Still trying mightily to get back into a writing groove. Realize any number of AI LLMs (Large Language Models) could simply scour my psyche and write about life from my perspective, much better than I could…still, it is fun for me to do things manually! So, here I am, slurring my keys!
Just made love to both wives, “Little Man,” Tereza’s son fell asleep early. Tereza’s accent has taken on a rather odd and mellifluous blend of Czech, Bulgarian and Russian, but in English she said to me, “He’s asleep, we want to rape you!” Ahh, whamen!
We have moved to Southern Europe, for no other reason than I now let The Wives dictate Familial life, after so many decades of being a rather benevolent dictator over Christine (herself logical, as women go!). Tereza just wants to travel places, and use her beauty to attract other couples on nude beaches! She is pretty voracious, pregnant, not pregnant. I have dubbed her, Queen of the Vertical!
Christine is the alpha-female, and I normally listen much more to her desires, than Tereza’s! If I listened to Tereza, none of us would ever get out of the bed, and it would have 12 people in it!
Swedes used to make great wives, until the cucked Swedish men allowed Achmed & Sons to come in (well, I should say after the jews at HIAS brought them in) and fuck their blondes, and far worse, allowed female “leadership!” Idiots! Could be worse, my ancestral home, Germany, is so cucked their “Conservative/Fascist” Party, the AfD, is led by a lesbian jew who married some black as shit Nepalese lesbo. I am sorry Uncle A, we will fix it. \o HH!
Christine insists, I nail her first, as she requires quite a 30–45-minute pounding, and I ain’t getting any younger. Tereza either watches us, “preps” Christine, cracks jokes, or curls up into a rather lovely, naked ball, and holds Christine’s hand. Sometimes my hand, other times, ahhh, well, never mind!! Lovemaking hasn’t really become “perfunctory,” but since last year we exceeded all the Moral Boundaries of a Tradcon life, this threesome thing is our “new TradCon normal!” I’m not complaining, although I sure did want to add the young Pomok girl from Varna to the Harem! I still think about her. And we have had a few Signal calls.
I’m re-reading The Bible, as near-death experiences, of which the beating was not my first, often seem to demand some tethering to what remains of the “Sane World.” Tereza, being the much more vociferous of the two, and the more Bohemian, keeps probing me for my perspectives on The Testaments, both Old and New. She gets frustrated when I tell her, “Well written, excellent Marketing!”
We are in a city I wrote about last year, when this hyper-sexualized phase of our lives began. Sitting in the back of a Czech car, with a dumpy guy driving, as his wife flashed her most precious assets at me, with my wife thinking it was funny! Like I said, the OG Swedes make great wives!
Don’t know much about life in the JUSA. Suspect the Trumpenstein Honeymoon Phase is winding down a bit, that it gets browner and deeper in debt daily, and the fucking jews cackle and rubs hands in some dark, blood sacrifice Chabad tunnels, thinking we White Men will never unite and tear their filthy heads off. We will.
“AC (Anti-Communist) you sound a bit down.” Not at all, you try hammering two women for 90 minutes, then see how much energy you have! On a good note, Tereza still prefers to do all the work. Teutonic Efficiency, even in the bedroom!
Christine was crying the other day. My wife has displayed more emotions the past two years than the previous two decades. I asked the question all men dread asking a woman they love (as the answers are often very long, and not really answers!) “What’s wrong Angel?” “I love you. We almost lost you. And the way the world is going, you are going to catalyze and die in a racial Civil War, and I will kind of miss you, Husband.”
“Aye, but you have Tereza, and the children. Our daughter, who has turned out remarkably well. I have a tidy insurance policy or two, and you can always re-marry.” She glared at me.
“I could have divorced you and remarried. I could have married much wealthier men. They chased me! Do you even know how many men made passes at me since we first tied the knot? I love you. I have never said that to any other man. I do not want you to be so eager to die for a war that humanity will just fight again in a few hundred years.”
One of the knocks I have against the weak men I worked with in the Corporate World, was their preference for pleasure, over discipline. Indulgence, over the joy of honor, struggle, duty and delaying instant gratification. Recall many a desert hike, carrying just enough water to survive, not enough to indulge. It made me feel alive, primordial, as our oldest ancestors felt as they learned about fire, horticulture, and the preservation of health.
