBODY wins that way…