From the original article on June 14, 2011. Author: Chateau Heartiste.
The beauties are back strutting their stuff on the slut walk. Yeah, they do their thunderous waddle on the slut walk:
I have news for this deluded bog creature. Sexy fattie is an oxymoron (emphasis on both the ox and moron). Interestingly, slutty fattie is not.
Don’t bother trying to do pickup at a slut walk. You will rarely see a hot babe at one of these parades of misfits, and that’s not because she gets lost amongst the pillars of heaving blubber. You see, hot chicks, having high sexual market value, work hard to avoid being labeled a slut. The last thing they would want to do is associate their hottie hotness with a bunch of self-proclaimed sluts. A hot chick has no trouble getting the attention of alpha males, so she doesn’t need to advertise her sexual openness to lure men. In fact, she prefers to do just the opposite: play coy and project an aura of discriminating prudery so that the man who lands her feels she is a worthwhile long term investment.
Fatties, cougars and fuglies, in contrast, take the opposite tack. They know that they won’t be turning men’s heads, so they rely on signaling their sexual promiscuity to capture some horny man with no other options. Advertising that they are an easy lay is a strategy that enables them to compete with better looking girls. Of course, it’s a myopic strategy, because most men who aren’t total losers will bolt as soon as they bust their nuts in the bloated vagina vortex of one of these wildebeests. But in the EEA (environment of evolutionary adaptation), an ugly broad needed to get sperm, and fertilization took priority over pair bonding.
There is also the self-soothing psychological angle at work here. Beasts who love to brag about their sluttiness aren’t convincing others so much as they are convincing themselves of their imaginary desirability. A grrlpower slut walk is just the medicine for a lonely loser girl who’s spent one too many nights with her purple saguaro, which now vibrates in fear. She can bellow at the top of her lungs along with the rest of the sideshow freaks what a DYNAMIC and MAGNETIC piece of ass she is, and for that brief moment — that sweet afternoon escape on the streets of the city — she believes it, and her happiness swells as she fondly misremembers all those depressing, sloppy one night stands as some sort of twisted proof of her femininity and sexiness.
This is the key to defeating feminism: separate the hotties from the uglies. Make it known in no uncertain terms that feminists are ugly, inside and out, and men are repulsed by them, and the hot chicks will feel burning shame and embarrassment to be connected with the dykes, rejects, careerist shrikes and spinsters who fuel the rancid ideology.
There’s nothing like a threat to the ol’ SMV to get a person to sit up and take notice.
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