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Women Who Have Affairs With Married Men

Jan 22nd, 2009 by

By the Power of Poon I was able to coax a girl into inadvertently revealing her low quality.

Me: [in my best nonjudgemental voice] Sometimes I think people judge us too harshly for the things we do when we are in love. For instance, I’ve had married women fall for me. I didn’t know at the time they were married, but if I knew… who knows, I may not have ended it. It’s hard to walk away from something so right, you know?

Her: I know what you mean.

Me: Have you ever had a torrid taboo fling like that? One that people wouldn’t understand?

Her: I was with this one guy… he was married.

Me: And even though you knew he was married… you knew, right?

Her: Yes, I knew almost from the start.

Me: You fell for him and it was just about you two.

Her: All I could think about was us. It was like he wasn’t even married.

Me: I can relate. It’s about living in the present, and you can’t imagine it not working out. [laying my hand on her forearm] Did his wife know?

Her: No, not at first, but she must have figured it out eventually. I guess, after a while, I felt like it wasn’t going anywhere.

Me: It’s ridiculous, but people think you should feel guilty.

Her: I never felt guilty, just sad that it ended. I left him when it became clear we were stuck in place.

******

When you get involved with a woman who has had affairs with married men, is she:

a. a cheater at heart?

b. a validation whore?

c. someone who will ass rape you in divorce court and spend the lottery alimony on shoes and lingerie to please her new lover?

d. a histrionic drama queen?

e. a good fuck?

f. an Eternal Ingenue?

g. drawn to provider alphas?

h. an entanglement of daddy issues?

i. usually hot?

j. a scheming, conniving cunt?

k. best kept at arm’s length?

l. never satisfied?

m. trainable by dangling carrots and then pulling them away?

n. friendless?

o. a pump and dump candidate?

p. addicted to badboys, challenge, emotional highs and lows, and regular old drugs?

q. more likely to eat bananas lasciviously in public?

r. all of the above?

One thing is for sure, she is a sucker for wedding ring game.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Marriage Is For Chumps, Psy Ops | No Comments »

How Old Is She?

Jan 16th, 2009 by

A woman recently uploaded this photo of herself to Craigslist Rants and Raves (DC edition) asking random strangers on a board renowned for its sadistic cruelty to guess her age. (Craigslist RnR is the new American art form.)

The guesses ranged from 38 to 47. I bet those were not the answers she was hoping for. Had she included her face, it would be an open and shut case. This is a classic example of “I’m not grossly fat like 80% of women my age, so guys will think I’m much younger than I am” female game.

I will now explain why this version of female game fails every time. This is what men immediately notice with just a split second glance:

howoldisshediagram

Veiny, saggy, pendulous boobs held in place by super strength, high tensile, steel reinforced megabra.

Half acre areola spread. (Like the ears and nose, the areolas continue growing with age until they consume the entire breast. See: Old issues of National Geographic.)

Flabby triceps. Shapely upper arms on a woman are like a canary in the coalmine — when they start crapping out the total war of age related destruction is right around the corner.

Undulating ripples of flesh along the obliques. The middle-lower back along the sides is quick to betray the effects of fat accumulation, muscle atrophy, and weakening of the collagen/elastin matrix.

Wrinkly wenis. The back of the elbow is a dead giveaway of the ravages of aging.

Stomach pouch. Where’s the joey?

***

You cannot con the cock. Men have eagle eyes that can spot a woman’s fertile youth from an altitude of 5,000 feet. This is why plastic surgery continues to be such an abysmal failure in this day of rapidly progressing modern capitalistic medicine. The subtle cues of feminine youth and beauty are highly resistant to rejuvenation by the brute force of hatchet, axe, and laser.

To those women who don’t want to believe what I say, think about it like this: As perceptive as you are at ascertaining the betas (sometimes within two seconds before the beta even opens his mouth) from the alphas, we men are just as perceptive, if not moreso, at separating the hot stuff from the has beens.

