Better Than Therapy | Live From The Lair


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38 Replies to “Better Than Therapy | Live From The Lair”

  1. Maybe I'm just a fucking idiot. I've watched nearly all your videos… and a lot of the time I think "that sounds just like _" who is now my ex… I should be happy. I should feel free. But I honestly feel the complete opposite. I know it'll take time and I'm thankful for not losing all my shit, had a kid with he, or was married ect… Your videos DO help people Popp and it's a win to the millionth power. Keep on winning and fuck the haters

  2. Thanks man… I had a ltr four kids never married thank god!! I had a surgery unable to work for 4 months during that time i find out she banging one of my so called buddys. Still in the maybe work it phase for my kids, but at the point to just say fuck it. Men realy do get the shaft wish i learned this shit years ago!! Keep up the good work man.

  3. I was paralyzed at 15 was raised by a single mother while my father was doing time for murder. I have an incomplete injury so my peg D still works but I still have to use a wheelchair. I have been a wheelchair worrier for 24 years and have had lots of slot c. I enjoy your show and you have opened my eyes to many ideas. I appreciate you sharing keep it up.

  4. oh youth. you served me well. i am an old fuck of 47 years now. in looking back through my awesome life, i saw that, luckily i never got that beat up by the vagina'd ones. oh, i had a lot of scrapes and bruises and temporary solitudes. but nothing too frightening. i accidently got married for a minute in 1998. it was over in 1999. no kids. always prefered dogs. fuck cats though. i signed my divorce papers. even though she was a mighty beast of a bitch, she didn't want anything. luckily her parents just inherited a couple million bucks. likely the reason i got dumped. they were all of a sudden the ruling class. they didn't want some bum who quit 7 years of academia and a masters degree to become a welder soiling their precious daughter anymore. thank fucking god i said, cause i'm bored to death, and this welding crap is making me feel like shit. i sighed a sigh of relief. helped them pack up the furniture. done with that i dusted myself off and shouted to her from across the street… thanks for all the blow jobs, then quickly, a little louder to her smirking parents who were standing further back in the doorway of their new home, i added, your daughter fucks like a porn star when she's high, especially when she's on shrooms. now if you all will excuse me i gotta pack a bag. i am going to travel for a while, gotta catch a plane to thailand in a few hours. i never married again, traveled the world and am still in asia making shitty music and selling shitty art. but it's my shitty music and my shitty art and i alone decide how shitty it's gonna be. in my late 30's i almost got hitched a couple of times. 40 scared the rebel out of me. thought conforming was what i had to do. there were a couple of close calls. i could never break up with any chick i ever went out with. i didn't have the balls to say it's over. i always melted when the tears rained down and the sound of a woman crying gives me tourettes, therefore, i always took the snot nose to the shoulder and shh, shh shh'd her into silence… ok ok we can try we can try, i won't leave. i don't know how it happened, but i subconsciously, over the years of this woman here, and that woman there, developed some inner sense of get the fuck out of this relationship. when it was time a newly formed muscle of slow stealth manipulation took control of me and my brain and enslaved me into being the biggest cunt i could possibly be to the female that needed running from… this muscle worked so well i never even realized it was exercising until i was receiving some typical form of being dumped. clever we humans can be. cunning. adaptive. survivors. i would then play one of several exit acts. maybe the jealous prick, and ask… who is the mother fucker, i'll kill him. or maybe i would drop the pathetic loser act… why, why, why, why does nobody love me, why god oh why can't i be loved… then, after a, one-last-fuck, and her final apologies… it's not you, it's me she would assure me, or… there is no other guy, i'm so sorry, but i just need to be alone for a while, i need to figure out who i am she would wail as she took off running down the stairs, or into the dark, or up the beach… sorry for the length. this is the first time i ever wrote about this… thank's for the inspiration to let it out. and thank's for your show, you are both entertaining to watch, and doing many a man a great service… you survived many many battles at home and abroad for a reason. always remember that you have a great purpose in life…

  5. Popp, you're my hero. Despite years of third wave feminist brain washing, I managed to red pill myself. Your videos have helped me in many ways. I appreciated the heck out of my late husband, but I wish I'd been more awake in my 20s. I don't think I fully comprehended how lucky I was, but I guess the unfair irony of love is that one is incapable of fully grasping it until it's gone. I was not raised with an entitled princess mentality, and I think it made me a better woman. My only regret in my new relationship is that I pay for the sins of my man's ex-wife. I would cage fight the bitch, but…. illegal. Thanks for what you do. Much respect.