Readers sometimes ask me: “What is a natural? How do you define one? What makes a natural who falls into pussy different from the majority of men who have to struggle every day of their lives to taste morsels of muff?”
The natural has three things going for him, that when combined into one ubermensch transforms him from a faceless dick on the prowl to a potent pickup machine.
Genetic blessings. He was born with a seductive ability to understand women and relate to them in such a way that their legs spread unbidden to his subtle provocations. This ability is intuitive Game, no different in function than the game taught in books and at seminars, and it is an order of magnitude more critical to getting laid than being born with rugged good looks, though it is true the best naturals are born with both. Naturals are blessed with computational power shared equally between their right and left brain hemispheres, and they tend to be more verbally adept than the average man.
He started young. Every natural I’ve known began their skirt chasing careers before their first pube sprouts saw the light of day. If you ask a PUA when he started getting good with women, he can usually tell you the exact day and time. If you ask a natural the same question, he’ll shrug his shoulders and say he’s always been this way.
He tasted success before failure. That very first naive, bumbling attempt at the age of fourteen to win a cute girl’s heart will make or break a man’s future with women. Failure will leave an indelible mark that won’t ever wash away for many men, corrupting their confidence with women for decades. For other men, early failure lingers like a stinkbomb in the soul until he rescues his confidence through sheer willpower and ambition. But the natural had success with his first girl, and that fledgling success laid the foundation for his confidence to grow like a fission reaction building on itself.
You will find naturals disproportionately represented in the fields of sales, politics, the fine arts, psychology, and pimp-dom. Naturals are not necessarily the men who sleep with the most women, but they are the men who *could* sleep with the most women should they choose to do so. Many naturals are in leadership positions because the persuasive mind techniques they possess that open pussy are the same mental gifts that open career opportunities.
Silvio Berlusconi is a natural, and probably was one long before he became a billionaire and prime minister. If you doubt this, read the following taped transcript of a conversation between Silvio and one of his lovers (link provided by reader Butters):
Woman: A young man would have come in a second.. I mean he would have come… Young men usually have a lot of pressure.
Silvio: But if you will allow me… (muffled) I believe it is a family thing.
Woman: What?
Silvio: Having an orgasm.
Woman: You know how long it has been since I had sex like I had with you tonight. It’s several months, since I broke with my boyfriend. Is this normal?
Silvio: May I? You should have sex with yourself. You should touch yourself often.
These, my friends, are the seductive words of a natural. The woman in this conversation is thirty years younger than Silvio. Godspeed, you randy old fart. May we all have the blessings to enjoy our Golden Rod years the way you do.
But don’t take it from me. Hear it straight from a woman’s mouth(hat tip: reader Joe): The last few years of Sunday brunches with my girlfriends have revealed that players tend to follow a particular pattern. They bang a girl, then don’t call for at least two weeks. When they decide they want some ass, they will hound her with six calls on a Saturday . . . and then a Wednesday . . . and then the next Friday . . . until she picks up. Repeat.
I like to call it the Player Pattern – one section of the unspoken rule book that players everywhere use to win their game. […]
[H]ow did the Player Pattern become a pattern? Because it happened to each of my girlfriends. Repeatedly. We may moan about a lack of respect, but every time we run into a bad boy, we think we can be the one to pull him to monogamy.
I still don’t quite understand why someone would perpetuate the Player ideology. It leads females to self-doubt and insecurities, makes us hesitant and difficult and renders communication near impossible. (i.e. we will pick fights and want to talk about feelings). But I do acknowledge that tips that come from blogs, game shows and your boys seem to work. So when the game is so easy to win, can you really blame the Player? Who is really the fool here?
When I first learned game, I had convinced myself that once the material and tactics got out into general circulation and became widely known amongst the set of pretty girls who get hit on the most, it would mean game would lose its element of surprise and women would stop responding positively to it. I figured once that in-field inflection point was reached women would revert back to getting aroused by men with the biggest pecs or loudest mouth. My worries couldn’t have been more unfounded. Game is out there and girls are still lubing themselves for men who run it on them. Even the girls who *know* they are getting gamed.
