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The Redirection Rejection

Have you ever had to deal with an annoying girl who answers a question with a question, like she’s trying to put her tier 14 law school degree to use? A reader laments:

Thanks so much for your blog. I’ve read it for at least 5 years, and learned a lot. Lost my virginity at 18, so not a natural, but have banged 25 chicks in the last five months in South America by learning from your blog and others’, going to a spot suited for me, and generally improving myself.

At this point, I mainly worry about specific issues that crop up over and over. One is that I’ll text a girl an invitation, and she’ll ask a follow up question about it instead of answering. I call it the redirect rejection. Examples from tonight:

A girl I hooked up with 8 years ago and have seen twice since. Really.

Me: Better for me. I eat brisket like a glutton. I watch the game. They get you drunk. You come after.
Her: I can’t drink alcohol. (First redirection)
Me: Pregnant? (Plan to get back to the invitation, but first thought I’d tease)
Her: hahhahaha
Her: hahahaha
Her: Can I drink alcohol before traveling?
Me: No. No you can’t. You have to arrive skinny for more contrast with Americans.
Her: Hahahaha
Me: You drinking was the least important step. Most important is that I have my brisket and you come after. I will prepare you for your trip.
Her: What is brisket (second redirection)

Not expecting to see her tomorrow

——–

A girl whose number I got at a party and who I have invited out a few times with no success. I had given up. Tonight she texts me.

Her: Hey! You up to anything tonight?
Me: Working up the courage to ask me out? 😉 (don’t chomp the beta bait, frame her as chasing, I toy with dropping the emoticon but I don’t want to discourage her)
Her: Hahahahah. Call it whatever you want.
Me: (stop fucking around and make the plans) Come by at 11. I have the best drink in town chilling in my fridge. Maybe you can convince me to go to [well-known club]
Her: What exactly is the best drink in town? (redirection)
Me: [Image of the bottle with the caption Trust Me]
Her: Haha. Alright. I’m sold.

expecting her in two hours

——-

A girl whose number I got out once. Never met up since. Been texting some. She went on vacation.

Me: [funny picture of me on a glaciar, I happen to be wearing tight jeans] are you back?
Her: I’m coming back.
Her: And that photo?
Me: A little present for you. Look how tight my jeans are.
Her: Hahahahahah
Me: I would send you a photo in my bathing suit but I don’t want to cause an accident
Her: hahaha good idea
Me: Let’s get together this week. There is a bar cafe I want to try.
Her: What bar? (redirection)
Me: The important thing is the company.

No response.

In only 1/3 did I turn around the redirection rejection, and that was when the girl had basically begged me to ask her out. Is the redirection rejection game over? I know that it means my game up to that point has been weak, but can I recover?

When a girl is in a positive mood and open to you, and she asks you which bar you plan to take her, it’s OK to just tell her, so I wouldn’t consider that last exchange a great example of the redirection rejection. You have to have a feel for when it’s in the interests of both of you to drop the banter and speak plainly. However, the first text snippet is a classic redirect. The reader made multiple meet-up offers, and she responded coyly to each suggestion with a lame question.

The redirection rejection isn’t game over, but it is game on life-support. She’s bored, maybe a little curious where this is going, but so far you haven’t excited her out of her resting female stupor. But she keeps the romantic possibility, however remote, open. Mostly to amuse herself.

If you are getting a lot of these redirection rejections, that means you’ve become predictable. Stale. She can see your friendly teases coming a mile away. She throws questions back at you because that’s her way of trying to extract a little excitement nugget from the conversation. She’s trying to amp the teasing to a level of edginess that makes her vagina feel alive. This is good news in one way: She’s saying you have a chance.

You need to surprise her. Don’t grace her questions with a relevant reply, like some earnest beta looking to solve all her problems. Instead, dodge and dislodge her hamster from its comfy resting state.

Her: Can I drink alcohol before traveling?
Me: Maybe you should stick with diet coke.
Her: Hahahaha
Me: You drinking was the least important step. Most important is that I have my brisket and you come after. I will prepare you for your trip.
Her: What is brisket (second redirection)
Me:

Be silly, be nasty even. The goal is a seismic shift of her emotional state from boredom to shock, dismay, and intrigue. If, after amping your alpha for a few iterations in this manner she still doesn’t make a firm commitment to seeing you, abruptly stop communication. If you can leave her with her last text dangling for a response, that’s good. She’ll be wondering why you didn’t reply, and it might upset her just enough to plant thoughts of you in her head for a week, after which she may be more amenable to your charms.

[crypto-donation-box]

Types Of Game

This post is 1/8th tongue-in-cheek, so don’t get yourselves too worked up into an inference lather. Disclaimer aside, there is a solid, observable foundation for the basic premise that there exists a need for categorical types of game streamlined for efficiency in different contexts and with different women.

