Where pretty lies perish.
Jan 21st, 2010 by CH
So a Republican won Dead Ted’s royal Democrat Senate seat in Massachusetts. More blessed magical karmic justice there could not be.
(Sung to the tune of ‘Singing in the Rain’)
I’m piiiiiissing on Ted’s grave
just piiiiissing on Ted’s grave
What a glorious feelin’
I’m defiling his name
Let the DNC chase
everyone from the grave
Come on with the pee
I’m urinating freely
aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh…………….
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 21st, 2010 by CH
Reading the funny articles about Tiger Woods’ romp through a battalion of trashy, deluded babes who thought they would be the next Mrs. Woods, I noticed a theme emerge.
David Smallwood, who has treated a host of celebrities at north London’s Priory clinic, said: “He displays a number of the pointers such as seeking highs from outdoor sex and having many mistresses.
“I would implore him to get help. But I see him as ill, not bad.”
***
“People who have affairs typically do so because something is lacking,” says psychotherapist Stacy Kaiser. “You can be the world’s best golfer, role model and endorsement spokesman and still not feel good inside.”
When that happens, she says, a man tends to “fill that hole with women as a distraction and an escape.”
The opinion of the experts and sexperts is in: If you are a man who is able to satisfy his natural sexual inclination for a variety of women, you have a problem. A big problem, my friend, and you should seek therapy right away to cure yourself of your affliction.
As a valiant avatar of the ugly truths, I’m here to tell the collected wisdom of the armies of psychotherapists swinging their degrees like battle axes: Tiger Woods does not have a problem. What he has is a male sex drive, and a willingness to fulfull it. In so doing, he makes you confront your worst fears about the base instincts of humanity unleashed in glorious wanton hedonism. You shirk not because of what Tiger does, but because you tremble before your fear of what most men would do given the opportunities available to a man with Woods’ high social and material status.
Tiger Woods may not be a model citizen, but neither does he have an emotional or psychological problem. He’s just a man with a strong sex drive who got bored with the same old pussy day in and day out and decided to spice it up with a willing brigade of slutty concubines all too ready to dismiss their own feelings of complicity in the sordid arrangements that will now cost Woods hundreds of millions of dollars. If Woods has a problem, it’s that he got married. Big mistake, chief.
How many typical married men would act like Woods if suddenly blessed with his fame and fortune? Imbue 100 Joe Sixpacks with Woods’ high status, and 99 would run roughshod on their marital vows. Over and over. Gleefully. Guiltlessly. Until they got caught.
I would ask the experts in the human condition: Do Woods’ mistresses have a problem that must be addressed by months of therapy? If not, why not? Aren’t they just as happily and guiltlessly following their own biomechanical directive in hypergamously hooking up with a wealthy uber alpha who happens to be married? How many typical housewives would act like Woods’ skank parade if suddenly blessed with Woods’ attention and desire? Impart 100 Jill Saddlebags with Woods’ sexual flirtations, and 99 would run roughshod on their marital vows. Over and over. Guiltlessly. Orgasmically. And even after they got caught, because they know in the event of divorce they are not going to be the ones coming up short.
We live in a culture where today the natural male sex drive is demonized and the natural female sex drive is glorified. It is an interesting shift of the paradigm, and one I suspect is unsustainable for a modern, first world economy that rests on certain implicit assumptions about how its citizens are to comport themselves if the good of the whole is to thrive. (Nevermind my antics; While good for me, I’m not one to bow before the concept of the good of the whole. I’ll just freeride until I wind up in the same place as all those properly behaved subjects of the industrial kingdom.)
The adamantium foundation of core values that buttresses all other values is the sexual market. The constant flux of sexual energy between men and women is the force multiplier that breathes life into cultures, and infuses societies with everything from salsa to skyscrapers. When you fuck with the workings of that origin value you fuck with everything resting on top of it, ten times over. This is why late 20th century feminism has been such a boon for the haters of beauty and a weapon for the bringers of doom. Given the inherent lag effect in any large scale human value shift, I expect the fruit of our current culture of lies to ripen fully within our lifetimes.
As I see it, a culture can grapple with the reality of the sexual market and its consequences in one of four ways:
I. Shame/demonize/medicalize the male sex drive. Condone/laud/glorify the female sex drive.
II. Shame the male sex drive. Shame the female sex drive.
III. Glorify the male sex drive. Shame the female sex drive.
IV. Glorify the male sex drive. Glorify the female sex drive.
2010 America is currently knee deep in paradigm number I. 1950s America, according to our best sources (the ones who lived through it) was operating under cultural condition number II, with nods and winks toward number III. Speaking of number III, this seems to be the arrangement most prevalent in the Arab cultures. Number IV is the historically rarest configuration, and is seen most often in pagan cultures like Scandinavia and underdeveloped tribal nations like the swath across much of subsaharan Africa. Number IV is emergent in either highly anarchic societies or in highly homogenized societies of small, manageable population sizes.
America has chosen number I, which is probably the worst option to choose for a mature economic powerhouse rapidly morphing into a trifurcated multicultural and multiethnic population of immense size. This is the option that will send most men into either withdrawal or violence, and most women into hypergamous overdrive. No modern economy, built as they almost invariably all are on the sweat of men with an eye toward saving and investing in the future, can survive a long bout with a value system resting squarely in number I and constantly propped up by the likes of elite opinion makers and Oprah.
