Feed on
Posts
Comments

Because the ‘I have a boyfriend’ shit test reflex is commonly encountered when picking up women, many resourceful men have figured out ways around it. As far as I can tell, workarounds fall into the following categories:

  • Acknowledge it and plow

An example of this would be replying “Oh, that’s cool. Hey, you can bring him along when we go for drink.” Or: “Every girl has some guy they call a  boyfriend.” Proceed with pickup as before.

  • Ignore it and plow

She says “I have a boyfriend”; you say… “Hey, check this out. Which fingers do you wear your rings on?” Proceed with pickup as before. [See: Style’s Ring Finger routine]

  • Make a clever retort and plow

For instance, she says “I have a boyfriend” and you reply “That’s cute. So does my girlfriend! We have something in common.” Proceed with pickup as before.

  • Preempt it

Before she has a chance to vomit the ‘I have a boyfriend’ line, you say “I’m surprised you would come to a place like this without your boyfriend” or “Does you boyfriend know you’re out here tonight?” and see if she bites. Upside: Saves lots of time avoiding users like the girl in yesterday’s post. Downside: Reminds her of the boyfriend if she really has one.

  • Indict the boyfriend and plow

The idea behind this tactic is to plant a seed of doubt in her mind about her boyfriend (or strengthen the doubt already in her mind). So you reply: “Do you need your boyfriend’s permission to talk to a cool guy in a bar?” Or: [look around] “I used to let my girlfriend go out with her friends a lot. It was good because I could do my own thing when she wasn’t around.” [smile mischievously] “Where’s your boyfriend?” Ignore her answer and plow.

  • Question her independence and plow

Reply: “You’d better give him a call and tell him you’re not doing anything bad. Some guys worry.” Turbocharged plow!

***

Which one of the above countermoves is most effective? I don’t know. I’ve used all of them with some success. The key is to pay attention to the point in the conversation when she ejaculates the ‘I have a boyfriend’ line. If she says it right away before you’ve gotten two words out of your mouth, it is most likely not a shit test to determine your fuckworthiness. She either doesn’t like the cut of your beta jibe and is letting you down quickly and easily, or she really does have a boyfriend and is being a woman with integrity by letting you know this up front before you have wasted precious minutes futilely gaming her.

On the other hand, if she talks with you for a while before saying it, and she has dropped a few IOIs your way, there is a good chance it is an artificial hurdle. She either has a (rapidly fading) boyfriend and is open to being properly seduced by you, or she doesn’t have a boyfriend and her saying it is just a crude shit test because she’s a woman of low character and social retardation. Either way, you should plow as if her boyfriend objection is meaningless, because it is. The third possibility, and the most dangerous female ploy, is the one I wrote about yesterday: She has a boyfriend she is not going to cheat on, but omits this vital information so she can delight in the ego stroking you give her with your flirty attention. The only way to avoid timesucks like this is to preempt the boyfriend excuse, as explained above. The problem with preemption is that it risks setting an anti-seduction tone. Luckily, I’ve found that it’s a minority of taken women who will deliberately string men along for the attention.

How will you know if she’s open to being seduced away from an imaginary (or not) boyfriend, or if she’s just using you for validation? The answer is in her facial expression. As with the girl I wrote about yesterday, a woman who looks clearly apologetic when she drops the boyfriend bomb and turns rapidly cold after saying it is an attention whore. A user of the good feelings you gave her for twenty minutes. But, if she is still engaged with you after mentioning her boyfriend, and her flirty demeanor hasn’t let up at all, you can safely assume the BF excuse is just that… an excuse. Be sure to verify her continued interest by moving her to a quiet part of the bar. This is critical. A girl in a relationship who has no intention of screwing around on her boyfriend will not follow you to a different location, no matter how good your game or how much she likes you or how few feet away is the new spot. The venue change/location move is a reliable test for smoking out the user whores.

[crypto-donation-box]

Used

Three girls, two guys. One of the guys was obviously gay. (hellOOOO) He had gay face. The girl closest to me, a blonde with a wholesome midwestern look, strokes my jacket sleeve.

“I like the way your jacket feels.”

“Any excuse to cop a feel, eh?”

“What’s it made of?”

“Silkworm. It’s very rare.” I scan the group trying to figure out the social dynamic. One girl was talking to the (presumably) straight guy in intense, eyes locked conversation. She would not cockblock. Another girl was glancing expectantly around the room, perhaps waiting for a boyfriend? She was a cockblock threat. The gay guy was a fat black man playing the role of the mother hen. He was a high risk cockblock.

I address the gay first. “Is your friend here always like this? Touching random stranger’s jackets?”

“Don’t we all!” (Boy, do I know how to call it). “She’s a sweetheart. Isn’t that right, Katy?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want him to think.” She winks at me. The gay turns away and begins sipping his drink through a straw loudly, exaggerating the purse of his lips. He would no longer be a threat. She must have signaled him. I missed the signal. Too subtle.

