A reader asks for advice about how to handle a girl clowning around on Tinder, the stripped-down eugenics website that features photos and “likes” and not much more.
On Tinder, this hot, kinda snobby-seeming 27yo (I’m 28) chick’s info is:
“Not interested in love but if you want to sell or buy apartment… I can be your tinder gal “
We match up, I wait/forget a couple days and message:
“So wait, you sell only apt’s to guys you think are cute?”
Her 15mins later (2:30 today):
“Ha it’s a joke but w truth, not on this thing to find men so might as well make it a business transaction.”
Now I want to bust on her for this (b/c it strikes me as ridiculous, and is my honest reaction), but maybe not?
I do pretty well generally (I was like a 17 on that alpha test thing), but this has me unsure as to how to proceed.
Thoughts appreciated. This literally just happened 15mins ago.
Your first reply to her was good. Part teasing, part assuming the sale. Now look at her next reply:
“Ha it’s a joke but w truth”
This chick is on there to meet men, but she’s embarrassed about it and doesn’t have high expectations, so she clowns around to provide herself plausible deniability. If she were really a professional realtor, would she open a Tinder account and write idiotic copy that makes her sound like the last realtor in the world with whom you’d want to do business? Maybe she would. Scouts tell me America the Babel-full teems with so many idiots one would wonder how the whole enterprise manages to function.
“not on this thing to find men so might as well make it a business transaction.”
Did somebody say…
?
Bust on her. Go all in on assuming the sale. Examples:
“If you wanted to meet me, you didn’t have to violate Tinder’s terms of service.”
“Tell you what. I’ll buy your apt if you buy me a drink.” (Obviously, you are not buying her apt.)
“‘business transaction’ gotcha. Hate to tell you, but I’m not that kinda guy.”
“It’s always about transactions with you girls. I can only love so much.”
Or, tease her hard:
“You’re a dude, I bet.”
“Your business model needs work. Show more skin.”
“Apt for sex. I don’t consort with hookers.” (100% chance she’ll qualify herself)
“this works for you?”
“men fall for this?”
Finally, you could just blow her off:
“good luck”
“gay”
“lame”
“i prefer doing business with a more experienced realtor.”
Let us know how you proceed(ed). The readership will be interested in the most effectively tailored response should similar situations arise for them.
Canadian Inmates Connect Inc. showcases numerous prisoners serving life sentences and helps the incarcerated find pen pals and, perhaps, much more.
The 16-month-old website, which promotes some 40 convict profiles, has even churned out a few lockup love stories.
The site’s founder says several prisoners have asked her to remove their bios because they have already found that special someone.
There are whole armies of beta males who spend months and even years in book clubs, at speed dating events, and in bars and happy hours hoping to meet that special someone but coming up empty every time, while convicted murderers sit in cells as ladies basically throw caution to the wind and hurl themselves at them.
Melissa, who does not want her family name published due to privacy and safety concerns, was inspired to start the website after seeing similar ones in the United States.
America, fuck yeah!
[Melissa:] “It doesn’t matter what they’ve done. It’s not for me to judge… I’m just a firm believer in redemption and rehabilitation… I believe everybody deserves a second chance.”
Nonjudgmentalism: the leading sickness of a sick society. Or: this is what happens when you let women have the run of the place.
The profiles are authored entirely by the convicts, which means nobody double-checks them for accuracy.
No worries. These are pre-approved alpha males, which means the women will suspend all disbelief.
In a disclaimer on the website, Canadian Inmates Connect states that it’s not responsible for any type of relationship developed through its pages.
And by “relationship”, they mean any love match which may go awry and lead to “accidental” auto-asphyxiation or headless torsos under floorboards.
“They’re taking the chance to write to these guys.”
Yet, for some mysterious reason, the increased risk and obstacles to FMAC (Find Meet Attract Close) alpha inmates don’t deter any of these women from their dates with destiny.
Since inmates don’t have Internet access in the clink, initial contact must be made via snail-mail to their respective penitentiary.
There will never be a Canadian Law-Abiding Beta Male Connect website. If you aren’t a challenge, the women are callous.
Julie Young, a single mother from Truro, N.S., credits the website for introducing her to a convicted bank robber she hopes to marry one day.
“I would marry him because I love him and I see him having a really good future now,” said Young, whose sweetheart, Steve Mehlenbacher, is serving his fourth federal sentence after a total of 16 bank-heist convictions.
We have our first hamster sighting.
“We get really deep and personal in our letters about our pasts and just stuff like that, so we’re able to open up to one another.
“I never was able to open up to anybody before him.”
When women say this, what the really mean is “I never *wanted* to open up to any of the boring beta herbs I knew before I met my supremo alpha king.”
Eventually, they plan to go to school together to become child-care workers.
Would you entrust your kids to these two? Stick a fork in the West, she’s done.
Young argues that it’s probably safer to get to know a convict than to meet someone at a bar or on standard dating websites.
The hamster has gone feral.
“I heard from a lot of people there’s a lot of weirdos on there,” she said, referring to one popular matchmaking website.