Personally, I live by construct number IV, as it is the value system that most pleases me, and is likeliest to persuade women to shed their inhibitions in my company. A master seducer at the height of his game will be living his life by the precepts of number IV, whether or not he argues for the abolition on a wider scale of the paradigm that so suits him in his personal quests.
My prediction for the future is that number I eventually will yield, softly or cataclysmically, to number II, with a short temporary stint in number IV. Number IV is really the wildcard here. While number I works its magic slowly and insidiously, number IV has the explosive power to radically alter the cultural landscape in a very short period of time, especially in a culture historically insulated from the hedonistic ravages of number IV.
I think it would be funny if our culture were one where male gigolos are forgiven and invited onto talk shows and cheating wives are forced to cough up half their assets and income, lose custody of their children, and be shamed from polite society. Sounds punitive, doesn’t it? Well, that’s what we have today. Just reverse the genders.
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 19th, 2010 by CH
Reader Matt forwarded me the following Craigslist posting:
***
You: Cute girl at the bar.
Me: The guy you chatted with while waiting for our drinks.
The Topic: Why I didn’t buy you a drink.
The Audience: Women everywhere, please read this. I know it’s long, but I feel the length is expedient to truly illustrating and arguing my point.
I was waiting to order right as things were getting crazy. It was obvious that it would be a long wait. What can I say? I can’t compete with all the douches yelling for jager bombs. It was then that you appeared. A cute, petite, slightly hipster-ish girl standing next to me, waiting to order as well. The conversation began in the typical manner, simply relating on how frustrating it is when you spend half a night out just waiting for a drink. It then evolved into a true conversation. I spent the next twenty minutes finding out you have great taste in music, movies and literature. You laughed at my jokes, and that’s a big deal to average-looking guys like me.
Unfortunately, after we’d both finished our respective drinks, but were still immersed in discussion, you dropped a bomb that sent shrapnel into my heart.
“So are you gonna buy me a drink or what?”
I had been dreading this moment. I’ve learned from hard experience that any prolonged conversation with a girl at a club or a bar inevitably requires a fee of rum and coke, vodka tonic, or God forbid, a cosmo. As cute as you were, I felt obligated to retain my self-respect.
“Sorry, I don’t buy girls drinks. Just kind of my policy.”
You looked at me like I told you I was going to rape your dog Charlie (yes, I remember his name). Your face morphed from a beautiful smile into a twisted caricature of shock, revulsion, and utter disbelief.
“Seriously, you’re not gonna buy me a drink? What’s your problem?”
Well sweetheart, let me explain to you in detail my logic regarding this decision that you found so unbelievable:
1. I’ve been going to bars for a couple of years now. I enjoy meeting people when I do. I enjoy meeting attractive girls like yourself. I have, however, learned that buying girls drinks is a sucker’s game. Yes, it has developed into sharing my bed for the night a couple times, but 90% of the time, all it does is give me a higher bar tab. Now you might say I’m a prick for expecting a girl to sleep with me just because I buy her a drink. I agree an $8 cocktail does not and should not equal a sexual encounter. However, I believe spending time and money on a girl when I could be having a good night out with my friends does entitle me at least one of the following things: You reciprocating by buying me a drink, you giving me your phone number and/or going out on a date with me, where once again I will be spending time and money on you. Notice that sex is not a requirement or expectation that is coupled with any of these options. Now, of course, if I had offered to buy you a drink, and you accepted, you are not obligated to any of these things. The big distinction here is that you asked me to buy you a drink, and were shocked that I wouldn’t do so. This brings me to my second point.
2. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re an attractive girl, and when you go out there is no shortage of guys offering to buy you drinks. You know that they are all doing so with the hope that it will lead to sex with you. You know that it’s not going to happen, but you will accept the free drinks anyway. I don’t hold this against you. If they’re dumb enough to think that buying you a drink is the key to your heart and that they are somehow different from the other Ed Hardy-wearing frat-bros then it’s their own damn fault. You’re using your god-given assets to get free alcohol, nothing wrong with that. But it is precisely because I know that you do this that I will not be another douche who thinks he can get into your pants with a mixed drink. It’s insulting to my dignity as a man and your honor as a woman. I noticed you when you first walked in. I saw you dancing with that hopeless collar-popper. I saw him go to the bar and bring a drink back to you on the dancefloor. I saw how the second the glass was in your hand, you gave him the “Thanks for the drink, it was really nice meeting you” treatment complete with the obligatory pat on the chest. I saw the pathetic, defeated look on his face as you walked away. He will enter the next round of bar hopping a little wiser I hope.
3. You took my unwillingness to fall into such a trap as an insult. You accused me of being stuck-up. You then said that I had a chance at fucking you, but that I’d ruined it by being an asshole. What exactly are you trying to tell me? That the asinine idea that getting a girl a drink will get you in her pants is actually true? That your decision of whether or not to sleep with a guy is based on him liquoring you up? We had a good conversation, and maybe you were actually interested in me. But the fact that any rapport we built was destroyed when I wouldn’t buy you a gin and tonic means that I am no longer interested in you. Not all guys are desperate sperm donors. Some of us actually value a good conversation, and we value girls who have enough respect for themselves that they don’t view sex as a transaction.