To see why this is so all you need to do is play a gender role reversal thought experiment. Imagine a girl and guy meet. They have a conversation, and sparks fly. The guy thinks the girl is very attractive. At the beginning of the conversation, the girl tells the guy she wore a push-up bra to catch his attention from across the room with her cleavage, and she put on makeup to enlarge her eyes, which she knew would highly arouse him. Then she tells him she will be sure to cross and uncross her legs a few times to draw his eyes to her thighs and crotch. She further explains that she will play coy by batting her eyelashes and looking down and away when he makes a strongly flirtatious move on her, figuring that will ignite his desire to chase her and make her seem more valuable to him. Finally, she tells him she will laugh a little too hard at one of his jokes on purpose, so he will feel like she really admires his sense of humor.
What do you think will go through the man’s head?
“Yes, she likes me! I am so getting laid.”
The man will not be any less aroused from knowing the games women play to manipulate his desire. In the same way, women are not any less aroused when they are aware that a man is seducing them. They will enjoy the seduction as long as he knows what he’s doing.
Caveat: There are some one-liners in the seduction community that will become so overused they could potentially blow a guy out. I’ve heard that the “Who lies more?” opener was so ubiquitous in LA at one time that women, when they heard it used on them, would laugh out loud and tell the guy to try new material. Fortunately, there is enough fresh material now that overuse should no longer be a problem. The community has grown tremendously and technology has advanced so much that a man could check his iPhone GET LAID NOW ASK ME HOW app for a suitable quickie opener *as the situation is unfolding* in front of him. That’s power at your fingertips.
As for the “player pattern” recognized by the woman who wrote the above article, I’m not aware that it’s common community advice to wait two weeks to call back a girl you’ve banged, and to call six times on Saturday, then follow up on Wednesday and Friday. This sounds more beta than PUA, as I find it’s best to call a girl you’ve banged the day after to smooth any rough edges and hold the door open for future bangs. When to call back isn’t a critical issue; as long as you’ve attracted the girl you can call back whenever you feel like it without repercussion. Just don’t pull a Swingers and call ten times the night you met her. That much should be obvious to any man with a lick of sense.
I am never in the company of men after 5. – Bertrand Morane
After sex, the company of women can be a drag. – Me
I spend a lot of time with women. Either seducing them, fucking them, fucking with them, listening to them, scratching the napes of their necks, or examining them like a disassembled timepiece. The purpose of such mingling goes deeper than enjoying the pleasure of their company. Books, mentors, a willingness to discard delusion and lies, and a keen eye will aid a man in his divine quest to acquire as much sex and love as he can handle from beautiful women, but no impetus to personal growth is as effective as direct interaction with the subject. Whether sex is or is not the goal, being around women sharply flattens the learning curve. There may be a gene yet discovered which grants its possessor the innate ability to know how a woman ticks, but if there is such a gene, it is a neural algorithm that quickly decays from disuse. Even the best naturals had to buck up and endure spend glorious time around women before their Asmodeus-blessed gifts could find full expression.
Given this reality, some men might make the understandable mistake that their every waking moment should be with women or, if no women are physically present, with women in their thoughts. This would be a false extrapolation. Like a diligent scientist deep in the bowels of his flourescently dismal lab who has forgotten the feeling of the sun on his face, a man who spends all his free time with women risks degeneration of his masculine core. Inhalation of the estrogenic fumes of too much distaff attention and his spirit becomes arthritic, his testicular acuity blurs into maudlin mush. Perspective is lost.
Men would do well to occasionally distance themselves from women and their petty intrigues, and the best way to do this is not through solitude but in the company of other men, reveling in hearty chest thumps, metaphorical or real, and swearing bloodstirring oaths to doctrines good and great that elude the grasp of women stuck in the mud of their uninspiring, earthy practicality. And men, unlike women, are capable of their high drama without uttering a word.