“You could talk to somebody on a dating site in the United States, and you could talk for like three years every day after work or something, and that person could be murdering a bunch of people and you don’t know because they’re just some everyday person, right?”
By comparison, Young says, an inmate cannot just show up at your house uninvited right after you meet them. And she believes they would be less likely to lie since you already know why they were sent to jail.
“You just do your research on them, or whatever, and you’ll be good,” she said.
Congratulations, Julie Young, you are the Chateau’s Hamster of the Month! Or, rather, your hamster is hamster of the month. You, Julie Young the person, are apparently just a fleshy vessel to nourish your hamster which squats in your skull in complete operational control of all your faculties.
Many of the notes, [alpha criminal thug] said, were from women hoping to see him at the prison for conjugal visits.
“I already had women who were willing to do that,” Mehlenbacher said.
“That’s not what I was looking for.
“I wanted to find a real relationship.”
A thousand betas wept in unison.
[Melissa, the owner of the inmate dating website] said her cousin has died since she started the website and the death occurred in a suspicious case that she said police believe might have been murder, though the investigation is still ongoing.
Melissa added that she’s been in contact with the potential suspect and even brought that person to the funeral home when nobody was around, so the person could say a final goodbye to her cousin. All of this was with her family’s blessing, she added.
“The person’s still a human being,” she said.
“I don’t think anything that happened that night was intentional.
“Would I allow this person to join the website? Absolutely.”
Is it possible that two giant, feral hamsters, zombified by a disease of platitude prions, are on the loose in one news story? Yes. Congratulations, Melissa, you are now our second winner of Hamster of the Month, a prize you share with the esteemed Julie above, sweet girl who knows those murderous alpha male prisoners that leave her snatch sopping are just angels on the cusp of redemption.
I would tell you to go read the full article for more triple-action *facepalm*ing goodness, but what’s the point? Anyone who isn’t a sputtering hater or a complete retard about the female of the human species knows the score by now. It’s just overkill. And overkill is the way the ladies like it.
In related sequiturs, it’s high time the ruling class ditched their equalism ideology and started offering inmates deals for early release on condition they get vasectomies. Similarly, women with a history of dating societal parasites should be offered cash for Norplant, and those who couldn’t thwart their spawnage in time should be escorted to the abortion clinic by limo, all expenses paid, plus a little extra. Say, two months’ worth of McDonalds coupons.
Has it ever occurred to you, that this “game theory” stuff is just another way of appeasing women?
Has it ever occurred to you that make-up is just another way women appease men? Has it ever occurred to you that men must make more conspicuous up-front effort to attract women than women must make to attract men because of the inherent differences in the nature of the sexes?
It’s the same as the men who claim to be feminists; both are changing their behaviour (or rather putting on a ridiculous act) to please some chick.
The difference is that men who claim to be feminists to win pussy are pursuing a flawed strategy, unless the pussy they want to win is fat, ugly and unfeminine.
I think the real alpha thing to do would be to stick to who you are, and if the woman doesn’t like it, move on.
“Just be yourself.”
I’m aware that attractive women do gravitate towards certain kinds of personality, isn’t it far more important to be honest with yourself than to have sex with attractive women?
Good salesmanship is not dishonesty. And that’s what the sexual market requires of men: an ability to sell themselves to women.
We here at CH have noticed an uptick lately in game and sexual market denialist hate. The shrillness of the hater crowd has reached fever pitch, and that’s a strong tell that they know their carefully cultivated worldview is coming under attack. Good. There’s nothing like the smell of desperation in the morning.
Here’s a suggestion for the perspiring haters who find themselves scampering into this happy hating ground: First, know that you are up against an enemy the likes of which you have never encountered before. Second, learn to distinguish between is and ought. The Chateau revels in the fun of laying bare the clanking gears of reality and observing the result as the crisis of a thousand consciences unfolds, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we like the world this way, or would want the world, if we had our druthers, to be this way. CH simply gives you the Word; what you do with the Word is your prerogative.
If you can manage that simple distinction without experiencing a mental breakdown like a hysterical woman-child, then you may discover the vitriol in your cragged keyboard fingers dissipating as illumination swarms over you and the lightness of the Chateau’s love makes your heart grow three sizes today.
Ps On the subject of schooling game and sexual market denialist haters, see commenter Steve Johnson (scroll toward the end) in this Steve Sailer thread. The stevedore Steves of hatecargo full of truth.
1. A reader wants to know if he blew himself out of the water.
Background
Her 18 (7)
Me late 20′s (7.5)
We have been studying alone together for the past few weeks both at school and her parents house. (Non dorm college). She send various signs of interest (ex: when working on her computer I accidently clicked on the show background button and it showed a picture of her in a bikini, not her normal background). On the other hand she always mentions her boyfriend who dorms in a different state. I got annoyed with it and showed her a pic of my gf (8.5). we are by Boston
Text follow later that day
Me: let’s work on blah blah next week
Me: also I’m really offended you thought I was middle eastern
Her: my mom thought you were middle eastern too (wide eye smiley)
Me: I’m getting you both glasses!