4. We established during our conversation that we are both broke-ass fine arts students. Why then would you expect that I, someone who shares your financial woes, would want to spend money on you, a girl I just met? I don’t believe that chivalry is dead. I’ll hold a door for you, I’ll pull out your chair or take your coat. I’ll help you change a flat tire, carry you over deep puddles, figure out the remote, reset your modem. I’ll even help you move when I know you a little better. Why? Because I’m a gentleman. I will not, however, buy you a drink under the pretense that it is what a gentleman does, because I simply cannot afford it. If you want a guy who can afford to buy you whatever you want, find a fifty year-old sugar daddy. There was no shortage of potentials at the bar the other night.
I hope this illustrated my thought-process clearly enough. I hope you realize that you seemed amazing at first, and that declining to buy you a drink was in no way an insult. Your reaction, however, revealed the self-entitled, game-playing she-devil that was lurking underneath. I thank god for the out that he provided at that moment though. Just after you finished your little rant on what I dick I was for not boozing you up, a group of girls emerged at the bar right behind you. Two of these girls were thin and pretty. They immediately got the attention of some bros and had free drinks within minutes. The third girl was overweight and out of place. She had clearly spent a great deal of time and effort on her appearance, but alas, she was once again forsaken by her prettier friends and left to stand by herself, looking miserable. Luckily, I know when the universe has given me a profound gift. There were two incredible moments that filled me with an elation that could not be rivaled by the orgasm I would have had while fucking you. The first was the sincere, excited smile that the chubby girl gave me when I moved past you and asked what she wanted to drink. The second was turning back and seeing the look of horror on your face. You pathetic “have fun with the fatty” remark as you walked away was priceless. I may be broke, but I was willing to go into the red to make this girl’s night and to piss you off. I’m sure as soon as you left you got plenty of free drinks and plenty of idiots drooling over you. I just hope that I got under your skin enough to prevent any enjoyment of those things.
I had a great night. I introduced the big girl to an open-minded friend, and as I write this they are across the hall having loud sex. Normally going to bed alone, subjected to the sounds of raucous lovemaking across the hall would be a serious downer. But tonight, as I crawl into my lonely bed, I will go to sleep comforted by the fact that I have retained my self-respect. Having encountered more than a few spoiled bimbos, I infer that sex with you would have consisted of you lying on your back expecting me to be so grateful that I’m seeing your “hot” naked bod makes up for the fact that you are putting absolutely no effort into this sexual experience. This may just be me trying to justify going to bed alone tonight, but hey, what can you do?
The moral: Ladies, accept drinks if they are offered. Do not expect them. And if you’re feeling particularly wild on a given night, offer to buy the guy a drink. He will be instantly smitten.
***
I applaud this man for sticking to his principles. There is no doubt now about the uselessness of buying girls you haven’t yet slept with *anything* at all, let alone drinks. The knowledge is out there, and only a very foolish or deluded man would ignore this sage advice.
A few things to note about the drink-buying problem:
1. Look at it as a shit test. If a girl is asking you to buy her a drink she is hoping to get you to reveal your inner beta and thus make her job of deciding whether to sleep with you much easier. Girls are designed by Mother Gaia to root out a man’s hidden beta as quickly as possible so that they may then move on to locating and banging genuine alpha males. After all, to a woman, time is the enemy. Those burgeoning wrinkles don’t wait for anyone.
2. If your game is good enough, you can afford to buy a girl a drink without incurring a sexual cost. I have occasionally bought girls drinks when I knew they were already attracted to me. This is personal preference, and dependent upon how likely you think a few drinks will loosen her up for sex that same night.
3. Even if you are rich and an $8 drink does not bother you, in general practice you should refrain from throwing your money around on free drinks for inquisitive women. One, it does not get you any closer to your goal (in fact, it probably pulls you farther away), and two, it poisons the pussy well for future men when the self-entitled princess you just created with your freewheeling spending lives her days out expecting free drinks from every other man she meets. If you are filthy rich, then go ahead and buy her an island and forget about learning game… until she hires Antonio the poolboy.
4. If a girl you just met is bold enough to ask you “So are you gonna buy me a drink or what?”, it means she is not attracted to you and does not respect you as a man. A woman who is attracted in a sexual way to you will also have feelings of respect for you. She will not risk blowing up the rapport and possible future dates by uttering a clumsy, socially retarded question like that.
The man in the above story answered the girl in an effective manner. He was straightforward and lacking in any anger. His fortuitous followup with the fat chick was also a nice touch, though it would have been better for him had he done the same thing with a hotter girl. That way, he could have humiliated the first girl while giving himself a shot at scoring with an even hotter chick. The problem with using a fat chick as a drink-buying prop is that you then have to deal with entertaining her because she thinks you like her. Notice how our intrepid hero wrote that he quickly introduced the fat girl to an “open-minded friend”. I know he was trying to make a valiant reframe in the off chance that the first girl would read his CL posting, but let’s face it, open-mindedness is not the air traffic controller for the boner. To fat chicks everywhere: If you are banging a man who is seemingly out of your league, it’s not because he’s open-minded, it’s because he’s scared to shoot for better looking girls. Or he’s slumming it until something better comes along. Those last ten dates were indoors, out of the public eye, correct?
One other thing. If a girl for whom you refuse to buy a drink says to you “You had a chance at fucking me, but you ruined it by being an asshole” a good response is “Who said you had a chance with me?” Another good one: “Are you the lotto?”
