Adam Piggott

Greetings fellow adventurers and travelers of the cyberspace, and welcome to another downright hip and groovy edition of the weekly smorgasbord of links, vids, and resident hawtness.  This week I have been more inclined to post snippets and videos rather than essays, simply because this is what caught my fearful yellow eye.

I am aware that there are many big events that transpired around the world this week, momentous happenings that have shattered the cosmos and left people reeling with alternate feelings of amazement and despair, blah blah, blahdy-blah.

And next week it will be entirely new momentous shatterings and the serpent will continue to eat its own tail. Here at the weekly links, consider this your shelter from the worldwide legion of crooks, charlatans, and grifters, better known as politicians, bankers, and economists. I am also feeling in a generous mood so I am going to offer you not one but two hawt chicks of the week! Yes, dear friends, you read that correctly. Pay for three and get two! A bargain in any man’s language.

Enough dither, enough dather, enough blather. On with it.

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Misery loves company. Ask any pimp how he goes about restocking his selection of hookers with some young, firm, and unspoilt female specimens, and his answer will be along these lines: get one teenage girl trapped and then sit back and wait for her to bring in most of her friends.

This tendency to spread around the pain from bad decisions does not recede as people get older; if anything it gets worse. Con men target the elderly not because they’re feeble-minded but because at the end of their lives they’re running out of options and they’re desperate to demonstrate just one last time that all of their bad decisions were flukes and this one is gonna win big I tell ya.

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Boredom was somewhat of a problem for the riverguides when I lived in Uganda. At the time, tourism was down and we were only getting one or two trips a week. We resorted to many activities to make the days pass, most of which included some sort of assistance from chemical or alcoholic substances, not to mention expat chicks, principally daughters of various foreign dignitaries who had no idea what their precious offspring were up to.

One of our daily minor amusements was reading the local newspapers. We had to let the household staff read them first which was part of the fun. It was instructive to observe how the locals took whatever was written in the local rag as being deadly serious, no matter how ridiculous the actual content. Instructive in the sense that when I returned to the First World I was able to better understand how our own media disseminated the same bullshit.

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make no mistake, this is not the hawt chick of the week.

Consistently revolting bush-pig Clementine Ford is in the news again for signing one of her own books with the inscription ‘Have you killed any men today? And if not, why not?

I have to hand it to Ford, she is very good at what she does, and what she does is to stay firmly in the public eye. It would be more accurate to say that Ford is always in the news, for not a week passes without some mindless hate-filled dump of feminist toxicity spewing forth from her bloated mouth, in between taking enormous bites of Jello doughnuts of course.

This doesn’t fail to send conservative writers and media personalities into serious meltdowns as calls are made for her head to be removed, which is easier said than done seeing as you would first have to locate her neck.

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Ask the ordinary man on the street who has little interest in the world outside his own little bubble to name the greatest living scientist today and the answer you get will most probably be something along the lines of the disabled guy in the wheelchair who speaks funny and who was on The Big Bang Theory.

Stephen Hawking is so prominent due to the combination of a very nasty disease and a very smart brain. But this has been spun off into one hell of a career across multiple platforms. The guy hasn’t just trademarked his own name; he has copyrighted his voice, which I suppose is bad luck for anyone else in the future with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis who needs to talk with their cheek muscle.

So it was with some degree of incredulity that I read a comment here on the blog declaring that Hawking is a fake:

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Rollo has a really interesting post this week on the topic of men surrendering themselves to women.

Nothing leaves a man more vulnerable in life, love, family, career, finances and really power over the direction of his life than to invest himself in a woman.

This is something that I have spoken about several times and it is of crucial importance to the modern man. You can stuff up just about any aspect of your life and still be able to pull through okay, but if you are a fool with women then you are leaving yourself in a hopelessly compromised position.

But it was another aspect of Rollo’s post that really made me sit up and take notice.

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Good morning fellow Delcons, morons, insufferables, and hawt chicks everywhere, and welcome to the first links thread from Europe. Normally at this point of the Friday post I would have unloaded after spending the entire week working myself up into great indignation at some event or other. But not today. I am curiously calm, my mind clear. How about that? Must be disappointing for you all. Like reaching down for your Santa sack on Christmas morning and discovering that your miserable parents had got you the cheap-ass pretend Lego instead of the real thing, and right at that moment you knew what deprivation was really about.

Actually, the Lego I didn’t really care about. As long as they had got me the latest and greatest Airfix army men kits, with an emphasis on cool issues like German mountain infantry, then I was cool. Seriously, whoever it was that purchased my childhood home would no doubt still be digging up lost army men in the back garden. But then I graduated to D&D and Airfix almost went into bankruptcy as a result. Hence the Hawking photo. Magic users sucked, mostly because they were called magic users. My preference was to play a thief. Chaotic neutral of course, the alignment that basically let you do whatever the fuck you wanted.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the links and stuff. Letsa see-a whata we havea gotta.

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I am now somewhere in Europe after surviving the always hideous flight all the way from Australia. If you’ve never done two flights back to back that total twenty-four hours in flight time then you don’t know what you’re missing and you probably should never try and find out. I went via Singapore because I refuse to give Arabs any of my money ever again if I can help it. I find it vaguely amusing that so many Mancunians were outraged at the Muslim atrocity at a concert in their city but then they’ll willingly totter off to watch Manchester City play its next match even though the club is almost entirely owned by the deputy prime minister of the UAE.

But I digress.

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By the time you read this I will have left Australia a wanted man.

No, really. I broke the law and I am unrepentant. Maybe they’ll get me some day, maybe they won’t. But I am on the run, on the lam, a fugitive, a black stain on my family’s honor. Accused by a public servant, a government agent, of wrongdoings most heinous.

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You’ve probably heard the one about how you can’t put a frog in hot water, or even tepid water because it immediately recognises the danger, but if you put a frog in cold water and slowly bring it up to the boil then it will boil to death quite happily as it is used to the danger and doesn’t recognise it.

Australians for the most part are the frog in the rapidly boiling pot of water. The boiling water is mass immigration from unsuitable and even hostile cultures, people who have little to no intention of integrating into Australian culture.

Here’s a cool image that I got from Maggie’s Farm.

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