Me: show your mom this (pic of my European passport) [ed: nicely timed DHV]
Her: I will
Her: were you born there?
Me: let’s talk about it over coffee or something, easier than texting
Her: true
*i never text back
Was it weak to ask via text when I knew I would see her next week?
Mistake to show gf pic and ask to hang out same day? To forward for one young and innocent?
Mistake to send pic of passport? Trying to hard to win her approval? What would you have done instead?
To your first question: Was it weak to ask over text instead of in person? Yes, you could make a case for lameness, particularly since you and her have been, and would continue to be, in the same room together for a few weeks. But this mistake is just a yellow flag, not an own goal.
To your second question: It’s only a mistake to mention your girlfriend if it’s clear to your intended target you’re doing so in reaction to a perceived slight or disappointment. In your case, it sounds like that’s what happened. Luckily, your girlfriend is hot, so your study partner’s “preselected by quality women” algorithmic alpha male detector fired off. I would say this move was a wash in terms of any advantage or disadvantage it gave you.
To your third question: There’s no such thing as being “too forward” with a girl as long as your forward motion is executed with finesse. Recall Poon Commandment XIII:
Err on the side of too much boldness, rather than too little.
If you’re going to make a pick-up mistake, make a mistake while moving toward sex, instead of away from sex.
To your fourth and fifth questions: No, and no. You had an open to DHV with the passport without sounding try-hard.
To your sixth question: I would have texted her again after her last reply. If there is any part of this exchange where you own-goaled, it’s the part when you didn’t follow-up your tacit promise to get her out for coffee. The study room dynamic is sapping the romantic energy between you and her because it’s going on too long without forward progress. You were on the right track with your thought to move her into a different context. After she replied “true”, all you had to write back was “k, X place at X time.”
Ya know, there is seductive aloofness that entrances girls, and there is the overwrought aloofness that men who are suddenly afraid of success will resort to as a mechanism for avoiding the pain of a rejection that heretofore only exists in their heads.
tl;dr Bust a move.
***
2. A reader has sprog on the nog.
So I’ve ‘taken the red pill’, learnt game, agree with you on everything about not getting married etc.
However, I can’t seem to shake my desire to have children. To me, it seems like one of the most worthwhile things you do can with a life is to have kids. Maybe it’s because my parents did an incredible job raising my siblings and I, but I just feel like it’s a legacy I want to create.
How do you come to terms with this (assuming you share the same view)? Is marriage ESSENTIAL for having, and properly raising children? Do you believe you can do so without marriage (seen as I adamantly want to avoid it)? Or do you just not share my same desire?
Is marriage essential for having children? What do you think this is, 1950s America? You can be in prison and still pop out four upstanding citizens if you have a way with words and the low impulse control that chicks lurv.
But maybe you’re the kind of would-be father who actually wants to be around his kids, and impart his wisdom so that they may grow up proud and strong and become net tax payers to support the kids of the kinds of fathers and mothers who don’t much care about imparting wisdom to their womb spewage. Maybe you had the misfortune of being genetically cursed with a K-selected psychology in an increasingly r-selected world.
r-selected world r-selected world r-selected world girl (li-ving in an r-selected world we are li-ving in an r-selected world)
If kid quality is your Job 1, then yeah get married. It’s good for the children. Marry young, marry hot, marry tight. And marry chaste. (Not you. Her.) But if marriage is not your bag (and who could blame you?), you can get the same child-raising, K-assuaging, father-amazing benefits by having kids within a committed, cohabiting relationship. It works for Sweden. Well, it works for Sweden’s historical native people, at any rate. There’s nothing magical about signing on the dotted line that will alter the properties of your character, other than the disincentive magic of divorce theft. But if that’s what you need to keep your lover or yourself in line, perhaps she’s not the one you should be considering for the mother of your children.
***
3. Reader can’t believe the Pavlovian call-response of modern women.
I think this world is coming to an end. I was chatting to this girl on a dating site. I opened her by being polite and respectful, because she was from a southern country and I thought she was traditional.
She basically brushed me off by telling me I’m ugly.
Next day I make another profile and find her. My profile had nothing special at all, my picture was even uglier than the previous one. First words I open her with : you’re fat. Guess what? She was all nice and flirty with me.
Wtf is going on? Has feminism even reached the corners of all sounthern latin countries now? This is ridiculous.
I’m not a fan of the “insult as substitute for fine-tuned neg” game, but even I’m occasionally amazed at how often a shot of straight-up asshole works on women. If you’re ever stuck on a recalcitrant Westernized girl, and it’s going nowhere fast, just call her fat. It beats doing the same beta suck-up routine and expecting different results.
***
4. A reader has ideas in his head that might be counter-productive.
I would love your feedback on this-
Some brief background- I’m a recovering beta (with the soul of an alpha but duped by societal pressures, etc. to being a beta)- I was in a relationship for 11 years (was married for 7 of those years). For job purposes I moved to Paris France while my wife stayed in the US, with the plan being for her to move here after a year. She cheated on me during that year, and we broke up soon after she moved here (she still had to spend a year here as she had already committed work-wise to doing it).