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 18th, 2010 by CH
Scene: You’re at a bar with your girlfriend and one of her female friends. It’s just past dusk and the crowd is small. Your girlfriend is animatedly talking with her friend while you are holding court with some cute girl sitting across the bar, shouting jokes back and forth at each other and with the bartender. You are mentally and groinally stimulated by the sight of the new girl and the fleeting thoughts that pollute your brain of seeing her naked. An hour later, the new girl walks over and sits right beside you on an adjacent bar stool, on the side of you that is facing away from your girlfriend and her friend. The new girl leans into your ear and quietly asks if the girl you came with is your girlfriend. You are able to answer her out of earshot of your girlfriend.
Which of the following answers is most likely to earn the respect of the new girl?
a. “Yes, she is my girlfriend.” Firmly said.
b. “No, she’s not my girlfriend.” A lie, but still firmly said.
c. “Um, yeah sorta, we’ve been dating. Not sure how serious it is.” You hesitate for a pregnant second before answering somewhat sheepishly, hoping that your diffidence will leave the door open for further pursuit and possible hooking up with the new girl.
Second question. Which of the above answers is most likely to earn the gina tingle of the new girl?
First, the answer to the second question is the same as the answer to the first question. A woman’s respect is identical to her sexuality, for a woman will feel no lust for a man she does not respect, and she will feel no respect, in anything but the most abstractly and pointlessly arid way, for a man she does not desire.
Even if (c) is the closest answer to the truth, it is the farthest answer from what you think will help you fulfill your goal. If it is clandestine banging with fresh meat* you want, you will have more success answering (a) or (b) than you would equivocating your way through answer (c). For it is not the truth value of a statement that alerts a woman’s nether furrow that she is in the company of a man with an RSVP to her womb, but rather the boldness with which the statement is delivered.
The above sounds counterintuitive to some of you. I know, because for the longest while, it did to me. How can telling an interested and curious new girl that your company is your lover move you any closer to a tryst than hinting to her that your company knows you in a complicated way but you are essentially open to cheating?
Maxim #856: Swear by the HipandCooter oath: First, use no logic.
Please set aside your woefully inadequate male logic when attempting to predict the direction of a woman’s rationalization hamster. That little critter will always razzle dazzle your feeble efforts. You must think like the hamster if you want to influence the hamster. Be the hamster. The wheel is waiting.
Let’s examine each answer in detail.
a. “Yes, she is my girlfriend.”
Don’t for a minute think this closes the door to a future rendezvous. Since when have proclamations of fidelity by an alpha male, on their own, ever stopped a woman from pursuing her desire for him? No, the man himself, by his actions, must stay her hand and steady her flirtations. See: Tiger Woods. A man must, in other words, direct and lead not only his own actions, but the actions of the women in his orbit. A simple declaration that he has a girlfriend, curt and perfunctory, will only fuel a woman’s desire for him if his words are belied by his seductively charming warm smile and teasing banter. As all good seducers know, such unspoken mixed signals are the match to a woman’s tinderbox. Hypocrisy is the tribute vice pays to virtue, and rationalization is the tribute guilty ginas pay to alpha cock.
b. “No, she’s not my girlfriend.”
Girls don’t like men who lie. Except when they do like them. Moral of the story? Don’t worry so much about not lying. Concern yourself first with winning a woman’s attraction. She’ll rationalize away the lies in the post-coital glow. If, after you have lied, you are later caught snuggling with your girlfriend in the bar, you have just upped your chances of bedding the inquisitive new girl.
c. “Um, yeah sorta, we’ve been dating. Not sure how serious it is.”
And here we arrive at the most beta answer. What you think she hears: “Hey, I’m dating someone super casual-like but I’m not sure she’s ‘the one’. Which means I’m totally available for dating you.” Sounds like a winning answer, eh Lothario? What she actually hears: “I’m a wishy-washy beta who’s dating a girl out of convenience and I’m hoping you could be the next girl I date out of convenience.”
It is said of blind patriots that they follow “my country, right or wrong.” Well, for women, it’s “my alpha, right or wrong.” And what is a defining characteristic of alphaness? Boldness. Women love bold men, right or wrong. Women hate squirrelly men, like a man who would hesitate before weakly and apologetically confirming that the girl sitting right next to him is indeed his girlfriend. Boldness does not necessarily mean abandoning those other alpha traits that women so love, such as sly ambiguity and evocative mystery. But it does mean making sure you are never caught with the cat firmly holding your tongue.
*Diablo reference.
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 14th, 2010 by CH
The twelve ignominious betas for each month of 2009 have been declared by popular vote and now it is time for you, the readers, to vote for a final winner from among those twelve for the Beta of the Year contest. Consider carefully the candidates below before casting your vote for the one man to mewl them all, because the 2009 BOTY will represent in one ingloriously distilled beta everything that is most loathsome about the current configuration of modern man — the white knighters, the wool pullers, the self-deluding, the pedestalers, the manginas, the herbs, the nancyboys, the castrati, the party line platitudinizers, the phony equalists, and the oneitis chumps. He will serve as a warning to other men and a valuable lesson for boys on their way into manhood, and through his example will guide them away from the path of self-immolation and into the light of the truth about not only the nature of women, but the nature of their own behavior in the company of women. Not to mention, the BOTY is a handy touchstone for future scholars searching for reasons why the West fell into ruin so suddenly and catastrophically.
If you want to read the individual stories behind each of the BOTM winners, just click on the “Beta of the Year Contest” link under the “Select Category” pull-down menu in the righthand column.
I’ve included the names of the readers who submitted the winning BOTMs in parentheses in the voting choices. The winning submission for 2009 BOTY will be announced in the coming days.
