disgusting women evil women funny men who should not ever be with women ever MGTOW sex

Man Boobz will haunt your dreams

The Man (Boob) of Your Dreams

So I got this picture from a reader yesterday. And this explanation:

I’ve been lurking your blog for about a month now, and a few weeks ago, after a day of reading a particularly large amount of your posts, I had a strange dream about this guy who sits on a train and describes some STDs he caught in great (and terrifying) detail to whoever is silly enough to listen. His goal is to dissuade other men from making the same mistake he did — having sex with women. Because to “Hamish the Lover” … all women are dirty and evil and should be avoided at all costs.

Sounds kind of familiar, doesn’t it?

The [person] Hamish was talking to in my dream … realized the irony that the sex Hamish had probably [sucked, not] because of the women, but because Hamish is a selfish, inconsiderate, lazy asshole — but he’s so focused on The Evil of Womenz that he will probably never realize the truth for himself.

I thought it was awesome that even my subconscious laughs at these guys.

(And yes, I even had the dream in cartoon style…)

Sometimes you don’t need Freud to interpret your dreams.

Do any of the rest of you have your own MGTOW dream lovers? Or any other signs that the boobz have invaded your subconscious?

34 replies on “Man Boobz will haunt your dreams”

Wait… so Hamish caught STDs because’s he an inconsiderate asshole? that’s dream logic for you.

Yeah, the train of thought there is a little weird, as it goes from it being an STD problem to a ‘bad sex’ problem. But meh, dreams. And it’s not like those two haven’t come up separately before.

I also find it a little insulting to imply that just because a man has had some bad sexual experiences and talks about them, it automatically means the entire fault is his and he’s a horrible person. If a woman talked about bad sex she’s had, would we react the same way? Of course not, it would still be the guys’ fault.

The way that someone describes their bad experiences is usually an indicator as to whether they are the author of their own problems or not.

@Ion that’s not really fair, the dreaming person didn’t say that a) it was automatically obvious or that b) there wasn’t reason to think that regardless of it being a guy. They said that they realized, by the way Hamish was talking, that was the problem. And yeah, it can be pretty obvious. Ever talk to some random complainer and get the feeling you’re not really getting the whole story? That’s the impression I got.

I think what makes Hamish an asshole is that he blames women for his contracting an STD in what was presumably consensual sex. He knew the risks he was taking, and his partner was also taking a risk that he had something she didn’t. And it wasn’t ‘bad sex’ that Hamish was complaining about, but sex that gave him an STD. For all we know, it could have been the most mindblowing, life-changing, syphilis-bearing sex *ever*.

And then he jumps from ‘I got an STD’ to ‘Women are evil bitches!’ He absolutely refused to take responsibility for the fact that he consented to an act wherein a known risk manifested.

STDs are a fact of modern life, and while the risks can be mitigated, they’re never 100% effective unless one chooses celibacy. Getting an STD from a partner doesn’t mean that the entirety of the other gender (many of whom are be STD-free!) are evil, manipulative cads.

Manboobz gives me recurrent nightmares about having the same stupid argument with people who are impervious to logic, evidence, or basic human compassion.

Oh, wait, that happens here when I’m awake too.

I’m still not quite sure why Hamish has taken his shoes off on the train. I’ll have to ask the artist.

I had a dream in which I was trying to explain how great newspaper comics were in the golden age of the early 20th century.

Which they totally were. And not just Krazy Kat! Mutt and Jeff, also brilliant. Barney Google, same thing. Look at all this glorious crosshatching!

I had a dream involving a boob, but it involved a real person. I had this 50-60-year old guy in one of my classes who was just generally annoying and kind of an ass, but whenever we did pair work he would scoot WAY too close, and he once told me he found my tits adequate (wasn’t worded quite that way, but would require a long explanation).

I dreamed that he was in my class again next fall (language class, so SOMEWHAT likely). I was trying to explain to someone why I didn’t like him (the tits thing), whispering with my hand cupped over my mouth, but apparently we all wore microphones on our heads, so when I cupped my hand it made it louder.

I still don’t think dream-version-he heard me.

(Oh, he also invited me to study with him in a way that sounded way too much like asking me on a date, which was even creepier after he said that he had a daughter about my age and a son a few years older. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew. I know the boobz on here claim women just LURVE older men, and now they’re going to chastize me for finding him gross and call me ageist or something.)

I like Hamish’s socks. His toes, however … hmmm. (Or toe?)

The last dream I had that I can remember involved some meanie boiling my pet rabbit and duck* for a Very Important Reason that actually made no sense. And then the neighbor kids came over to play and I said, You wanna play a fun game? And then I started telling them about how my pets had been boiled to death, and crying. Then I woke up from sadness, and watched a documentary about women in Iran.

Now, I’m no good at dream interpretation, but perhaps someone else can tell me what it meant. I’m guessing that the alpha meanie was “spitting on” the beta duck and omega bunny, and I was crying because as a western woman (over 30!) I’m of no use to the society of serious men and their dicks? Or maybe the bunny was my rationalization hamster and the duck was my pussy pass, and boiling them meant that I have come to embrace MRM theory, and then I cried because embracing MRM theory is totally sad.

