Knot believe in Gravity. Facts are Rayciss©. Sucks to your Ass-Mar. Part 1

suckstoyourassmar

Ever been asked whether a tree falling in the forest makes a sound if no one is around to hear it?  If you answered no, is the number of cocks you have sucked measured in thousands or tens of thousands?  If you answered something cuckish like “it depends”, “I don’t know”, or “maybe”, like a wishy washy, mayonnaise sandwich,

mayonaise
Meal fit for a cuck.

who fucking cares what you think?  You don’t have the amygdala to handle a confrontation with a flaccid wet grocery bag.    If you answered yes congratulations you understand objective truth.

Lets think about this real damn hard.  What the hell is sound anyway?  Sound is defined by ANSI/ASA S1.1-2013 as “(a) Oscillation in pressure, stress, particle displacement, particle velocity, etc., propagated in a medium with internal forces (e.g., elastic or viscous), or the superposition of such propagated oscillation. (b) Auditory sensation evoked bytreefalling the oscillation described in (a).”  According to this definition, lets look at the above scenario. A trees falls in the woods.  The tree falling provides “pressure” (on the air the tree falls through, on the ground and on the tree itself when it impacts the ground), “stress” (likewise to all preceding parties), “particle displacement” (air, ground, tree), and “particle velocity” (same).

All of category A is satisfied, every piece.  If you have an argument, even a queer bait little sophist argument, lets see it.  Brandish that shit like a baseball bat and take a swing.  Next category, B.  Here is the real question, cucklet.  “Auditory sensation evoked by the oscillation described in (a)”  That the “auditory sensation evoked” is made is no longer a question, it was apparent when it checked every single box in A.  The only way one could twist the underwear of the english language into a tight ball of severed testicles is to say that a sensation does not exist if there is nothing to experience it.

Allow me to face fuck that stupid notion to an untimely death.

Does a forest fire not seen burn the forest?

Does a plant not watched growing grow?

forestfire
“If I don’t see the fire it can’t burn the trees.” Cried the cuck.

Does a flood not watched not cause water damage?

Does paint not watched not dry?

Wake the hell up, insolent cuck bag.  You know that shit happens even if you don’t watch it.  You know it like you know Caitlyn Jenner is a fucking man, like you know Miley Cyrus was more attractive with long hair, like you know the USA hasn’t won a single war since WW2.  Truth hurts, that is how you know its fucking true.  Cucktards love pretty little lies. They use them as warm bubble blankets they pull tight around themselves and stuff in their ears to stifle the sound of their wife getting boned into the floorboards.

Don’t be a cuck.  Embrace the truth. That tree makes a sound even if your precious sensitive ears aren’t around to hear it.  Deal with it.  Use it.  Let it make you stronger.

More in part 2.

The tide is about to turn. The pendulum must swing back. Thanks are in order. Part 1.

thanks

Over the two glorious years since the birth of this blog there have been few who were brave enough to view it.  Even fewer still who had the intestinal fortitude to post.  The humble success of this blog (and rest assured it is quite humble) is due only to those who visit it, who comment here and inspire towards even greater depths of insanity.

This Turkey day, when people all over Cuckmerica give thanks to Aergia, the goddess of obesity and sloth, you, my dear readers, will be the recipients of my gratitude. When they clamour like zombies into a diseases infested greed and envy depository location, when they shout at their 89″ flatscreen altars to their favorite FAN totem,  when they fall into an insulin induced coma, we will be just that much sharper.

It is in this vein that I salute you.  As you may have noticed there is a small sliver of hope for this country to be rescued from the jaws of Moloch’s damnation.  With the positive feedback received from the one non-satire related post, expect more of that.  Expect truckloads of vitriol aimed squarely at the slack jaw of cucks. That, my friends, is your power.  The power of support.  So without further adieu and no more bloviating enjoy:

Eye in Pyramid: You have been my staunchest supporter.  Here from the very beginning and always around with an on point comment.  You truly get it.  Best post:

“What is more sexy than a man in uniform? Two men in uniforms making out with each other. Our Military is so watered down and culturally diverse, that practically any nation with a leader with two functioning testicles could defeat us. Perfect! That’s exactly what we want. Turn the greatest fighting force that ever existed into just another racially diverse place of employment. In fact our military doesn’t need strong men ready to kill and fight. What we really need our people who are heads of offices and have titles like Director of Ethnic Diversity Coordination! Such a beautiful title it makes seek-seek demons cry.”

This post contains your lunatic hilarity along with some points of worth you sneakily tucked inside.  Bravo.  For your reward please see this custom avatar built for you.  For a specific file type email me.eyeinpyramid

Craig:  I feel your hate and it strengthens me.  Your anger, your loathing, your staunch disgust at those perverts in power.  You are my brother from another mother (may justice find her)  Best Post:

“I actually see the deplorables sacrificing all the cucks and Hillary and everyone connected to her via business and politics to lord Moloch in much the same way the Aztec’s of old sacrificed their enemies to Quetzalcoatl (lord Moloch under another name)”

This post shows your zeal for righteous justice and the desire to turn the cucks own blood thirsty perversions back onto them. Bravo.  For your reward please see this custom avatar built for you.  For a specific file type email me.

craig

OleGrandPaSaid: You stare into the abyss and laugh at it right along with me.  There is nothing to fear when the enemy is evil, except for running out of ammo.  We when go down it will be surrounded by a pile of corpses and smiles on our face. Best Post:

I about damn died from a busted gut reading about that “we need our weave” part. Lmao. Then the proper answer, Moar. Praise him, lord Moloch for his will I’d being excised like wisdom teeth upon the unsuspecting cuck. Indeed even the cuck knows not that the time of the rapture begins with the words “your EBT card has been declined”. Btw, coincidence that the two things that matter most to exalted ones are EBT and BET? I think not, as only Moloch could be so sublime. Alas, it is only the restraint of daylight and the cardswipe that the jungle heathen eyes his query and waits. Soon he’ll have his prize, and Moloch will be exalted. It could only be sweeter if the hated ones (WASPs) would jump in a lake of fire after the requisite period or self hatred, but wait….just wait.