On to the final vote:
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 13th, 2010 by CH
The final candidate of 2009! Tomorrow we reveal the contest for the Beta of the Year.
Last month’s winner, by a healthy margin, was a cuckold who asked his cheating girlfriend on a call-in radio program how he could “make her love him more”. She told him, in essence, to grow a pair, but he proved unable to escape his beta hell vortex. Congratulations to reader Patrick for submitting that vomitous entry.
December coughed up a bumper crop of holiday betas. Must be those long winter nights.
***
December 2009 BOTM Candidate #1 was submitted by reader Marko. Fittingly for the times, our featured beta is the cuckold of one of Tiger Woods’ many mistresses. What astounds about this man was how willfully blind he was when his girlfriend informed him that Tiger had given her his number. Just how little does a woman have to respect a man to decide it’s perfectly harmless to tell him a really famous billionaire jock gave her his number? She probably figured he was such a rabid fan of Mr. Woods’ talent for driving to the hole that he wouldn’t put two and two together. She was right.
Derek, 28, a golf fan who used to idolise Woods, said: “I was a massive Tiger fan. I had Tiger Woods memorabilia all over my house and even collected Tiger Woods videos.
“On the night Jamie met him for the first time, I had just bought the new Tiger Woods computer game. The following morning she told me she had met Tiger Woods and he gave her his number – and like an idiot I got really excited about it.
“I even asked her if she could call him so I could get my computer game signed.
“I knew Tiger had come on to her and asked for her number. I knew that he called her whenever he came to Las Vegas.
But she insisted that nothing was going on.”
Self-delusion is likely an evolved trait in humans, but in some people it seems to have evolved beyond the point of usefulness.
Derek said: “She told me she got called over by a bouncer who said someone important wanted to meet her in the VIP room.
“She said she did not know it was Tiger Woods until she was brought to his table. He immediately started hitting on her and telling her she was beautiful. She told me he asked for her number and gave her his.
“I was surprised because I knew he was married and I didn’t think he was that type of guy. But I trusted Jamie. We had been engaged for over a year then – having first started dating in 2002 – and were head over heels in love.”
The only thing preventing most men from being “that type of guy” is 1. lack of options and 2. violence from aggrieved parties. In modern Western society, number 1 is the primary brake on expressions of pure love. Sure, religion plays some role in curbing the basest instincts of men and women, but the old school hardcore precepts of religion are on the way out, Walmart-ized evangelical fervor notwithstanding to the contrary.
As for the issue of trust, as Reagan so memorably put it, “Trust but verify.” (Commie pinkos and women, more in common than you’d imagine.) I’m no cynic. I bet that Derek and Jamie were head over heels in love when she had her fortuitous encounter with Woods. But, you know, a better deal has a way of putting the vice to virtue.
My favorite quote is the last:
Derek, who is now engaged to another woman, said: “I think Tiger is a great competitor on the golf course, but away from it he is a horrible person.
“He should have more respect for himself and his family. I am certainly not a fan of his any more.”
Now that’s alpha. Tear down that life-sized poster of Tiger Woods, Mister Derek!
What saves this guy from the pit of omegatude is his (putatively) wise decision to cut Jamie out of his life and start fresh with a new woman. Or maybe Jamie dumped him after Derek refused to get cross with her for her philandering? The mind reels at the excruciating possibilities.
On a related note, reader Cannon’s Canon wrote:
derek schmidt definitely got played, but really though, what was his alpha move? i don’t think the party line of amused mastery is gonna cut it against a billionaire athlete that she knows you already jock. the only thing i can think of is deleting the number from her phone yourself with a strongarm move, then initiating two hours of domineering jackhammer sex, perhaps in an unconventional room to drill it into her memory. enough to knock her out of commission for a day or so, numbing those gina tingles. this may also have to become standard fare for a while.
so how do you AMOG tiger woods? start playing fight night instead??
Good points. When the AMOG is light years above you in status, and is in fact someone you practically worship, amused mastery won’t save you. A cocky smirk is not going to keep, let’s say, George Clooney, were he so inclined, from seducing and bedding your loyal girl. My advice for handling this presumably rare scenario, given that you want to run some game on the girl to see if you can turn it around, is to hit her up with a straight shot of the truth:
“Tiger Woods gave you his number last night? Unless proven otherwise, you are a cheater. Here’s the deal. You delete his number and change your phone number so he can never contact you again, or I leave. Before you make your deicsion, let me remind you that should you choose Woods, he will fuck you a few more times then tire of you as he moves onto another concubine in his rotation of regulars. He will never marry you. He will never make you a princess. You will never be more than a whore in his parade of whores. I, on the other hand, once gone am gone for good. I’ll give you fifteen mintues alone to make your deicsion.”
But really, phone number exchange with a celebrity should be instant grounds for dumping a chick. Even if she didn’t cheat with him (unlikely), visions of his celebuface will be dancing in her head every time you two make love.
***
December 2009 BOTM Candidate #2 was submitted by reader Ninja Duck. We’ve had a few stories like this one before, but none were as over the top beta as this guy. Ugly, cheating wife drugs, stabs and slits the throat of peabody puffboy husband, then goes to jail. Annnnnd… wait for it… he still loves her. Is it possible to have standards below zero?
A husband whose wife tried to kill him by slitting his throat after plying him with a sex drug said today he still loved her and wanted her freed from prison.
Peter Hale, 43, spoke out after seeing his wife, Joanne, sentenced to six years’ jail after being found guilty of attempted murder.