Don’t misconstrue this to mean that there are no universal game principles. The point is that along with the universally applicable seduction techniques, there are refinements of execution that a man could undertake to improve his return-on-courtship (ROC). On that rascally note, here’s reader Putin with a cursory list of what he considers different types of game:

Types Of Game:

1. Quick Picker Upper Game
2. Text Game
3. Recover Relationship Game
4. Marriage Game.
5. Crazy Women Game? Is there such a thing or are they all crazy?
6. Dating/relationship game

Any others……

Why are there even “types” of game? The need for differing styles of game rests on three realities: One, the races and cultures of women are different from each other just as women as a sex are different from men. Two, women’s desire changes with age (and by monthly cycle). Three, environmental contingencies can subtly realign women’s mate choice priorities.

These realities suggest that game tailored to a woman’s specific needs which are informed by her racial, life stage, or contextual realities will be superior to a “one size fits all” game.

To recap: Game will vary according to three major input variables:

-Women’s race/culture. (Race and culture are nearly synonymous, notwithstanding leftoid beliefs to the contrary.)
-Women’s age and monthly cycle. (Evidence, both laboratory and real world, show that women crave alpha cock more when they are ovulating.)
-Women’s mating context. (Context includes relationship status, sex ratio, pickup venue, etc.)

I can already smell some of you sweating the small stuff. Pat yourselves dry, un-knot your laden brows, and put down your pickup manuals for a second. There’s a simple rule that governs the effective range of beneficial modifications to game:

Maxim #20: All types of game are basically variations in the balance of beta male and alpha male traits.

To visualize this maxim, imagine a line representing the spectrum of male psychosexual characteristics, running from extreme beta on one end to extreme alpha on the other.

ßeta<—————————————————————————>Alpha

Now, if one had to (or could) choose between the two poles, and nothing in the middle, it is BY FAR better to choose extreme alpha over extreme beta. The latter will get you laid more often, and for most men getting laid more rather than less is at least one of the primary ingredients in the recipe for life happiness.

But women are creatures with a dual personality — they crave both the provider beta and the piledriver alpha. Alpha fux, beta bux, as a wise man once said. A man will maximize his ROC if he knows how and when to balance the expression of his plush beta side with his dominant alpha side.

How much beta or alpha maleness to display in the presence of a woman in whom you want to incite spasmodic gushers of… love… depends in part on the confluence of those three input variables I mentioned above. What is her race/culture? What is her age? Is she a girl you just met on the sidewalk, or is she a girl you’ve been dating for six months?

Taking all that into account, plus a girl’s particular personality profile, will guide you to express the best mix of beta and alpha traits. Or, to put it in PUA parlance, you will find that important balance between comfort game and attraction game.

Returning to Putin’s “types of game”, it’s easy now to evaluate each type based on the metric of beta-alpha balancing. I have placed hatch marks along the beta-alpha spectrum to show you how much of each you should emphasize relative to the other.

1. Quick Picker Upper Game

ß<———————————-|–>A

You’re shooting for a quick lay. This means you’ll do best targeting horny girls with few scruples and low impulse control. 90% alpha.

2. Text Game

ß<—————————–|——->A

Text game is an impersonal medium that favors alpha over beta. Comfort stage game doesn’t translate very well to ASCII. (She’ll miss that strong eye gaze.)

3. Recover Relationship Game

ß<———————–|————->A

Insufficient data. A relationship could falter because the man became too domesticated or too emotionally disconnected. (NB: It can also falter when the woman becomes too chunky.) However, most relationships fail because the man lost touch with his inner alpha asshole. The hatch mark slightly favors the alpha side.

4. Marriage Game

ß<—————————|———>A

Marriage game is a specific instance of relationship game. Time and familiarity erode a man’s alphaness, so marriage game typically requires more infusions of alpha, although there are exceptions (like when a woman manages to rope a charming cad into marriage, and later discovers it’s hard to change a tiger’s stripes).

5. Crazy Women Game? Is there such a thing or are they all crazy?

ß<———-|—————|———->A

Thanks to their dual mate choice algorithm issues, all women are a little crazy, but only a tiny minority are bunny boiling crazy. I put two hatch marks here because the genuinely crazy chick is best played like a fiddle, alternating potent doses of beta and alpha until she feels like she’s on a seesaw. With crazy chicks, a good offense is the best defense. PS: Cut and run as soon as you’ve drained your balls (this could be a full year for those of us with robust testicular bounty).

6. Dating/relationship game

ß<——–|—————————->A

Assuming this type of game refers to that delicate moment in time between the passionate first few weeks together and the serene routine that distinguishes relationships that have reached the six month milestone, I’d say that more beta is the key here. You’ve already established your alpha fides, and now she’s wondering if you’re boyfriend material or just another pump and dumper about to break her heart. This is a good time, if you’re so inclined, to do those little beta things for her that relax her amygdala and dilate her labia minora.