Absence makes the heart grow fonder… up to a point. Extended absence makes the heart go wander. Especially if that heart is desired by a lot of other hearts in the sexual market.
This was 2.5 years ago, I was a different man then than I am now. I’m better off because of the divorce (which I never had the balls to do myself then). I’m going to visit home in a couple of weeks. Part of me wants to track this guy down (I know what city he lives in and a few people he knows, and presumably could do it) and beat the shit out of him, just to prove something about my manhood.
Whenever you feel this feel, just remember that your ex-wife represented one-half of the parties involved in the adultery. Beating the shit out of this dude, if it gets back to her, will only enable her to avoid blame for her own part in her disloyalty.
Part of the reason is that if he is still with my ex-wife (I feel like they may be- all I know is he visited her in Europe at least once while she was there for a year after we split) I just want her to know that I did that- not with any attempt or interest to win her back or anything.
I really recommend against this. You want to get back at your cheating whore of a whore’s whore ex-wife? Date a hotter babe and make sure the ex sees you together with her. That will impact her psyche a thousand times more than downwind news that you brawled with her boyfriend.
Do you think this is worth the effort- (tracking down and beating the shit out of the guy who fucked my ex-wife while I was with her) – in what it means to me in being a mostly alpha guy? Or is it more alpha for me to live my life and forget about them?
A good way to judge your frame of mind in these situations is to ask yourself, “If my ex was suddenly aroused by my display of alpha after trouncing the guy she cheated with while we were together, and she made it clear she wanted me back, would I gladly accept the opportunity?” If you answer “yes”, then you don’t have the right (aka alpha) frame of mind.
More generally this is a question I struggle with in my life at the moment. I know that I do care about how people remember me- but to what extent should I expend energy towards affecting the memories of me from people in my past, compared to spending energy on my bright future in general?
I think you already know the answer to your question.
***
5. This reader has a request for analysis of his text game.
Got a girl’s number on the street through using the “put your number in my phone” routine I saw on your site. Waited four days, and texted her to meet up, and tried to operate as I thought Chateau would advocate. Was wondering if you could evaluate my textual interaction to get her out. [Names changed to protect the devious.]
Monday., April 22, 4:08pm
Me: Hey Katie, we should go out this week. -Brad from X last Thursday
4:30pm
Her: Alright, so you definitely caught me off guard, and I’m not going to lie I was pretty flattered. I’m sorry, I just didn’t get a chance to tell you that I have a boyfriend.
7:27pm
Her: I really am sorry, I do admire your confidence :/
Tuesday, April 23 11:17am
Me: U seem like an independent person who can hang with who u want. Let’s meet up tomorrow.
The problem with waiting a day to respond to a girl who dropped an “IHAB” on you is that you risk coming off like a guy who got blindsided by her revelation and needed a day to compose himself. You shoulda replied soon after. That said, this is a decent rescue of a text exchange heading south out of the gate.
11:42am
Her: But you hardly know me not to mention I think that wouldn’t be the greatest idea seeing as that would be shady on my part.
12:33pm
Her: And what could you get out of going out with a girl who has a boyfriend?
The good: She texted you back immediately, and texted twice in a row. There’s some interest.
The bad: She mentioned the boyfriend again. She might not be bluffing.
The opportunity: When a girl mentions her boyfriend a bit too frequently, it sometimes is a tell that she harbors illicit fantasies and is leaning on the “boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend” chant to strengthen her resolve in the face of temptation, or to excuse herself of any responsibility should she HAPPEN to succumb to another man’s seductive charm. You know, the ol’ “But I told him I had a boyfriend, so anything that happens between us will be his fault” hamster rationalization.
1:23pm
Me: I won’t judge u, Katie. (Particular bar) tomorrow at 8
I don’t like this response. Too straight and by the book. You’re playing into her frame, i.e., you’re tacitly agreeing with her that it would be shady for her to meet with you. Better to have replied playfully, For example:
Her: And what could you get out of going out with a girl who has a boyfriend?
You: A free drink.
1:29pm
Her: Well I’m not sure what this has to do with my independence but I can’t meet you especially when I don’t even know you, Brad.
Ok, she’s interested. She’s begging for you to give her the flimsy excuse she needs to come out and see you.
3:21pm
Me: U know u can, Katie, and should. Come get to know me tomorrow. Don’t cheat yourself.
Game by assertion? I like the “don’t cheat yourself” line, but this reply is veering dangerously into begging territory. You’re totally in chasing mode. I dunno. It’s not my style. Anyone else want to chime in here? YaReally? I’ll give you points for boldness and directness, though. That may be enough.
Wednesday April 24, 12:02am
Her: I just don’t even know what to say anymore to be honest
As long as a girl is still replying, the game is still on.
11:52am
Me: Say you’ll see me tonight
This kind of earnest charm works better face to face, where you can soften the sappy edge with a smirk. In text, you risk sounding desperate, even with the ameliorating smilie.