This post shows your desire to laugh into the teeth of the monster, and beg it to attack. Bravo.  For your reward please see this custom avatar built for you.  For a specific file type email me.

olegrandpasaid

Understand, I have a few more commenters who I haven’t had chance to get to.  There is a part two and there might be a part three.  Stay alert, Stay alive.

Cuckball, the sport of Goddesses. Aergia is your Liege. The Opium of Cuckmerica. Part 2.

CUCKBOWL

Sadly the CUCKBOWL is over.  The thin greasy potato chips are eaten, the light beer is nothing more than empty cans, the sofa is now covered in chicken wing stains.  The gluttonous masses consumed more nourishment than at any other time of the year, save Fatsgiving. The good news is that the peons worshiped appropriately.  It  was the THIRD largest viewing population ever in television history.  Audacious.  Aergia nods her head lazily in approval.

Some of the Illumed are still shamefacedly unaware of the entities that provided us with our power.  If you missed the previous praise session for Aergia please follow it here. There we begin to provide the insight into one of the pivotal receptacles and transformers of the peasantry of Cuckmerica.  Just as glorious child sacrifice is now safely labeled abortion, so too are sloth, gluttony, laziness, indigence, corpulence, and physical degeneracy, now safely labeled “FAN”.  “Fans” are the parishioners to our temple to dearest goddess of sloth.  The talking heads, the mendicants.  The stadiums, the cathedrals.  The merchandise the idols, the players the very living gods themselves.

stadiumofworship

What has more parishioners and mendicants than the greatest worship event on Earth? Enter the glorious ceremony know as the CUCKBOWL.  Legions of fat saturated plebes sat atop their altars of obesity worshiping their cuck idols.  Bowing in obeisance, slapping hands in jubilees of celebration.  Crying, when their favorite cuck fantasy failed to materialize and finally depression when the rapture of the event draws to a close.

Camnewtonsuckit
Cam orders you to suck, cuck.
peytonmanningCUCKface
I may have two rings but I still enjoy a good Cucking.

We have engineered a situation where former men will pay money to wear a jersey and show off their suppressed sexual fetishes for those men whose names are emblazoned upon their back.

Men who have their women wear jerseys lust to watch their wives In flagrante delicto with those “players”.  Their dreams are the very meat of cuckoldom, hard wired with the desire to show their faith through the sexual satiation of their idols by their wives, and of course, secretly, themselves.

The culminating event of the cuck religion was an unmitigated success.  The praise offered to Aergia will not go unnoticed.  The trinkets produced and bought will not go unheeded.  The peasant cuck fantasies will continue to influence their daily lives.   Professional sports remains an ardent part of the worship of the old gods, and for their enthusiastic participation we salute them.

Cuckball, the sport of Goddesses. Aergia is your Liege. The Opium of Cuckmerica. Part 1.

FatLadyLiberty

Aeriga is the goddess that receives the prayers of the lazy, the indolent, the slothful and the gluttonous.   We, the illumed, have elevated a little known Greek deity into a colossal beacon of worship for an entire nation.

Modern cucks sit in front of TV’s larger than they are, slavering chicken grease across their triple chins, lusting after their favorite negro ball toucher.  “He is so fast.”  Says cuck A. “He is so strong” says cuck B.  They each wear jerseys, branding their loyal following of their favorite athlete, their patron saint.  lazy3They high five each other with saucy hands, dreaming of the day when their cuckish fantasies will be fulfilled.  Perhaps with prayer and dedication, one day, their wives will be allowed to sexually satiate these “gods of the gridiron” and they will be the fortunate few cucks to clean up afterwards.

Worship of Aeriga is not limited to those with cuck fantasies however.  The mere act of excess watching, sports, dramas, anything, and lustily stuffing face with copious amounts of fried lazy1fat has been elevated to a new form of worship.  Not with violence, not with hate, not with envy, but with wanton desire, do these foul souls worship at the altar of our beloved masters.  Over indulgence used to be viewed as a shameful thing, a vice, but through careful planning we have transformed disgust into dignity.  We have elevated lack of self-control to an art form and the masses are all virtuosos.  They worship through sloth, through laziness, through gluttony.

 

lazy2
I am HUGE Patriots fan!

Their worship is counted in the self induced heart attack, the cholesterol filled arteries, the endless food detritus strewn on their clothes and floor.  Each crushed potato chip, each shoulder brushed cheeto crumb is testament to their insatiable nutritional blasphemy.  Their steadfast dedication to transforming food from nourishment into a slow suicide is the purest expression of faith.  Not only do they sacrifice their own health and well being, they harm society, disgust others, and bring glorious dishonor to their family.

Every Cardiac arrest, every triple bypass surgery, every electric scooter transporting someone too fat to walk is a shinning testimony to uncontrolled digestion perversion.  Through their fierce inactivity they bow and worship at the feet of their goddess.  At the feet of America’s deity rests a plaque which begs for the starving masses of humanity, fodder to transform into bloated land whales abominations.

The altar of television where Americans dedicate the majority of the disposable time is overflowing with the devotion of the swine we Illumed are justly going to bring to slaughter.  We must content ourselves with sheering for now but what a harvest it is.  The slovenly peasants make themselves available on our timetable at our whim.  The fruit ripens on Aeriga Day, to the peons, The Super Bowl.

aergiagoddess
I am your goddess. You worship, through inaction.