*I don’t have a pet rabbit or duck. To my endless disappointment.

All I know is that I was looking up Bloom County and I miss that strip.

And the drawing kind of looks like the guy I am dating.

It’s obvious what’s happened here David has found a way to enter people’s dreams and plant subliminal thoughts in their heads. Well I’m on to you Mr Futrelle (or should I say Mr Cobb), you will not incept me!

I recently dreamed that I was the bass player in a female band called The Party Planning Committee. We were really good.


As long as you are both adults, I see no problem with him asking you out. On the other hand, I also see no problem with you feeling grossed out–by the age difference or his behavior– and saying no. It sounds like there were plenty of other reasons to find him creepy.


I think the pic might have been better with the guy having NWOslave on his t-shirt and wearing an Ipod and tapping his fingers to this tune.

A little bit more info from the artist/dreamer:

I don’t really know why he took off his shoes. All I remember is that he sat there rubbing his feet and they were reeeeeeally stinky. He was just an overall odd fellow, and it being a dream, my unconscious mind did not bother questioning it I suppose 😛

As for why it was clear he was bad at sex:

I hadn’t included that information because I figured it wasn’t important enough. Other than just graphically describing his STDs he also talked about what “bitches” all the women were and how they didn’t bow to his every whim. So my brain wasn’t being sexist — it was quite evident from how he was talking that he’s the one that made the sex suck 😛 Just so ya know! 😀

The guy in the picture is kind of cute, in a scruffy Zack Galafinakis (spelling! I know!) kind of way.

Too bad his personality sucks so bad.

The last dream I recall having was a zombie dream. Those are always fun. No, I’m serious; I consider those to be “fun” nightmares because the other nightmares I sometimes have make me wish I could safely remove the dreaming part of my brain. Amazingly, they don’t yet involve MRAs, but something tells me they might now…


If I were in my 30s or 40s (not my mid 20s) I would find it less creepy and gross. I just think there are very few situations where retired guys should be hitting on people mid-20s and younger. I think a good guideline would be, if she’s younger than your oldest child, she’s off limits unless SHE initiates it. And I think same goes for “cougars.” (Which is funny, since “cougars” are considered predatory, but it’s the older men who are more predatory …)

I just spent way too long living in a place where older men feel very, very entitled to women’s bodies. Whether that means unwanted touching, sexual harassment, really creepy porn in plain view in public, and a prevalence of … uh … opportunities to purchase companionship or “-jobs.” (But not PIV because that would be illegal. “-jobs” don’t count.) It’s shaped my opinion, especially after being one of those young women who has older men thinking that they have a right to touch me or harass me at work. Which isn’t to say that a younger man would either–and in that kind of culture they do start feeling entitled like that as well–but it would be rare for a *younger* man to try anything like that. The older they are, the more entitled they become.

If an older man and far younger woman (think 60/25) really enjoy each other, or even have a mutually using relationship (sex/money), then whatever. But in general, if you’re old enough to be retired, leave the hot, young coeds alone unless they come to you.

((Seriously, I’m only talking to you because we’re doing a project together, and that was your decision, not mine. I just needed a partner. Ugh. Blugh. Ergh. Heebiejeebies.))

Now back to talking about manbooby dreams.

I generally don’t dream about the internet, though I do sometimes dream about reading books. Another sign that I am old and should not be hitting on choco.

No dreams, but definitely a new paranoia now that I’m aware of such meanness in a growing hate group.

I’m never having kids so I can hit on hot 20-somethings forever! bwahahahaha! 😀

(kiddings, really!)

I once dreamed I was in an elevator with Peter Scolari, who one or two people might remember as Tom Hanks’ co-star in the not-exactly-Citizen-Kane sitcom “Bosom Buddies.” He was blaming me (in a polite way) because Tom Hanks had gone on to be a megastar and he was still laboring in late night TV obscurity. I was like, dude, it’s not my fault, I had nothing to do with it, honest though I think you coulda been a contender really, you were just as good an actor…

No, there was no particular precipitating event (i.e. having recently seen anything with either one of them or anything sensible like that).

Iono. Dreams. Weird. I think sometimes they’re just like, your brain is having indigestion and random stuff bubbles up in mental farts while you’re sleeping.

Half of my dreams could be classified as nightmares.

But the best one was when I was taking percocet when I had my wisdom teeth removed. I don’t know how it started, but I remember walking into an office, and there was a penguin (a King penguin at that!) standing on the desk typing away at the keyboard with his flippers. He was wearing khakis and a white short-sleeved button-down shirt, complete with tie. He was Middle Management Penguin. It was an office for a delivery company or something like that. Occasionally, he’d reach for the mouse and click a few times while sighing.

If I start getting frustrated by work, I think of him tapping and clicking away.

Absinthe, that was no dream. Middle Management Penguin is all too real.

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