Let me cut to the chase: Women are mostly boring. Even, maybe especially, the brightest and most overeducated among them can induce cataract-like glazing of the eyes if given enough comfort and a sympathetic ear to unleash the menstrual force of their vaggy stream of consciousness. Disconnected from their bodies and sexuality, their flirtations and flattery, and their charm and whimsy, women are incapable of seriously entertaining for any length of time greater than the duration from leer to spent urge any but the most desperately cloying of men. Sure there are exceptions — women of particularly engaging personalities and surprising fondness for the abstract — but these exceptions serve merely to remind a man of the depressing drabness of the mass of women with their meager, provincial concerns.
Don’t lose contact with the world of men. Their vigorous, purposeful company is a refreshing tonic to the pedestrian prattle, contrived machinations, and histrionic solipsism of women.
A lot of guys fret about meeting their girlfriends’ parents, but it’s important to do so for reasons having nothing to do with making a good impression. Your girlfriend will never catch onto the real reason you went with her to visit her parents: To collect vital information on how badly and how quickly your precious flower will wilt over the years.
Nothing — not your girlfriend’s eating or exercise habits, her worldview, or her desire to please you — will tell you more about how she will age than what her parents look like. Genetic fate uber alles. I know it’s difficult to grasp that the cutie who gives you solid wood could one day turn into the sunbathing walrus that is her mother, but no man should underestimate the brutal toll ten to twenty years takes on a woman’s looks. And brutal it is. Her beauty will begin the slow fade after 25, and then plummet like a rock over Angel Falls after her early 30s. The uglier and fatter her mother, the harder and faster your sweet rose will smash into the wall.
You’ve seen those incomprehensible mother-daughter pairings at the mall. That’s what awaits you. Remind me again what’s the upside to getting married?
Every man should be pushing his entire life to date women at least ten years younger than himself, with the average gap growing wider the older the man gets to account for the massive deleveraging of women’s sexual market value after age 35. Remember, 35 in female years is 50 in male years. So your schedule should go like this: You hit 30? Date 20 year olds. When you’re 40, don’t go higher than 30. 50 and you set the upper limit at 35. If you’re especially high status, you can adjust the optimal age gap to twenty years. Of course, this plan is a lot easier to do as a free, unmarried man.
The mother-daughter coefficient of fading beauty is such an accurate predictor of the daughter’s future beauty decline that it’s a wonder more men don’t visit their girlfriends’ parents to size up their beloveds for their worth as long term partners. When men commit to a single woman, they are making a huge sacrifice, similar to the sacrifice women make when they have sex with a beta. It’s a cramping of style. So men would be wise to unblock any information bottlenecks regarding the expiration date of their girlfriends, and that means sizing up her parents for a glimpse at your honeysuckle’s shelf life. This is where I can help.
Let’s say you’re dating a hot, slender chick. Now let’s say you’re thinking about going the distance with her and foreswearing all other women to be with just her. Whoa, tiger! Don’t make any hasty decisions until you’ve consulted my handy chart for determining how your cute girlfriend will hold up after ten years. To help you realize the power of my chart, you’ll need to know what your girl’s parents look like and what they looked like back when they were young.
The daughter The father The mother The daughter
looks like looks like looks like in 10 years
the father Clark Gable a manatee still hot, but check
for telltale signs like
upper arms or thick
wrists that resemble
mom’s
the father an inbred a former *future fatty alert*
from his youth beer keg hottie keep her away from
beer and beef jerky
the mother a fat redneck a MILF still hot, but dump her
if she drinks schlitz with
her dad in the garage
the mother a normal the seacow *future fatty alert*
from her youth dude formerly known expect massive
as princess weight gain
neither a herb a plain jane *wildcard* proceed
with caution
both, before a fat slob a fat slob *DANGER* cut and run
they got fat after monopolizing
her best years
both handsome still fuckable *winner* she’ll stay fresh
for years. get down on one
knee and… tie your
shoelace
There’s an interesting side effect to the mother-daughter coefficient of fading beauty. Oftentimes, a cute chick with an ugly, fat mom will have low self esteem because she has spent her life in the shadow of her future self. She has probably had nightmares about turning into her mother, and as a result does not perceive her own beauty very well. Insecure hotties are often the best kinds of chicks to date. They will always strive to earn your approval while you will have to pinch yourself that it can be this easy. You should jump at the chance to visit her parents because she will feel ashamed of her fat mom, and that shame will redound to her own feeling of self-worth. For added impact, raise your eyebrows in surprise when you meet the mother, and tell her her daughter mentioned she was a great cook.