I talk with Katy for ten minutes before remembering to check her single status. Gotta be smooth when screening for BFs. “How do you know everyone here?”

She gives me the rundown. The other guy is the BF of the girl talking to him. I lean in a little closer to her ear.

“Your friend here,” I motion toward her single friend craning her neck and searching the room, “looks like she’s waiting patiently for someone.”

“Yeah, her boyfriend is coming.”

I lean back and let a few seconds pass. She smiles at me. Ok, I was in the clear. Katy was the odd girl out. Fresh unspoiled meat.

We talk for a half hour. My game is not the sharpest it’s been, in fact I’m a little bit sloppy, but she eats it up like a hungry she-wolf. In hindsight, her extremely positive reaction to my less than stellar game should have been a red flag, but I carried on as if the number close, or even the same night bang, was inevitable. As evidenced by all the arm touching and flicking of hair, she responds very well. Time for a calculated reposition.

“Hey, looks like your friends are pretty busy having fun in their own world. There’s an empty space just over there where we can sit and be a little more comfortable. Let’s move.”

Her smile goes crooked. “Well… I’m waiting for my boyfriend. He’s coming here, too.” She shrugs her shoulders and raises her eyebrows apologetically.

BEEEEEYOTCH.

I stare at her with steely eyes until she gets slightly uncomfortable. I am not smiling at all. I want her to notice my displeasure. I think about calling her out in the manner of Roosh’s campaign to call out cockblocks and shame them in public. Perhaps say something like “I didn’t think you’d be the type of girl to conveniently forget to mention your boyfriend just for attention from other guys. I wonder what he would think of that?”

Instead, I held my tongue and simply gave her the backturn. She didn’t attempt to re-engage. She knew she had committed a grievous lie of omission and the jig was up.

I was used. Emotional rape. She had exacted her tribute — a half hour of my valuable time and energy that could have been better spent on available women. Mission accomplished: Ego validated.

Thinking back, I see a pattern. Girls with boyfriends are often the happiest girls to be the target of my game. They are bored; they need that constant revalidation of their desirability to new men. They may or may not be in love with their boyfriends, it doesn’t seem to matter much. The need for male attention is an addiction that never really goes away, even when they’re 70 and the young man tells them how fetching their blue hair is. Only girls who are deeply in love are granted temporary immunity from the urge to whore attention. This phase usually lasts about 6 months. Two years tops.

Soulmates who never need validation from anyone else but each other are as rare as pink diamonds. If you are in this type of relationship, count your blessings. You have won the quality girl lottery.

Later, I chastised myself for not getting her to cough up the BF information sooner.

[crypto-donation-box]

Alpha Move Of The Day

The Forearm Grab

You’re holding court with three girls. You’re feeling good, on top of your game, and you’ve nailed the perfect stance — standing with your back against the bar surveying your kingdom. The words and the smirks are coming naturally. You know the whole place is watching, intrigued by your social mastery. Five minutes, ten, twenty… you’re not really sure how much time has passed. Your main target’s two friends say they are going to another bar. She shrugs her shoulders at you, smiling, and says she’s going to go with them.

You know this is an IOI to at least grab her contact info. Instead, you reply “You’re a cool chick. Have fun with your friends.” As she turns away and begins to walk off, you grab her forearm firmly and say “Hey”. She spins around, looking at you with a mix of surprise and desire. Her two friends have walked ahead of her. “You’re interesting. Let’s meet sometime. I’ll need your number.” Insta-close.

***

Why this works:

The rollercoaster concept. Girls love oscillating from high to low to high again. She was waiting for you to lunge for her number when she said she had to leave. You denied her that. Unpredictability. Disappointed, she prepared to leave. Then, you grabbed her arm like a mighty godlike hand from the heavens and denied her the disappointment as well.

The hard physical contact. Your grab was firm, fingers wrapped all the way around. This was no time for the light touch. The occasional unapologetically hard and bold kino is one of the purist demonstrations of alphaness. Done at the right time, it will shatter female defenses.

The non-neediness. You almost let her get away. And yet you seemed preternaturally calm about having nearly lost her to the crowd. She was left with the impression that you had no plan to get her number, but changed your mind at the last second. You’re different than every other guy.

Give it a shot.

[crypto-donation-box]

I had a conversation with a girl who described how she was trapped in the hell matrix of shopping for a bridesmaid dress. Here is her dispatch from the frontlines.

HER: I had to go bridesmaid dress shopping on Saturday. If you thought the baby shower was gayer than gay, you have no idea.

ME: haha. Was it you and the girls?

HER: There were overbearing eastern european megalomaniac high pressure saleswomen. The fattest brides I’ve ever seen. And one woman in a halter wedding gown (white) who was at least pushing 65.

ME: Wow. What gift do you get the blushing bride who has 65 years worth of accumulated stuff?

HER: The saleslady suggested she wear a cape for modesty’s sake. But she adamantly refused and kept parading around haughtily while her withered groomsman, 20 years her junior at least, slumped in the corner with his coffee cup. It was a depressing scene to be sure.