Hale, 39, was having an ‘affair’ with a married man when she gave Peter a sex drug called ‘Horny Goat Weed’ and lured him to woodland in Bristol. There she cut his throat and stabbed him in the chest before running off.
There is so much wrong with this article. Check out this quote:
Mr Hale was present in court today and was thanked by the judge for supporting his wife.
Maybe I’m missing some important legal precedent here, but why is the judge thanking Hale for “supporting” his deranged, fugly, homicidal whoring wife? Shouldn’t the judge be admonishing Hale to sack up and stop giving aid and comfort to someone who tried to kill him? To go find himself a better woman instead of white knighting like a chump for a waste of flesh? To stop loving someone who so obviously despises him? I guess I’m just not that enlightened in the emanations and penumbras of society’s progressive jurisprudence.
Or maybe there are too many milquetoast manginas in the legal profession.
After the case, Mr Hale said: ‘I hope that she is out as soon as possible. My evidence was very confused and I hope that we have grounds for an appeal. I still love her very much.
‘I am pleased with the comments of the judge and the sentence is probably the best we could have hoped for.’
The court heard that Hale, who has been in custody for 239 days, had made two attempts on her life since being arrested.
Mr Hale had written numerous letters to the court in which he repeated that the incident was not his wife’s fault and that he was willing to forgive her.
He also said his life without her was terrible and he was still deeply in love with her.
“My evidence was very confused”? It’s worse than I thought. So not only does he continue to love his would-be killer, he is working hard to reduce her sentence so that he can sooner leap into her flabby arms to deliver a comforting hug of forgiveness. I can almost hear his words now, as he struggles to allay her guilt for slitting his throat: “No really, honeybunny, I understand you were under a lot of stress. I wasn’t keeping up my end of the chores, or taking you out on romantic dinners. But that’s all going to change now. And let me just add how beautiful it is the way the moonlight sparkles in your pig-like eyes.”
A number of letters from friends handed to the court said Hale was ‘a kind and caring person who would do anything for anyone’.
There’s your problem right there, buddy.
***
December 2009 BOTM Candidate #3 was submitted by reader Hitbids. Remember my early post about envisioning all your communications with a girl on a giant Jumbotron screen for mass public viewing? The idea is a simple one. If your words of love would elicit cringes from a studio audience, you are probably doing it wrong. If, on the other hand, you would not be embarrassed by a public viewing of your emails or phone convos or text messages with a girl you are trying to bed, you can be assured she is getting turned on. Well, this candidate failed the Jumbotron test spectacularly. It’s long so I won’t quote it here (I can’t seem to copy/paste from that site anyhow), but you can read the whole thing over here. Quaff an antacid before diving in. It’s a text exchange between a recently dumped man and the ex with whom he’s trying to reinitiate sex. I liked the part when he texted her a random message about the weather forecast. Maybe you ladies are unaware, but when a man texts completely random shit about stuff you know he can’t possibly care about, he’s just worming his way onto your attention radar for eventual sex.
Here’s my favorite line from the dude:
Have you felt the need of getting intimate again? Im at that stage where I feel I can do almost anything! I can be between your legs for as long as you want.
How about 50 years? Because, you know, he’s the kind of guy who won’t have anything else going on.
The chick does not go without blame. She strings him along when she could have simply not responded to any of his attempts at contact. Women like to cry victim in these situations, but the truth is that a lot of them love the attention and power tripping they can get from toying with a needy beta. They’re simultaneously repulsed and addicted to the clumsy pursuits of the sex starved man. Regardless of her complicity, he should know better than to feed her ego, so he earns a spot at the BOTM table.
Also note the girl says she gets turned off by emoticons, something I have admonished against as well.
***
The voting:
[crypto-donation-box]
Jan 11th, 2010 by CH
Damian called me for some advice.
Damian: So Mirabelle* [ed: no real names used] cancelled for Friday and said something came up, but she’d be OK with getting together on Sunday. Another girl playing hard to get. Any sage advice Senor StuffAMuff?
Me: You’ve been on one date and you’re already scheduling a weekend night? And she’s younger than you. And cute. She’s got prospects. You’re not going to get anywhere playing Don Juan whispering sweet nothings and amping up the romantic vibe. She’s only got a toe in the water. My advice… Like a fighter jet in a dive, pull back! Don’t try to impress her with your unstoppable silverback pursuit. You’ve gotta play the game my friend. With the especially valuable girls (young, pretty) it’s not enough to refrain from being beta; you must also fill the void with alpha. Breach the touch zone early, then stop touching her for a while. Be unpredictable in your unspoken, and spoken, intentions. Tease her more about “having to wine and dine you first” and how you like to take it slow because you’ve been burned before by girls who wound up having boring personalities. Put her on defense. Your goal is to have her working to impress you, not the other way around.
Damian: Excellent advice, a healthy reminder! Hold on, someone just texted me. [Damian checks his text message while I wait on the line] Whoa, Shana texted me. She wants me to come all the way out to [location X] to meet her and a couple of friends for drinks. More advice Poonmaster Prince!
Me: Isn’t she the sexually repressed woman who might be a virgin? The woman you haven’t banged yet? Let’s break this down. It’s 1 degree outside. It’s late. If you drive all the way out there you wil be doing so for a woman whose sweet nectar you have not yet tasted, and whose nectar may not be forthcoming at all. And to top it off, meeting her with friends so she can feel safe and snuggly in her chastity. Safe from your predations.