Even though I have been running game on women for many years (it’s almost a second career for me) I still encounter the same stumbing blocks I did when I first started on my journey to mastering the art of seduction. I have made a list of the obstacles that I believe will plague any man’s game for life. The goal isn’t to eliminate these obstacles, (which cannot be done anyhow for you may as well argue that the urge to eat can be eliminated), but to manage them so that they do not hinder your game to the point of denying you success.
The Approach
Don’t listen to any PUA guru who tells you that fear of approach can be killed. It can’t. I still get it from time to time, and in varying degrees of anxiety, despite having approached hundreds, maybe thousands, of women over the whole of my life, for purposes sexual and otherwise. The fear of approaching women cold to initiate a courtship is hardwired in men, and for good reason, as a failed cold approach in the ancestral environment could have easily led to banishment from the tribe, and early death. Worse still, it could have led to incessant mockery from peers. The best way to handle approach anxiety is a paraphrase of a quote from Dune:
I must not fear approaching women. Approach anxiety is the mind-killer. It is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my approach anxiety. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when my approach anxiety is at its highest, I will smile and accept my fear, and only I will remain.
Qualifying Her
I’ve seen more guys forget to qualify a girl than mess up any other part of the seduction. I can only surmise that it is anti-instinctual for a man to judge women, but instinctual for him to put himself up for judgment by women. Again, qualifying women is one of those things that goes against the circuitry of beta hardwiring. The failure to qualify cannot be eliminated — you will occasionally fail to screen your target — but it can be managed. You have to make a conscious effort to remind yourself to judge the girl you are talking with. That means saying to yourself “OK, how can this girl please me? What does she bring to the table?” before approaching her. It also means having a ready list of qualification questions to ask as part of your game, such as “Could you make me laugh? So many women think they’re funny when they aren’t.”
Isolating Her
This is another stage of game that I notice men tend to forget to do. My guess is that once a man has successfully opened a girl and is enjoying full-throttled conversation with her, he gets so wrapped up in his early forward progress that he is afraid to break the rhythm by moving the girl to an isolated location for deeper rapport. But he must do this, because deep rapport in a relatively quiet spot away from the location of the initial meet is vital to avoid later flaking. So be a leader and drag her to a new location, and if she balks then you know that your sparkling conversation with her wasn’t as sparkling as you thought it was.
Being an Asshole/Negging Her
As much as the neg is talked about as a critical component of game, you’d think it would be second nature to most aspiring PUAs. But it isn’t. There are some guys I’ve seen in the field, who despite encyclopedic knowledge of game, never remember to throw out that all-important value-lowering neg on girls who need them (i.e. hot chicks). If you can’t think on your feet, then have a couple all-purpose negs stored in your brain. I know you can do it, because you have CPU specs committed to memory, so it can’t be a stretch to remember a neg or two. Try this: “Hey you’ve got a cool sense of style… especially that 1960s retro haircut, like my Mom’s.” Or one of my all-time personal favorites: “You’re trying too hard.”
Hovering
Seductions will fail, face it. When they do, don’t hover hoping for her to have a change of heart. I still don’t know why so many men display this horribly low value behavior, but they do. Perhaps it’s a cognitive mechanism of self-delusion that spares a man’s ego from acknowledging the rejection.
