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A reader celebrates the holiday of love:

I won’t bore you with my long story. Ex of 8 years cheated, dumped me, I learned about game and Alpha Males, started being awesome. She came running back, I backslide by banging her for a few months while seeing other women too. Learned she banged two of my friends. Was an idiot and let her end things.

I’m doing ok now, teaching myself to destroy my enemies and relentlessly chase my dreams. Can’t help but be irritated at this callous bitch and the shitty friends who chose her used up vaj over friendship. I’m moving on, [ed: are you sure?] but there is one thing I really wanna do…bang her sister.

Sister is younger than her by 5 years, looked up to me in her teens, isn’t my biggest fan after the breakup, but when in the same room we’re friendly. What angle can I use to try and seal the deal and destroy my ex for good.

Don’t you love a heartwarming Valentine’s Day story?

First of all, you’re not over your ex if you want to “destroy her for good”. That said, I know the feeling of exacted vengeance, and it feels good. Banging her sister would certainly do the trick, although there are easier ways to rain pain upon your ex-flame. (Ya know, just letting her see you in the company of a hotter girl would work, too, and without inviting all that messy familial shit.)

Women are naturally competitive, though they may sweetly claim otherwise, so I’ve no doubt your ex’s sister has at times entertained the thought of stealing you for herself. Now whether she still entertains that thought is open to question. I get the vibe from your email that you didn’t comport yourself in an attractive, aloofly alpha manner during your drawn-out breakup.

How about this angle: Try innuendo. Plant the seed of oblique romance and tell her a variation on these words: “Your sister is a great person, despite flaws we all share. It didn’t work out, but that’s for the best. When I was with her, there was often… someone else on my mind.”

Linger, linger, aaaaaand… walk off. Return another day to escalate the flirtation. Poison the sisterly well by absently remarking on this or that negative comment your ex made about her sister, true or not. Wonder aloud if your ex ever made moves on her sister’s boyfriends, because, ahhh, forget it… ok, ok, there was that one time she mentioned something weird about dancing with Kevin… yeah, yeah, you figured it was her Kevin your ex was talking about.

You get the idea, champ. Whatever you do, DO NOT tip your hand in the slightest that your pursuit is driven by butthurtness. You must remain as cool and calculating as you were, presumably, when you first seduced your ex.


Reader #2 asks:

From a transcipt on Obama’s State of the Union speech last night:

“And we’ll work to strengthen families by removing the financial deterrents to marriage for low-income couples and do more to encourage fatherhood, because what makes you a man isn’t the ability to conceive a child, it’s having the courage to raise one. And we want to encourage that. We want to help that.”

Your thoughts?

Nice platitudes. Prepare for wallet raping. Because wallet raping is all this present day crop of pols knows how to do.


Reder #3 wonders about girls and horses (horse cock sold separately):

I continue to meet and (sometimes) date females who are into riding horses. Sometimes they own the horses… sometimes they lease them, sometimes they just ‘rent them’. However, as I continue to meet more of the horse girls, the more convinced I am that something just isn’t right.

Unfortunately, I live in an affluent area in the county where sometimes the cost of the horse exceeds the cost of the house people live in, and they cherish the horse more than anything else.

Some help for us guys who continue to run into them? Are there any stable ( ha ha) horse chicks out there? Should I continue to date them and see where it goes? Have you had any experience yourself?

A < snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever >metric fuckton< / snarky fat feminist who thinks she’s clever > has been written about the love pretty girls have for horsemeat, ahem, cantoring stallions. Theories abound, and you can search for them at your nearest internet kiosk. My personal favorite theory is that the horse is a surrogate for the exciting badboy: dangerously explosive power tamed precariously under her tender tutelage. The horse evokes her nurturance instinct, her desire to monopolize and channel male (or animal) power, and her thrill for wild, unpredictable beasts with soulful brown eyes.

Remember, folks, we gave this gender the vote!

I’ve been around girls who either had family-owned horses or went horse riding semi-regularly. Very loosely, they tend to favor hard-charging, elitist men, kind of like their horses. Some of the older horse-loving women are closet lesbians, but the younger ones are hetero and usually feminine. Psychologically, they are different than cat lovers with respect to their propensity for drama; the cat ladies have it in spades. Other than that, further stereotyping eludes. Too many crazy SWPLs have clouded my ability to discern extra special craziness in female sub genera.


Reader #4 has lost his taste for his womenfolk:

So, I’ve dated lots of girls in life, and I’ve dumped most of them.  Mostly, they’ve been lunatics, liars, and leeches.

In time, I started dating other ethnicities.  Eventually, I married an asian.  I’m caucasian.

I see lots of 7s and 8s these days, and they’re mostly caucasian.  But for some reason–for some strange reason–every time I see a caucasian chick, I’m filled with disgust and I’m repulsed on some levels.  Why?  I’m not a racist.  I’m not a liberal white self-hating kind of a guy.  It’s just that I’m “formed” in this way.  Something compells my subconscious to say “she’s worthy, she’s cool” if she’s from some other exotic locale.  But my own white skin?  I just don’t trust it.


What’s happened to me?

The troll is strong in this email. But, it’s soon to be Valentine’s Day, and I’m feeling gullible.

Some minority of people in any race probably have a limbic disposition for other-race mates. I dunno the number. Say, 5%. These peeps, of whom you may be one, are particularly aroused by exotic women, and in particular naturally feminine exotic women, such as the asian. It could be nothing more than that.

Or, you may have had a damagingly bad experience with a white woman and the event left you with a repulsing psychological imprint which redounds to all white women.

Whichever it is, I’m not sure why I included your email in this mailbag, except perhaps to throw stinky chum into the commenter water. And this is why National Review won’t annex my talents.


Reader #5 would like to know how to deflect attention from a girl he doesn’t care for:

Been running game for a couple of months. Seeing some good results but also interest from the wrong areas. One girl, a high 7, is obsessive. Just for fun, what’s the most beta set of moves I could pull to make her stop feeling attraction?

Get caught fucking a dude in a furry suit.

Well, you asked.

For real, just stop talking to her. If she’s not the psycho sort, she’ll eventually take the hint and cry it out in her dim bedroom alone.

But, if you don’t have the patience to wait it out, and kind of like having her around for pivot reasons, I suggest the following betatization program:

1. Pretend every second of your day you are hiding from alien probes. Sit hunched, look nervously around the room, cross your arms and legs, hold your drink up to your nose, shudder a lot, shuffle, hang your head, spaz out at hearing loud noises, cry for no reason, look at your shoes when you speak, announce that flourescent lighting scares you.

2. Confess that you love her. Make sure to sound as nervous as possible. Apply fake sweat beads to your forehead. Tell her you wrote her a poem, and would like to read it aloud. When she screws up her face, cry. Whine that you just knew she wouldn’t like it.

3. Confide to her that you’ve been having erectile dysfunction problems. Say that you don’t mind telling her because you feel so close to her.

4. Constantly accuse her of seeing other men. “Were you with somebody yesterday?” “Who’s that guy? You know him?” “Did you sleep with him?” “Why do you have so many guy friends?” “Don’t you think it’s weird that you talk to other men besides me?”

5. Ask her if she loves you. Ask her twenty more times until she gives an answer that is acceptably foul to you.

6. Espouse feminism.

There are plenty more ball-shriveling tactics, but these should do the trick. If they don’t, you are probably lying that she is a “high 7″. Fat, desperate loser would be my guess, because no woman with a modicum of sexual value would be able to withstand that beta onslaught for long without retching.


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