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Tiger Blood Game

How do you survive that?

Because I’m me. I’m different. I just have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart… you know, I’ve got tiger blood, man.

A big thank you is owed super alpha Charlie Sheen for distracting us Americans from the debt sinkhole, multicult mass brain disease and Third Worldization of our country. Thanks bud!

What can be said about this guy? Is he a little crazy? Yep. A jerk? Yep. A drug addict? Probably. Alpha? You bet.

No one claimed alpha males had to be admirable (though personally I find much to admire about Sheen). The alpha male and the admirable man may often be the same, but not always. Women, saddled as their emotionally stunted gender is with an underdeveloped sense of justice and fairness, swoon for the alpha male, whether or not he is admirable. Sure, women will talk a big talk about the fine traits of admirable men, but when pussy comes to tingle, it’s double alpha all the way.

Sheen is an example of the highwire alpha extremis male who draws women into his orbit through intensity, unpredictability, charisma and rebelliousness. What he lacks in grace under pressure and amused mastery he makes up for with brazen candor and fearlessness, as well as a take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude. We could call this Tiger Blood Game.

There’s a lot to note in Sheen’s Tiger Blood Game that follows the tenets of this blog.

I’ve got magic and I’ve got poetry in my fingertips, and you know… this includes NAPS.

Cocky funny.

I’m an F-18, bro. I will destroy you in the air and I will deploy my ordnance to the ground.

I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available, because if you try it once, you will die.

Be interesting. If you’re going to strut, do it in a way that is funny and captivating.

Stuff just comes out. It’s sounds fun. It sounds different than all the garbage other people are spewing.

Demonstrating higher value via contrast with lower value people. This is similar to the technique of building comfort with a date by poking fun of a guy doing poorly on his date, or asking a girl “how many of these horndogs tonight slobbered all over you?”.

Are you apologizing for anything right now?

Well, I kind of set that one up nicely, didn’t I? Yeah, no, I’m… really, I’m upset about how something was interpreted. I feel terrible it, so I think we should just clear the air on that.

Excellent dodge. The alpha male never apologizes, particularly when he has nothing to apologize for and people are demanding the apology for their own status boosting reasons. (Really, is Chaim, or his shalom chorus, *that* upset that Sheen called him Chaim?)

Stay away from the crack… unless you can manage it socially.

Be a rebel, but be right. This statement may have raised the hackles of the anti-drug crusaders, but it’s true. Some people can handle it, some can’t. Charlie Sheen has money, fame and likely a genetic disposition that enables him to partake of the smiley snow without suffering too many adverse affects. I’ve known quite a few top-flight school MBA students who snorted on the regular, and they’re making money hand over fist.

Sheen did backpedal from this statement, which is understandable. The fuzz are probably on him, so he has to be circumspect now.

Did any of your celebrity friends [editor note: competitor alpha males] give you any advice?

Well, they didn’t give me any advice, and within that, there’s great advice… it was just love.

The alpha male never credits other alphas if it means a diminution in his own status. “Love” is a neutral term in this context which preserves Sheen’s alpha cred.

When you look back at the last time you used drugs, are you disgusted with yourself? Do you think ‘How could I have done that?’

No, no, I’m proud of what I’ve created. It was radical.

You’re proud of that party moment? [editor: classic shaming moment. Will Charlie bite?]

Of course, why wouldn’t I be? [editor: he does not. Bravo!]

Why would you be?

Because I expose people to magic, I expose them to something they’re never going to otherwise see in their normal, boring lives.

He’s bringing the viewer into his world. This is classic attraction phase material. It requires some chutzpah, to be sure, but pimps will tell you this type of “pot of gold at the end of the rainbow” game works wonders on women.

Your anger and your hate are coming off as erratic to people.

My passion, my passion.

The alpha male does not abide others’ frames. He reframes every interaction to his advantage.

Some people say you’re bipolar. That you’re on two ends of the extreme.

Wow, really? So what’s the cure? Medicine? Make me like them? Not gonna happen.

Excellent DHV.

Notice that the question that got Sheen genuinely angry was the reference to his father disapproving of his lifestyle. That is because to a super alpha like Charlie…

only his dad is the greater alpha.

You may not like Sheen, but he’s right about one thing — the most important thing, in fact: He’s taking hot young pornstars to the islands for fuckathons while you’re a depressing bore going home to ingrate kids and a fat wife yelling at you to mow the lawn.

As Sheen might say, “I’m bi-winning.” Truth is, he is.

Well, until the Hollywood honchos string him up like they did Mel Gibson.

Funny story. I was having dinner with friends — mostly an assortment of West Coast SWPLs — and the Sheen subject came up. One guess which Sheen foible got them the most exorcised. Hint: it wasn’t the pornstars, the drugs, the braggadocio, the craziness or the poor parenting.

