Category Archives: Frame

Family traditions; welcome home baby

Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.

There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.

So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.

Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.

These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.

Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last get from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of

I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go.  I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation

Alpha in music from the gash’s point of view

 

Hate Myself For Loving You”

Midnight, gettin’ uptight, where are you?
You said you’d meet me, now it’s quarter to two
I know I’m hangin’ but I’m still wantin’ you
Hey Jack, it’s a fact they’re talkin’ in town
I turn my back and you’re messin’ around
I’m not really jealous, don’t like lookin’ like a clown
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Uh

Daylight, spent the night without you
But I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout the lovin’ you do
I’m over being angry ’bout the hell you put me through
Hey, man, bet you can treat me right
You just don’t know what you was missin’ last night
I wanna see you begging, say forget it just for spite
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Huh

I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself
I hate myself for loving you

In the intrest of full disclosure, Joan Jett use to make my motor run something ferice

Keep on trucking

I don’t normally write much about long-term life with women. Mostly because my marriage was a train wreck and I have had more success pulling chicks and nexting bitches then keeping them around but things with The Girls have been going well for awhile now. Even after this last meat grinder of a year. I can’t recall the last anything resembling a shit tests and when things looked their worst this year, The Girls never wavered. They never bitched when our budget was cut by more then half, they never got pissy when I hit the road to clear my head. No second guessing. No nagging or pitty parties.

That’s a new experience for me. Times past, women added stress. From the beginning The Girls have made it a habit to talk about me in the 3rd person as if I am not there. Its always amused me. When The Girls talk about me/ us etc it’s no longer about how masculine I am, or how I am an asshole or impossible to live with or how could they both love an asshole so much etc etc

These days the Girls mostly mention how much fun they have with me. I am not sure why the evolution in their discussions but it has been an interesting change, one I didn’t notice until recently. Could a sense of shared adventure be key to LTR success? One would think I started out fun then became an impossible to live with asshole, isn’t that the script? I reckon it took them awhile to fully submit to my frame and adjust to The Ton life. Even the small stuff like eating off those tin camping plates, using dutch ovens over open fires to make supper, fire pit,  smores and wine almost nightly is a departure from their norm.

They never camped before me, didn’t know you could wrap eggs, sausage and hash browns in aluminum foil, toss it on a fire and have breakfast in a few minutes. Never caught fish let alone turn the fish into lunch, right there on the beach by wrapping the fish in foil and tossing it on the fire. Or made chicken stew in a Dutch over over a campfire.

Now all that is old news, but last weekend was our 1st trip off roading. During the build, The Girls were all sickly sweet looks and skeptical smiles but I knew they would enjoy the end results. Girl#2 has always been all about mechanical mayhem and I knew she would enjoy it. Girl#1 gets all smiley and pissed when I do burnouts on the bike or Mustang, but you can tell she loves it, embarrassed about loving it, but loves it, so I was pretty sure she would enjoy the off roading trip.

What I didn’t expect is how much they would enjoy it.

Now the truck isn’t the most radical off road ride but she’ll get the job done. And then some. I lifted it and all that kind of stuff but where I went a little off course is setting it up for camping. We have a camper shell on it, put a homemade rail system in the bed so we can store stuff and slide it all out when we need it and built a bedframe above that so we can sleep on a very comfy foam mattress. A roof rack holds the extra tires, fuel and what not, we can put two kayaks on top of the camper shell if we choose. It ain’t pretty but it’s gets the job done.

Girls eat up attention,and we got a lot of attention. The off road truck/ camper combo was a hit with the other people in the camp site, so was the dog. The Lady Pit is striking, with a big, big friendly personality. We cooked out, and in high fashion. Slept on a nice foam mattress, woke up and had those egg, sausage and hash brown bombs….. we were the talk of the camp ground and I could tell Girl#2 was eating it all up with a spoon, and Girl#1 was enjoying herself as well but in her more reserved manner.