My goal here isn’t to mindfuck you for my own personal amusement (although that is part of it). I have a larger purpose — to end the dark reign of truth-killing platitudes and feelgood lies of uplift that particularly afflict the weak minds of women and which do nothing to prevent the day of reckoning but do everything to slow progress toward fighting the noble battle against the final judgement. I dream of a world where women remain beautiful for their entire lives, bringing decades upon decades of enjoyment to men like myself for whom beautiful women are one of the great pleasures of life. It is an unholy tragedy that a woman’s bloom should wilt so soon. Aging is a wicked disease, like cancer or Parkinson’s, and must be treated as such. So the next time your older friend asks you if she’s still “got it”, tell her the truth.

“No, your prime years are over. But you’re a wonderful shopping companion.”

You will save her years of roaming the dating wilderness searching fruitlessly for the elusive alpha who would commit to her. Stand tall with pride that you spared the world another deluded mangy cougar. Teach her the valuable lesson of settling.

Ladies, your window is small. Get crackin’!

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Hitting The Wall | Comments Off

Girls Rip Each Other To Shreds Behind Smiles

Jan 15th, 2009 by

I remember this girl I dated when I first moved to DC. She was one of those types that had trouble keeping female friends but collected male orbiters like stinger-less bee drones to honey. Perhaps she incited the jealousy of other women with her brazen sexuality, or perhaps she tried to make friends with women out of her social league. I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care, even though I had to put up with listening to her woeful stories of victimology.

I’ve learned many mythbusting realities about women over the years of loving them, but one of the most disappointing lessons I’ve learned is how threadbare, shallow and tenuous are their friendships with female peers. For all the jabbering they do amongst themselves, the bonds that hold girl friends together are a surprisingly superficial amalgam of Machiavellian maneuvering, parched politesse, feigned sympathy, self-absorbed clucking, and fickle loyalty. It’s as if female friendships exist only to serve the banal purpose of group cohesion and social climbing, in stark contrast with male friendships that can strengthen unencumbered by ulterior motives and which often require nothing more than the tacit assumption of “I’ve got your back”.

One time I took this girl to a party where female friends of mine would be in attendance. (About 1/3 of my friends are women, and 2/3s men. After 5pm, that ratio reverses.) She noticed one of the girls was flirty around me. I agreed that she probably was nursing a long-held #1 crush. Out of earshot, my date then proceeded to call this girl fat, and grabbed my hand to walk with me in front of the girl, ostensibly to provoke seething jealousy. I didn’t appreciate it. This was evidence that my date was a woman of poor character.

Some months later we broke up, and through intermediaries I learned that she had become good friends with the chubby girl she formerly ripped to pieces with a gleam in her eye. I wondered if she knew of her new friend’s less than complimentary opinion of her, or if it was all bitchiness under the bridge.

Gossip is a natural property of human nature and something in which almost everyone, men and women, indulge (though women to a far greater extent than men). It is probably an evolutionary outgrowth of human status hierarchies, and so isn’t going anywhere soon. For that reason, I’m generally bemused if I hear that friends are gossiping about me. It’s all part of doing business as a DNA carrying replicant. Nothing much to get worked up over. But there is a line crossed where gossip becomes corrupted and twisted by resentment and ill will; when it becomes less a feature of human social dynamics than a bug. The caustic whisperings and barely concealed snarls behind phoneyfemme smiles and exaggerated “Hiiiiiiii!!!”s that hit six different musical notes hide a dark, bitter soul. Invariably, it is women who are the shameless practitioners of this viciously psychological ego-feeding art. Occasionally, the poisoned opinions get out there in the ether like slimy tentacles, afflicting every social circle conversation with a brute manipulative face-saving veneer. But most of the time, the vaj vector of dirty gossip is skilled enough to keep her real feelings under wraps.

Not every girl is like this. I have dated girls, bless their hearts of gold, who had nothing but kind words to say about their girl friends behind closed doors. In fact, one of the key indicators that the girl you are dating is girlfriend material worthy of your non-penis time and attention is what she thinks of her friends when she has the opportunity to unload on them. Listen to what she says about her friends when it’s just you and her. This will give you tremendous insight into how she will treat you over the long haul.