[crypto-donation-box]

Setting The Record Straight

Kay Hymowitz writes in her new book Manning Up:

SCENARIO 2: The Darwinian Playboy. These are the guys who plan to live alone and have a lot of sex with a lot of women. Though they might hang around for awhile, they will never, ever be that into you. They lard their deep mistrust of women with convenient bits of evolutionary psychology. Some saw fathers, uncles, brothers or friends chewed up and spit out by ex-wives who had cheated on them but still got the house, the kids, and half their ex’s income. Others probably never recovered from their own experience of betrayal; others are geeks who, having spent much of their twenties invisible to women, are also in a vengeful frame of mind. Some of them are devoted followers of CH, a philosophically sophisticated blogger who uses his multitudinous sexual encounters to analyze the amoral nature of female desire; think Hefner via Dostoyevsky. Women, no matter how determinedly enlightened and independent, are turned on by smart, dominant males — not bullies, not necessarily billionaires, mind you, but guys who know how to communicate the right mix of self-confidence, aloofness, and charisma. Love and marriage, concludes CH, are just “pretty lies.” “Marriage is no escape from the sexual market and the possibility that you may be outbid by a competitor with higher value,” he writes. “No matter how much you love your kids, if a divorce happens (50% chance, 70+% chance the wife initiates it) you are going to be paying child support for the new lingerie your ex-wife buys to sexually please her blogger lover. Life is a parade of worry and high wire risk, of love and loneliness, and no socially manufactured arrangement exists to insulate you from your dreaded fears. To imagine otherwise is beta.”

The quote she attributes to this blog is from this post. I notice she decided not to quote more pertinent passages from that post, which would add context and shore up the argument presented against thinking marriage is a fail-safe way to lock a girl in.

Leaving aside for the moment the fact that there are a few writers contributing to the Chateau (gotta give shout outs where due), Hymowitz misunderstands (I’m generously interpreting her motives here) some of the beliefs held by the writers of this blog.

For instance, no Chateau author claimed that love is a “pretty lie”. In fact, just the opposite has been written: that love is the only thing in this world that isn’t bullshit. So right there, that small correction removes a big plank of her smear against “Darwinian Playboys” as merely heartless pump and dumpers with a chip on their shoulders against women. I mean, how can you demonize a Darwinian playboy who grasps the true nature of female sexual desire and the raw deal that is Western institutional marriage, but who also genuinely loves women and loves being in love with women? Makes it a bit more difficult, eh Kay? But hey, when confronted by a worldview that shakes one’s soul to the core, the urge to construct easily knocked down strawmen is a universal human cognitive deficiency.

Like most feminists and quasi-feminists (I include family values advocates and relationship complementarity libertardians in this bunch), Hymowitz’s hatred of evolutionary psychology is evident, and no wonder — it really does explain, rather elegantly, the behavior of men and women in the sexual marketplace. That women’s behavior can be so analyzed means that women’s actions can be predicted, and subsequently that men with this knowledge can tailor their behavior to get the most out of their interactions with women. Knowledge is a powerful thing, and knowing what’s up does, in fact, shift the balance of sexual power in men’s direction by removing the inscrutability and whimsy that has been the prerogative of women since time immemorial. Game means that it is no longer simply a matter of dumb luck when men get sex and love. Game, contrary to Hymowitz’s sneering dismissal, can increase the amount of love in the world by giving women more of what they desire in men.

Hymowitz, of course, can’t help but slander “Darwinian playboys” as wounded exes, geeks and mistrustful players. Do some men who learn about game fall into one or more of the above categories? Sure. But you could say the same for any group of men following anything. A proportion of white knighters and manginas who would agree with Hymowitz are emo geeks and limp-wristed hipsters who have to beg for table scraps from women. They sublimate their ineffectual effeteness into rage against “the Man”. You could call it a strategy. Mewling sycophantic betas occasionally hook pity fucks with sheer persistence and an effort to overwhelm their prey with egregious displays of phony sympathy. There are “real men” out there who suffered at the hands of ex-wives, or are bitter about having to return home every night to a waddling land beast, who would also balk at the concept of game.

The fact is that the majority of men who learn and use game are well-adjusted and successful in life, and simply want the tools to meet, seduce and bring more pleasure to beautiful women, or to meet and seduce that one perfect woman, fall in love with her, and minimize the chance that infidelity will tear them apart. Many men learn game simply to avoid getting dumped by women they love, and this includes wives swinging the divorce card like a sword of Damocles over their husbands’ necks. Is Kay prepared to say these goals aren’t noble, or aren’t in men’s interests? If not, why not? Kay, if you’re reading, you will be required to frame your answer without insufferable empty-headed references to honor or duty.

Speaking of shaming, Hymowitz has this to say about the supposed fate of the playboy:

Safe prediction: By his mid-40s, the Playboy is doing a comb-over for his balding head and wearing leather jackets to cover up his gut when he goes to bars to pick up women. Despite the fact that he tends to blather on about great bands of the 1990s, there are a few who are willing to sleep with him. Eventually, he’ll find himself seeing one of them and deciding to move in with her. He becomes a stepdad to her kids and begins to dislike her ex as much as she does. He’s not especially happy with his arrangement — he remembers the good old days when women appeared to him like an enormous, all-you-can-eat buffet — but now what’s the alternative?

Let your hate flag fly, Kay! It’s good fun, isn’t it? Yes, yes it is. Welcome to the abyss. You may now check your moral high ground at the door. You’ve no need for it in the hell matrix.