Then we got on the trail. The 1st thing I did was some donuts in the mud, slinging that stuff everywhere while the dog tried to climb in my lap and The Girls laughed like fools. We ran two trails, and I let them run a beginner trail and they were all “we love you” and big smiles. And proud of themselves for driving their 1st off road course.

A week later and it’s about all they talk about.

From a Game perspective there is a lot going on; displays of mastery, demonstrating higher value, pre selection as the other girls at the camp flocked around the rig, talked up my cooking etc etc but but don’t ignore Cindy Lauper’s advice either

I have been deliberate in choosing the outdoor life. These things are fun but there is a larger purpose behind most of what I do. There are certain things I want my son’s to learn. About themselves and about the world, some of which can only be learned outdoors. Some things can only be learned in the ring, others in team sports but the boys are to young for the ring or the ball field.  There are family tradtions I want to preserve for another generation. Skill sets I dont want to see pass away. There are things I want them to do. I want my family to eat certian things and in certian ways. I want these things because they will make my boys better men. I was deliberate in choosing off-roading vs dirt bikes too. I prefer two wheels to 4 but it will be years before the boys can sit a bike but at this point it should all be fun

Have a mission, bend them to your will, have fun

Self-sucfiency, Jack of all trades… ie being a man in a world full of Mancy’s

Cill got me to thinking, dangerous pastime, I know, about how men who were not raised up by traditionally masculine men can address their condition and improve their standing among men.

Being good at being a man entails being as independent as possible and reasonable… ie self-sufficient. It is unrealistic for all men to be good at all things, but most men should and can be reasonably good with their hands. A good stiff jab, a hard straight right hand, a wicked hook, a better upper cut, the ability to repair most shit around the house, to keep your rides tuned and road worthy and the ability  to get yourself out of a bind when your ride doesnt behave isn’t an unreasonable skill set to have and will do much to up your man score.

Nor do these things require a massive investment of time, energy and other resources. Lestwise not when you factor in the return on your investment. Basic plumbing class at the local community college is $85. A turd herder will charge you $40-$60 to come out and replace the inner workings of your shitter. Which takes…. 20 minutes & a $20 kit from Lowe’s. Need to replace the seal between your shitter and floor? That’s going to run you over a hondo for a $15 seal. Spark chasers will charge you $25 to replace a $2.50 outlet. Most HAVAC problems are simple as hell if you know a few tricks, go learn those tricks…. $105 at my local community college.  Knowing a tad bit about automobiles will save you time and money, bring you a sense of accomplishment, and keep you from getting fucked over by the slimy versions of mechanics on the big jobs. Hell the school has a 6 week class focused on repairing common mechanical problems with your car on the side of the road.

Knowing how to do these things, even at a rudimentary level, will bring you standing among men and women. As much as popular culture likes to run down these old school markers of traditional masculinity, the world still responses well to traditionally masculine men.  Imagine discussing your weekend plans and how bad ass it will sound when you tell the chumps you are building a deck while they go shopping with their wives…let those bitches hold sone bitch’s purse. You got man shit to do.  Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride as you learn to rely on yourself more and other men less.

Especially  you nerdy office drone types.

20 minutes from Camp Ton Costal is my county’s community college where you can learn to weld, learn to do those basic repairs to your house, car/ truck, boat or bike. You can learn to sew, learn to cook, learn to make beer, learn to ride a bike, fix a bike and how to do the same things but on boats. Hell you can also learn to fly, do shit with computers, take photographs and get help creating a buiness plan and start your own bidness

Go forth and learn some cool shit and go do said cool shit.