In a future post, I will explore in greater detail the specifics of each type of game as they relate to common scenarios most men will experience at some point in their lives. This post was meant as a general outline to get your head in the right mental space.

[crypto-donation-box]

The Special Occasion Texter

Many men will recognize the Special Occasion Texter. (To be fair, many women will recognize this stalker subspecies as well. I bet men are more frequent SOT violators than are women.) The SOT is the tease-slash-desperado who texts you out of the blue to commemorate a holiday or some other day that is ostensibly important to you.

Commenter ‘meet me’ has a question about the SOT.

What do you guys make of a girl who texts you randomly on holidays or birthday, but always delays for a strict meet? I don’t try again after suggesting, just looking for attention/orbiters?

The female SOT is a cocktease in digital form, especially if she dodges any offers for a meet-up. But she’s no ordinary attention whore tease. There are three common reasons a female SOT would behave this way.

1. Beta Orbiter Maintenance

She texts birthday messages to all the beta male orbiters she has accumulated over the years, and she does this as part of a maintenance program to keep her orbiters from spinning too far out of her orbit (or, conversely, too close to her planet). What good is a beta orbiter who wises up to the futility of pursuing her for sex that will never come, and manages to achieve escape velocity from her pull? She needs those suck-ups sucking up to her emotional needs, and sometimes that requires sending a tiny sliver of romantic hope — say, a birthday text — to her cuckubines.

2. Relationship Anxiety

A woman who is in a shaky relationship and fears its end is nigh, but hasn’t yet emotionally abandoned her current lover, will reopen backchannels to once-interested men. But she’ll do this with sneaky nonchalance, as is the wont of her sex. A birthday greeting is the perfect set-up to maintain plausible deniability. “but it was his biiiirthday! i was just being frieeeeeeendly!”

Similarly, a single woman who has started worrying about ever getting a man to commit to her, but hasn’t yet found that Charming Jerkboy of her dreams, will, with wavering reluctance, contact old flames or new suitors to pump her ego and to calm her anxiety. The thought of numerous men “waiting in the wings” is very comforting to single women on their first approach to the Wall.

3. Garden-Variety Mindfucking

She’s a wicked mindfucker who gets off stringing men betas along.

***

Whatever the reason, the female SOT is best handled by, most crucially, refusing to chomp on her bland beta boob bait. Don’t respond right away to her SOT text. Don’t thank her for her thoughtfulness. Don’t move immediately to pin her down for a real date. Instead, wait a day, then reply “did u wish me happy labor day? weirdo.” Or, “you’re so cute when you stalk me”. The female SOT needs to know that you aren’t the kind of desperate guy to ask “how shiny?” when she tells you to polish her pedestal. She needs to be reminded in so many words that SHE’S the one who texted YOU, not the other way around, and this reminder of her active solicitation will reinforce the implication in her mind that you are the higher value company to keep.

PS If you want to use a SOT to open the lines of communication with a prospect, one irresistibly jerkish maneuver is to text the girl “happy bday” two weeks after her actual birthday. When she responds (and she will) that you’re two weeks late, grace her with a laconic “woops”. This is a small but powerful tactic to close the organic chaser (man)-chased (woman) gap, and thus improve your odds-to-lay.

PPS The rare SOT who is really interested in getting banged out won’t be circumspect with her texts. If you suspect your SOT girl is DTF (based on, say, past history), then it won’t take much more than a ‘thx’ to coax her to leap at the chance to continue the banter and move negotiations to the bedding table.

[crypto-donation-box]

Holding up a finger to the cultural winds carrying tingles aloft, a (probably) female reader writes,

Sia is a singer/song writer , ex–party girl with alcohol problems.

She wrote an interesting song, [Fair Game], which outline everything you have described at The Château.

I put in bold the interesting parts.

You terrify me
Cause you’re a man- you’re not a boy
You’ve got some power
And I can’t treat you like a toy
The road less…Traveled by a little girl
You disregard the mess
While I try to control the world
Don’t leave me
Stay here and frighten me
Don’t leave me
Come now enlighten me
Give me all you got
Give me your wallet and your watch
Give me your first born
Give me the rainbow and the-
So go on and challenge me
Take the reigns and the seat
Watch me squirm baby
But you are just what I need
And I’ve never played a fair game
I’ve always had the upper hand
But what good is intellect and nerve if
I can’t respect any man
Yeah I want to play a fair game
Yeah I want to play a fair game

You terrify me
We’ve still not kissed
And yet I’ve cried
You got too close in
I pushed and pushed
Opened your bites
So I could run run
And then I did betray the dust
You saw those teeth marks
They weren’t all yours
You had been trusted to a history
That had not worked for me
Into a history from which I could not face
So go on and shake me
Shake until I give it up
When I am in doubt baby
I know that we could make some love