I’ve got news for ya, Kay. All those things happen to most people — men and women — whether they’re married or not. And have you never heard of long term relationships? I’m a big proponent of them, occasionally spiced with the varied fling. All the presumed benefits of marriage with none of the costs. As for single moms… well, if they’re attractive and slender, they’re good for a romp in the hay. Just don’t make the mistake of marrying them or spending too much time with their kids. Keep it short and simple. I recommend two to three months of fun. You don’t want the law to presume you the legal father.

Those balding, paunchy single men are still going to ignore you, Kay, for the hotter younger tighter competition. It’s nature. That some of them without any game and limited options may settle down with a middle-aged hag doesn’t mean they’re gonna like it. Twue wuv! The alternative is for these men to keep in shape and learn game. A man’s options in the sexual market are wide open compared to the options available to middle-aged women. And that’s what really chafes your hide, right, Kay?

***

Glenn Reynolds takes a stab at explaining why he links to this blog (via Vox Popoli), and comes up a bit short.

The “game” stuff pretty much is for douchebags, or at least the otherwise hopeless. It involves taking the sophisticated approach that someone with actual interpersonal skills might employ, and boiling it down to a set of simplified rules that produce a sort of cartoon version — much as you might boil down social interactions into rules for an autistic person; the result is better than nothing, but not the real thing. But although it’s a cartoon — and focused largely on picking up women in bars, a fairly limited and artificial environment to begin with — the simplification process does reveal things that might otherwise be obscured or ignored. And it’s interesting to see some of these insights going mainstream. (The other thing you learn from perusing some of these sites is just how much some men need the help. And I’m not sorry to see them get it.)

First, everyone needs to stop throwing around the word douchebag so lazily and haphazardly. Douchebags aren’t hopeless with women. Just the opposite. Douchebags are pricks and assholes — usually gauche and lower class — who inexplicably do well with women. (Well, inexplicable to anyone who isn’t a reader of the Chateau. We here know the reason why chicks dig jerks.) Think of hotchickswithdouchebags.com, or some of the cast of Jersey Shore.

Most douchebags are naturals with women, probably because they aren’t smart enough to question their unwavering self-confidence. In fact, the best naturals with women mostly occupy the left hand side of the bell curve. The truly dangerous skirt chasers are the naturals with smarts. There aren’t many of them, but they do exist. They are unstoppable forces of nature, owing partly to their concomitant suite of dark triad traits.

Second, game isn’t cartoony at all. It’s actually quite psychologically advanced, which is why less intelligent men have problems understanding it, let alone applying it to real life. Some of the negs and routines are cartoony, but that’s a crutch for newbies who need something simple to start off with. As you get better at game, the cartoonish aspects merge and disappear into your core personality, so that the game you becomes indistinguishable from the real you. And that is the ultimate goal — to seduce without forethought. To live as a seducer in every facet of life, sexual or otherwise.

Third, game isn’t just about picking up women at bars. For fuck’s sake, this is a lazy, half-brained meme that needs to die already. The reality just doesn’t bear it out. My last three girlfriends were met, respectively, on the sidewalk, at a convention and during a bike race. That’s the beauty of game; it’s suited for every environment. There is no environmental limitation on female psychology. Women don’t desire one kind of men in bars and another kind of men at the mall. There is nothing magical about the bar that makes game work. It works everywhere.

The bar meme is silly in another way. The bar is no different in actuality than many other venues for meeting the opposite sex. Online dating, for instance, is nothing but a dry bar. (Unless you like to drink while staring at a computer screen in your gloomily lit bedroom.) Same thing for the park. You meet a woman walking her cat, and you hit it off, using the same or similar techniques you use on women in bars. The only difference is that neither one of you is clutching a drink close to your chest for comfort.

And how “limited” is the bar experience anyhow? It’s dangerous to get into sexual relationships with co-workers (thanks for nothing, feminists) and most people in the cities at least don’t go to church or temple. So the bar has become the go-to meeting place for people with a lick of social savvy who prefer face to face contact over ASCII courting. This is the reality of early 21st century Mexamerica. It’s either the bar or OkCupid for many people.

Game, in fact, can *open* new venues in which to pursue women. When you have the skillset to meet and attract women, you can meet them anywhere. No playground becomes off-limits. Go to the bar? Sure, after I’ve chatted up the girl at the Trader Joes.

A lot of people new to the science and art of game (like, presumably, Instapundit), tend to equate game with the bar and club scene. That’s a misconception. Bars are where a lot of men run game because *that’s where the greatest concentration of young, single women are*. It has nothing to do with the kinds of women who go to bars or the supposed artificiality of bars. It’s simply an opportunity calculation based on target demographic. Game itself is a universal tool of seduction, and shines in and out of bars. If anything, game tends to work better in places other than bars, where girls aren’t expecting to get hit on. Unpredictability is alpha, after all.

[crypto-donation-box]

Reader “Marshy” is becoming the Chateau’s “text guy”. He sent in this example:

A recent conversation from my FB below, names changed to protect the innocent-

Marshy: I would totally fuck you in that wig 😛

Girlie: I look forward to it.

Marshy: I get back in a week, tell your boyfriend to keep you warmed up for me till I get back.

Girlie: I think “he” is out of batteries 🙁

Marshy: c=====3

Girlie: 🙂

Marshy: c===============3

Girlie: Wow, someone needs to cum. I’m going to suck you off so awesome when you get back

Marshy: hang in there, lotsa cocka soon

Witty banter is for beginners. Be the caveman on 4chan. He’s real, he says things that amuse him. He farts in bed and hogs the blanket, he makes her feel virtuous and mature by comparison. She lubs him for it.

