Rant Time: Feeding the Trolls

It’s been nearly 2 months since my last rant, and in case anyone was also alarmed by this unusual behaviour, I most sincerely intend to rectify this situation post-haste. I’m sure everyone has happened upon a few haters in their daily-grind, one can hardly navigate their existence on the interwebs of global assholes anonymous without stumbling upon anonymous assholes. This is especially true when you happen to be a fellow like me; an unabashed, in-your-face, freaky, dominant alpha sex-god. I have a general policy however of not engaging said haters on whatever social media platforms that I encounter these low-lifes. A wise maxim best summed up as “Don’t Feed the Trolls”. It doesn’t mean however, that I don’t have a massive surplus of opinions on the subject, a case to state, were I ever to engage in such an exercise…

I understand that the average basement-dwelling neaderthals-hater is, as a species, largely incapable of comprehending a Chad on such an elevated level as is my entire existence. Their worldview is based upon the fundamental principle that women are only driven by resource advantage to engage in the sort of decadently-depraved sex-acts that they’ve only ever witnessed in pornography, but such are my everyday reality…

I suppose I don’t blame the people whom, by reason of the abundance of false-claimants to the titles of Daddy, or Dominant, that all such claimants shall be dismissed out-of-hand, but alas, I happen to be one of the realest players in the game that you will ever stumble upon, I just also happen to be on social media, like most of everyone else on this planet…

The simple fact of the matter is, that I am not just ‘the man’ now, but I have been, have always been, ‘the man’, since sometime in the 1990’s. Back before half of these haters and young-bucks were born, back before 50 Shades made it cool, before fetlife, and social media of all stripes made it cliche, I was grinding out a solid and respectable career in kinky-fuckery, earning my stripes, in an in-person, full-body contact, extreme sport, and let me tell you I made it to the pros…

More facts, I’ve never pursued a women in my life, they’ve always pursued me, I merely parry or allow a woman past my guard in order to enter into negotiations. And those negotiations never have included payment from me, the cash has always flowed in the opposite direction. Yes, I’m that good…So good that women worship me as a god, freely, of their own volition. So good in fact that women have paid me, have kept me, have paid tribute to me as is appropriate and necessary. And these trolls are playing the role of thinly-veiled creepy ‘reply-guy’ when they aren’t busy hating on legit-ass mofo’s such as myself…

Part of the problem I suppose, is that due to the nature of social media, much of the intangibles of physical presence are lost in the process. If you were ever to be graced to be in the same room as me, or a passerby to my in-person glory, you would have to submit to the copious amounts of authenticity that I readily exude, by virtue of the decades of world-class realness that comprises my life experience…IRL people step-back rather than step-up when faced with my presence. Nobody dares doubt that I am every bit of the BDSM freak that my openly displayed bondage and sadomasochism gear suggests, people are a bit intimidated, a bit intrigued, a bit scared, and a whole lot of cautious and respectful when they meet me…

But I guess that is really the whole point, that even though I might have a decades-old stock-pile of ammunition to rival Cold-War era America with which to rant on, at length, to any trolls and haters, the reality is that there aren’t any haters and trolls harassing me right now. Even the most involuntarily-celibate among them, recognize a true player when they see one…

 

 

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