So go on challenge me
Take the reigns and the seat
Watch me squirm baby
But you’re just what I need
And I’ve never played a fair game
I’ve always had the upper hand
But what good is intellect and nerve if
I can’t respect any man
Yeah I want to play a fair game
Yeah I want to play a fair game
And I never played a fair game
I’ve always had the upper hand
But what good is intellect and nerve if
I can’t respect any man
Yeah I want to play a fair game
Yeah I want to play a fair game

I’ve always had the upper hand
But what good is intellect and nerve if
I can’t respect any man
I want to play a fair game
Oh, I want to play a fair game
I’ve always had the upper hand
What good is intellect and nerve if
I can’t respect any man
I want to play a fair game

Sia is a 39-year-old Australian singer who’s experiencing something of a career resurgence right now. Most of you would recognize her current hit song “Chandelier”. It’s catchy, visually arresting, and vaguely pedophilic.

Her gimmick of late has been wearing a veil covering her face from view during performances. She’s been quoted in interviews as saying the veil is a feminist protest against the objectification of blah blah trail of hamster pellets. A less charitable observer might say that 39yo Sia has suffered her first contact with the Wall and the veil is radical wrinkle-remover and career-extender.

But enough of that. Clearly, Sia loves her incorrigible badboys. Sia later, betaboys!

From the beginning, women have been singing the praises of badboys. What’s more interesting, from a sociological perspective, is any noteworthy change in frequency of badboy odes, and in how those female singers opt to stylize their lyrical meanderings. Are the musical paeans to the allure of badboys prideful boasts, seeming almost like taunts aimed at the crushed hearts of lame-o betas? Or are female singers disguising their love for badboys under layers of obfuscating wordplay?

Tuning my ear snare to the pop starlet zeitgeist, I do think barely-concealed confessions of cravings for badboys have been on the increase recently. The weird thing is that this badboy exaltation is occurring simultaneously with a muddled feminist empowerment pop culture fad (think Katy Perry singing “you’re gonna hear me roar”). It’s as if women singers can’t make up their minds whether they want to be mistresses of the universe or just bound and gagged mistresses of a ZeroFucksGiven jerkboy.

If there is a social trend toward women freely expressing their deepest desires for hounds and heartbreakers, this reinvigorated female lust on public display may owe itself to the context within which pop singers, and their fans, circulate. As CH explained, a society that is bottom heavy with mewling, supplicating beta males would push women into the aloof and indifferent arms of alpha jerks. And when the bottled-up pussy pressure becomes too much to bear, even Wall-impact cougars like Sia can’t help but throw their natural romantic constituency — older, defeated, weak beta males ready to settle down with any old slutty cow — under the bus.

Women’s love for challenging jerks never dies, it just wistfully succumbs to a slow awareness of SMV self-depreciation.

[crypto-donation-box]

How is a wounded woman like a wounded animal? PA explains as he hoists the COTW trophy:

A nasty form of red pill involves thoughts of how to act when your woman has been through great trauma, rape or otherwise. A wounded human being is in a shitload of pain, in such cases psychic pain.

They say that you shouldn’t try to comfort a beloved dog that was injured by a car because its pain can cause it to bite you. External-source duress, usually financial, can turn a wife into a bitch.

There was an article a few years after the 9.11 attacks, about a middle aged woman, civilian employee at the Pentagon, who was badly disfigured in the resulting fires and how she copes with life. Her husband (photos from happier days were shown, they were both radiant) had left her after the disfigurement.

I was quick to fault the man for abandoning her. But now I wonder, did he try to ‘be there’ and she pushed him away? I don’t know. In the story she said she is not angry with him.

A man wants to be needed and many of us want to help the few people in our inner circle when they need us. When we were little and got hurt, our moms poured concerned affection on us, and in those recesses of our psyches lies a template for healing another’s pain.

But like the struck dog, does the traumatized woman lash out at those closest to her? Those with the hard task of ‘being there’ have to think about what she really needs. Soft care may not be it.

Yes, this is a deeply dark red pill to swallow. I’ve seen it myself, and I’ve experienced it: The lashing out of the hurt woman against those trying to comfort her. The proper response to the hurt woman is a nod of sympathy and a studied avoidance of getting entangled in her drama other than giving her time to cry it out, (and giving yourself a little distance from her bared claws).

Why is it not uncommon for traumatized women to push away their supportive lovers? It’s a mystery, but my theory is that it has to do with the natural revulsion men and women feel for sex role inversions. The caretaker and the nurturer is the woman; when a man eagerly tries to assume this role, it’s disturbing to women on a primal level. It’s similar to the aggressive career woman barging into a meeting ready to close a big deal. Men may admire her gumption in the abstract, but as a character trait it’s very off-putting to behold in a woman.