ME: A beaten man. Barely alive.

HER: I tried on like one dress and said “K. Good to go. Let’s just take this one.” But no, they want you to pore over every last detail, photograph them all, revisit the choices. For 3 hours.

ME: Psychotic!

HER: My mom came in to get a mother of the groom dress, and sort of sighed heavily. She’s like “What color will you wear?” “Black.” “Emily!!” “What? I can wear it again for any occasion. Bar mitzvahs… funerals…”. Megan (the bride-to-be) instead settled on a putrid shade of mocha. We’ll look like gussied up turds. Turd cakes.

ME: The minister will be Mr. Hanky. Howdy ho everybody!

HER: It’s just a sea of color swatches and taffeta and a sense of crushing defeat. Not to mention the pitying looks at the bridesmaids for not having “made it”. Always a bridesmaid. Just like the damn Swedes at the world junior hockey championships. The room was pepto-bismol pink. Like being in a turbulent stomach. And she still couldn’t find a dress! So we get to do it all over again! Wheeee!!!! SHOOT ME.

ME: It’s exactly the nightmare most men imagine it to be.

[crypto-donation-box]

Schooling The Haters

There are a lot of misconceptions held by haters (and some non-haters) of the game and of yours truly that deserve closer examination.

Obsidian writes in response to a pickup scenario with a sultry game-playing chick I recounted:

Such a girl as described, would come off to me that she would not be satisfactory for potential Mommy material. On top of that she was just plain weird.

[…]His intentions are quite clear-to fuck, usually but not always, in pump & dump fashion-as many Women as possible. To that extent then, his selection criteria, is considerably different from mine, and I see nothing in the least wrong with that.

[…]some of the Game moves one would use to attempt to bed the gal in his scenario, would be wholly different in the kind of Game I used wrt say, Brown Sugah, whom I’ve mentioned before.

It’s amusing how writing in a certain style will lead people to induce the substance of what you write. In fact, I have rarely if ever written on this blog that my intentions are to pump and dump as many women as possible, unless it was in a humorous context. I have described the reality of women. I have given pointers on how to pump and dump if that’s your goal. I have singled out a certain type of woman for pump and dump status. But none of that reflects what I personally value in my own relationships with women. Of course, it is a weakness of human nature to imagine the most antagonistic motives of another person if what that person says is not thematically consistent with the narrative playing out in one’s head.

When I have written about my value system I have been quite clear — a relationship with a woman who loves you is one of the sublime pleasures of life, perhaps the very best pleasure, and the occasional fling or one night stand is pretty good too. It does not make sense, given the short time we have our lives on this earth, to pass up opportunities to make love with women, even to fuck them silly, if the woman does not pass your stringent criteria as LTR material. So yes, one night stands with scheming game-playing chicks and long term passionate relationships with quality women are not morally incompatible in my worldview. Only those whose options are limited (Hi TBG!) subscribe to those sorts of self-serving sociosexual codes.

As for Obsidian’s contention that the game used on weird chicks such as the girl in my post is different from the game used on the kind of women Obsidian is interested in meeting (presumably, marriage material), I call bullshit. Game, like a woman’s looks, is not cookie cutter, but neither is it completely random in its effect. The fundamental concepts of game are universal and apply equally to all kinds of women, from Rules Girls to club sluts to church angels to playettes to rebounders to Georgetown yuppies to SWPLers to haughty hipsters to young to old… and even to lawyer chicks. If it were not so, there would be no such thing as “game”. Think about it.

Superhater Keith, the Alpha-iest of Alphas wrote:

Yes, but [the girls who respond positively to his game] still resemble one another in otherwise unobserved traits that correlate with their tendency to give you their number in the first place.

This is a common anti-game argument pulled with insipid frequency from the hater handbook. Alternate version: “You’ll only pick up sluts and low self esteem girls who fall for your game.” Haters of this school of hate comfort themselves with the lie that no worthy girl would ever fall for a player. As I fatherly corrected Stupendously Alpha Keith in the comments: Tautology, unreel thyself.

Super Alpha Keith reminds me of those cloying beta chumps who have spent many years of indoctrination in a seven sisters school, imbibing the feminist zeitgeist with gusto and learning to parrot all the right shibboleths in order to steal a thin-lipped kiss from some hippie chick with Daddy Gaia issues. There is of course no specific type of chick who falls for game, because there aren’t different sets of rules that govern female attraction. Game is unlimited in its potential because the male traits that women find attractive are universally shared, give or take some nontrivial broad racial differences. The tautological emptiness of Keith’s two minute hate becomes apparent when we switch genders — women with slender hourglass figures, nice tits and ass, and pretty faces don’t attract a subset of men who resemble one another in unobserved traits that correlate with their tendency to be attracted to pretty women; they attract the *vast majority* of men because female beauty, like male game, is objectively attractive to the opposite sex.

poster asked:

you never talked about how to game cigstach…i’m really curious about what you were going to say

Skip attraction and go straight into comfort building rapport. Tell her you both have a lot in common — the ability to grow thick, bushy mustaches. Share a cig, then go for the kiss, licking the corners of her stache into a handlebar shape with your saliva. Repeat until the love is strong.

omw wrote:

Breaking [game] down into official sub-categories with accompanying routines and choreography is what’s weird.