To those girls who possess a depth of untarnished loyalty for their friends — in the middle of the night with the shades drawn and no one but the company of your conscience, you know who you are — don’t think for a minute that we men don’t notice your good character. You are a rare catch. Most women have no need for the virtue that makes you stand out…

Integrity.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Girls, The Id Monster, Vanity | No Comments »

A-hole Game: Day 3

Jan 14th, 2009 by

Previously: Asshole Game: Day 1 and Asshole Game: Day 2

Uncaring asshole game will revitalize a flagging relationship and help keep the love strong.

One weeknight around 1 AM I got a frantic call from my girlfriend. She wailed that she had gotten into an accident and needed help. Looking over at my clock and realizing it was six hours until I had to get up for work, I sighed heavily and asked her if the accident was serious. She cried. “Whaat?? I don’t know, yes it’s serious! I don’t know what to do!” I told her to calm down and explain what happened. Between her sobs I could piece together the events. She had driven back from a job and was parallel parking on a street in her neighborhood close to her home, which was about a twenty minute walk from my place. In the process of parking, she had hit the SUV in front of her. Her car, presumably, was sticking out into the street a bit.

A parallel parking “accident”? There was no way I was rousing myself from my comfortable slumber and traipsing out there in the middle of the night to console her for a minor fender bump. How bad can a girl fuck up parallel parking? I thought for a second. My girlfriend was a skittish, uncoordinated driver. Stereotypically female behind the wheel. Yeah, if anyone could turn a parallel park job into a five car pileup it would be her. Then I thought about where she was parked. Her neighborhood was sketchy (i.e not enough SWPLs had moved in yet). If I were a girl, I wouldn’t walk around there at 1 AM. I thought some more.

“Look, just leave your car there and go home. It’s late. Get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow. We’ll check out your car in the morning. Whatever happened, it can’t be that bad, so stop freaking out about it. You just bumped a fender.”

“I can’t just leave it!” She was really crying now. “You have to come! Please, take a look. It’s bad. I don’t like standing out here. It’s dark and there are weirdos walking around. Just help me!”

Fucking Christ. “Don’t make a big fucking production out of this! You bumped your car, it’s not a huge deal to get worked up over. Calm down and just walk home. I’ll be there in the morning.”

“Please come, pleeeeeease!!!”

Annoyed that my sleep was interrupted, and irritated with my girlfriend for spazzing out over nothing, I drove to the scene of the tardishness. She was pacing next to her car, arms crossed, tears running down her face. I examined the car. Holy shit. There was a giant gouge in the right front panel where she had turned the car too early as she was backing up into the empty parking spot. I couldn’t believe someone could cause that much damage from parallel parking, not even a hysterical girl.

“What the hell did you do?!”

She explained that once her car bumped into the SUV up front, instead of doing the logical thing and pulling out to try again, she had freaked out and kept her foot on the gas pedal, trying to force her tiny Toyota into the spot. Result: A deep resale value-killing indentation from her car grinding into the bumper of the SUV. I get exasperated with stupidity, so I gave her the cold, hard stare of contempt.

“Give me the keys.”

I pulled her car forward and parked it in the empty spot without incident.

“I wanted you to come help. I was scared out here.”

I pointed at her house across the street. “You could’ve pulled your car out and parked like a normal human being, and then gone home instead of dragging me out here for nothing. Don’t play these little drama acts with me.”

She looked down at the ground. The streetlight reflected off her tear streaked face. “What will we do about the car now?”

“I don’t know. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” I didn’t offer her to come back to my place. “Try not to think about it and go to sleep.”

The next evening she was at my place, apologetic but also hurt that I didn’t rush to her side like a white knight. I barely paid her feelings any heed. Her pain simply didn’t register. That night, we watched porn and I did her in the ass for the first time. She welcomed my meaty intrusion.

When I told a good friend what had happened, the words he used to describe me were “Grade A schmuck. Complete asshole.” Then he wondered why she was still with me and said I didn’t deserve her.