Damian: Oh, I wasn’t planning to go. She’s nuts if she thinks I jump like that.
Me: You know what? Call her bluff. Send her a text right now, while I’m on the phone. Tell her in plain, unaffected language that you’re not going to drive out there, and that she should come to your place tonight for drinks before it gets too late.
Damian: [Tapping out his text] Sent! Odds of her coming here are low. This doesn’t solve my horniness. I’ll need to acquire more prospects.
Me: True. But there is beauty in the short term solution as well. Send a booty call text to your ex right now.
Damian: Julie? Haha. A bold move! A booty call? That sounds so cheesy. Does that actually work? I haven’t seen her in months. I can’t imagine any woman responding well to a booty call.
Me: This is because you have the imagination of a man. You are incapable of imagining the wicked wiles that will work on women. Recall, you dumped her. This makes the booty call operational. Had she been the dumper, your booty call would be the plaintive wail of a lonely man on the corner. But since you were the dumper, rest assured she has thought of you in her dreams ever since. Send the text. Do it. Now. No punctuation. No excuses. No explanation. Type “Booty call” and nothing else. Trust me, she still has your alpha male number in her phone. Girls keep alpha numbers of asshole lovers long after their expiration.
Damian: [Typing his text while I wait on the phone. He is giggling like a schoolgirl.] I can’t believe I’m doing this! I feel like I’m starring in a rap video. I wonder if she’ll reply?
Me: I give it 70-30 she does.
Damian: Hold on… haha! She replied! Just like that. Five seconds! She wrote back “You’re funny.”
Me: That’s a yes.
Damian: You think so?
Me: Absolutely. In chicksperanto “that’s funny” translates as “I’m seriously thinking about doing this with you, as long as you don’t say anything to fuck up the rationalization hamster currently running in overdrive in my brain.” If she didn’t want to do it, she wouldn’t have replied so quickly, if at all.
Damian: What should I say to that?
Me: Write back “Yeah, I’m a comedian. Come over tonight, drinks are stirred.”
Damian: Good… OK, done.
Me: She may not come over tonight, but you’ve planted the seed for future booty calls. Water and watch it grow.
Damian: She texted again, hold on… She said she wants to hear my voice on the phone. Wow, it’s working.
Me: Godspeed.
Damian: You truly are the Dark Lord.
Me: And you, my mortal avatar.
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Dec 25th, 2009 by CH
[crypto-donation-box]
Zeets just texted me:
“Of all the women you’ve been with, have any gone on to have kids? Is there a pattern here?”
Thinking back, I don’t know one ex who went on to have kids. Now I haven’t followed the life trajectories of many of them, so I can’t be sure some haven’t popped out sprogs, but I do know that I’ve never once heard or been informed that a woman I’ve been with later had kids. A couple of women already had kids when I met them (weekend flings), but I’m pretty sure my despoliation of them convinced them not to have any further kids.
Patterns, I see them. Questions arise. Is the incorrigible player psychologically drawn to women with low maternal instincts? Does the womanizer target the barren of womb? Or do INDEPENDENT, MAKE MY OWN WAY women who would like to put off kids until after their second fine arts master’s degree in their late 30s naturally gravitate to cads? Or is it just an east coast urban “in heat” island effect?
Much is made of the dueling sexual strategies employed by men — the cad or dad conundrum — and how the ratio fluctuates depending on the larger cultural context, but what is sometimes overlooked is how the choices of women affect men’s mating strategies. A stong biofeedback loop exists in social environs that feature a lot of anti-kid, low maternal instinct women for men who bring status to the table (fame, looks, game) at the expense of resource provisioning ability. In short, the classic provider beta is being locked out of the competition in our bluest blue states and urban pleasure plazas.
My advice to beta males who can’t or won’t learn game is to head for the red states and rural areas. If you’re irreligious, learn to love the lord and sing a few hosannahs in church for the bounty of cornfed pussy that’s about to come your way. Merry Pussmas!
[crypto-donation-box]
Dec 21st, 2009 by CH
Way back in November I posed the following scenario. What do you do when your girl keeps mentioning the name of another man she’s known since high school and for whom you suspect she nurses some latent sexual attraction?
363 comments suggests this sort of scenario is not that uncommon. Most readers’ responses would fall under the category of “overreaction”. Reacting out of proportion to a woman’s infraction is the quickest way to discredit your alpha cred. A few got it right. Here is a random sampling:
MeMyselfI wrote:
Ignore most of what she’s saying about the other guy. Tuck it away for future use, but don’t worry about it.
Hit on the waitress (assuming she’s reasonably good looking – better if she’s hot) in front of her during that dinner.
Take her home after dinner – no sex that night. Early if possible. Go to another party/event. Maybe text her from that event, if possible. See if she asks what your are doing.
Wait and see how she responds to the above…
In every “Test of your Game” post, I always include a few critical clues to the correct response. In this scenario, I specifically wrote that you had been dating this hypothetical girl for a few months. Now think about it — is it normal behavior for a man who’s been dating a girl for months to blatantly flirt with the waitress over dinner, drop his girl off at home with no sex so he can go to another party without her, and then text her from that party later in the night… all because she mentioned another dude’s name a few too many times during dinner? You don’t think the girl will ask you why you’re dropping her off and refusing to take her to another party? This is classic overreaction. Now this kind of asshole game will work on a girl you’ve just started dating who is playing hard to get with you, but not with a girlfriend.