It’s only weird when you’re aware of it.  😉

Many, many haters wrote:

It’s important to be sincere in a serious relationship. Which you can’t do with game.

I’ll quote commenter Thursday on this:

“Game is necessary for a relationship because attraction is necessary for a relationship and game is what creates attraction for women.  But it is not sufficient and no one ever said it was.”

I’d add that a softened version of game is an important component of any long term relationship. And the belief that game is insincere? Just the opposite. Game is the most effective way for a man to express his deepest sincere feelings for a woman. A man has to advertise his sincere desires. If he doesn’t, women will hardly know the value of his product or the strength of his feelings. And the wrong sort of advertising will send her to another store.

Lisa the typical female hater wrote in response to me:

“a man seen with “bar skanks” as you call them will be more attractive to women than a man with no woman at his side.”

Only to other bar skanks.

A fairly common anti-poon diatribe is the “like begets like” argument. This is how haters attempt to diminish the achievements of their targets of hate. They reside well above that muck, don’t you see. As with most hate, it strikes a superficially plausible note, but in reality is proven utterly false.

I have observed that women’s preselection programming is a blunt algorithm. That is, when a woman sees you with another woman, she does not filter your quality based on your companion’s beauty as perceptively as a man filters for female beauty. You have some wiggle room in your choice of social proof. If you’re in the company of a 5, the power of preselection will work all the way up to 8s, as long as you are seen to be having a good time with your 5. To other women, the fact that you make your pawn female companion smile and laugh is more important in evaluating your quality as a man than is the exact beauty rating of your companion.

Naturally, there are limits on the applicability of women’s preselection mechanism. If your social proof is an obese 2, 10s will not give you much favor. Women are subconsciously much less forgiving of blubber on other women than they are of the prettiness or lack thereof of other women’s faces. A slender 4 with good fashion sense and obvious enjoyment at being in your company will trigger the preselection switches of plenty of hotter women in a bar.

Androgyne MQ wrote:

However, these [beta providers] do not spend all their time whining and bitching on the internet (at least not when they’re young, if they get wiped out in a divorce settlement later on then they do).

Handy betaboy translation: “Whining and bitching” = “Saying stuff that offends my tender sensibilities”.

MQ is Dizzy’s love beta.

Whiskey wrote:

How can MOST GUYS be socially dominant? Answer: they CANNOT BY DEFINITION. Period. Social dominance is like an episode of Highlander. There can be only one. And that one is what women want. Therefore, every guy with the ability to figure this out will race to social dominance. Which ends inevitably in thuggery because that is how social dominance gets settled in the end.

And over on 2Blowhards where they are having freewheeling discussions about the cultural significance of game, Rain And wrote:

PUAs recommend a massive amount of approaches to learn Game.. something like 20 per week, per man.. and this will have two effects:: It means more otherwise unmated women will be absorbed.. leaving less available women for the lucky opportunities which non-competing males depend on.. and it means women will endure more unwelcome approaches and further harden their defenses against approaches from unskilled men, raising the bar for his entry into the field. If it was hard for a below average guy just going by his natural instincts in opportunistic situations before, it will become even harder for him now.

As for men who do compete, it’s worse for them too. It’s an arms race, and if everybody gets better, than no one has more success. In fact every one is worse off, because they now have to work harder and train more to master a skill to get the same exact returns they would have gotten 10 years ago without the extra time, energy, resources spent on Game.

Whiskey and Rain And make the claim that game is a finite resource, zero-sum, and effective only in relation to the existing male status hierarchy because women ultimately want to bang the top male no matter what system he operates within. This therefore means that the returns on game are inherently self-limiting, as women will simply choose amongst the best gamers in a world full of men who have learned game.

It’s an interesting theoretical conjecture. I say theoretical because the adoption by men of game will never, in practice, reach the point where such theoretical objections carry real world weight. Game requires one necessary ingredient in abundance — balls. And most men simply don’t have the balls to (1) drop their defeatist beliefs and adherence to doctrinaire acquired wisdom and (2) take up the teachings of game and actually approach women in any situation at any time.

But is this zero-sum objection even correct in theory? I believe a case can be made that it is not, and the best way to demonstrate this is through illustration by analogy. Imagine if all the world’s women suddenly turned into 10s overnight. Ask yourselves: Would this

a. increase

b. decrease

c. have no effect on

the aggregate happiness of the world’s men? Does anyone seriously doubt this would not be a paradisiacal wonderland for men everywhere? This is because women’s beauty, at least over the timespan of a few generations before long term evolutionary change had a chance to alter the male mental landscape, is an objectively definable trait in which its supply would increase if the number of 10s increased. Only over the very long haul would men’s preferences gradually shift upward in refinement toward uber 10s — new female creatures would then be born representing 11s, 12s, and super ovarian 20s.