Taking the Girl Home
No matter how expertly he ran his attraction and comfort game, it will all be for naught if he can’t transition to the bedroom, and sooner rather than later. This is another game foul that I observe men making in the field; they have won the girl’s attraction, got her hooked with his stories and listening ability, done everything right… and then forget or refuse to boldly move her to his pad. I know the thinking process: “Well, look, I’ve got her where I want her, so it’s just a matter of time before she’s in my bed. So it makes no sense to risk it all by pushing too hard for the fuck close right now.” This thinking is self-limiting, and often counterproductive. Getting a girl horny where she might be up for a same night lay, and then disappointing her by letting the seduction fizzle to a wimpy denouement, will cause her to reassess her positive first impressions the next day. So have an excuse handy, such as “Hey I’m thirsty. Let’s go back to my place for some delicious tap water.”
Maxim #44: Women will not hold it against you for trying to get into their panties on the first night. In fact, they will respect you more for your boldness and willingness to follow your manly desires.
Erik Von Markovic (AKA Mystery) has a 1 year old daughter named Dakota Breeze. Such a cheeseball name. It’s as if he named her knowing she’d grow up to be an exotic dancer. I couldn’t find any information about the mother. Anyhow, Mystery has put up a youtube video of him serenading his daughter in song:
A great man goes down. He’s traded in his peacocking heart medallion for a heartfelt song about his daughter. This is the end of an era. Mystery is from my generation. I attended one of his seminars (at no cost). I used his material to fuck quite a number of women. But now he has surrendered to the slow, persistent wind-down of aging, settling (at least in some small measure) for fatherhood and responsibility at the expense of the thrill of seducing fresh, piping hot pussy. I feel hollow inside.
He hasn’t completely betrayed his nature. Note the conspicuously placed “Love” pillow in the background.
Some of the youtube comments are hilarious.
Don’t game your daughter dude, not cool. Too far.
I’m wondering why he didn’t pull out in time !?!?! he’s fucked over 350 women already,.. he must know these things !
mystery ! I got to sign out now ! but very quickly, I got a question for you :
on scale of 1 to 10 how do you rate this song ?
Oh shit! When did you have a daughter? Congratulations. She’ll know all the lines by the time she’s older. She’ll be pick up proof lol
True. Dakota Breeze could be a future pickup artist’s greatest challenge. She’ll have Captain America’s vibranium alloy bitch shield. She’ll always be three steps ahead of any routine that a PUA tries to run on her. This is all assuming she gets blessed with good genes for beauty. If she’s lower than a 7, no skilled PUA worth his salty balls will hit on her, and her high paying stripper career is dead in the cradle. She’ll have to work for pocket change at some redneck roadside titty bar. Still, banging Mystery’s daughter would by quite a trophy bag. The apprentice becomes the master… and impales the master with his own sword.
I bet he’s going to be loving the game when it’s being used on his sweet little girl.
Ouch. But I bet Mystery is smart enough that he’ll logically spin some rationalization for why it’s OK that dudes running game to bang his daughter is all part of the inescapable mission statement of existence to survive and replicate. I know that’s how I would handle the cognitive dissonance.
On a VH1 Pickup Artist forum, one of the commenters dropped some juicy rumors about Mystery:
Actually Matador does wear a wig. And Mystery wears hats to cover his psoriosis and black nail polish to cover his bad nail fungus. What most people DON’T know is that Mystery, ie Erik Von Markovik, is a dead beat dad. His almost 2 yr old little girl rarely sees her dad and he has only paid about $1000 in child support in her whole life. Both Matador and Mystery tell guys to keep it wrapped but it is known that neither do it very often themselves. And if you have read Mystery’s book he actually tells guys that the way to overcome LMR (last minute resistence) is to agree with the woman but KEEP GOING. So a woman can say NO and he ignores it and does what he wants anyway. Hmmm. And men think that is the way to treat women. How pathetic…
If this is true, I salute Mystery for shelling out only $1,000 in child support despite being worth millions. Women have to learn that getting impregnated by an alpha male cad will have costly consequences, chief of which being that such a man is less likely to provide the resources to help raise any children.
Also, like Mystery, I avoid using condoms whenever it’s feasible — I usually wait until I have been with the girl for at least a month. One night stands and short flings are CONDOM ONLY. Some trust has to be established before going raw.
