I’m posting old unpublished material to draw page views for my new novel Finally, Some Good News.
My mom got into genealogy. So did your mom. Older women love genealogy the way actresses love astrology. Whereas men know your great grandmother took a hot load from the blacksmith. Blacksmithed.com.
She wanted a certificate that states we’re descendants of the Mayflower. Second cousins to the Roosevelts and Bushes, not schlumps who couldn’t afford to fix the timing chain on our 1984 Ford LTD. The people on the Mayflower thought 1600’s England irreligious. Killed half their own to eke out a pitiful living on a scrap of swamp stolen from Indians whom they’d massacre. I read an old Pilgrim diary. They killed a kid who fucked goats. First they made him watch as the goats he fucked were killed.
The guy we’re descended from was John Howland. An indentured servant. He was the human property of John Carver, who’d become governor of Plymouth Colony. First they had to get there. 100 foot boat with 130 people on it, frigid seawater hissing in through cracked beams. Howland fell off the boat in the middle of the Atlantic. Managed to grab a rope as it sped away.
He survived to be a slave in a tiny cold village the proto-Amish hacked out of the woods by hand. Hauling splintery logs. Beaten. Half the town died that winter. Howland made it through. So did John Carver. So did Carver’s adopted daughter Elizabeth Tilley, 13. Taken in by the Carvers when her parents died on the boat.
The Carvers made it through winter. But not much more. Carver worked his fields on a hot day in April. Returned to his cabin ill. Passed out and died. Goodwyfe Carver shortly after. Howland suppressed a smile at the funerals. His ticket had been punched.
He married the budding teen. In the absence of heirs he was deeded Carver’s prime lands. Took a plot on the beach and impregnated his young wife 11 times.
I think of him now when I avoid death. When the bus mirror misses my head biking drunk and I feel my hair move. You’re a slave. Trapped on a death vessel headed from one hell to the next. But you never know what’s coming. One day the beatings. The next, oceanfront property. Succulent nubile teens. Excelsior.
delicioustacos 
2 new poasts in one day. nice. there’s 25 days left of shillbruary.
i hope you’re chugging Bulletproof Coffee® and practicing positivity gratitude mindset. good vibes only.
one last thing: i know you hate advice, but this might be some feedback to consider:
you know how heartiste has that disclaimer under the donate button. that *might* be something good to have for your web-blog, given that your comments section is the way it is. also some sort of disclaimer saying your writing is fictional satire and that you’ll always be a goodgoy bluepill berniebro who loves all women because the future is female. just an idea. always CYA.
take care tacos. hope your book sales moved up to a satisfactory level. i gotta go do stuff.
Good one, really liked it. Thank God for that rope, eh?
I like blacksmithed.com b/c the girls stumble away filthy and covered in soot. Visibly sullied beyond redemption like it should be. Seeing them bent over the anvil to receive a nice meat-hammering makes my soft dick poot wispy stringers of tapioca over the coarse Mediterranean hair on my thighs, which I leave to dry since I rarely vacate my computer chair as it is. I can only shoot soft now b/c I watch so much blacksmithed.com it gave me porn-induced ED.
Tacos did you realize your “chicks only like guys who other chicks already like” rule has been formalized with a fancy name and all? You can talk with impressionable young ladies about this and appear somewhat intelligent, thank me later:
https://woodybelangia.com/what-is-mimetic-theory/
del tacos 1st novel has reduced in price…wagh! perchance a shrewd /biz/tard would buy at this low point and thusly read to glean whatever practical knowledge is written inside its covers, such as: a young woman’s love is warmer than the summer sun but alas it does come with its toils, like having to hear her fart.
p.s. having a face that looks like the male sarah jessica parker shan’t be the worst fate…women love sjp…she’s the most iconic female character of the 2000’s. the face that launched a thousand trips to NYC. millions of sluts flew to the big apple to pursue that type of metropolitan lifestyle. you should be thankful and, dare i say, prideful of your unique SJP horseface. she’s still getting work, by the way…paid at least a million shekels to appear in a lame beer commercial.
at least her titties look perky. THEY are putting our foreskin to good use. $800+ creme that removes wrinkles for 30 days. ask your cosmetic surgeon about it. anyway, it looks like we’ve lived long enough to see jeff bridges reprise his most popular role just to shill some shitty mass-produced pisswater. what a time to be alive. nothing stays pure in this world.
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The last thought really captures the american dream for me. I don’t want fame or money, the only lottery I’d like to win would cull 25% of the males and everyone else would roll for the chance of a potential new wife.
Classic Delicious Tacos
congrats on successbul shillbruary. john howland looks over his shoulder, catches a glimpse of you with a hot ovulating 19 yr old gf seated in a posh cafe, and with a proud twinkle in his eye he gives you a nod like alfred did at the end of nolan’s batman trilogy.