In the same way, this is how game works its magic on women. Male game operates like female beauty. The more of it there is in the world, the happier the world’s women will become. Women will feel the same pleasurable feelings from the first man she meets running tight game and the 1,000th man she meets running tight game. Since women are by nature status whores, over a long enough time as evolution molds their daughters’ brains they will begin to preferentially select the best gamers from among the bunch. And they will go on, as they always have, attempting to land the highest ranking man they can afford given their looks, which means seeking the man who brings the full suite of attractive male power attributes to the table.

[crypto-donation-box]

Random Musing Of The Day

Why is it the biggest engagement rings are always found on the hands of women over 30? Who are these beta schmoes spending a fortune on rings for women with only a few years of primo fuckability left?

Discuss.

[crypto-donation-box]

Predator Sluts

Welcome to the New Whore Order.

The author of a controversial new book says she was so desperate for a baby she got pregnant ‘accidentally on purpose’ in a one-night stand. KATE SPICER admits that – like many women  – she’s played the same dangerous game…

Three weeks ago, I bought a pregnancy test. As a single, childless woman in my late 30s, my exact thoughts while I was waiting for the result were as follows: ‘If I am not pregnant, then good. I’m happy.

Life continues as before. Panic over. If I am pregnant, then that’s terrifying. But thrilling, too. A happy accident that was meant to happen, whether I stay with the father or not.’

If you’ve been a regular reader here, you could see this coming a mile away. Aging careerist shrikes on the cusp of sexual invisibility, like spent fuel rods from years of putting out for pump and dump alphas who wisely chose not to marry these damaged goods, are feeling the pangs of childlessness. Awash in discretionary income and free of the constraints of social shaming, they could afford to avoid dating the provider betas in favor of slutting it up with the same rotation of cads their girlfriends are banging. Oh, the drama was so enticing!

Then she woke up one morning, pressed a hand against her vacant, nearly barren womb, and shuddered in silence as the icy finger of irrelevant spinsterhood sent a shiver down her spine. She had made a mistake.

So what does she do now?

Why, she tries to rope utterly self-interested guys like yours truly into fun-killing fatherhood!

Some of these women approach the task in a far more ruthless manner than Mary Pols did, purposefully going out and sleeping with men when they know they are at their most fertile.

In America, they even have a name for this – they call them ‘gotcha’ pregnancies. Many of the women involved deliberately avoid birth control and have no intention of letting their unwitting bedfellow know this.

Never mind that these succubi claim to have no intention of hitting the guy up for child support. Women, bless their amoral hearts, are known to change their minds on a whim when it suits them. A woman’s slapdash principles and the vast anti-male legal industrial complex are cold comfort for the modern playboy. You must look out for yourself.

How to spot a potential predator slut with designs on the babymaking power of your ball juice?

There ya go. Just look for the crows’ feet, saggy tits, and chest age spots.

The most dangerous woman in the world to sleep with is the childless, unmarried cougar. Their clock is rapidly winding down, their dying eggs are sending out distress signals, and they have no cuckold beta husband upon which to foist a bastard child. Either avoid them like the plague or double up on industrial strength condoms.

Here’s a handy reference guide for precautionary measures to take when banging the childless woman.

  • If she’s under 25, college educated, lives in the city, has had an abortion, spends more than 40% of her take home pay on drinks and clothes, concurrently dates, has slutty girlfriends, and talks about spending a couple years to travel the world:  Skip the condom and enjoy some skin on skin action. Blast inside her, you renegade! Odds are she’s on the pill, and if not, no worries — she’s on a first name basis with her abortionist. Bonus creampie if she’s a lawyer.
  • If she’s 25-30 and all of the above, you had better start being careful where your boys lodge themselves. Use a condom for the first few weeks, then tentatively move to rawdogging. Check if she’s on the pill, but that’s not always a guarantee of child-free bliss. Too many girls — woops! — forget to take it the day you shoot inside her. To avoid this breach of contract, exercise the pull out option. Over the years collecting notches, your timing will become exquisite. You’ll be able to calculate down to the millisecond when you’re about to unload, and pull out at the exact moment you jizz. When you get really good at this, the narrow escape, optimal money shot reposition to her belly, back, or eye, and first stream of jizz will all happen elegantly in one smooth motion, like a hardcore ballet dance — The Nutbuster. It is crucial that you wipe her off with a towel or dirty sock yourself. Don’t leave that responsibility to her. I’ve heard horror stories of girls taking a dollop of the guy’s bellybutton load onto their fingers and inserting it into themselves while he was in the bathroom pissing.
  • If she’s 30-35 and has a stupidly fluffy cat or toy dog, you are sailing into stormy waters. Why you would even bother with this kind of woman is beyond me, but let’s assume for purposes of discussion that she is well-preserved and has a hot body. Not only is this chick desperate to get impregnated, she is also more likely to be loaded down with a petri dish worth of STDs. If you insist on rawdogging it with her and blasting on her belly or back, scrub her down with sperm killing soap afterwards. You can do this by gently cajoling her into the shower after sex. Keep an eye on her hands, making sure they don’t go anywhere near your spooge or her vaj. If you use a condom, dispose of it in the toilet, not the garbage. Remember to flush!
  • If she’s over 35 and without child or husband, you cannot be too careful. Use two of your OWN condoms (pinprick free) and drop them in an incinerator when you’re done. If no incinerator is available, place the used condom in an airtight iron lockbox for disposal at the local landfill or off the side of an ocean liner. If you make a mistake and blast on her belly, vacuum that shit up. Wiping with your underwear isn’t failsafe enough. If you are truly stupid and blast inside her — drop to your knees and start praying to the god of infertility (Jennifer Aniston) while arranging for your accounts to be moved overseas.