Enough of the betas and herbs for a change. It’s time for some positive role models.
Two alpha males. One caged ring. No holds barred. Who will emerge victorious, King of The Alphas?
In this corner…
…we have Silvio Berlusconi, 72 year old rightist Italian Prime Minister who cavorts with 18 year old Italian models, publicly tells his wife she should apologize after she finds out about his numerous liaisons and begins filing divorce proceedings…
Asked if there was any chance of saving his marriage, the prime minister said: “I don’t think so. I don’t know if I want that this time. Veronica will have to apologise to me publicly. And I don’t know if it would be enough.
“It’s the third time in an election campaign that she has pulled a stunt of this kind. It really is too much.”
…, GETS DEFENDED BY HIS KIDS when their Dad’s hedonist lifestyle is brought to light…
[The] leader of the opposition Democratic Party, Dario Franceschini, asked Italians at a European Parliament election rally: “Would you want your children brought up by this man?”The question provoked a furious response from Mr Berlusconi’s children, who have rarely made public statements in the past.
“Angry?” asked Marina, [Berlusconi’s] eldest daughter from his first marriage and chairman of publisher Mondadori, in an interview for Corriere della Sera.
“I am indignant. Furious. No, this is enough. This time, I don’t intend to stay silent. My father has always worked a lot, but there has never been a time, a single time, in which I did not have him near when I needed him.”
…, and still manages at the age of 72 to sport daytime chubby just walking around hot young women:
Hey paeson, teen girls ARE Viagra! Capice?
As reader Traveller noted:
An affair with a seventeen year-old at age seventy-two! The best part? His kids come out to defend him! Amazing.
“Would you want your children brought up by this man?”
Wrong question. Question is – who wouldn’t?
Does this man look troubled to you?:
I think this quote from Berlusconi best illustrates his bone-deep alphatude:
Berlusconi said he had dropped in on the birthday party of Noemi Letizia [18 year old Italian model] because her father, a council employee, was a “friend of many years”. Asked why she called him papi, he replied: “But it’s a joke. They wanted to call me granddad. It’s better they call me daddy, don’t you think?”
The prime minister said three pretty young women whose candidacies were revoked after Lario’s letter were not showgirls. One was an actress, he said.
An apex alpha male like Silvio should not be punished for enjoying the fruits of the women who love him, just as an apex alpha female should not be punished for securing commitment from an incorrigible playboy alpha male. High five, Silvio. You are an inspiration for men everywhere. May the betas of the world learn from your example.
PS: My maternal grandfather was a spitting image of Berlusconi.
******
And in this corner…
we have the upstart American 72 year old H. Beatty Chadwick, a Pennsylvania lawyer who spent 14 years in jail in a civil contempt case *without ever being charged* for refusing to cough up 2.5 million in extortion alimony to the world’s filthiest scumcunt bitch ex-wife ever.
One can spend a long time in jail in the U.S. without ever being charged with a crime.
It happened to H. Beatty Chadwick, a former Philadelphia-area lawyer, who has been behind bars for nearly 14 years without being charged. And this didn’t take place in some 3rd world dictatorship or tyrannical government like China or Iran it was done right here in the U.S.
No trial ever took place, Chadwick has never been allowed to face his accuser and no jury ever heard any evidence against him.
In 1994, during his divorce proceedings, a Delaware County judge (yes a county Judge) held Mr. Chadwick in civil contempt for failing to put $2.5 million in a court-controlled account. He says he lost the money in bad investments; his wife’s attorney claimed he had hidden it offshore. In April 1995, Mr. Chadwick was arrested and detained. Nearly 14 years later, Mr. Chadwick, who suffers from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, is still in jail — even after a retired judge was hired to help locate the money, and failed.
I’m sure Chadwick is lying about the whereabouts of his pile of loot, and I say GOOD SHOW OLD CHAP! Deny that ballcutting soulsucking bitch anything of your life’s hard work and sacrifice. Lie like the wind. If there was ever any question by the milquetoast-y herbs and self-serving fembots among us whether lying before the law can be the morally right thing to do, this case should settle the matter.
