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Reader J. writes:


This post changed my life, “Relationship Game Week: A Reader’s Journey“.  The biggest problem in my 8+ year marriage was constantly failing shit tests.  Within hours of reading this, my life got waaaay better.

We’ve had the following “discussion” every month for the past four years.

Before [reading this blog]:
Her: How much did you drink last night?
Me: Eh, just a few.  I didn’t drink that much.
Her: Bullshit.  I could smell it on you when you came home.  Even after you brushed your teeth.
Me: Seriously, I only had 2 or 3 drinks.
Her: What if you got pulled over?  There’s no way you would have passed a breath-a-lyzer.
Me: I’m 37 years old.  I know my limits.  I’m sure I would have passed.
Her: What if you killed some one?  What if you died?  How would I explain that to our children. Blah, blah blah.
Us: [Fight]

18 hours after discovering your blog:
Her: How much did you drink last night?
Me: Oh, I got hammered.  [Buddy’s name] had to drive me home.
Her: *giggle* Shut up!
Me: *smirk* Yeah, go get dressed.  You need to drive me to [next town over] to get my car.
Her: *smile* Yeah, right.

I can’t believe this worked?!? [ed: believe it]

I’ve been reading your blog for all of a week, and I’ve seen numerous mentions of shit tests, “agree and amplify” and “beta baiting”.  Is there a “Shit Test 101″ column somewhere?  If not, what is the original source material for this?

I don’t care what the nay-sayers say about “Game”.  This is bigger than you or me getting laid.  If betas adopt these techniques, millions of kids could be spared the agony of their parents’ divorce.  THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!

Seriously, man.  Thanks.


I’ll be honest. When I started this blog my intentions were less than noble. I had set out to amuse myself by performing sociological experiments with the utmost predator sadism on the degenerate mafia of haters, losers, delusional tards, liars, and sexual marketplace rejects who would be drawn to the bracing truths contained within the walls of this venerable Chateau like gimped moths to the flame. Wailing in anguish, they limped, shuffled, and weeble wobbled over, right on cue, and it was good.

Lies perished. But truths were heralded, too. Dropped like a Heysoosian savior into this cruel fragfest thunderdome, I gave my only begotten sex, love and romance knowledge to the world, gift-boxed in a lament configuration and tied with a bow of barbed wire. Who would be strong enough — clear-thinking enough — to clamber above their human foibles and the limitations imposed by their egos to grasp the knowledge that was there for the taking?

I never wanted anything from this project but the self-pleasure of the soulripper. I didn’t care if no one took the message to heart to improve their lives. That was never my purpose. But then a funny thing happened. The emails from grateful readers started rolling in; men, young an old, and women too, writing to tell me what a positive impact this outpost of wicked illumination has had on their lives. I receive emails like J.’s above on an almost daily basis now. This blog has, despite its dark-robed proprietors’ demonic efforts, healed relationships and saved marriages. Something that an army of Pee Aych Dee wielding credentialissimo therapists and counselors, with their PC playbook of half-baked bromides and knee-jerk misandry, struggle to claim. And that is the burn that singes the denialists and foam-flecked haters deepest. That a despised womanizer could so thoroughly humiliate their comfortable worldview, and do them one better.

“How could anyone who writes such horrible things be a force for good in the world?”

A moment of clarity will give you the answer to your question.


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