Another, related, possibility is the idea that a supportive man, in his readiness to “be there” for a hurt woman, inadvertently “betatizes” himself. He may be perceived less as a shoulder to lean on than as a cloying handmanlet who in his zeal to be helpful winds up reminding the woman of the source of her pain.

Traumatized men do this too, but it seems more common with women. Or perhaps, when it concerns women, it’s more shocking to men who witness it, given the pedestal-contoured presumptions that men hold of women’s receptivity to assistance in times of need.

Maybe there’s a reason why in large parts of the world women who are rape victims are considered sexual persona non grata. Could it be that, underneath the religious or moral justifications, men shun traumatized women because they know, instinctively, that those women will never be “right” as relationship material?

[crypto-donation-box]

The Thirsty Slut

Conventional wisdom has it that raw sluts aren’t the prettiest girls in school. The conventional wisdom is mostly right about sluts. CH has noted (archive hunt alert) that the sluttiest sluts tend to fall within the mediocre to cute range of female looks. Most sluts are 5s, 6s, and 7s. Proportionate to their demographic ratio, there are not as many slutty 8s, 9s or 10s. Likewise, but for a different reason, neither are there many slutty sub-5s.

(I’m using the term slut in its common parlance: A promiscuous girl. This doesn’t necessarily mean she has a lot of sex partners; it could mean she’s impulsive and will sleep with a man on a whim, or jump from boyfriend to boyfriend on flimsy pretexts.)

The disproportionate representation of moderately attractive girls among sluts is a function of being just cute enough to get banged out by alpha males* but not hot enough to get commitment from them. These cute-ish girls are in the gray zone between the uglies who can’t slut it up because desirable men don’t want to fuck them, and the hotties who won’t slut it up because men are willing to give them want they want.**

*Reminder: Sluts haven’t lost their powers of female hypergamous discrimination. They may be quicker to fall into bed, but they’re still not giving beta males the time of night.

**There is a class (a minority) of hot babes — eternal ingenues — who cash in on their looks by acquiring the seed and resources of multiple lovers. Their numbers are few, but their danger to unwary men is considerable.

Some sluts are discreet about their nighttime activities, although they seem to be decreasing of late to make way for what I call the Thirsty Slut, a Declining Empire breed of bed hopper who takes strange pleasure from proclaiming her sluttitude to the world.

As commenter shartiste (nice, bro) writes,

Surely the dark Lord has seen the “I fucked Edelman” photo by now. Further photos revealed her to be a gentleman’s 7. I’d bet it follows some Heartistian law that its always the less hot girls who trumpet to high heavens when they get an alpha dick inside them while the hot ones are more discreet?

Edelman is a Patriots football player. A hot babe who was accustomed to the company of high value men wouldn’t feel a compulsion to publicly announce her role as a passive sexual conquest of a footballer. She has nothing to prove, because her beauty is all the social proof she needs.

But the marginal gentleman’s 7 feels like she has a LOT to prove. Sexy alpha males aren’t a part of her daily life like they are for hotter women. When one of those alphas gravitates into her orbit (or, more typically, she lurches into his orbit) her hindbrain neurons fire a 21 hamster salute and her vagina pops off like a bottle of champagne sitting in the sun all day.

Who knows for certain what’s going through the thirsty slut’s head? Nevertheless, we have clues based on environmental inputs.

– Our attention whore enabling society emboldens her. The “slut” sting still penetrates, but now that the internet is filled with girls hoisting their pummeled pussies aloft like trophies after a big win, the individual slut doesn’t feel so alone and ostracized. Sluttery loves company.

– She thinks (mistakenly) that demonstrating the speediness of her labial parting for sports stars will bring all the other boys to her yard. (It won’t. Preselection doesn’t work for women. It only grosses out relationship-ready men subject to her pubic displays of coition.)

– Maybe she wants to lord it over her equally mediocre female friends in one of those esoteric femme status rituals that make no sense to men. If so, the temporary ego-stroked reward she earns from envious BFFs will be more than paid for by the permanent stain on her SMV record.

– Or it could be as banal a reason as inciting a beloved ex-boyfriend to jealousy. (Note to ladies: This never works on men with options.)

Like her male equivalent — the rejected try-hard beta who loudly insists he “never wanted the bitch” — the thirsty slut is a transparent cartoon of a woman, impressing no one but the mirror and her delusions of social acceptance.

No class, battered ass, take a pass.

As shartiste (two-fer) commented at Goodbye America, the thirsty slut is

…like a dude posting “just bought dinner for Emma Stone” and posting an $800 receipt.

Slut girl = beta guy

Doubleplusheh.