She and I stayed together for another year. The sex was always available and her pussy moist. She never had a “headache”. She accepted my facials with clocklike regularity. In hindsight, she fit the description of a Neurotic Waif perfectly, with elements of the Eternal Ingenue.

The best Asshole Game is when the assholery comes naturally and effortlessly. What I did was not good by most people’s definition of the good, but there’s no denying it worked. After that incident, she was in love with me more than ever.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Game | No Comments »

A-hole Game: Day 2

Jan 13th, 2009 by

Asshole game with 25 year old foreign girlfriend

Her: I love Indian culture. The dancing, the colorful dresses, the religion…

Me: You love Bollywood? There’s no accounting for taste.

Her: [getting seriously agitated] Shut up! The Indian culture is beautiful.

Me: Hey, there’s an Indian guy who lives down the street. Go knock yourself out. You can get some of his culture long and hard.

Her: You’re an ignorant American. A child. What do you know.

Me: I know you’re being annoying.

Later — pussy dripping sex.

Asshole game with bartender chick

Me: [looking at her new hairstyle with a grimace] What did you do to your hair!?

Her: I got bangs! Jesus, fuck you.

Me: It doesn’t work for me.

Three months later — pussy dripping sex. And free drinks.

Asshole game with heavily tattooed chick in indie club

Me: Hi.

Her: [sighing] Just to let you know up front, I’m not interested.

Me: So you’re not going to introduce me to your cute friend?

Later — no sex, but pride as a man.

Asshole game with girl trying to break up with me in Starbucks

Her: I really think this isn’t going to work. I don’t want to do this anymore. Look at us.

Me: [slouching for maximum aloofness effect] I can read your face. You’re a bad liar. But if this is what you want then go ahead. I gotta admit you’re not easy to be in a relationship with. You’re a fucking pain in the ass.

Her: What’s that supposed to mean?!?

Later — six more months of pussy dripping sex.

***

Note: Never smile when running asshole game. It’ll look like you’re backpedaling.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Game | No Comments »

A-hole Game: Day 1

Jan 12th, 2009 by

This week I will discuss Asshole Game. There is no sugarcoating it; being an asshole works on women, all women, most of the time. Any man who has lived a day in his life and isn’t self-deluded by equalist ideology or chick flic romanticism knows this is true, even those PUA “love gurus” who unctuously sermonize that what women really want are “strong confident men” minus the asshole part. Save your holier-than-thou moralizing and desperate attempts to discredit asshole game by falsely claiming it only appeals to low self esteem girls. We’re going to discuss what works, not what should work.

I’ve written before about how effective asshole game is at attracting and keeping your women in line. If you’ve been in a rut, or you’re having troubles with your girlfriend (almost always instigated by the girl), acting like an asshole is the quickest and most efficient way to set things straight. I was talking about this with a couple friends recently and they agreed that no matter how often they see asshole game work, they still can’t accept the reality of it. I hear this said all the time from friends who have witnessed me using asshole game on a girl: “I can’t believe that works.” No surprise. No man truly wants to believe that soul of a woman was created below.

I’m going to briefly describe a scenario from my own life when I was an asshole with a girl, and what effect it had on her. Use my lessons in your own life and be amazed at the results it gets you. (No, seriously.) In the comments, feel free to offer your own asshole suggestions for how you would have handled the situation I present.

I was six months into a relationship with a pretty au pair (standard MO: ten years younger). She lived outside the city. I was already telling her to “see me on a Tuesday night, because this weekend is tough for me. And you need to research getting your green card.” I said this because secretly I was in hunter mode and wanted the weekend nights to myself for preying on fresh meat. My friends thought I was crazy. “She’s the perfect girlfriend. Why would you fuck that up?” “She’s going to know you’re out at the clubs hitting on girls. She’ll leave you.” That’s all I ever heard from them.

One of those weekend nights I was at a music club with friends, chatting with some goth chicks standing around us. Late in the night, my au pair girlfriend showed up at the club, unexpectedly. She had had her host family drop her off in front of the club at 1 am. I never told her where I would be at, let alone that I was even going out that night. She simply guessed and nailed it. I didn’t see her come in. My friends looked over my shoulder with raised eyebrows as my GF sidled up behind me and put her arms around my waist.