12:31pm
Her: Do girls just not say no to you very often or something?
She’s stiiiiiiillllll replying.
2:24pm
Me: Other girls have nothing to do with me and u
Ok, so you’re basically running battering ram game. Nothing wrong with that. It can work well on girls who had an initial reservoir of romantic interest.
2:28pm
I don’t even know your full name, and my name is spelled “Katy” by the way haha.
Did you misspell her name on purpose the whole time? If so, kudos, sir.
4:13pm
Me: Duly noted, Katy. I’ll be sure to give u my last name right when we meet up tonight
This is becoming too insistent. You need more cocky playfulness. All I see is you chasing 100% and her being chased 100%. For instance, there was an opportunity here to fuck around with the “wrong name” conversational subthread. Instead of “Duly noted, Katy”, you could have replied “Duly noted, Qaaytee”.
7:43pm
Me: U on way, katy?
I know the Chateau recommends Zero Punctuation, but honestly it looks kind of stupid when a man uses “U” in place of “you”.
7:45pm
Her: No I’m not haha I’m studying I don’t believe I told you I was going
Aaaand…. failure to launch.
7:47pm
Me: Gay
The “gay” response is better at the start of trouble, not ten days later.
7:50pm
Her: Not gay it’s a Wednesday night
She’s just using you for shits and giggles now. Abandon ship.
My next move was to abandon her, but if she contacts me, wait a long time to respond and somehow fit in the “because I don’t want to get you pregnant” line. Your opinion?
“if she contacts me”. That “if” is a big if. You’re thinking twelve chess moves ahead when she hasn’t even moved her pawn E2 to E4. There might be a way to turn this around and somehow convince her to go out with you, but I think you’ll have an easier time recruiting a new girl for a date. And it sounds like that kind of perspective is what you need.
Behold your modern White man of the West. Honored descendant of great warriors:
…brilliant thinkers:
… and sturdy yeomen:
Fatter, wimpier, more pathetic. Bequeathed a noble heritage that perhaps surpasses every other culture’s heritage come before or since, the modern Western White man disgraces his forebears in all manner, by every measure. His disgrace and capitulation to pampered weakness is so complete, the great men of his lineage would scarcely recognize him as human, let alone as a child of their righteous loins.
He submits to the raping of his countries’ largesse by invading foreigners and citizen subversives. He excuses the actions of those who would sooner wipe him from the face of the earth, and whips himself into a fervid masochistic spectacle for imagined sins purged on the altar of social standing. He spits on his brothers for a pittance and he salts the soil from which his dwindling posterity must grow. He amuses himself with parlor games and slick sophistry, while he hypocritically runs from the very heart of his words to outpost gardens that shelter his sermonizing from scrutiny. He has let his women run wild, appeasing their last whim, and in return has been rewarded with their total disrespect for his pleasure, for his dignity, for his presumption. He indulges in stupefying drugs of the belly and the mind, concentrated by his soft-pedal puppeteers for maximum potency, and loses himself in petty pop culture distractions so perfectly crafted to sedate any spark of fighting spirit or any glimmer of awareness at his decrepit prospects. He licks the boots of his self-assumed betters and endures their debt-propped credentialist servitude in hopes of a place at the shrinking table, or he denies betterment and retreats to a spiteful underculture of crass gluttony and exhilarating dysfunction. He dutifully mouths ruling class slogans as he bristles incoherently within a maze of diverse strangeness and under the gaze of cold surveillance. He wars with his masculine essence, surrendering to caricature or to simulated castration.
He farms gold, he uploads, he downloads, he pants loads, he MGTOWs, he cube codes, he Insta-chodes, he’s friendzoned, he faps alone, he dates low, he marries old, he’s sorta ‘mo (he’s proud to show), he cornholes, he corn sows, he’s a cuddle pro, he tucks a micro, he’s equality yo, he’s a harmless bro, he fucks slow (first licks her hole), no means no (as he well knows), he’s wow just wow (brash scares him so), he’s status quo, he’s a quota goat, his girlfriend’s gross (he won’t tell her though), he nuzzles cows, he scrapes and bows, he’s a cog-to-go, he luvs a ho, his titties grow, he’s GIRL YOU GO!, his ex-wife’s boyfriend spends his dough, his girlfriend fucked an asshole…
…he knows no home to call his own.
The modern Western White man is one fat fold away from watching forlornly as his scepter and orbs of manly pride dip below a tragic horizon, forever out of sight.
But, hey, those smartphones are nifty, right? You can use them to call for help when another fat feminist or ingrate racial huckster shits in your face for fun and profit.
Esteemed and slightly deranged readers, a contest is in order to determine the best, all-purpose alpha male text response that a man can send to a woman who is behaving womanly. By “womanly”, I mean head games, coyness, and the usual panoply of female shit tests intended to weed out the wilting betabois from the alert alphas. By “all-purpose”, I mean a response that can be slipped seamlessly into the flow of most text conversations with a girl whom you are trying to bang (or not bang, but just fucking around with for flirty fun) that serves to heighten her curiosity and sexual interest.