Just how corrosively amoral is the soul of woman? Remember: Chadwick’s ex-wife was perfectly content letting him rot in jail for years on end in a blackmail bid to pry HIS OWN MONEY from his hands. It was in her power to end his torment any time she wanted. But she didn’t. That should tell you all you need to know about the blackened core beating in almost every woman’s heart when her interest is on the line and the love is gone.
Here is a photo of the loving couple back in happier times:
Can you tell just by looking at her what monstrous evil she would eventually rain down on the man she once loved? No. So you must do the smart thing and assume every woman, given the right incentives, is capable of similar evil.
MEN: DO NOT GET MARRIED. You have been warned. You can get all the benefits of a good marriage in a loving, UNMARRIED relationship with none of the risks of jail or paying through the nose for a lifetime retirement plan for your ex-wife. Until the laws change radically (and I have my doubts this will ever happen absent some sort of SWPL-redneck style civil war), you are better off staying far away from the altar.
This case is so egregiously unjust… so EVIL… that Chadwick has thousands of supporters to his cause and a website dedicated to his freedom and to uncovering the raw sewage that permeates the misandrist divorce industrial complex from top to bottom.
H. Beatty Chadwick is a hero with a warrior’s heart. He is a foot soldier in the long war against the criminalization of our court systems by power hungry degenerate feminists and their lowlife parasitic accomplices. Men like him should be honored with statues and parades, and his enemies shamed into removing themselves from public life entirely, and preferably from life altogether. Here’s to hoping Chadwick’s ex-wife either shoves a gun barrel through her pursed WASP lips, or gets run over by a dumptruck with a rubber scrotum hanging from the back.
H. Beatty Chadwick: Hero to all American men, defender of the just and noble, heart of lion. He joins company with this man.
Tell your boys the story of these alpha heroes in the time of Western decline, and if fortune and fate should shine their stirring legacy will forge a new generation’s hearts in steel to fight for their beloved country and rescue it from the twisted, invidious forces of traitorous elites and SWPL saboteurs who through their actions would cause nothing less than to bend America to Her knees, stripped of all that was once good about Her. Si se puede.
As for you guys thinking about kids, do not do it. I speak from experience here. I love my kid but fuck man, it’s such a drag being a parent. Especially since I got divorced (and having a kid fucking accelerated that process) and have joint custody so I have to be daddy every other week.
The reason why I do it though is two fold: I don’t want my daughter to be brain washed by her psychotic mother and it means I don’t pay a single penny in child support. I’m glad I got divorced in Sweden – no alimony ever and no child support if you have joint custody.
If this is true that in Sweden joint custody means no child support or alimony is extorted from the man, then their divorce laws are more just than the divorce laws in the US. All that’s left to answer is how often Swedish judges award joint custody.
Yet one more reason to ditch American women for a foreign lover.
I also agree with Stu’s advice to avoid having kids. Every guy I know who has kids has no social life and, judging by their griping, a nearly nonexistent sex life. I say get your kid fix from nieces and nephews. You visit a few hours each month and play airplane with them, then you leave. All of the fun, none of the fun-killing responsibility.
American woman
stay away from me
American woman
mama let me be…
It’s not looking good for the American woman. Her reputation is taking a beating from all corners of the world. This Seattle Time article has some juicy quotes from British ex-pats living in the U.S. describing their experiences dating American women.
American Women. You can only spend so long with one before you crack. They’re out there, they’re loud, they’re bitter and they’re kooky. After a while all the things that attracted you to them: confidence, conversation, nice teeth, begin to bug you. You think you’ve got Black Beauty and you end up with Mr. Ed.
Confidence in a woman is overrated. I’m with Roosh on this matter — less confident women are more fun to date and make better girlfriends.
Steve (a Brit) says that he had to get used to knowing that American women reserve the right to date a whole bunch of guys at the same time. It’s not like that in England. There, when you really like a girl (and pardon me, but English guys don’t say “women,” they talk about dating a girl), then you don’t go out with half a dozen others.