*ASSHOLE ALERT*

I turned around and looked at her without smiling, the disappointment etched onto my face. I remember the thoughts going through my head: “Oh man, I won’t be able to hit on any girls now that she’s here.” I muttered “Hey” and with a hint of annoyance asked her how she got there. I told her to get herself a drink. She never left my side for the rest of the night while I constantly glanced around the room. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of love and worry.

We stayed together for another year. It went on like this for a while: Me keeping a distance to surreptitiously hit on new women, her chasing after me. The sex never faltered. It was always hot and her pussy dripped like a faucet right up until the end.

There are genuine assholes who are loved, and there are spiteful assholes who get nowhere. The difference is crucial.

Uncaring asshole = success with women.

Caring asshole = failure with women.

When women say they don’t fall for assholes, they are thinking of the second kind. A caring asshole comes from a place of bitterness and spite. His assholery is reactive rather than proactive. He is poor at calibrating which women will be responsive to his dick attitude. Caring assholes are crassly insulting and transparently invested in the outcome of their game.

Uncaring assholes are assholes as a consequence of their indifference. It is the aloofness of the man she loves that drives women crazy with obsession*, and that aloofness is manifest as asshole behavior. An uncaring asshole demonstrates clearly in his body language and tone of voice, not to mention his dearth of words, that he could take her or leave her. In the scenario above, my asshole behavior mirrored my feelings perfectly — I really did not want her there by my side that night.

*Why do women love assholes? Quickie answer: Sexy Sons hypothesis.

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Game | No Comments »

No You Don’t Sound Bothered At All

Jan 9th, 2009 by

I got a lot of trackbacks to my post on identifying sluts, and I was able to read the comments from a few of the links. This one was from a Facebook discussion forum:

It’s fun sometimes to listen to people talk, because they’ll broach the subject of slut. I’ll ask them whats their definition? They’ll give me some silly vague definition about women who sleep with lots of men. I have slept with more than 3 dozen (and I have no shame in it) and I remind them of that. Then they will say, but you don’t dress like one! You aren’t a tease! You aren’t a liar!
Haha.

– [removed to protect the guilty]

😯

The accompanying profile pic showed a somewhat attractive girl in her mid 20s. 36+ partners. Saddle up! Here’s something I’d like to remind her: The median number of sex partners for American women is three. You are a cheap, easy lay who has spread for more than ten times the number of cock as the typical woman. Don’t think you can fool the alphas for long by dressing conservatively. Attractive men have enough experience to recognize the subtler slut cues. No self-respecting man who knew of your past would take you seriously as a long term or marriage prospect. A lot of them will fuck you, but that’s not the same thing as winning their commitment. No, you will wind up settling for a grateful beta in your mid 30s, stewing in your resentment and bitterness, wondering why it all ended up like this. On the upside, when you divorce him after two years because he had the gall to discover you cheating, the law will look kindly upon you and your scoured aging vagina and give you half his hard earned money. Plus the house and dog.

I bet she has a masculine digit ratio.

Personally, I prey on girls like this because I know they will put out faster. I’m a huge fan of sluts and when I know I’m dating one I will spend less money on her and push harder and sooner for unlubed anal sex. If I was interested in a relationship, I wouldn’t even think twice about dumping her for a higher value girl with fewer past partners. (Or, more accurately, moving the slut to third string.) Sluts know this is true deep in the crevices of their souls, which is why, despite (or because of) their indignant protestations and transparent sophistry to the contrary, they really do get bothered when called out.

I can hear the lamentations of the cumhounds now.

“Oh, but you write a game blog all about making it easier for men to pick up women. You’ve had way more partners than me. Hypocrite!”

Dear sluts,
Don’t you know it’s different for guys?

It’s important to screen out slutty girls like the one above if you are looking to get married, otherwise you run a higher risk of ending up like this poor beta.