An all-purpose alpha male text ideally would be:
1. Short and sweet. Chicks dig opaque men.
2. Funny and/or witty.
3. Self-entitled.
4. Endearingly dismissive and cocky.
5. Borderline assholish.
6. Sufficiently ambiguous that it can be used as a reply to a variety of soft or hard challenges from women.
The following ten contenders for Most Alpha Text (MAT) are the collected gems culled from the best of the Chateau archives:
Think hard about this vote, because your life depends on it.
The voting:
Most Alpha TextgayBring the moviesI don’t want to get you pregnantnahLittle spoons don’t ask big questionslotstas ccockas 4u lzozozozozSeriously tho! ur pussy rocks!Are you auditioning for a soap opera?tl;dr8===DVoteView ResultsPolldaddy.com
In a mainstream media aka Cathedral loser-whistle article (h/t “garter snake”) about older women “””dating””” younger men, one of the interviewed aging beauties had this to say,
Felicia Brings was 31 and dating a 25-year-old man in the 1970s and so feared losing her job over it that she kept the relationship a secret. “I was so ashamed,” recalled Brings, now 65 and living in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. “At that time, if the guy was younger, you were considered a pervert.”
Brings now gravitates toward younger men — the largest disparity was when she was 50 and dating a 25-year-old — because she finds she connects with them better and, frankly, men her own age aren’t as interested in her.
“When I was in my 40s, I realized I had become invisible to men of my own generation,” said Brings, co-author of “Older Women, Younger Men: New Options for Love and Romance” (New Horizon Press). She noticed younger men, often raised by feminist women, were intrigued by and admiring of her success and experience, whereas older men seemed threatened and expected women to play traditional roles.
Language is supposed to convey meaning, but when a hamster has swallowed it, digested it, and shat it out, we are compelled to sift through the pellets to find the embedded fiber of meaning.
Translated from the Hamsterese, abridged version:
Women are like dog shit. The older they get, the easier they are to pick up.
Translated from the Hamsterese, full version:
Felicia Brings was 31 and banging a 25-year-old boring mediocrity in the 1970s and so feared losing her mind over it that she kept the twice yearly sex sessions a secret. “I was so ashamed,” recalled Brings, now 65 and living in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. “At that time, if the guy was younger, you considered yourself a romantic failure.”
Brings now gravitates toward younger beta males of EatPrayLove ethnicity who are desperately horny and unable to command attention from non-morbidly obese women their own age — the largest disparity was when she was 50 and dating a 25-year-old abject loser — because she finds she genitally connects with the paid gigolos better and, frankly, men her own age aren’t as interested in her when younger, hotter, tighter women are available to them.
“When I was in my wall impact 40s, I realized I had become invisible to men of every generation who had options,” said Brings, co-author of “Older Women, Younger Effete Manboobs: New Ways to Temporarily Sedate the Pain of Being Sexually Worthless to the Men You Really Want” (New Whorizon Press). She noticed younger closet cases, often raised by feminist women, were pretending to be intrigued by and admiring of her success and caustic careergrrl personality, whereas older men who weren’t piss-stained street bums seemed viscerally disgusted by the thought of sex with her flabby carcass and expected women to be minimally attractive to coax a semi.
Hamster status: nuked and raining tufts of blood spattered fur.
This has got to be a Hamster of the Month contender. The alacrity with which aging starlets resort to the “men who don’t want me are threatened by my career success and life experiences” shibboleth should be included in the DSM-IV as a diagnosable psychological disorder.
< Bizarro Obama > Let me be clear, feminist platitude pushers. < /bizarro obama > Men are “threatened” by the accumulated career success and loudly exhorted independence of aging sirens like they’re threatened by a mound of warm, steaming shit: they think it’s disgusting and don’t want to touch it or smell it, let alone stick their dicks in it.
HTH.
I don’t doubt that there are aging divas getting their overworked holes mechanically serviced by dorky desperadoes bursting with the dull pain of years of unexpelled cum. Nor do I doubt that some of those aging Isn’t Girls manage the miracle of convincing a lonely, thoroughly gelded pudgeball with swaying bitch tits and the hormonal profile of a soybean to stick around for more than a few nights of lusterless dispassion.
But, like Mrs. Robinson’s escape from reality, their younger lovers plungers usually fly the coop as soon as a cute girl half the age of the younger men’s groundbreaking intercourse aging mentors bats a dewy eyelash at them. That’s why so many of these loud and empowered aging dames reel off a laundry list of younger “lovers”; apparently not a one of these sensitive and intrigued lovers was interested in putting a ring on it, or even hanging around beyond the proximity of the industrial-sized bottle of lube. And when you ask the aging maiden about her current relationship status, she’s always “gravitating” toward this or that great type of guy.
If this post wasn’t enough of an ego MOAB for you, allow me to bullet-point the relevant shivs:
1. Older women are not fucking younger men in any appreciable numbers, and certainly not anywhere near the numbers of older man-younger woman couples. The whole notion is a wishful concoction of the feminism-drenched fluff media industry.