As any man who wasn’t a feeb male feminist or a stepnfetchit white knight would say to the oddly prideful thirsty slut, “Well, OK, that’s great. Now tell us again… what did you get out of it?”

“Edelman!”

Really?

“Sure! He’ll text me any minute.”

Not holding breath.

Why do I call the loud, proud, and indiscreet cock hound a “thirsty” slut? She is thirsty for SOCIAL STATUS. She is thirsty for VALIDATION of her worth as a woman to love. Most conspicuously, she is thirsty for LOVE itself.

This is all female nature 101, but I bring it up because the bigger picture interests me. It seems that in the past few years the frequency of thirsty sluts demeaning themselves in public for a dong hit of attention, and the bravado with which these sluts crow about the achievement of spreading their legs, have increased a hundredFOLD. Not coincidentally, the term of art “slut” has rocketed into the cultural consciousness of late.

Are there simply more sluts now as a percentage of the female population? The available evidence is inconclusive. The population share of sluts appears to be in a holding pattern.

So, again, why the sudden surge in thirsty sluts? I have a theory: It’s attention whore enabling technology plus the EFFECTIVE sex ratio influencing the dating lives of 15-30 year old women that’s provoking mass public sluttery.

Women are natural LOOKATME exhibitionists. It’s in their nature as the sex with the most to gain from displaying their bodies and faces for male judgment. So it’s no wonder high bandwidth social media provides an irresistible platform upon which women may strut and slut.

Now, combine this incredible environmental shock with another: The retreat from the sexual market by millions of men into video gaming and hardcore internet porn. This is what I mean by an effective sex ratio skew. On the one hand, you have obesities effectively shrinking the pool of attractive women available to men, and on the other you have the de facto disappearance of video gaming and wi-fi fapping men from the dating market.

These kinds of mass convulsions in the human courtship mechanism can cause untold downstream consequences that most people are either incapable of grasping or unwilling to contemplate. The inglorious rise of the Thirsty Slut can best be understood as a visceral ragepout by marginally attractive women to a painful contraction in the availability of the greater beta and alpha males with whom women most desire to form long-term relationships.

[crypto-donation-box]

More Alpha, Better Sex

Tucked in the CH archives is a seminal (heh) post on the subject of male sexual pleasure and how it relates to women’s hotness. It was titled “Hotter Women, Better Sex” and it scandalized neophyte ears, and provoked knowing nods from romantically experienced players.

I suspect the people who think that men chase hot girls the most feverishly so as to lord it over other men have an agenda. They want to believe that human nature is not immutable; that with the right amount of peer pressure and fist-shaking at the media juggernaut men’s desires can be altered — tamed — to accommodate their conceit. And pride is malleable where thermonuclear blasts of lust are not.

If, on the other hand, men pursue the best-looking women at the behest of hidden compulsions buried deep in the reptilian cores of their brains, then there is nothing can be done to change this fact of manhood and what it means for less attractive girls.

How your body responds to a woman during sex tells the tale. The hotter I find the girl, the better the sex is, all else being equal.

What followed was a jizzbomb chart positively correlating a woman’s attractiveness with the liquid volume and ejection force of a man’s ejaculation.

Not satisfied with field observations, undersexed nerds demanded SCIENCE. It was supplied:

Slimmer Women’s Waist is Associated with Better Erectile Function in Men Independent of Age.

Previous research has indicated that men generally rate slimmer women as more sexually attractive, consistent with the increased morbidity risks associated with even mild abdominal adiposity. To assess the association of women’s waist size with a more tangible measure of perceived sexual attractiveness (as well as reward value for both sexes), we examined the association of women’s age and waist circumference with an index of men’s erectile function (IIEF-5 scores), frequency of penile-vaginal intercourse (PVI), and sexual satisfaction in a representative sample of Czechs (699 men and 715 women) aged 35-65 years. Multivariate analyses indicated that better erectile function scores were independently associated with younger age of self and partner and women’s slimmer waist. PVI frequency was independently associated with women’s younger age and women’s slimmer waist. Sexual satisfaction was independently associated with men’s younger age and slimmer waist for both sexes. Better erectile function, greater PVI frequency, and greater sexual satisfaction were associated with women’s slimmer waist, independently of both sexes’ ages. Possible reasons for the waist effects were discussed, including women’s abdominal body fat decreasing their own desire through neurohormonal mechanisms and decreasing their partner’s desire through evolutionarily-related decreased sexual attractiveness.

The vigor of the splitter is the smack of the fact. An hourglass-shaped, slender young woman is nature’s viagra, yohimbe, and horny goat weed compound, delivered with a hit of Ecstasy.

Interestingly, there’s a female version of the CH “hotter women = better sex” formula. Reader RosieOnMaChest stumbles on it:

Asshole game!

Women really do behave differently in bed with alphas and betas.