GARDEN CITY, New York: A New York doctor is demanding his estranged wife pay him $US1.5 million ($2.1 million) to compensate him for the kidney he gave her while they were still on good terms.

Richard Batista, 49, said he gave his kidney to Dawnell Batista in June 2001, and she filed for divorce in July 2005.

The couple has three children, aged 8, 11 and 14.

The New York Post reported that Dr Batista was dumped after his wife started seeing a physical therapist she met in 2003 while recovering from a knee injury suffered in karate lessons. “I saved her life and then to be betrayed like this is unfathomable. It’s incomprehensible,” the Post quoted Dr Batista as saying.

“She engaged in an extramarital affair and refused to go to marital counselling and reconciliation.

“She slapped me with divorce papers in the operating room while I was trying to save another patient’s life.”

😈

Like an innocent beta lamb to the slaughter. Funny how people think being a doctor automatically confers alpha status. And then they scoff when I helpfully remind them that women are inherently amoral animals, and thus should never be taken seriously as moral equals. I have your kidney? You saved my life? Big deal, you’re a beta! And the physical therapist got me wet. What did you expect?

This gullible schmo probably thought toiling away for four years in medical school would guarantee him a smooth, happy ride with women. Fool. A few hours spent reading my blog would have better prepared him to avoid the ex-wife ass raping he got.

Squeal like a beta, boy!

[crypto-donation-box]

Posted in Marriage Is For Chumps, Sluts | No Comments »

A Test Of Your Game: The Judging

Jan 8th, 2009 by

Tuesday’s post inspired the commenters to heights of creativity and in-depth analysis matched in erudition only by the rapist-like wit of a femtard invasion (with betaboy lackeys in tow). I enjoyed reading through the suggestions. Bravura performance.

I chose answers that best represented the widely known competing tactics for dealing with girls who cancel dates under the pretext of obviously bullshit excuses. The girl in my story technically did not flake because she cancelled well ahead of the scheduled date time, but the method by which she cancelled was in the same spirit as a flake. How you handle a transparently silly cancellation is similar to how you handle an inconsiderate flake.

Mu’Min wrote:

“No prob, holla when U get clear.”

This is the standard cool cat, emotionally neutral, “no skin off my nose” response. This response, and the “no response” response below, should be the default go-to options for guys who don’t know what they’re doing. It’s better to invest in fundamental, low risk, conservative game than to potentially fuck it up by diversifying into high flying techie game where you are thinking too much and sending some overwrought, try-hard text in reply. Is the cool cat response the best available option given the circumstances in my scenario? Probably not, but you can feel safe using it. Your dignity will remain unscathed. This is the tactic to use when you think she’s telling the truth and you want to seem reasonable and trusting. The downside, as one commenter noted, is that you give tacit compliance to her lame excuse. If you’re concerned about rubberstamping her lies, you’re better off not responding at all.
Grade (Cool Cat Game): B

Various readers wrote:

No response. Ignore her.

Textual silence will at least leave her wondering, however briefly, if you received her text and why you didn’t respond like every other guy she’s pulled this stunt on. Roosh has talked about the effects this has on a girl. If her flake was a reflexive shit test, you can prod her curiosity with the lack of a reply. Then you give yourself an outside chance that she calls you just before the originally scheduled date time to ask if you got her message. This is good because it means she will have complied with your frame. But if she seriously lost all interest after the first meet, then you just saved yourself ten seconds not answering her text.
Grade (No Response Game): A

red wrote:

Wait a few days then send her a message to the effect: ”Hey, you missed out on a really great after dinner orgy. You shoulda been there, the action was awesome. Maybe next time.” Delivered in a straight dead-pan manner. No smiley faces or “lols”.

Cannon’s Canon wrote:

“I’m being sentenced Monday morning so it’s literally now or never”

These fall under the category of humorous, cocky replies. I laughed, but will she? Maybe. Will that mean she calls you for a date reschedule? Not likely.
Grade: C, on a humor curve

Flashman wrote:

“Hmmm…not good. You will have to make this up to me. You will give me a shoulder massage when you see me, so limber up those hands.”