Paying the cost to be the boss

 

Paying The Cost To Be The Boss”

You act like you don’t want to listen
When I’m talking to you
You think you outta do baby
Anything you wanna do
You must be crazy baby
You just gotta be outta your mind
As long as I’m payin’ the bills woman
I’m payin’ the cost to be the bossI’ll drink if I want to
And play a little poker too
Don’t you say nothing to me
As long as I’m taking care of you
As long as I’m workin baby
And payin’ all the bills
I don’t want no mouth from you
About the way I’m supposed to live
You must be crazy woman
Just gotta be outta your mind
As long as I foot the bills
I’m payin’ the cost to be the bossNow that you got me
You act like you ashamed
You don’t act like my woman
You just usin’ my name
I tell you I’m gonna have all the money
And I don’t want no back-talk
Cause if you don’t like the way I’m doin’
Just pick up your things and walk
You gotta be crazy baby
You must be outta your mind
As long as I’m payin’ the bills woman
I’m payin’ the cost to be the boss

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/bbking/payingthecosttobetheboss.html

That’s old school man thinking right there, and it still keeps the bitches damp in the panties.
I see the same guys in the man o sphere struggling with the same stuff. Some guys have been dumping their purse on us for so long I no longer give a damn what happens to to them. Some guys are 2 steps forward, 1 step back, others 1 step forward, 2 steps back.
Do you know how the typical guy wins a bar fight? It ain’t no fancy pants Asian dance moves. He steps forward and keeps swinging, no matter how many times he gets punched in the face and he keeps at it until the other guy breaks.
Life is a bar brawl. I love these guys who keep going forward no matter how hard life punches them in the face. They are paying the cost to be the boss. I despies these guys who keep dumping their purse on us, going no where, expecting us to be their life long emotional tampon.
These guys in the thick of life’s bar brawl, these magnificent losers are going to win. Maybe they won’t have money in the bank and a string of 20 year old hotties in their bed but they will be men worthy of the name as long as they keep brawling, doing what they can to live on their terms, dominating the world and people around them

Intelligence and tingles

For whatever vagaries of life, intelligence and tingles seems to have come up rather frequently. Mostly in comment sections, and mostly men bitching that women prefer less intelligent men, followed up with some speculation less intelligent men being easier for women to manipulate.

Betas should be very careful in how they word things as generally speaking, such bitching just makes them look like bitches. Any experienced man will be able to tell the difference between wondering about a topic and bitching. Anything close to bitching about bitches will have bitches labeling you as a bitch in nanoseconds.

Chicks dig masculinity. If you display your intelligence in a masculine manner, chicks will dig you. If you display your intelligence through nerd culture or lecturing regular folks about shit they don’t care about you’ll come across as beta, dorky or pretentious…. maybe all 3.  The smartest guy I know likes to lecture Star War nerds on why the science stuff in Star Wars is pure bullshit…..Yup he has to pay for pussy.

My grandfather had a PhD in physics. Way back when the atom still needed splitting, super nerds were working on that and my maternal grandfather was leading a Ranger platoon on D-Day. After that he became a rocket scientist. No shit. His area was guidance systems. In his days, most smart guys grew up on a farm. They had masculine bodies, masculine hands, masculine hobbies ( mine was into killing deer and hot rods) and mostly like had killed some kruts or japs… mine was apparently better at logistics and intell stuff.

Yes he was a math nerd but he also killed deer and duck when he got the chance, fixed all the shit around the house, built his own motors for his hot rods, witnessed a shit ton of nuclear tests and at work, the nerds built and installed the guidance systems. No farming out the grunt work

He was also a hard drinker, gambler and ladies man. In his younger days.

Today’s smart guys tend to be the biggest pussies imaginable. That’s on top of how soft most men seem to be in general. Also what you as a smart guy find intresting might not be of intrests to other folks around you. Especially women.

If you are an intelligent man and struggling with women, take an honest look at your life, hobbies and how you present yourself. That’s what’s holding you back. Not how smart you are.

Red Pill music

 

 

Ladies Love Outlaws”

Bessie was a lovely child from west Tennessee
Leroy was an outlaw wild as a mink
One day she saw him starin’ and it chilled her to the bone
And she knew she had to see that look on a child of her own.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Linda was a lady blonde and built to last
Benny was a no good guitar picker runnin’ from his past
She heard all of his songs tellin’ nothin’ but bad news
But she made her mind up to try to get him win or lose.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Jessi like the Cadillacs and diamonds on her hands
Waymore had a reputation as a ladie’s man
Late one night a light of love finally gave a sign
Jessi parked her Cadillac and took her place in line.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul…