True manliness is more important than ever before, because true manliness is “getting stuff done” and there’s more amazing stuff now than at any time in history. Because our caveman skills of brute strength and hairiness have been obsolete since the invention of forklifts and indoors, true manliness now transcends testicles. But some whiners still insist that physically dangling your weak points in a little fleshy handbag between your legs is the only proof of being worthwhile. Because that’s the only proof they have. They think whatever they do automatically matters just because they’re men, and they’re wrong about both statements.
One such No Girls Club is The Red Pill Room. It’s run by “Ian Ironwood,” and hahaha, I just lost a writing battle against him because I can’t think of any funnier way to mock him than the one he’s already written. Ian Ironwood. It must have been a hard battle between that, “Dick Master,” and “Commander Badass Boobtoucher”.
He claims to represent the “Manosphere,” a collection of blogs dedicated to the cause of men’s rights. They insist that they’re the real face of masculinity while whining online about their problems, and honestly don’t see any contradiction. This includes his own alter-ego “The Sex Nerd,” and his other alter-ego “Red Pill Wifey” where he fantasizes writing posts as his own sexually satisfied spouse. I don’t think we’re meant to know that one is him, but it’s more obviously fake than a porn spambot wearing a false moustache. But has much less sex. And he channeled all his blueballed might into his masterwork, a series of “Inspirational Posters”
This is a crazier combination of concepts than the inmates of Arkham Asylum, and those guys still have better luck with women. You can actually see where the edges of the letters are tearing and glitching as try to pull themselves out of this stupid image. It’s a crazier attack on women than writing “Tampon” on a stick of dynamite. There’s no relation between any of the concepts involved except that Richie Rustcock didn’t understand any of them. The entire punchline is “Feminism,” and there’s no set-up, and by “punchline” we mean “a line which makes you want to punch him.”
I think we just found out why Stevey Steelknob is so upset with women. But you can’t blame his wife: when a husband’s romantic strategy is waving their marriage certificate while crying “But you promiiiiiiiised!” his wife’s vagina secretes superglue instead of lubrication.
A picture might be worth a thousand words, but that doesn’t mean you’re meant to include them all. He’s trying to tell you how relationships work when he can’t even use MS Paint without turning it into an endless nagging session. Note the guy’s hand positions: even his posters don’t get to touch breasts. That guy is clearly aiming to eat a fresh kidney, but ’50s fanart of Hannibal Lecter might not be a good source of relationship advice. Especially when his point is “using a picture to talk about boobs online,” and he still manages to screw it up. If you need 75 words to communicate a selfish desire for breasts, you’re provably dumber than a newborn infant.
That is amazing. It’s not even a standard “nice guy whine” because it’s too long, which really doesn’t sound like a problem the author has to deal with. He’s spent longer imagining the perfect bad boy to screw every women he meets than they have. Possibly because every women he meets gives up on men entirely and starts fantasizing about dying alone.
Nothing says “I don’t need women” like stalking them for twenty years and then writing an entire book about it. I was going to blur this to make sure no one risked reading it, but he’s done a damn good job of that already with font choice. He’s clearly as good at choosing fonts as he is at getting with ladies: even if anyone bothers, it’s difficult to look at, too small and curled, and very badly used.
You can really tell that someone doesn’t need the approval of ladies when he yells for their attention and writes a novel explaining how little he thinks about them. And when they list videogames, porn, and friends in that order, he’s not just showing his priorities, that’s his exact plan for a Friday night. And the he calls “friends” are the 7/11 cashiers who call him “That guy who tries to make conversation when buying tissues and hand lotion at 1 a.m.”
Luke McKinney watches the new Halo series and mocks The Craziest Scientific Theories of U.S. Politicians.