This is an example of the “Still Gaming Her” response. If you don’t want to “NEXT” a girl (and if you’re a beta who hasn’t gotten laid in a while, “nexting” can seem like an awfully frustrating method for retaining your abundance mentality), then you should continue to run game with the intent of rebuilding the attraction that was there when you first met in that grimy bar. Upside: When it works, it works like gangbusters. Downside: It only works on girls who are still interested. Note: The “Still Gaming Her” text should be sent relatively soon after receiving her cancellation text. Otherwise, it will sound weird.
Grade: B-

agnostic wrote:

“That’s disappointing. We can meet on [whatever day], same time, same place. If that doesn’t work for you, we can cancel.”

sk3ptic wrote:

“Something came up I can’t hang with you tomorrow, blah blah blah.”

Similar in function to the “Still Gaming Her” text, the IOD (Indicator of Disinterest) text is an attempt to steal her frame by disqualifying yourself on the follow-up. Catch: Letting a girl know you’re willing to walk works better on girls who haven’t already disqualified themselves with their flaky behavior. Sk3ptic’s suggestion to act as if you never even saw her cancellation text is particularly intriguing as an example of appealing directly to a woman’s emotions and circumventing her logic. Reframing an interaction with a girl does not require logic. It just requires balls. And chicks dig balls; logic… not so much.
Grade: Player’s C

VK wrote:

Send her a multimedia text of a picture of your balls sack then text the words… “suck it”

This is “Nuke the pussy from orbit” text game. We should all do this. The story we could tell our buddies is worth more than the lay.
Grade: A+ if it’s an animated gif

tokyojesusfist wrote:

picking up women has nothing to do with being an alpha.

Grade: Massive Beta

Jay Gatsby wrote:

“don’t call me. I’ll call you when I get back”.

Give or take a week later, send her another text saying “I’m back. Call you later.”

This is Stratego Game. Requires forethougtht and planning. I like it for its bold moves. Something like this could shake a girl back into attraction. Downside: Too many steps to implement.
Grade: B-

Joe T. wrote:

“OK, no problem. Then meet me at the Hilton at 9 on Saturday, I will be giving a”

Jesus_Lizard wrote:

“Sounds good, but where did we meet again?…. Just kidding, how about we”

Ah yes, the dangling penis texts. Keep her wondering what the hell you were going to say. I’ve never tried this, so you’ll have to put in the field work yourselves to judge its effectiveness.
Grade: Incomplete

Kick a Bitch wrote:

“tell her to suck it up… we’re far more important ;)”

Now this is how you romance a girl.
Grade: Love

Will wrote:

“…Yes?”

Will is right that alphas do not send verbose texts. I’ve written about this before; the more laconic you are the better. But I think a lot of readers are making a mistake to assume the girl knows she sent a truncated text. Sometimes you type out a long text, send it, and close your phone without ever realizing it got partitioned into two texts. So the “Yes?” response is likely to confuse her. Which may not be a bad thing.
Grade: B+

Chuck wrote:

“You’re divorced!! Just kidding. That works out great , there’s xyz (make it sound like a big deal) and i was going to tell you I couldn’t make it. We’ll do something another day”

This is a double-barreled DLV. Your ploy to recuse yourself from the cancelled date post-hoc won’t fool her, and you’re offer of a future meetup when she just flaked on you with an insulting excuse is beta.
Grade: F

bds wrote:

“Flake. Rude.”

samuel wrote:

“I don’t know if you’re lying or not, but texting me in this way is bullshit. Cut the crap, make it up to me, and maybe I’ll give you access to my cock.”