Long live “lotsa cocka”.

I like the haphazard attention to punctuation. It’s the little details that matter.

Some of you are probably wondering what’s so special about cavemanning a fuckbuddy. She’s already in his sexual orbit. (Men have a lovers orbit, women have a eunuchs orbit.) She’s not going to go anywhere, you may say.

Not so fast. That kind of thinking leads to complacency, and eventually to getting dumped. Game never rests, because female hypergamy never rests, that is until she has fattened up or aged out of options. I’ve witnessed friends lose fuckbuddies because they became romantically enamored with them, ditching the dirty talk for flowers and soft mewlings of love.

Fuckbuddies are an unusual breed of women. Most women, despite what braggadocio “gurus” say, are not down with fuckbuddy status. Now it is possible to string along a woman in a de facto FB zone, but this requires some deft prevarication and stalling. That is advanced game for those men already capable of getting laid with one girl at a time. The other option is to be totally candid with women and tell them they will be infrequent sexual flings, and nothing more. Vanishingly few women will agree to such an arrangement, no matter how much alpha indifference you project.

Generally, high T women — think tomboys, lawyers, Irish maids, strippers, cougars and women with leathery skin, small tits, hairy ass cracks or acne — are more amenable to openly acknowledged FB arrangements. Some of these high T women can be attractive enough to boff, and boy can they fuck like lionesses. The only cuddling you’ll be doing is between her beef drapes.

Marshy is right about being an animal. Women love untamed men, because they love having something to bitch about. A bitching-free life is a boring, drama-free life to a woman, and no woman, no matter how grounded, can survive long without the fever for a flavor of a tingle.

[crypto-donation-box]

Soul of a woman was created from cats.

Cats are funny. If you’re around a cat, it won’t deign to give you more than a passing token of affection, usually around dinner time. But if you leave it alone for a couple of days, upon return it will rush up to you, urgently meowing and bumping its head into your leg, starved for affection. It will then curl up in your lap, thankful you are back home, and purr contentedly until a glisten of cat saliva forms on its mouth. Then, once a certain amount of time has passed in your lap, (as determined by whatever cat brain mechanism is at work), the cat will decide it has had its fill of your love and promptly jump off to saunter out of the room with the closest approximation to a haughty look a cat can muster. If you attempt to follow it for more petting, it will harshly meow and maybe even take a swipe at you.

The cat wants your love on its terms. It does not value your affection freely given. It is most loveable when it has been psychologically mindfucked to believe it was on the verge of being abandoned. Just like women.

This inscrutability and natural aloofness perfectly explains the appeal of cats to women, and why they identify so strongly with the hellforged beasts. They see in them reflections of their gender’s psychological traits, and, being cognitively biased to project onto an idealized man that which comprises their own contours of sexual desire, thus anthropomorphize the cat into the alpha male lover they wish was courting them.

I like cats. They’re cute, fluffy stress balls. Give ‘em a squeeze round the middle and feel your stress melt away. But dogs make better pets. Dog owners tend to be earthy and grounded. Cat owners tend to be drama-prone and concerned with image.

[crypto-donation-box]

Some chick has posted (as of last week) a how-to guide for, presumably, cute girls to score free drinks from suckers betas heedless horndogs virginal aspies men. (Ugly girls have to buy men drinks to get any attention.) It is reposted here with accompanying Chateau editorial comment. Men need to know how to identify these mooches and turn the tables on them.

It’s hard to fault these unscrupulous whores for taking advantage of willing dupes. You’d do the same if you were a hot chick in her prime surrounded by buffoons. So it is in your interest to know the enemy and her tactics, and to surprise her with your deft defiance of her expectations.

Scoring free drinks is easier than you think. Give these fail-proof ways a try, and enjoy night after night of free drinking. Just remember, picking the right guy is crucial. You can’t go for a guy who is there with his girlfriend.

It’s not that uncommon to see beta herbs buy drinks for all his girlfriend’s bitchy friends, and even occasionally female interlopers. That’s how HHHwhipped and fearful they are. (Fear is the path to the beta side. Fear leads to sycophancy. Sycophancy leads to abasement. Abasement leads to grinding dry spells.) So she shouldn’t rule out taken men.

Pick a guy who is chilling near the bar. You can always count on “bros” because their frat bothers will usually be there cheering them on to get chicks.

Nice. But times are changing. If these frat brothers had any sense they would mercilessly mock their bro for buying a drink for a girl he’s not banging. Are we seeing more of that kind of very special in-field bro tutelage? General impression: yes. But still a long way to go.

1. Use intense eye contact. (The most obvious and most important) As soon as you walk in, start by making seductive eye contact with the bouncer to get started. The bouncers are friends with the bartenders, so this can help for next time. Sit by the bar, and look around until you make eye contact with a cute guy who catches your glance. Soon enough, he’ll come over to you, and get you a drink.

She’d do better making eye contact with ugly guys. They would be more grateful for the female attention and thus more amenable to getting thieved. “Cute guys” (and it’s a loose term that when used by women usually translates to “alpha guy who looks more cute than he really is because he behaves in a way that presses all my limbic buttons”) are likely to have more experience with women and their wiles, and won’t be as easy to manipulate with these crassly novice female ploys.

