Wrong Move
I watched the movie Wrong Turn on the weekend.
Yawn.
Where to begin – apparently genetic inbreeding only causes you to look really ugly and makes you unable to speak properly. Physically you still possess the size and strength of the strongest weightlifters and you still maintain a high enough level of intelligence to learn how to drive and to make bows and arrows and all manner of home made traps and snares.
Then there is the scene where they are hiding in the house and from their various hidey holes see these hillbillies cutting up the bodies of their friends. They wait for the hillbillies to fall asleep then try and sneak out of the house.
Now if I had just seen that happening I would be thinking “Fuck! When they wake up they are going to come looking for the rest of us.”
The obvious answer is to not let them wake up. There were no shortage of weapons available in the shack. Someone asleep on his stomach, grab a big knife and stab him through the neck at the base of his skull severing the spinal column from his brain – he is not waking up.
One of them lying on his back, stick it into his throat and twist as you pull it out. This will carve out his larynx and trachea so he can’t breathe or make a sound as he quickly bleeds out.
And for someone lying on his side – take the nice sharp axe and bring it down hard anywhere on the head or neck.
All quick and quiet and permanent so you don’t have to worry about them waking up and chasing you around their neck of the woods, picking you off one by one.
But no. The guys in that group were pussies who ran away from sleeping opponents. You think I am above killing someone in their sleep? Nope. When it is a case of “me or you” it is always going to be you – regardless of how I find you when it is time for you – sleeping, wounded, eating, looking the other way – does not matter to me.
Those guys were probably on Queer Eye for the Soon to be Fag Guy. What a shit show. It turns men into pussies. Well – most of the guys are not real men anyway. Real men take pride in their houses (usually because real men build their own houses) and don’t live squalor. Real men do not ask for help with their women. If you need to ask someone how to clean yourself up to keep your woman then as far as I am concerned you do not deserve her.
I am a real man - If I can’t fuck it, I want to kill it.
I only wear a suit when I need to (i.e business meetings)
I don’t use hair conditioner or various facial cleansers
I don’t need to dress up in designer label clothes to go to the video store to get a dvd or to the grocery to buy milk.
I don’t need designer label clothes to bum around home. Ripped shorts and a tank top is fine.
Ripped shorts and a tank top is not fine for anything other than bumming around home.
I don’t need to act like a pussy and discuss the latest interior designs or the latest hydrating hand and facial creams or next season’s fashion by some frog felcher in Paris to attract a woman. Any woman attracted to that shit will end up leaving you for another woman so why bother?
I was thinking that us real men are a dying breed (and maybe we are) but I did see another real man on tv. Scare Tactics has finally made its way onto our screens and this one involved a monster ripping the throats out of goats on Shannon Doherty’s ranch. They see the monster head into the shadows towards where her horses are and the ranch manager runs after it and is apparently killed by it.
The guy says to get back to the house and call the police but she says “My horse is there. I don’t want to leave it.” So this guy starts walking to the shadows. Then he runs back and says “Give me something to bash its head with” so Shannon gives him her walkie talkie and he starts heading towards the horses and this monster.
Now this guy had no idea what was waiting for him except that is was big and it had killed a goat and the ranch manager who had a rifle. He had no idea how strong or fast this thing was or how many teeth or claws it had or if it was venomous or not - yet he still started heading towards it. He was going to take it on with a walkie talkie!
I would have done the same because I would not want to look like a pussy in front of Shannon Doherty. Plus – think of the hero it would make me were I to kill this horrible monster with a walkie talkie.
I would have fought dirty and thrown a handful of sand in its face to blind it, bashed it with the walkie talkie to knock it down, then proceeded to stomp its head into pulp (always more satisfying to feel the crack of bone and squish of brain matter under your foot). I would then have triumphantly dragged its carcass back to Shannon in one hand and led the horse safely with the other.
She would be so happy to find a real man who would take charge and put himself in danger and not be a big pussy worried about his hair or his clothes that we would go upstairs and have hot primitive sex all night.
Score one for the real men you pussies
Even if Shannon is a real bitch as the rumours suggest I still want to have hot primitive sex with her. I mean it is not her personality I would be aiming to fuck..
© by Tiberius Alatheus 2004