Whatever you do, never let a girl dispose of the condom for you. It sounds crazy, but I’ve been with more than one woman who would do just this. She would grab for the soiled condom and say “I’ll take care of that for you.” I was smart enough to know not to trust a woman with my spermed up condom by herself in the bathroom, so I told her she was acting weird, and flushed the condom myself. Fucking nutso broads.

People have asked me: if you don’t want kids why not just get the ol’ snippity snip? If you treasure your glorious package as much as I treasure mine, you’ll understand why I don’t want scalpels anywhere near there.

It’s too bad men don’t have a right to rip unwanted fetuses from the wombs of women who duped them into fatherhood. At the very least, a law predicated on true fairness would allow men to abort their financial responsibility for any child they didn’t agree on having with a predator slut. I won’t be holding my breath for that day to come.

PS: The title of this post is the working title for my coming magnum opus.

[crypto-donation-box]

I get a lot of emails from readers wondering how to “handle” when a woman says she loves you. The question is odd to me, because a woman who is truly in love with you will not suddenly run away if you deviate from the alpha script for half a second. Once you’ve captured a woman’s heart, you’ve got a healthy margin for error. Nonetheless, it is true that, while brief moments of temporary beta regression with a woman who loves you won’t doom your relationship, you have to be careful to avoid slipping into betadom on the regular or there *will* come a time when your woman suddenly loses that little electric zap in her trap for you.

A few thoughts on the matter of a woman saying “I love you”:

  1. NEVER be the first to say “I love you” in a relationship. I don’t care if six months of dating has gone by and you both madly love each other to pieces, you will rob a woman of one of her greatest joys in her life if you tell her you love her before she has told you the same. A woman wants to climb up mountains, crawl across broken glass, and struggle into winds of chaos to reach the emotional peak of falling in love with you. You may think you’re doing right by her to level the mountain, sweep clean the glass, and calm the winds when you announce your love before she has, but you’re not. She will resent you if you do. Of course, she won’t tell you this. But I will.
  2. You don’t have to be cocky all the time. There is a laundry list of great alpha replies to a woman after she says “I love you”: “Cool!”, “I know”, “Thanks!”, “Hey, it’s me!”, *sly grin* “I didn’t ask”, “Naturally”, “So you’ve finally come to terms with it”, “Well, what did you expect?”, “Damn, I’m good”, “Oh boy, now you’ve gone and done it”, “Awesome! Free back rubs!”, “Hobag say dick in yo mouf?”, etc etc. Use these liberally in the beginning of a relationship when they have the most power to set the right tempo. But learn to rely less on them as the relationship deepens. Overuse of cocky game can deaden its positive impact on a woman’s psyche. She will come to see you as a genuine asshole instead of an attractive asshole. After a few months training your girlfriend, you can minimize your cocky game in favor of sincere game.
  3. Sincere game is long haul game. So what do you say to a woman when she says I love you and you want to be serious with her? In my experience, there are three failsafe ways to respond that will send her heart into an ecstatic tailspin for you: (1) Pause for a couple seconds after she has said it, and while gazing intently into her eyes, in a deep, slow voice, say “I love you, too”. Best done without smiling. (2) Say nothing in reply. Instead come close to her face, pause for a few seconds standing before her as if you are about to say something, and slowly pull her lips into yours, kissing her breathless. (3) Tell her I love you too in a foreign language, preferably French, or one of the less well known but still intriguing languages, like Russian.

You should be aware of the possibility that your woman will use I love you like a weapon of war. Sometimes, the more neurotic of the female species will incessantly proclaim their love for you in an attempt to smoke out any beta wishy-washiness or weakness on your part. If you fall into her manufactured drama, pity-poor-me, low self-esteem trap with an endless stream of I love you too’s you will have sealed your fate. Don’t be surprised if the next time you say I love you too she replies “Umm, listen, we need to talk.” The best way to handle a neurotic waif is to ignore 90% of what she says. Just keep replying “That’s great” every time she lavishes attention and love on you. Eventually, even the most dedicated waifs will break. They all have their breaking point. Once she does, you have a love slave for life.

