The American Psychological Association (APA) is probably the greatest con job ever invented, and it has recently released guidelines on how to screw the American people further. The APA has an annual budget of $115 million, and 117,500 shrinks are members.
The guidelines basically say that being a male is a very bad thing. Male qualities such as courage, personal ambition, and grace under pressure are psychologically harmful.
The APA advises that qualities such as self-reliance and competitiveness should be rooted out. I do not have $115 million per annum and cannot claim 117,500 friends, but my advice to my readers is to root out every psychologist they know and, if need be, shoot them dead.
Now, I don’t think too many Americans take psychology seriously, at least Americans who don’t live in Hollywood or New York, but I once told Clement Freud, grandson of the great fraud Sigmund, what I thought of him and his effing family—alas, London is crawling with them—and he tried to get me fired by going behind my back and claiming that I was an anti-Semite. My Jewish editor at the time did not believe him, and after Freud’s death it was revealed that he was a rapist.
Oh, yes, I almost forgot—all these creeps who hate men and want us all to become womanlike are very left-wing.
In news that surprised exactly nobody with a functioning brain, serial misandrist and attention seeking opinion columnist Clementine Ford resigned from her job at Nine newspapers in Australia with a well orchestrated public hissy fit that guarantees all of her bridges will be left in smouldering ruins behind her.
The reason for her catastrophic meltdown is because her bosses asked her to demonstrate some respect in her columns for the office of the prime minister of Australia. In other words they asked her to not refer to him as “a fucking disgrace.”
Last week we learned of the public meltdown of serial doughnut enveloper Clementine Ford as she quit her job in a hissy fit because she was asked to adhere to some very basic standards. Well the journalist gossip lines have been running hot on this all weekend and now it emerges as to what exactly caused her to quit her job so unexpectedly.
Four months later, in January, there was a separate dispute about a Ford column due to run in the Daily Life section of the SMH and The Age.
Diary has been told by one senior SMH source the column was about “calls” for laws in Australia to be relaxed to allow women to carry guns.
The SMH operative claimed Ford was given “some unremarkable editorial feedback” on the column by her section editor. “Her decision to resign was a surprise to everyone here,” the high-level SMH source said.
So there you have it. Misandrist Ford wants only women in Australia to be allowed to carry guns. I presume that if she had got her wish then her next push would have been for women to be given the legal benefit of the doubt after they shot a man in the face for stepping back in the lift and allowing her to exit first.
. . . . .
Who of us did not suspect for a second that the far-left infested ABC would not step in to rescue this damsel in distress? Now Ford can continue her very public manhating campaigns while being paid by the taxpayer. How about that? Australian white men get to pay for the privilege of Clementine Ford writing about how much she hates them and that they should all die. And I mean that literally.
And in the red corner, here we have a 22-year old who is a fledgling self-publicist and the epitome of Generation Snowflake. She got a worthless degree from a 3rd rate former polytechnic (where she was probably infected by the mardy social justice/feminist disease) and thinks she’s the bee’s knees. She has about 8 minutes of experience in the real world, much of it as an unpaid intern.
Everyone in her life so far has told her what a wonderful, fabulous, talented person she is, but she is a delicate, hypersensitive flower with low self-esteem, who is traumatised by any challenge to her egocentric world view, and she lashes out, vituperatively, vindictively and short-sightledly.
After all.. an email expressing your strident opinion of a prospective employer’s interview technique is one thing – and if it’s constructive, I can admire the balls of it – but to also post the email publicly – names, companies and all – on social media, garner loads of attention, go on 3 different BBC radio stations, and then post up your comically threadbare CV on Twitter? Really?
So I have one more question: After publicly slaying a prospective employer on social and mainstream media like that, who in their right mind would be dumb enough to hire this otherwise unremarkable woman to scrub floors, let alone to be a key person in their business?
Remember I wrote about that ginger lassie the other day who had a total social media strop against a guy who interviewed her? You know.. the mash up of Toyah Wilcox and Mrs Merton?
. . . . .
Today I see that on her own site, we can learn that Olivia is bipolar. She takes Sertraline and Quetiapine for her brains. In October 2018, she wrote a blog post about how she had moved to Brighton and needed to tell everyone how fab Brighton is, accompanied by a thrilling eulogy to the cheap tat she bought to equip the place.
I’m guessing she no longer had her boyfriend by the time she moved to Brighton, probably because he couldn’t cope with this:
Recently, my boyfriend’s house has been subject to my endless interior design desires, and I’ve been slowly introducing new pieces into his bedroom (including two little guinea pigs called Max and Minnie, but of course they’re not decorative) that he seems to be liking too.
I wonder if this is the ‘abusive’ ex-boyfriend that her ‘traumatic’ interview reminded her of.
One of her six great things about Brighton is:
Since I moved to Brighton, I’ve binned off bras, makeup (except for special occasions), and regular shaving. Because the thing is, nobody here cares.
That is the most unintentionally brutal and accurate reviews of Brighton I’ve ever read.
It’s good to have 0 World problems.
But there’s a problem with success. For if I am ever to be remembered for anything, it will be my quote “Success is merely the replacement of one group of problems with slightly lesser ones.” And the reason why I will be remembered for that is because THAT IS PRECISELY THE DEFINITION OF SUCCESS. There is never a world without problems. You may solve your larger ones first, but then you move onto smaller ones, then smaller ones, and smaller ones after that. But they never end. There is no world or life without problems. And sometimes, the problems are there, but you don’t see them because of how you attained success in the past. Your work ethic blinds you. Your fear of poverty and starvation prevent you from seeing them. And in an ironic sense, what helped you attain these rare levels of success, ends up becoming the problem itself. And in this case, it is your work ethic. And so I’m here to warn you how your work ethic may come to harm you in your future.
I faced a very minor problem today, but it was “the” most prominent problem I faced. I desperately would like to write more. The “problem” is that Asshole Consulting, my youtube channel, and newer forms of alternative media (podcasting mainly) have taking increasingly larger percentages of my time. This is good news because I’m making more money and they’re successful, but now my days are not as open or care free as they once were. Throw in on top of that I insist on enjoying life via having fun (hiking, motorcycle riding, golfing, adventuring), and there’s an ever dwindling pot of time to satisfy the demands of my life. This is alright because I manage my time wisely and have the energy to usually meet all of my own self-imposed demands, but today it was different. Today there was another factor.
It was just absolutely gorgeous outside.
The real stress over these genuinely 0 world problems came from the fact I haven’t written a serious post in a long time. And if I had enjoyed the day outside hiking, that would postpone the article I was 50% done with into Friday. Friday’s readership/traffic is less than “normal” weekdays, so I would once again fail to meet that deadline. Yet, at the same time, staying indoors on a perfectly dry 72 degree and sunny day to finish a piece on “Red Pill Penetration Rates” sounded even worse. Still, work is work and you have to work. Work before pleasure. Get your work done. It is your work that allowed you this lofty choice in the first place.
But then I realized something.
And finally on the subject of problems that are good to have . . . Girls.
I think my new second favourite women’s sport is pole vaulting. There are no fat chycks doing the pole vault. Unlike pole dancing which is almost all fat chycks.
You gotta be light to pole vault. And I like my girls light.