Since adopting a more alpha persona, around 5 years ago. Apart from upping the standard of women I let into my life, I’ve found one other very unexpected bonus…. Sex is a whole lot better and a whole lot wilder.

Once a woman assesses you as alpha, there seems to be almost nothing she won’t do to please you in bed. Two of the current plates have started sticking their tongues into my asshole . Kind of shocked me at first but I guess it’s just a sign of the times.

Sign of the hinds.

This is what I call the “More Alpha = Better Sex” formula, and a chart should help clarify exactly what it measures.

First, an explanation of the variables.

“Moan strength” is the loudness of the woman’s sex moans. Obvi.

“Shakes strength” is how much control over her body the woman loses during lovemaking.

“Pliability” is the woman’s willingness to indulge the man’s sexual fantasies, no matter how freakish.

Presenting… the handy dandy alpha maleness-to-female pleasure chart:

status of man      moan strength           shakes strength        pliability
omega dreg         sounds of silence       zen stoicism             she calls the shots
omega                grunt of annoyance    she can multitask     carbonite rigidity
greater omega    disguised wince         stilted pelvic grind    100 “no”s, 1 “yes”
lesser beta          1db college try          did a muscle tense?   it’s your birthday!
pubertal beta     10dbs (cat meow)      0.1 second toe curl   it’s our anniversary!
beta                   20dbs (puppy yap)     brief shiver               pre-coital BJ
striver beta        30dbs (dog bark)        1 back scratch          doggy style
greater beta      50dbs (black woman)  10 back scratches      mirrors
lesser alpha     70dbs (2 black women)  leg tourettes             cameras
alpha                100dbs (corvette)      dog shitting peach pit   chandelier
supraalpha        150dbs (jet engine)     call a sexorcist         “i am your slave”

There are many reasons for a man to learn game and ascend the ladder of alpha maleness, but one goes unmentioned far too often: The better your game, the more pleased your women will be with your sexual healing.

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Attention Whore of the Month, Emma Sulkowicz (Asian-Eskimo), once accused a man of rape. She whored for femcunt fame by carrying a mattress around campus as if she was doing the Stations of the Mattress.

Her victim story, predictably, did not hold up, not even in the Columbia University kangaroo court. Her cry of rape is a lie. A fabrication. A delusion. Feminists wept, but soldier on in the belief that there’s a “larger theme” to tell. Just #LikeAGirl.

A Regret Rape is a rape that didn’t happen. Let’s cut to the chase: 99% of false rape accusations are made by plain janes who shot the alpha male boyfriend moon and missed, and were bitter about it.

They didn’t get the relationship and alpha boyfriend status feels they imagined should automatically result from sex, so naturally they respond by marching around with a mattress on their backs and marching into Orwellian university anti-sex league offices to falsely charge innocent men of a vile crime. Dat 60/40 female/male campus sex ratio is really starting to fuck with the heads of marginally bangable girls.

OH WELL. I figure feminist hearts and minds will change once greedy lawyers with brass balls throw a few of these FRA cunts into prison and sue a few Ivies into premature endowment withdrawal.

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The shapes of female figures have real world consequences, for both men’s capacity to experience pleasure and willingness to commit, and for women’s ability to leverage the sexual market to snag a winner man and fulfill their romantic needs. Given that men, unlike women, are neurally primed to get aroused and motivated solely by stimulating visual cues, it’s difficult to overestimate just how much a good body shape assists women in the promise of a healthy and happy love life.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” is a lie insofar as it presupposes every female body type is equally attractive. They aren’t. Women don’t have equal sexual or marriageable worth. Some body types are better than others. And one body type is so much better than the others that women who possess it can name their price.

The Anti-Gnostic, ruddy and taut from doing a yeoman’s job disinfecting that cistern of stupidity at Cheap Chalupas whenever the subject turns to mass nonwhite immigration, forwards a handy chart illustrating the four five female body types.

He adds for effect,

Female body types: hourglass, pear, banana, apple.

I’d add a body type of “rotund”, given the historically unprecedented numbers of fertile, obese females.

Never bonked an apple or a rotund. Ever. I’ve had some widely variant sexual partners, but if she doesn’t have inflection points that result in a definite waist, the right subinsular is just not going to be firing. No amount of drugs or desperation on earth could get me over that hump.

The recently added Rotund fifth female body type:

Who said America’s inventive spirit is dead? We’ve invented a whole new female body type!

Of the five, rotund is obviously the most disfiguring, and the ugliest female body type. A woman with this non-shape will suffer MASSIVE constraints on her mate choice options. Compared to less celestial women, she will have the least number of men pursuing her, and those who do will be the lowest value men. Her odds of spending many years enduring painful involuntary solitude are very high. Like her male analogue the socially clumsy nerdo, she will likely spend months, perhaps even years, in parched involuntary sexlessness. And any man she does manage to lure into her sticky, bulbous, pitcher plant vagina will be less interested in a longer-term commitment with her than he would with a woman of more human shape.