Final note: Don’t be one of those laughable nancyboy beta schmucks who feels the urge to perfunctorily say “Luvya” every fucking time you get off the phone with your girl. It’s pathetically transparent. If the rest of the world can see that, so can your girlfriend. It’s the phone; say your business and save your Luvya’s for those times when they matter. Asking her if she wanted the green or red bell peppers while browsing the veggies in Whole Foods is not one of those times. You’ll feel awkward at first when you stop signing off this way, but believe me your girl will thank you for your principled sincerity.

[crypto-donation-box]

“The Office” Finds Game

If you watched last Thursday’s episode of The Office, you saw Andy use some basic concepts from Game to advise Kevin how to handle a woman he likes. Watch from 3:40 onward.

Naturally, the show follows the usual PC fembot script and ridicules beta Andy for giving horrible advice to omega Kevin, while lesser alpha Jim mocks Andy’s good faith effort with that oh-so-smarmily sly and knowing irony that has become the hallmark of SWPL humor.

Although I’m sure the writers didn’t intend it, Andy is a great example of what happens when an aggressive beta gets his first exposure to game; he doesn’t fully grasp the underlying concepts which leads him to bastardize the tactics. His advice to Kevin to give “backhanded compliments” to the omega woman Kevin wants to date sounds exactly like the caricature of negs that haters of game repeat ad nauseum. Andy’s neg is an insult, not an ambiguous compliment.

Why can’t Hollywood portray Game and the pickup mentality fairly and magnanimously and without going gooey romantic beta and snide alpha in penance for broaching the subject? The answer is simple. It is a great threat to the established order if the vast lumpenbeta of men learn how to seduce women without having to first toil for years as properly submissive company men chained in servility to the corporate machine, or without having to bow and scrape before their feminist and alpha elite masters who would like nothing less than that they continue playing by the rules they themselves so flagrantly violate. And anti-Game serves the interests of natural alpha males quite well as mockery bait with which they can keep the aspiring betas in line and the pool of available alphas small.

Competition may be a wonderful thing in the abstract, but on the individual level it is an enemy to be snuffed out.

By the way, anyone else notice how rapidly Pam is aging? So sad.

[crypto-donation-box]

Newsflash! You can’t trust a woman’s opinion of other women’s looks. (Hi Chic.)

Everyone loves a pretty face – except those women who might see it as a threat. With eyes on the competition, women of childbearing age rate other attractive women consistently lower than women who have entered menopause, according to a new study.

“It’s almost as if they’re putting down other attractive women,” says Benedict Jones, a psychologist at Aberdeen University, UK, who led the study of 97 middle-aged women.

This explains why so many chicks blab on and on about how “womanly”, “handsome”, “confident” or “sexy” older women look. They are downplaying the real competition — pretty young thangs.

***

Appletini goggles.

Even when sober women who drink more are less able to detect male facial asymmetry. So crooked-faced guys should look for female regular drinkers.

Researchers found that women who drink even moderately develop a reduced ability to rate attractiveness in male faces, even when they are sober.

Those who drank were less able to detect male facial symmetry, a marker of attractiveness and good genes which is thought to play an important role in the choice of a partner.

Even 5 drinks per month diminished ability to score facial symmetry. Researcher Kirsten Oinonen at Lakehead University in Thunderbay Ontario expects that women whose minds are altered in this way will find less attractive guys more attractive when their decreased attractiveness is caused by facial asymmetry.

If you’re searching for a wife or husband, stop drinking. Or don’t stop drinking for the rest of your life.

***

Badboys, crime, popularity: Natural born ladykillers.

Genes prompt rabble-rouser behavior. But they also foster popularity, according to Alexandra Burt, a Michigan State University behavioral geneticist who released a “groundbreaking study” that suggests good news for bad boys.

Men who had a gene associated with “rule-breaking behavior” were rated most popular by a group of previously unacquainted peers, she found.

[…]

In August, the University of North Carolina also revealed a link between three particular genes and “a life of crime” after following 1,100 teenage boys over a six-year period, clearly establishing a link between the presence of those genes and aggressive behavior.

Such research has had a darker side. The idea that “bad genes” held dangerous sway over some people prompted the Supreme Court in 1927 to rule in favor of the forced sterilization of criminals and mental patients. The court reversed the decision in 1942 as unconstitutional.

These days, researchers suggest that a touch of bad behavior gives men a boost in popularity and with their sexual relationships. Narcissism, impulsiveness and deceit – the “dark triad” – play a definitive role in wooing, according to separate research conducted by both Mexico State University and Bradley University in 2008.

In a way, Game is a system for mimicking the behaviors of men who possess the “badboy genes”. Readers often wonder if alpha is inborn then how much can learning Game accomplish? A lot. If you don’t have a natural musical talent, you can train for a couple years and still wow girls with a few choice tunes on your Fender Strat. You may not go from 4s to 10s, but you’ll go from 4s to 7s. And for most betas, that is like winning the pussy lottery.

***

Section 8 strikes back.

