No, no, hells no, nobody wanz ta read dat!
That’s right massa—a raspberry sherbet en a bottle of Don Cristobol Rum… heh, heh!
Rating Women: Revised!
Stevedore Jackson Sets the Jiggle Pop Ratings Record Straight
You know what that devil was gonna have me write:
-How many negroes would you kill for dat bitch?
-How many devils would you sass ta scratch her itch?
-How man poleese would you kill for dat bitch catchin’ yo pitch?
You get it, right. As if your ass was Conan the Barbarian piling up foes to impress the ladies. No, we are passed all that. Now the best you can hope for is to be Bonan the Contrarian, outwitting fools in pursuit of some stone cold witch.
In the current sorry state of affairs there are only four feminine characteristics that a real man concerns himself with:
-Plentitude
-Amplitude
-Aptitude
-Attitude
One now precedes from lesser to greater in order of harmonious importance.
Plentitude is the size and quality of them titties compared to the girth of her waist. You see, having tits clues a bitch in to her purpose—supposing they are God-given and not manmade. The bigger they are, the more clued in she is and you will notice that big titty bitches are very rarely witches, but rather kind and nice, used to giving ground when elbowed and giving milk when properly pile drove. Come on, you want a nice girl like Dolly Parton or some mean bitch what starved herself so she could suck the highest earning dick in the Devil’s garden? Also, big titty bitches are smarter, due to the extra fat storage that feeds the brain in times of dearth.
-Exception, a good bitch with little titties might make up for her lack of endowment by growing a big mess of hair which demonstrates her willingness to obey and to have young ones use her like furniture and playground equipment, overall a sign of a mild disposition.
Amplitude is the girth and depth and perk of that ass, compared to the waist, which is an indication of birthing capacity and top girl rapacity. It is a fact that girls with big asses are more energetic and more likely to help an old fella out between the sheets, and when you a hundred-and-twenty-two a fat-assed top girl will do. They also bear more children.
What is really good in present circumstances, is that all of these gay men who design clothes for women that are human coat hangers have got the women with the goods thinking that they are ugly-shaped because they are not built like 13-year-old Afghan boys. So you can use her own low self-image to lure her into your service.
So much for the physicality; ideally, she is a mix of the two—lots of tits and ass.
Now we got to get down to the brass tacks, or should I say, the wits and sass.
Aptitude is all the skills of a woman. Now, most young fellas today don’t see any difference in womanly skills and manly skills because they are bitches they own selves. Heh, take it up with Mister Devil, who owns my black ass, including my opinions!
I suggest some womanly ability to make money from home, like being an accountant, quilt-maker, baby-sitter or such, so what she can breed and help make up for the fact that manly occupations are dwindling due to that invisible hand that is busily swindling us all.
Attitude is the most important thing, of course. So if she’s got little itty bitty titties and some ghost girl rump, well, you can let that slide. Now, if she is such a spritely thing, you need to put a mess of babies in there, because skinny little things tend to shape out right nice after their third child, whereas some Dominican babe with the perfect 20-year-old body is like to blow up into some monstrosity once she pops out two of them. The most important things about attitude is that the woman does not:
-Think you should be her best girlfriend,
-Think you should bare your entire soul to her prying mind,
-Think that a man and a woman should see things the same way.
That about covers it—en that cracker jack still ain’t back.
-Stevedore Jackson
Alienation Nation: Surviving Cultural Free Fall
This is totally retarded yet makes perfect sense. Bravo.
JJ, from such an excellent writer as yourself, this is the highest compliment I could imagine and I will use it for a blurb on an upcoming book!
A proper crackpot, with Faustian thrust, must remove himself from business English and merchant sensibilities, and communicate as irrationally as a solitary soul singing a raw aria at midnight in an Italian Opera. The more removed he is from connect-the-dots and 9 to 5 language, the better he is as a man who imposes his own understanding. One doesn’t shake his fist at the stars using anything but local slang. At the hour of reckoning, one fuckin’ reverts to home breeding.
In any case, great writing is like opera: it doesn’t make sense and it makes perfect sense.
I’m doing the European “picaro” thing, a kinda low-rent Opera Buffa in America. You’re doing something else. I don’t know what it is. Maybe you don’t know what it is. But don’t worry, the critics will categorize it when you're safely dead.
Thanks for the encouragement JJ.
It means a lot coming from you.