So, I looked into Christine’s still GORGEOUS eyes. Have always loved them, albeit less than her hair! “Do you want to know a secret Angel?” “Only if it is a nice one!” “it is very nice to be loved, and to have a woman I love, tell me she prefers I remain alive. Sadly, not all men can make that claim.” The Ice Princess, hugged and kissed me. She is damn strong.
We are renting a HUGE 6-bedroom villa, for only $3500/USD/Month. It has big gardens, which the girls love tending. When I got back from riding in San Diego, they were each all over tan, although Christine has purchased perhaps every sun umbrella in the town stores! There must be five of them out in the large yard. Tereza was Czeck Brown (red!) but my sun avoiding Swede was dark. They looked yummy. My adopted son (who is a narc, I have told him not to gossip!) told me, “I am glad you are home Dad! My mom and Aunt Christine lie outside naked, and the neighbors walk by and watch them!” “Son, men like pretty girls, especially naked!” “Yuck.”
Seems the girls can not quite find a yoga studio they like. This is a smaller town, and has not had a massive influx of wealthy snots from somewhere else. Asked Tereza why she didn’t like the studio. She sounded sort of like truly pretty Hollywood movie actresses from the 1940’s, “well, let me think. I like to tease men, and there are none. I like to compete with women, and Christine is the only competition.” Hey, I didn’t make women, and I am glad she is honest with me, even if at times, a little vapid!
I told Tereza that her boy is getting older, and to not be so overtly sexual around him. She is always naked, and always saying things young boys do not need to know! Christine overheard me trying to tame Tereza, and they both laughed! Tereza reminded me her family is predicated upon “semi-conservative principles, everywhere but the genitals!” Hey, perhaps the sheer comedy of human ideological norms has worn me down. Maybe it is the pain my battered skull feels if I try to think too hard or long about anything.
Humanity is fighting an epic battle. Ideological. Sexual. Racial. Since we are the first nearly fully on-line generation, we think it hasn’t ever happened previously. However, we have been doing it since the first zygote, or since we were formed from the first of things He thought were good. Or, the first rib. However God did it, or He allowed Nature, also His, to develop such odd and splendid creatures. Above my pay grade. Even when I was at my cerebral prime. Which, I admit, is no longer the case!
We are going out tonight. Beach town! Tereza has on a VERY short and see through White linen dress. She has put on, and taken off various panties about 15x, with Christine ardently coaching her as to what can and can’t be seen. I think Christine is on my side, and prefers less be seen, but she vacillates! We all know those panties will not be on for dinner, lucky waiters. I can’t really stop her; I don’t really want to. Being desired is important to Tereza, as being admired is to me. Biological imperatives. Yes, she is often degenerate. So is this entire arrangement. We looked for Nations that allow polyamory, but none of us were dying to live in Iran! Not that it doesn’t have its charms.
But we are White. And White people should live with White people, and endeavor to build homogeneity, and common cultures and religions. Race is Nation. We are not Indo-Aryans, we are Aryans.
Little boy can do 15 solid pushups! Impressive, and despite being a bit gangly, he is putting on some muscle. Life’s good, on this Friday evening, the 9th day of May, in the Year of Our Lord, 2025. World has 4 billion or so Leftists in it, and a Kike Cabal running and ruining it, but we will eat local and freshly caught fish, drink some astringent wine, Tereza will hike her dress up the more wine is had, Christine will slide her hand between her legs to “cover her,” where it will remain for an hour, some people will make dirty faces at us, but it will not be the men!
Hail Victory Substackians. I began to write because I was a repressed National Socialist, with boring jobs, that paid very well, and a very pretty wife, who had lost her moistness! And, the world was masked, quad jabbed and retarded. So, in lieu of self-immolation, we have done some traveling. Both geographically, and spiritually. What a long, strange trip it has been! I wish you all really well, and for those who made it to the graveyard paragraph, I am truly honored my life is interesting enough you did.
PS Hitler was Right.
Good to see you back and writing again! Cheers!
Great. You are back! 😊👍🤍