ANTIOCH, Calif. (AP) – As more and more black renters began moving into this mostly white San Francisco Bay Area suburb a few years ago, neighbors started complaining about loud parties, mean pit bulls, blaring car radios, prostitution, drug dealing and muggings of schoolchildren.

In 2006, as the influx reached its peak, the police department formed a special crime-fighting unit to deal with the complaints, and authorities began cracking down on tenants in federally subsidized housing.

[…]

An increasing number of poor families receiving federal rental assistance have been moving here in recent years, partly because of the housing crisis.

A growing number of landlords were seeking a guaranteed source of revenue in a city hard-hit by foreclosures. They began offering their Antioch homes to low-income tenants in the HUD Section 8 housing program, which pays about two-thirds of every tenant’s rent.

If you are seeking an apartment in DC, here is a handy map I found which will aid you in avoiding blocks that are close to Section 8 housing.

Joseph Villarreal, the housing authority chief, said the problems in Antioch mirror tensions seen nationally when poor renters move into neighborhoods they can afford only with government help.

“One of the goals of the programs is to de-concentrate poverty,” Villarreal said. “There are just some people who don’t want to spend public money that way.”

No shit. Because another way of saying “de-concentrate poverty” is “spread the crime”. Villarreal is one of those leftwing social engineering dickbags I will laugh at when he’s hanging from a lamppost after the glorious revolution against the elitist-driven Campaign of Lies has begun.

***

Slut Pride.

You’ll recall Harvard junior Lena Chen as one of our official compulsive oversharers. She’s a sex blogger whose ex leaked naked pictures of her once. Now, in addition to the sex blog, she’s got a more personal blog intended to correct the fact that Chen is “famous on the internet for all the wrong things.” This makes it the perfect venue for pictures of… well, I’ll just say it: of Chen right after getting “a facial.”

When a culture’s sexual strategy shifts to African-style short term hookups and soft polygamy, proud public displays of sluttiness by women become more commonplace. I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader why this is so.

***

Best Comment Ever in a story about professional b-ball player Marko Jaric marrying Victoria’s Secret model Adriana Lima. (link provided by G Manifesto)

Really??????? He must have a Chocolate penis that ejaculates cash!

And bon bons for balls.

***

Extending the decades of carefree casual sex.

Researchers believe boosting the amount of a naturally forming enzyme in the body could prevent cells dying and so lead to extended, healthier, lifespans.

As I’ve said before, aging should be treated like the cruel horrible disease it is. “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be” is such a ridiculous ego-saving baldfaced lie. It’s the equivalent of saying “Go ahead and get fat, I’ll still love you.”

***

Some people think this is just splendid.

For more than two centuries, it has been a wannabe among the great world capitals. But now, Washington is finally ready for its close-up.

No longer a jumped-up Canberra or, worse, Sacramento, it seems about to emerge as Pyongyang on the Potomac, the undisputed center of national power and influence. As a new president takes over the White House, the United States’ capacity for centralization has arguably never been greater. But it’s neither Barack Obama’s charm nor his intentions that are driving the centrifugal process that’s concentrating authority in the capital city. It’s the unprecedented collapse of rival centers of power.

This is most obvious in economic affairs, an area in which the nation’s great regions have previously enjoyed significant autonomy. But already the dukes of Wall Street and Detroit have submitted their papers to Washington for vassalage. Soon many other industries, from high-tech to agriculture and energy, will become subject to a Kremlin full of special czars. Even the most haughty boyar may have to genuflect to official orthodoxy on everything from social equity to sanctioned science.

At the same time, the notion of decentralized political power — the linchpin of federalism — is unraveling. Today, once proudly independent — even defiant — states, counties and cities sit on the verge of insolvency. New York and California, two megastates, face record deficits. From California to the Carolinas, local potentates with no power to print their own money will be forced to kiss Washington’s ring.

It is decidedly un-American to submit to such a strong, central federal government. It’s been the goal of our Ivy League gentry for the past 50 years to move America away from the American model and towards a socialist European model, finally culminating in a Banana Republic model. Good times!

Americans may still possess what the 19th-century historian Frederick Jackson Turner described as “an antipathy to control,” but lately, they seem willing to submit themselves to an unprecedented dose of it. A financial collapse driven by unrestrained private excess — falling, ironically, on the supposedly anti-Washington Republicans’ watch — seems to have transformed federal government cooking into the new comfort food.

A terrible enervation has infected the souls of Americans. We are surrendering our essence. We are betraying our own principles.

This lowly status stemmed, to some extent, from what the historian James Sterling Young has defined as the “anti-power” ethos of early Americans. The revolutionary generation and its successors loathed the confluence of power and wealth that defined 19th-century London or Paris. A muddy outpost in the woods seemed more appropriate to republican ideals.

We are importing tens of millions of the peasant class from culturally and genetically antagonistic countries who do not possess a natural instinct towards American-style individualism and distrust of government. Our historical “anti-power” ethos is rapidly being replaced in a great demographic tsunami by a “daddy government” ethos. Way to go, guys!

[crypto-donation-box]

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »