When women ask you about your relationship status, or similarly leading questions, tell them the two words that they love to hear. The power of this reply is undeniable. No woman can resist its mystique. It’s super-charged hamster pellet, laced with PCP.
Good news! There’s another two-word answer pregnant with potential for hamsterized nuance to which women Pavlovianly react. They don’t necessarily love this reply like they love the one above, but they do need it.
This one is deployed when the woman’s drama queen quotient (DQQ, do note the relevance of the “QQ” part) has been exceeded. We’ve all been there (well, those of us who have dated hotter-than-average women have been there); one day everything is going great, the next, she’s got herself spun up into a lather about some inconsequential shit that is really a pretext for deeper relationship or dating or marital or hypergamy-denied issues. The typical beta male endures her outbursts, hoping it will all end soon, hastening it along with supplicating gestures and effusive promises to do better by her, and to his consternation and everlasting confusion gets rewarded with her resentment and sexual withdrawal.
There’s a better way. Alpha males in the audience will know it immediately. Some of them have probably used it in moments of crisis.
First, let her vent. Yes, there is a time to put your fist through a wall like an uncontrollable beastman, and a time to root yourself firmly and silently, like an oak tree, unmoved and unperturbed by her whirligig womanliness. The ratio of these seemingly contradictory alpha male responses should tilt heavily in favor of being the oak tree. Beastman mode loses its effectiveness rather quickly when overused.
After she has spent herself (momentarily, at any rate, for a woman’s DQQ energy reserves are nearly inexhaustible), gaze at her lazily and say,
“You done?”
Hamster status: nuked. Labia status: pulsating.
If you add a cocked eyebrow while saying it, you will have nuked the hamster’s home planet as well.
You may not want to stick around after dropping this bomb. Not in the same room, if you live together. Sticking around will be interpreted as waiting for a reply, and a request for continuance of her drama queenery. The better follow-up is walking away from the scene of psyche destruction, so that the words may slow boil in her brain, delivering to each scorched neuron the message that “Here stands a man who will not put up with my female shit.”
If you do stick around for more screeching, no matter what verbal artillery she redeploys your second reply should be “Good.”
Hamster cage: salted.
Wait some time, and come back to her with love in your heart. Regardless of the share of blame you shoulder for her anger, she will meekly, joyfully, relievedly surrender in apologia to your Ionic strength. Her conversation then might sound something like this:
“I know I’ve been a little crazy lately… sometimes I just wish you’d [X]… but I’ll try to be more [X] too… Im sorry, I don’t mean to be this way… do you still love me? [DOE EYES]“
This post is now done.
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