Old Sluts: the Root of Circumcisions

Old sluts are responsible for the circumcision of their grandchildren.  There aren’t any considerable health benefits to circumcision . . . especially when hunter and gatherer societies conducted the act of circumcising before the availability of antibacterial products and anesthesia.  Grandmas helped young mothers raise children because grandma already passed childbearing age and had the time to help.  Grandma, in her old sluttiness, insisted on circumcision being conducted in her grandchildren.

Men have loads of nerve endings in their penis tips so that they will enjoy sex – leading to the proliferation of the species.  Men also have masses of nerve endings in their fingers, so that they can be sensitive to touch.  Human fingers become less sensitive to touch over the course of human lives because the skin over fingers grows thicker and more leathery as man consistently touches rough surfaces.  It’s a protection measure for man’s nerve endings.  Laborers grow thicker skin over their fingers (callouses) than non-laborers.  But, no matter what man’s occupation as he ages his fingers become less sensitized.  The same thing happens to the exposed (circumcised) tip of the penis.  An exposed tip rubs against rough clothing and over time penises lose sensitivity.  The foreskin, if left uncut, protects the penis and sustains its moisture so that it won’t grow leathery and remains sensitive. 

The climax of a woman is more prolonged than a man’s.  It takes her longer to get there.  There’s nothing more disappointing to a woman about sex than premature ejaculation.  High sensitivity in the penis causes premature ejaculation.  Hunter and gatherer grandmothers, over the course of their lives, had multiple partners in the sack.  They spent hours, days, and weeks talking with other sluts about their sexual experiences.  Collectively, they realized that circumcised men lasted longer in the hay, and satisfied women more often than uncircumcised men.  Grandma insisted on the circumcision of her grandchildren.  -antiwasp

Filed under: Culture, Evolution, Parenting, Relationships, Time, World Wide Policy

The Love and Hate of a Cog

I adore the epiphany that I’m a small part of something larger, when I, as a cog, can see the output of the machine.  I hate being a cog in the machine when the machine expends its cogs, or disregards the individual efforts of each cog. 

I appreciate being an American when we rally to help people in need after Katrina, or 9/11, or when we rallied together and rose for a cause such as in the Occupy Movement.  In these instances I knew that we had a significant effect on America’s future, and I helped with my small cog portion.  I’m revolted in my Americanism when I reflect on how much money General Electric made last year, without paying taxes, and I realize that the son a CEO will never work for survival.  I then realize that I will work for survival in the American Machine until the day I die.  I’m possibly more talented than the son – but we will never play on level playing fields. 

I value my place in the Army when I contemplate being the most lethal fighting force in the world, or when I think of the many cases where we helped needy people in Iraq or Kuwait.  I know I played a part.  I can’t stand the Army when I see cut backs, and Generals with Congress chucking people who sacrificed for their country . . . dumping Soldiers without a pension after they damaged their bodies, minds, and families on missions they were told to execute.  It’s cruel to order someone to sacrifice for you, and then abandon them.

I cherish my role in the family unit with parents, children, grandparents, uncles, and aunts.  I love that I’m expected to lend a hand to anyone of the people in my family if they need it, and to know they would reciprocate.  I detest being the butt of someone else’s anger or jealousy in the pettiness of other people’s gossip within the family unit.  -antiwasp

Filed under: Economy, Military, Parenting, Politics, Relationships, Wisdom

Yoda and Parenting Guidance

I need Yoda again.  Growing up I learned that the Ninja Turtles always had Splinter to query when they needed advice on life’s toughest questions, Frodo had Gandalf, Harry had Dumbledore, Neo had Morpheus, I’m sure Merlin helped some folks out, and Dre seemed to be guiding Snoop.  The point is that we’re supposed to have mentors.  Someone should be here to tell me when I need to change directions and adapt my strategy.  But I have no one. 

I know that as my children grow older I should do less “babying” and introduce more responsibility acceptance.  I also know that it’s labor intensive to teach children responsibility because I’m effectively tearing them off mom’s fucking teat.  The proper strategy, in my under-humble opinion, is to do tasks for them that they CANNOT do for themselves, but to not do tasks for them that they CAN do for themselves.  It’s an easy guideline to follow and allows for little confusion and contradiction in parenting policy between Wifey and I.  The “Can or Can’t” Plan would also ensure we wouldn’t hold them back or push them too much.  But, of course Wifey thinks I’m pushing too hard.  I think she’s raising some lil’ bitches and I’m raising mature men. 

I can’t afford to fuck this up.  If Wifey’s wrong the children will grow to become little hoe cakes, too spoiled to keep a job, and probably annoying everyone they meet.  If I’m wrong the children will be overly competitive, too aggressive, harsh, not fun loving, and in need of therapy.  Where the fuck is Yoda?  That motherfucker owes me some answers.  I’ll tell you think much.  I’ll Yoda the shit outta my kids once I figure all this stuff out.  I need to choose the right path, the road less travelled.  My children will contain the knowledge to lead the Voters’ Revolution . . . I just need to instill the right qualities to do it without damaging them in the process.  -antiwasp

Filed under: Lessons Learned, Parenting, Relationships, Self Actualization, Wisdom