Grade: D (Barely passing, because your heart is in the right place)
jom wrote:
Say something along the lines of, “Sometimes you have to let people make the stupid mistakes they are determined to make.” You frame him as a fool who needs to learn in order to reach your level.
Generally speaking, subtle psychological ploys like this one trump spazzy overreaction. In the post, I wrote that the girl was “fake complaining” about something the other man did. You know how girls fake complain about men they find sexually alluring? It gives them a reason to keep his name front and center in her mind. Jom’s psychological acrobatics can be an effective counter tactic, although it is not the best option available because his reframe continues with the theme of keeping the other man’s presence alive in the conversation.
Grade: B-
Dan wrote:
Kill her.
Well, at least it’s not beta.
Grade: F+
Thras wrote:
Wait for the next time that she doesn’t account for her movements, accuse her of seeing him. Storm out. Then get into a fight with the guy at the next available opportunity.
I’m pretty sure this reply was meant as a joke.
Grade if joke: B+
Grade if not joke: F
The Book of Dooderonomy wrote:
I’d defend the guy’s actions, so long as they were short of murder.
Her: I can’t believe John did *so and so objectionable action*.
Me: Ha, really? Well, from a guys perspective, it seems he did the right thing. Had I been put in that situation, I’d definitely have done something similar.And I’d keep defending it, but defend it intelligently, yet with a hint of me just doing it to get under her skin. Also, I would note to her that he seems like a “really cool guy” and some of his other good qualities, but do it backhandedly.
This is psyche-out 101, similar to Jom’s reply, except better because it doesn’t risk making you sound resentful as you would if you were to criticize your competition, however adroitly you massage your criticisms. Backhanded compliments of intruder males, like negs to target women, is a sly — some would say slimy — ploy to keep the upper hand. It is usually effective.
Grade: A
Skryblah wrote:
Easy, just smile to yourself when she brings him up, each and every time, and each time she asks why you are smiling, just say that you remembered something funny…be sure to make it look legit, and then sit back as her brain goes hyper confused, she can connect the dots to figure out that you smile every time she mentions him but she will go crazy trying to figure out why on earth you are smiling, basically successfully shifting her focus from the other guy to why the fuck you are smiling. Never underestimate the crazy things women think of when trying to rationalize their guys actions that seem irrational.
I include responses like this one under the category of “What I pretend not to notice won’t affect me”. A generally safe bet as a strategy, but sometimes it *will* affect you. Then what? Nevertheless, if you can’t find an effective way to respond, a good default mode is the shit eating grin followed up by the utterly random conversational thread breaker.
Grade: B+
anony (a woman) wrote:
address it directly, with respectful teasing, that she has a crush on him. the particular words don’t matter.
Teasing a girlfriend about having a crush on another man works well if the other man in question is some faraway totally unobtainable dude like a Hollywood celebrity. Or if the other guy is obviously lower in status than you. But it’s a risky tactic if the other man is someone she’s known for years and could represent serious competition to you.
Grade: C
ASDF wrote:
My first reaction (if I could no longer ignore it) would be to call her out a bit. Saying something like “I’m not interested in talking about your buddy. That’s what your girlfriends are for. I don’t care about his problems.”
The “calling her out” strategy was very popular among the commenters. I say it risks sounding like overreaction. Sometimes a woman’s shit test is so bold it deserves a strong, alpha male “calling out” response, possibly appended with an ultimatum. This was not one of those times.
Grade: C-
The G Manifesto wrote:
You lost me here:
“You’ve been dating a girl for a few months. ”
But to play along, I like MeMyselfI’s moves.
I would get the waitress or girl bartenders number when the girl goes to the bathroom.
Then get a blower in the Lac before dropping her off.
Then roll to the Gentleman’s Club to swoop more girls.
All done suited down of course.
I was about to fail this entry, but then I noticed he would do all this suited down. I revised my grading.
Grade: A+
hcl wrote:
Hmmm, were this a real life scenario I’d believe she fails to meet his high, non-player (stoic = not a player) standards.
If he didn’t bang her then (and they obviously haven’t), he simply isn’t sufficiently interested. She’s an orbiter of his.
The likelihood they’ll ever bang is low, but non-zero.
hcl has done a good job of correctly assessing the dynamics of the shadow relationship. She’s known this other guy for years and yet, according to her, they’ve never dated or (presumably) hooked up? She’s an orbiter of him, not the other way around. Does this fact mean it is more or less dangerous for you? Tough to say. Assuming his interest in her is low and her interest in him is high, all it would take is a small move on his part, if he were so inclined, to tempt her into a tryst. But it’s also important to remind yourself that she’s fucking you, not the other guy. That is the fact that matters most above all other facts.
Grade: A for proper assessment
John wrote:
“Call him up…we can both bang you at the same time. I call mouth.”
If you are dating a superfreaky girl, this might just work. But then you’d have to watch another guy banging her from behind while you’re up front. Would you high five him during the Chinese finger cuffs?
Grade: E for effort
***
What I did:
While she was taking about the dude, I reached over and grabbed a piece of lint off her shoulder. Neg, abrupt conversation thread break, and protector of loved ones, all in one simple gesture.
Nonetheless, because of her not-so-infrequent mentions of his name, she was put on mental notice, and bumped down to tier 2 on the CH Fidelity Guarantee Purchase Policy. This means I kept my eye open for other prospects and put up token resistance when tempted.
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