2. Look hot, but innocent. You know the drill. Show off your best features in a sexy outfit and work your stuff. Sadly, batting your eyelashes and flipping your hair still works as well as it did when your Mom was in college. Don’t forget the cleavage.

Any man who has an ounce of pride and self-control (a male trait which is very attractive to women, btw) can stare at a bodacious rack all night without feeling a compulsion to open his wallet and buy drinks for the biological package scaffolding the tits. If you are a man who can’t manage to pass this banal free drink shit test, you need to go back to day one and read through this entire blog. Sadly, you may be a lost cause.

3. If a guy opens up a tab next to you and only orders one drink, casually say, “Isn’t there a $10 minimum?”He knows he’s going to have to spend the money anyways, so he might as well buy you a drink, and possibly get your number.

Her post is interesting for a glimpse into the sheer number of shit test permutations that women can wield. If you get this line, acceptable shit-test busting answers are: “Are you the IRS?”, “I found a loophole”, “You’re right. Can you cover me?”, “That’s what she said”.

4. You’re dancing with a guy on the dance floor and he has a drink in his hand. You say, “What are you drinking?” while casually taking the drink from his hands and taking a sip. Keep dancing and then walk away. He won’t have the balls to ask for it back.

Any girl who grabs for my drink like a spoiled child is going to get disciplined like one. Viable answers: “Pussy juice”, “Dunno. A chick bought it for me”, “Shirley Temple”, “Gasoline”. If she manages to get her hand on your glass, push it away and ask her if her parents raised her to be a grub.

5. Go up to the bartender, point to some random guy, and say, “That guy over there spilled my drink.” Then give him puppy eyes and “remind” him of what drink you had. He’s going to make you a new one.

Do bartenders really fall for this? They tend to be a savvy lot, so it’s doubtful many girls get away with this. Anyhow, this is a risky move for a girl at her regular bar. If the bartender calls her out on her lie, she could be kicked out.

6. Befriend an older man at the bar. Um, hello… old fashioned manners. He’ll have to offer. And you will graciously accept.

Older men are wising up to this as well. Game knows no age limit. But as a personal observation, it seems younger men are more prone to fall for the free drink ruse. Horniness tends to cloud judgement.

7.  You’re sitting down and mingling with a friend, and a guy comes and talks to you. You smile, and say, “Aren’t you going to buy me a drink before you start hitting on me?” He will take this as flirting and will  always agree.

Another permutation of the same old same old shit test. Good answers: “I don’t buy drinks for strangers”, “I didn’t know I was planning on hitting on you” (very subtle neg), “That’s small potatoes. Ill give you a thousand to hit on you for a week.”

The idea is to undermine her free drink angling with the insinuation that she’s not far removed from a common street whore, without coming right out and saying it.

8.  If you have already flirted with the bartender, and he’s already made you a drink, you can try this. After you’ve finished the drink and he’s pouring a drink for someone else, flirtatiously tilt your glass and say, “You know where to put the extra.” If he doesn’t do it right away, give him a few minutes and he will.

Again this is horrible. Any bartender who falls for this is not worth his mixology license or his badboy tattoos. Good answer if she’s a bitch: “On your head?”. Good answer if she’s slightly less than a bitch: “In her glass?”, while pointing at a cuter chick.

9.  FLIRT. Never forget what using your mojo can get you. Talk to a guy for 5 minutes. It’s surprising how little it takes. If he’s looking for some action, he’s going to ask you if you want a drink.

Remember the fundamental law of gender relations: The road to victory is through penis in vagina. Flirting should lead to it, or it’s nothing but ego stroking for attention whores. And as any man who’s lived a day knows, buying drinks for girls is counterproductive to the goal of getting laid. No woman in the world has slept with a guy because he bought her a drink, unless he had compensating alpha factors that nullified the betaness of buying the drink.

10. At midnight, when your buzz is getting low, order yourself a glass of water at the bar, while staring at a guy drinking next to you. Lean in, and wait for the guy to say, “Is that all you’re drinking? You’ll say, “Yeah, but a vodka sprite sounds better.”He will order it for you.

A lot of these grrlpower tips rely upon abject betas setting the traps for themselves. If you have a lick of dignity and a smidgen of understanding about women’s sexual processes, you won’t be asking a girl if “that’s all you’re drinking?”.

11. Tap a guy on the shoulder who is ordering a drink.  Say “how about you order me a drink, and I’ll leave the tip?” He’s not going to make you leave the tip.

Good answer if you just want to have a laugh at her expense: “How about we screw, and I’ll leave the tip?”

Good answer if you prefer the more understated approach that explores the possibility of a pickup: “The bartender’s my friend, so you’d better be ready to leave a twenty”.

12.  Pretend it’s your birthday. If you’re really going for it, wear a crown.  You will probably get a drink “on the house” from the bartender or a guy you talk to will offer.

Never buy drinks for girls. That rule goes double for girls in birthday or bachelorette parties. Or you could put her on the spot and ask what gifts she got for her birthday. It’s fun to watch predatory girls squirm.