The Rotund female body type is so bad in contrast with the others that it practically deserves its own graphic. Correction: It needs its own graphic due to screen size limitations. So we boot Violet Blobbybarge into Jupiterian orbit where she belongs, and rank the remaining four female body types in ascending order of attractiveness.

Apple

Not nearly as atrociously repulsive as the Rotund, the Apple nonetheless squats lumply below the other three body types. Top heaviness works for linebackers, not women.

Pear

The Pear is interesting, because much of her sexual appeal or lack thereof depends on the distribution of her fulcrum fat. If her fat sits grotesquely on her hips like a hoop dress, and her ass juts like a National Geographic native, she will turn off more (white) men than the Apple-shaped girl. If she sports an incipient fupa, even worse. The entire deleterious effect is magnified if her narrow-shouldered upper body sways like a swamp reed atop the mountain of fat below.

But if the Pear’s fat isn’t obtrusive, and it rests gracefully and smoothly on child-birthing hips without too much distortion, the Pear can be quite bangable. Unfortunately, most Pears aren’t this lucky.

Banana

I expect this categorization to elicit the most opposition from the penis gallery. Men like curves, and will assume the Pear has more of those boner-inducing curves than the Banana. But that’s not how it always plays out. Bananas have curves that are proportionate to their overall slender body shape. The waist-hip ratio is what counts, not the absolute hip width.

Bananas are your archetypical athletic girls: Tall, slender and built like sex pistons. Bananas are overrepresented among porn starlets, probably because they have the optimal balance of higher testosterone-induced horniness and thin body shapes that arouse male viewers. If the Banana has a narrow waist to complement her lithe hips, and her torso isn’t overdeveloped, she will turn more men’s eyes than the Pear. However if the Banana is tubular, the Pear with pleasing pelvic padding will win more head-swivel contests.

Keep in mind that men with a keen future time orientation who are also seeking relationships will be better at projecting the Banana and the Pear into the future, whereupon they will see with mental clarity what happens to each type of body after ten or twenty years, and the Pear doesn’t come out looking so good under those conditions. The Banana typically holds up better, while the Pear turns into a Weeble.

Hourglass

And here we arrive, at last, to the goddess. My, but she is a tall drink of tumescence. The vast…. VAST… majority of men prefer hourglass-shaped women. Those perfect Playboy measurements — 34/24/34 and mostly unchanged in their boner-popping power since time immemorial — are so desired by men that women with this body type run laps around their sexual market competition.

The Hourglass lady is desired by the most men, pursued by the most high value men, and when pursued is solicited the most frequently by men with offers of long-term commitment. If she is also pretty of face, she has, for all practical purposes, unlimited sexual market options.

***

There it is. Women would do well to understand and accept the visual acumen with which men make their split-second judgment of women’s bodies. Men are frickin electron microscopes in human form when they’re visually assessing women’s figures. A centimeter here, a millimeter there, can mean the difference for women between suffering the awkward sexual interest of a spazzy beta or the passionate love of a smooth alpha. It can mean the difference between waiting for years for an Alex Pareene to propose in cubic zirconia, or weeks for a God of the Rod to gift wrap a bag of Skittles.

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Coolasfuck Game Of The Day

Every so often a commenter drops a line that couldn’t be a more perfect execution of game in the field.

Walawala graces us with his latest:

The Red Pill realization I have is that despite their constant emotional outbursts and mercurial mood swings, if you understand that deep down inside women want you to “get it” and win them over…the rest of what they do is a smokescreen you have to wade through.

I re-opened a girl I banged mid last year. “Let’s meet up for drinks” I said.

“Seduce me” she replied.

“We’ll see” I said.

The Blue Pill [ed: aka beta] guy would say “OK”….where’s the fun for her in that?

“We’ll see”. No need for exorbitant wit. A simple two-word declaration of fuzzy intent is all it takes to pass the Jumbotron Test and, not coincidentally, the Tingle Test. Coolasfuck. That’s the man you want to be, because that’s the man women love.

Technical game discussion follows.

The reason “we’ll see” is so effective is the challenge implied by the statement. You are essentially disqualifying the girl. The chaser and chasee scripts have been flipped.

“We’ll see if you meet my standards and therefore inspire me to put some romantic effort into wooing you.”

From there, the girl silently translates this into the womanese:

“Who is this guy to be so cavalier about my value as a sexual object? He must be a winner. I like winners. Wooo, suddenly I’m feeling very juicy down below.”

There’s another reason the line “we’ll see” advances from a great one-off open-rift riff to coolasfuck poetry: The brevity. Women prefer curt cads.

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