I once stumbled across the email inbox of a slutty DC girl I used to fuck (a local blogger). She had forgotten to log out of her email and chat on my computer on more than one occasion. (She wasn’t too bright.) I read her messages and chat windows (who wouldn’t?) and discovered she was hooking up with other men on the days she wasn’t taking my cock deep inside her. If only they had known how unspecial they were to her at the time; just another cock on the carousel. She wasn’t a serious prospect so it never bothered me, but it was an illuminating glimpse into the world of the Tacky American Slut.
[Steve]: And something else. That first date with an American girl, it’s like it’s supposed to be a big-time dinner, instead of just going to a pub with friends. So you end up dropping like $90 while she’s doing her checklist.
Fool. Who in this day and age takes a girl to dinner on the first date? And an American woman to boot? I’ll tell you who. Betas.
Even other American women don’t have nice things to say about their sister compatriots:
I talk to Vicki, and she tells me she thinks American women can come across as a bit too much. “They want to be equal so much it can be overpowering,” she says.
Actually, I don’t think American women want to be equal. That’s just what they tell themselves to rationalize their aggressively masculine posturing toward men. More accurately, of all the world’s women, American women are the biggest shit testers because they so very much DON’T want to be equal to the supplicating American betaboys they date. A desire by American women to shit test men to kingdom come to find the alpha gem among the beta shale is often miscontrued by men as a desire for equal footing with them. The truth is, in fact, just the opposite. They shit test because they want to find a man who puts himself on a footing above her. This is why even the most hardcore self-professed feminists will wilt into a puddle of submissive passion for a devil-may-care alpha male who doesn’t take her oh-so-profound ideology or her empty bleatings for equality seriously.
One of the first questions is always: “What car do I drive?” Martin says. “If I have the latest BMW or drive a Chevy, does it make a difference? And they want to know what apartment you live in. Do you live in Bellevue, because if you tell them you live in Everett, they don’t want to know you.”
If you have no game or looks, the women you date will default to “material status” screening. Women must have *something* with which they can judge a man’s alpha status, so barring anything compensatory they will judge a man based on the crudest indicators of status — his material resources. Game and other forms of psychosocial dominance allow women the freedom — even the pleasure — to judge a man on indicators of status other than his monetary worth. This is because male psychological dominance hits women’s pleasure centers more directly than does male resource display. Unless you are very wealthy — top 1/2% of all men — you will do better at attracting women with game. See: Skittles Man.
[Oliver]: It was like being with a nasty bank manager, rather than someone with whom you hope to sleep. … American girls are possibly the most wound-up people on the planet. They don’t believe in laughing: Instead, they would go to ‘laugh class’ to find out how, then solemnly say it had changed their life.
“Nasty bank manager”. Ha haa! This quote sums up the American woman well. American women are bank managers and pompous, phony laughers who take themselves too seriously because America has spoiled them. American men need to relearn the art of charming condescension.
While I date and fuck mostly American women, if I was limited to only one woman for the rest of my life, I would choose a foreign girl. Once you have experienced the pleasure of a truly feminine woman, you’ll never go back to an American Bitch.
In one of my series of posts illustrating the (possibly racially adjustable) universality of men’s taste in women, reader Obsidian mentioned the name of a big booty model he found attractive as an anecdotal counterpoint to the observable reality that female beauty is objective and that men pretty much agree which women are hot. He also claimed most black men like himself would find his ideal big booty model attractive. She goes by the stage name of “Scarlett” and she looks Puerto Rican. Here is a photo:
I’m going to do something different in this post. Instead of asking everyone together to rank the tank in Scarlett’s janx, I will separate the vote tables into “Black Men”, “White Men”, “Asian Men” and “Women”. (I don’t have too many Hispanic readers. You border jumpers will have to choose white or asian.) This is a sociological experiment intended to demonstrate differences between men and women, and between men of different races, in how tolerant they are of chunks of love on a woman.