13.  Sit down by the bar and take on a bet that you know you will win. After a few minutes of conversation, switch to the subject you want to bet on. Then you can make the bet. Winner buys the drink. Ask him a guy question that a “man” would think he knows the answer to like a question about the 1991 Super bowl. He’s not going to know that you have planned the question.  And you’re talking to him, so he’s not going to care.

The way to counter this tactic is to offer a “best out of five” suggestion. Example: “How about we do best out of five, but I get to ask the last question.” Few girls know much about the hobbies of men. Ask her a question about tube amps or Call of Duty.

It’s not hard to get free drinks; guys just can’t help themselves (the poor schmucks).  Try these techniques, strut your stuff, and you’ll be set. Don’t feel bad; they want to talk to you. And hey, maybe you’ll end up going for them.

The irony in her tricks for getting free drinks from suckers lies in the fact that, although presented as a way to make a possible love connection, free drink buying will actually spoil a woman’s budding attraction for a man. Buy her a drink and you will go home the celibate monk you arrived as. But pass her shit test and don’t buy her a drink, and her eyes will sparkle with growing attraction for your demonstrated alphaness.

No, literally, they will sparkle. It’s weird.

[crypto-donation-box]

Game And Life Trajectory

Game is, above all, about options. It is a toolkit and a psychological mindset that increases the number and quality of women available to you, and strengthens the attachment that women feel toward you. For the keepers of the societal cog assembly line, this is very bad news indeed, because men with options are men willing and able to put off or even entirely forego marriage and kids.

Options = Instability

For the typical man, game is probably the most powerful weapon in his arsenal of seduction that he has at his disposal. Few lifestyle changes can expand the pool of available and willing women as definitively as a concerted effort to learn game. A sudden infusion of wealth or fame, or a miracle of plastic surgery for the uglier men, would have a greater immediate impact than game, but for most men most of the time for whom fame and wealth are out of reach or would require decades of hard work to achieve, nothing gives a bigger bang for the bang than game.

This increase in sexual market leverage does come with a cost, depending on your philosophical view of the inherent tension between individual aggrandizement and societal well-being. As new vistas of poon open wide to the man who accepts the carnal word of game into his life, the context for the choices he makes and the big stages of life he is expected — worse, obligated and duty-bound according to some whiny women — to navigate are irrevocably altered. He no longer feels the pressure to accede to custom, to accept his lot like a good provider beta gear in the machine, or to join the herd of those corralled in claustrophobic pens of restricted options.

Such a man who possesses facility with attracting the opposite sex subconsciously regards his girlfriend (or girlfriends) with a utilitarian eye. He knows that should something go wrong, should she grow — heaven forfend! — bored with him, or he with her, he can find a replacement woman of equal or better quality with a few weeks effort. This self-awareness of his options, based in the reality of his experience, colors every choice he makes. And, more importantly, it instills in him a discreet take-it-or-leave-it demeanor that is unmistakeable, and unmistakably alluring, to women. It is the attitude of sex panther.

The man with options often decides, with justification, to say fuck it to marriage and all that soul-sucking suburban indentured servitude. Thus, knowledge of game and the larger selection of women it offers to the practitioner play a substantial role in the direction his life takes.

Reader Rum comments:

Getting a good grasp of game DOES disrupt the (supposedly) normal progression of life events. Indeed, it makes it dramatically more likely that you at 47 will get lascivious attention from “in-appropriately young” women. But, the thing is, with ordinary luck, you will be getting the same kind of vibes from that same chicks mother. (Its weird the way they smell the same).

So you will have to make a definite choice. Choose without thinking too much. Then pretend the mom thing never really happened. It might work.

This is no doubt true, as any man who has reaped the benefits of game will tell you. The socially-approved timetable of life stages is simply wiped clean, conventional expectations are brought to heel, and the horizon of choice pussy extends along every compass point.

The normal, 21st century progression of life events for the average beta bear who knows nothing of game looks like this:

– hit puberty
– masturbate for ten years
– attend sex ratio-skewed college full of slutty women and get lucky once or twice, despite social awkwardness
– enlist in cubicle farm, ogle sexy co-workers at sexual harassment seminar
– manage to land a 4 or 5 girlfriend through drunken social circle
– date her for two years until she dumps him
– drown sorrows for one full year torturing self with repeated viewings of ex’s Facebook relationship status updates, (“Currently in a harem!”), including make-out pics with new biker boyfriend
– meet an “amazing” 5.5 chubby girl with “more to love”
– propose 1.2 years later
– get married, have kids
– watch as his soul drains away from enforced monogamy and ingrate spawn
– surprise divorcebuttsecks!
– pay half for the lingerie ex-wife buys to titillate her new succession of fly-by-night lovers
– contemplate killing self
– work self to bone for a corporate behemoth’s bottom line
– after ten years being single and paying alimony, meet a 45 year old divorcée lawyer with saggy tits and flat ass
– “court” her, or a reasonable facsimile thereof
– suffer the indignity of pretending to enjoy kissing her as her hot daughter traipses around the house in short shorts
– live out waning days accompanying hag second wife to arts and crafts boutiques
– get sent to nursing home by “compassionate” children for sweet deliverance from the prison of wrecked flesh that holds the last vestige of his faintly man-like soul

Ok, now here’s the 21st century progression of life events for the man who knows game and uses it to successfully meet women:

– hit puberty. If a born natural, begin fucking “underage” (it’s all relative) high school girls. If not a born natural, learn from naturals, mimic them, and discover the crimson arts
– have a sweet sixteen girlfriend (or two) he will never forget, and who he will always compare, usually favorably, to future lovers, to keep those future lovers off any pedestals he may be inspired to erect in their names
– fuck like a rabbit in college if early start. Otherwise, fuck like a rabbit for the next twenty years after college
– somewhere along that timeline, meet a great girl who he rationally tells himself would make a good wife
– reminds himself that marriage is an irrational choice. Then reminds himself that he loves flirting with the cashier at the supermarket, and he marvels how easy it would be to snag her number
– laughs to himself at thought of proposing. (“Bended knee, my ass!”)
– good girl dumps him for wasting her prime years. In his sorrow, he responds by traveling and banging a couple of international hotties
– his divorced and financially raped male friends glom onto him. His harried married male friends secretly envy him
– work is just another word for lifestyle enabler
– spend waning years dating relatively younger and younger women, watching the age gap widen and his married chump friends waking up to the realization that they are shackled by law to wrinkly old bags
– society hates him. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t give a shit
– die post-coitus from a heart attack. Leave the world alone to enter a void of nothingness, no different than all those married schlubs who toiled for years to nurture and raise a legacy of strippers and delinquents

Any questions?

Oh, yeah, there is one question I have. I understand the Chateau has been mentioned as an outpost of loathsome, bowel-shaking truth in Kay Hymowitz’s new book Manning Up. Dearest Kay, please tell the Chateau readership…

What exactly does marriage offer to guys like us who have the tools to meet, fuck and love women?

It’s not like marriage by its very nature isn’t a raw deal for men. Even the supposed health benefits of marriage for men are a lie. Assuming the law was fair and not the man-hating femcunt swamp of legalistic ass-rogering that it is today, marriage would still be a bigger sacrifice for men than it is for women, simply because men are more naturally promiscuous than women and thus have more to lose by cuffing themselves to a legally enforced institution of monogamy. But now throw in the divorce industrial complex, the house, the kids, alimony, a washed up pussy distended from riding the cock carousel during her lean years and all the rest and that just makes the case against marriage even more airtight than it was before.

PS: Any appeals to nobility or honor will not count as a valid answer. Instead, they will be seen for what they are: a flagrant, flailing attempt to shame men into making choices that further feminists’ interests while undermining men’s interests.

[crypto-donation-box]

Emotional Pornography

Occasionally even a feminist manages a swiping glance at the truth. Naomi Wolf has a track record of immersing herself in a stinking pile of pretty lies, but her contention that widespread porn availability numbs men to the pleasures of “real women”* might have some merit.

(*Translating from the femcuntspeak, “real women” = aging, slovenly lardasses.)

A whole generation (or two) of men has grown up watching hot chicks have sex on the internet. Most of the girls in porn are better looking than the average fat American woman who couldn’t throw her cankles behind her ears if she tried. It’s not a stretch to think that such mass wanking to the top 10% in tight female bodies desensitizes men to sex with the rapidly dumpifying plain janes they meet in real life. Result: more pump and dumps as men feel less incentive to invest in these entitled shambling mounds.

So a reasonable argument could be made that hardcore porn has raised men’s expectations beyond practicality. Or that it has sated their desire to the point that men lack the motivation to aggressively pursue real life shit-testing women.

Ah, but as with so many theories propounded by feminists and family values conservatives, they utterly neglect to mention the role of female hypergamy and the effect that hypergamy has on women’s choices in the dating market. Remember the fundamental law of the sexual market: As the gatekeepers to sex, women get the men they deserve. If women are rewarding assholes and players with sex, then assholes and players are what men will emulate.

But thankfully the world is blessed with the wit and wisdom — and the sadism to tell it like it is — of the Chateau. So you come here for the full truth, because you think you can handle it. And the truth is that modern women have been gluttonously absorbing their own version of expectation-raising and niceguy-desensitizing porn…

Emotional pornography.

A commenter writes:

Women do have problems with false expectations of romance. Emotional pornography has really screwed with their heads.

Think Lifetime channel movies.

Bingo. Biologically, women don’t get off on visual porn the way men do. But that doesn’t mean they don’t have their own outlets for electrifying the beaver, or that they don’t avail themselves of these female-centric outlets with the same gusto that men do of theirs.

Let’s get right to it. Women masturbate to words. To stories. Stories as told in movies, books and TV. These stories share common themes, often featuring the hard-to-get, aloof alpha male preselected by tons of attractive women, and the maladroit beta male to play the foil. The alpha male in women’s fantasies is outsized. His kind exists in extraordinarily tiny numbers in the real world. Which makes his grudgingly surrendered love that much the sweeter.

Do not for a minute think men’s visual porn and women’s emotional porn aren’t comparable. They are exactly the same in purpose, and in function. Men jack off to YouPorn and women jack off to daydreams of Edward Cullen or Dr. McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy. One inconsequential difference is that men’s jacking off is typically more physical in nature, with an unmistakeable denouement in ejaculation. Women, having a baseline hormonal horniness somewhat below that of men and being not quite as groin focused in their sexuality, express their jacking off in wistful, emotional mental journeys that occasionally culminate in vulval self-administration under the bedsheets late at night.