2. Every rule has its exceedingly rare exceptions. Older woman-younger man arrangements do exist, however their existence is not proof of a noteworthy reality that can impact the otherwise normal functioning of the sexual market.
3. Within the small subset of older woman-younger man pairings, the romantic dynamic is mostly energized, such as it is, by the easy path to sex provided to the younger man who would otherwise have trouble getting laid. Very few older woman-younger man bedroom jaunts grow into committed relationships. Most end unceremoniously within a matter of months.
4. Within that tiny sub-subset of romantically committed older woman-younger man pairings, the younger man is typically a low value omega male who couldn’t get laid in a libertardian-run brothel with a fistful of bitcoins.
5. A non-trivial number of older woman-younger man sex romps are between aging fat women and younger black men who seem to possess, contrary to what is observed in most other races, a complete and utter lack of discriminating taste in short-term sexual partners. The women in these squalid arrangements resemble, in size, shape, color and texture, don’t forget texture, the great resource-aggregating herbivores of the African veldt.
6. The rare, outwardly loving and seemingly stable older woman-younger man couple that one might occasionally glimpse in SWPL enclaves are often the tired detritus of a relationship that began with passionate keenness when the man was, say, in his early 20s and the woman was in her late 20s, and in the fullness of time and familiarity managed to avoid rupture by sheer force of risk-averse beta male inertia.
Some of you wonder why I drop the hammer of candor on liars and deluded freaks with such Thorian dispatch. What’s the upside?
The upside is that a world with fewer reality-denying propagandists is a world that is capable of turning away from the elevation of ugly and toward the exaltation of beauty. That’s the kind of world I want to live in; a world easier on the eyes and happier in the heart.
“I want to hatef— Meg Lanker- so hard,” the Facebook post said. “That chick that runs her liberal mouth all the time and doesn’t care who knows it. I think its hot and it makes me angry. One night with me and shes gonna be a good Republican b—-.”
Strong projection. Anyone doubt this is one fat, ugly feminist who secretly desires to be sexually ravaged by a clean-cut, offensively tumescent registered Republican man?
This controversial post Meg Lanker-Simons reported the post to university administrators and campus police, telling the Laramie Boomerang that as a rape survivor this is “one of the worst things someone can threaten.”
On Tuesday, though, it was revealed by University of Wyoming Police Department that they had cited Lanker-Simons herself for the threatening post. In a separate article, the Laramie Boomerang reported police obtained a warrant to search the student’s computer and found substantial evidence verifying that the offending Facebook post came from Lanker-Simons’ computer, while the computer was in her possession.”
B U S T E D.
You’d almost think that what most feminists really crave is romantic attention from strong-willed, unapologetically sexist men who would throw them around in bed like ragdolls if they didn’t weigh 200 pounds, rather than the feeble, teary-eyed, obsequious cloying attention they actually get from the manboobs orbiting them like sad, defunct satellites.
A reader with an urgent family emergency has turned to the Chateau for help.
I have been reading your site for many years now and thank you for all of the wisdom you have shared. Your blog has improved my life in many ways, and I humbly ask your advice now to convince my brother that he is about to make a terrible mistake.
My brother is the pride of the family – went to a top school undergrad, graduated med school last year, and is now on his way to becoming a surgeon. He is a well-adjusted, mature man who has had a couple of long term relationships in the past and possesses above average intellect, physical, and social skills.
For the past 6 months he has been dating an unemployed divorcee who is 8 years older (he’s 28, she’s 36). This summer he will be moving across the country for his next rotation and they have decided that she will also move and live together with him. She has no social network in the region and even if she finds a job will be relying almost entirely on him financially, emotionally, etc. Not surprisingly she has been pushing him for a ring and a baby, and he seems to be happily going along with this.
My parents and extended family are distraught. We have all tried to reason with him but to no avail. You and your esteemed commentators can all see the train wreck that will occur if my cousin decides to marry and start a family with this woman.
My question to you is this: how can I talk him out of it?
Nervously Poolside,
Dr. No
This reader’s brother needs an intervention. A strong, powergut propelled, three pats on the back intervention. The best teachable moments are those which sock the nascent quisling in the face with a blistering infographic:
The graph is via GLPiggy. As you can see, more women have sex before age 25, but after that the dynamic flips and it’s men who enjoy the edge in sexual pleasure. The why is simple: women are most desirable when young. Men are most desirable when older, and continue staying desirable well into middle age. The underlying why is even simpler: Female attractiveness is almost entirely a function of their physical beauty. Male attractiveness is a function of multiple causes, including status, power, charm, looks and social dominance.
This is CH 101, aka Life 101, aka Feminist Soul Implosion 101.
So tell your brother it makes no sense to marry a woman eight years older than himself when he has the SMV goods RIGHT NOW to land a hotter, tighter, younger babe without divorce baggage, said baggage which itself is strong evidence she will divorce again. And on top of that, his SMV will only increase for another ten, perhaps twenty years, while hers, if she is the typical woman following the usual senescence track, will have a date with the wall of sexual expiration just about the time his appeal is maxing out.