The end result of all this jacking off to ideal virtual lovers is the same for women and men: raised expectations and disappointment with the real life alternatives.

As most men are game-less herbs and provider betas, the explosion of emotional porn for women has indirectly caused the betas’ dating market value to drop, in the same way that YouPorn has caused the dating market value of average-looking, out of shape women to drop. The drop isn’t precipitous, because for most people bland but real sex still beats exciting but virtual sex. But the drop is enough to make a difference in the zeitgeist of the mating market, as well as within the quasi-confines of marriage.

Naomi Wolf and Kay Hymowitz think they get a free pass to shame men for watching porn to the detriment of relationships with real women. *cracks knuckles* Here’s a roll call of the leading outlets of emotional porn numbing our nation’s women to sex and relationships with real, normal, niceguys:

Grey’s Anatomy
Gossip Girl
The Bachelorette
Desperate Housewives
Sex and the City
Anything on Lifetime Channel or WeTV
Pretty much everything on the major networks in primetime
Any big studio rom-com
Twilight (books and movies)
Any and all pulp romance novels
Academy awards shows
Tabloids
The entirety of the insipid celebrity culture

American women, it’s time for you to woman up. Put down the celebrity rags and stop diddling the bean to the latest news about Jake Gyllenhaal’s love life. The future of your country rests on bringing your unrealistic ballooning expectations back down to earth, in line with what your flabby bodies, unfeminine personalities, galling sluttiness and crow’s feet actually offers men.

[crypto-donation-box]

Egypt

Let’s get this straight. The Egyptian people power revolution will likely usher in a government run by antediluvian Islamists.

And exporting democracy to every corner of the globe is a good thing… why, again?

Related: Then-and-now photos tell the tale. Female graduates of Cairo University in 1959 wear modern, Western-style dress. In 2004, they are wearing the hijab. Only a fool, or a liberal, contends progress is always forward. This century is going to be one of a return to religion, nationalism and tribalism. Human nature can be suppressed for only so long.

[crypto-donation-box]

Submitted for your edification. walawala writes:

I was chatting with a girl on an online website.

At some point, she says “You’re just not my cup of tea…”

I pause….

Then I replied…

Me: “Glad you said that…”

Her: “Why?”

Me: “I just saw your age, 35, actually I’m looking for someone younger, good luck”.

Her: Where you from?

Me: Sorry, I generally don’t chat with women over 29.

Her: Maybe if I knew you better

Me: silence…

End of conversation….

Flip the switch.

A few simple sentences is all it takes to psychologically move a woman from rejection (“you’re not my cup of tea”) to blossoming attraction (“maybe if I knew you better”). The power of game should never be underestimated.

Notice how walawala preps the woman for his reframe. He doesn’t immediately jump into the soulkilling age disqualification. He softens it first by saying “glad you said that”. This is a neurolinguistic trick that works by the effect of demonstrating composed indifference in the face of an ego assault, and by implicitly flattering the woman’s perspicacity, thus making her more receptive to the ensuing disqualification.

Well played, walawala.

[crypto-donation-box]

The Creativity Stagnation

Jason Malloy, one of the more perceptive presences on the web, had this to say about creativity in the comments section at The Inductivist:

There are two different kinds of creativity … or rather there are two distinctive wells of creativity.

The first well is simply an extension of general intelligence. Smarter people can make more interesting and complex connections. They also have lower time preference which permits gradual elaboration of their raw creative abilities through craft.

The second (and probably more vital) well is an extension of male sexual drive, and should be thought of as “insight” or extemporaneous creativity. It is hormonally mediated which explains why men are more creatively accomplished than women, and, more importantly, why male creative accomplishment occurs primarily when men are in their 20s and then declines with age. Female creative accomplishment does not show this aging pattern because females are drawing from the former well of creativity but not the latter.

East Asians have plenty of the former kind of creativity but are deficient in the latter because they are biologically calibrated for low male mating effort. Blacks are the opposite. They have high extemporaneous creativity because they are calibrated for high mating effort.

This vital creativity has declined over time as men have become biologically pacified (e.g. the dramatic centuries-long decline in violence — violence being another extension of male mating effort). Most recently Millennials are both less violent and less creative than previous generations.

So contrary to received concerns, I believe creative stagnation should be viewed as a symptom of civilizational progress.

The racial angle is very interesting here, and comports with what I observe in daily life. Also, I have noticed when I’m oversexed by a girlfriend’s insatiable appetite (yes, it is possible to be oversexed), I start to feel claustrophobic and mentally lethargic. I feel a pressing need to get away so that my creativity batteries can be recharged. Maybe this is why I deny women the closure of marriage and kids — I know what it means for my free man’s soul.

Next question: Does ethnic and racial diversity increase or decrease creativity? I suspect, contrary to received wisdom, that diversity above a certain minimum threshold decreases creative output. America clearly was more creative when it was 85-90% white.

So… safe dullness or violent creativity? Pick one or the other. Safe dullness is the end game of a feminized society, while violent creativity is the hallmark of a masculinized society. Perhaps there is a balance to be struck between the two, but today we are clearly too far over into the malaise and soul-suckery of feminization. The Chateau will do its part to correct this historical transgression.

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