That’s a recipe for marital failure. It makes no sense for him to hitch his cart to this gimp horse, unless….
she’s hot.
I mean, balls tingling, cock leaping hot.
You left this out of your description of her. Be honest, how hot is she? A hard 10? And not just for her age? Because if that’s the case, (however unlikely), many would find it difficult to dissuade him from experiencing the kind of glorious transcendental passion that most men can only crave from the sidelines of their gloomy masturbatoria.
You see, a man falls in love with a woman’s beauty. He does not fall in love with her smarts, her job, her credentials, her family connections, her employability, her future time orientation, or her ability to stand against the patriarchy or avoid the pitfalls of divorce.
Her beauty inspires his devotion, his lust, his love, his tenderness, his protectiveness, his delirium. Once inspired, he begins the journey of discovering all those other little things about her that seem now to him so powerfully alluring. Her beauty is the buttering ram that slides open doors to aspects of her subtler being that are joyously and post hoc-ally embraced by him as motivating reasons for his ardor.
Save this man, yes.
But save him from what? Himself? Or your family’s concern with appearances?
I ask with all sincerity. Because you need to be sure that you will act in your brother’s best interest. If he’s a man of solid self-possession who happens to be truly, deeply, crazily in love, leave him be. If he’s a beta who is clinging to what he imagines is a lifeline from a fate of grinding loneliness, then by all means get in his face.
Show him this blog. Let him sponge up the message that is both necessarily hateful and nourishing.
Slyly introduce finer specimens of femaledom into his life. Let him smell their intoxicating aroma.
Employ the carrot and the stick, the coax and the shame. In time, if he is not completely lost to the forces of self-doubt so preciously cultivated by our feminism glorified society, he will find his footing.
Preferably in the bed of a 22 year old stripper.
UPDATE
An astute commenter has noted that the reader requesting advice referred to the man in question as his brother, and then as his cousin. This may indeed be a troll email.
Nevertheless, the message stands. Trolls can often serve as useful springboards to discuss larger matters which do impact the lives of many men.
UPDATE 2
From original emailer,
My sincere gratitude for your post.
The cousin is a typo, he is my brother and this is a very real situation.
The woman in question is not hot at all, though not ugly – clearly post wall looking to latch on to a provider. 5 at best.
We are acting in his best interest as we can all see what will happen a few years down the road as your readers have already noted. He is more the latter than the former in terms of self possession vs beta – our working theory is that he fell headlong into this because he was in a new city working brutal hours without close friends around.
I am staging an intervention imminently and will keep you posted. The red pill will be hard for him to swallow but its better to go down swinging.
Just inform him that there are hot 21 year old women he can meet just about anywhere who would swoon for his surgeon swagger. Once he knows that, tell him he needs game. Direct him to the resources at this blog. Rudimentary game is all it should take for a whole world of young, exquisite pussy to blossom before his eyes. It sounds like the beta is strong in this fellow, so his shift in attitude from a scarcity mentality to an abundance mentality will need to be swift and sure. Good news: the shift will fully reflect his real opportunity.
In that great, dispiriting void between unattainable wish and attainable reality squats the single mom in daydreamy repose. Menstruating a rambling, poorly spelled, grammatically sloppy HuffPo missive on the appeal of the dominant alpha male, a single mom falls into old person sex on the first date with a beefy, motorcycle riding man who, apparently, doesn’t fit any of her criteria for the ideal boyfriend.
We’ve all heard this story before: Alpha male provides night (or two) of intimate pleasure to aging single mom, then disappears, slowly or abruptly, from her life. She is confused and saddened, so she back-rationalizes the experience as one of her making, a supposed choice to regard the alpha male as a “short term fling” with whom she never wanted anything more than a sweaty pump and dump.
Similarly, said single mom who deeply and profoundly yearns for a man in her life to lighten her snot-faced load, may preemptively rationalize her alpha male lover as a “fun time”, so that his inevitable departing for better fun with unattached women can be safely dismissed by her primed ego as a consequence that she desired.
In the Battle Hamster Cage Fight, it’s hard to pick a winner between the fat chick’s and the single mom’s rodent. Both are energized by steroidal self-preservation. Both will stop at nothing to deny their limited sexual market options or the suffocating reality of their bleak romantic prospects. Both are driven to insane mutterings when confronted by dark truths.
It’s all bullshit. Finely embroidered, exquisitely tailored bullshit, but bullshit nonetheless. The ideal dating scenario for women is an alpha male lover, in bed and beyond. Even science has shown this female craving for the alpha male who is both lover and boyfriend is the underlying need and want of women.
Their words in Cathedral rags targeted at an adoring choir may sound chirpy and upbeat, but no amount of exuberant turd polishing will change the trajectory of their afflicted lives: The single mom, like the fat chick, may occasionally get her one night of passion with an exciting man, but she’ll be forced by circumstance to settle for the boring beta male willing to stick around for lack of better options. And that’s if she’s lucky. Some won’t even find their beta male plan B. Their fate is a lonely catscape echoing the mournful mews of alpha male animal simulacra.