You can’t guilt a woman into seeing you again. Women are led around by their emotions. If you make her feel bad for flaking, she’ll associate bad feelings with you. You may think you’re being an asshole, but assholes don’t care enough to feel an obligation to enlighten a girl on her bad manners. Don’t bother with these “calling her out on her BS” texts. They rarely work except on mentally unbalanced girls. I’m not theorizing here. I speak from solid experience. I once spent a couple months experimenting by calling out all the flaky girls I met. I sent about eight “I don’t accept this sort of rudeness” style texts to them when they flaked. Result: Not one of those girls replied.
Grade: D-

el chief wrote:

“gay. you’re buying if we meet up again”

This is a great example of classic old school asshole game. I love it. Short, direct, non-needy and edgy. Downside: It gives off a whiff of emotionally affected annoyance. Won’t work on girls you didn’t leave a strong impression on when you first met, but those it does work on will fuck you right after they buy you that drink.
Grade: A for Alpha Asshole

JAW wrote:

“I’ve got lots of plans over the next couple weeks. Change your plans with your friend to lunch, and I’ll see you at 8 tomorrow.”

Some would say you shouldn’t force a girl to choose between you and her friend, but an alpha would say “fuck that” and lead her to the place he wants her to be. If she’s a highly primative girl, she’ll respond favorably to this angle of attack. Now you’ve got a girl who would flake on her friend to jump your bone.
Grade: Pass and Fail

Rain And wrote:

“My friend’s band is playing again, Sunday the 15th @ xxx. You should check them out.”

Great example of Indirect text game. Don’t acknowledge her cancellation, and don’t forgive her flake by setting up another date. Just drop a hint that you’re cool if she wants to meet you someplace you’ll already be. Upside: You seem detached. Downside: It puts too much of the decision making process in her hands.
Grade: B-

******

What I Did

Ten minutes before the time we were supposed to meet, I sent this:

Hey, good luck.

I knew the excuse she gave was utterly ridiculous bullshit, so I figured the odds of meeting her again had dropped to near zero. But in the off chance that she was telling the truth, (remember, in my story her friend looks depressed. she could have been the one who was dumped), I wanted to keep the channels open for future contact. A brief, emotionally neutral text at the last second was the answer.

Everyone needs to read this comment by stagetwo. He has absolutely nailed the psychology behind the flake and the mental frame you must possess to deal with them.

if you show you assume it’s true, you’re beta: naive.
if you show you assume it’s not true, you’re beta: insecure.

In short, the matter of her veracity is COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT to your response. Think about it. An alpha does not care whether she’s telling the truth. Lying and flaking is all part of the wonderful fabric of femininity. He is, by nature, unmoved by such precocious antics. Stagetwo’s suggestion is either No Response or:

“sure. guess what i just saw: [unrelated observation of mutual interest]”

Grade: Money

Here are a couple more options you can pursue for dealing with flakes and which might work well.

  • Flake first.

Some guys suggest the “Flake First” strategy of literally flaking out on a girl before she has had a chance to flake on you. This takes some serious balls, because most men are too weak and needy to actively blow up a chance to see a girl they like. This strategy would mean going against every instinct in your male psychology. Which is exactly why it could work on chicks like catnip. Give it a whirl. Cancel on the next three girls you schedule dates with. Don’t set up an alternate date. Just text something along the lines of “Hey, hate to say this but I have to cancel because of X. Another time.” Wait a few days. The next time you talk to her to arrange a meet, she’ll be itching to see you.

  • Preselection game.

PUA Savoy has suggested sending this:

no problem, i’ll invite someone else.

“I’m a guy with options” game can blow up in your face if done under duress. You risk sounding spiteful. This type of text game could work well if you had arranged a very casual date to meet up at some event, like a show or dance class. It will have a plausible ring of truth in those cases. But if you had a one on one date at a bar with her and she cancels, then telling her you’ll invite another girl in her place will sound like a face-saving lie. This one needs field testing.

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How To Tell That Being Called A Slut Matters To Girls

Jan 7th, 2009 by

Maxim #77: Women will screech louder the closer your words get to damaging or exposing vulnerabilities in their sexual market value.

Based on the above maxim (and as amply demonstrated by the recent histrionic howling of the jezguzzling automatards shrieking on cue when confronted with my disconcerting words of truth), the top three soulkilling disses, in descending order of female ego destruction:

  • Being called ugly
  • Being called old
  • Being called a slut

Corollary to Maxim #77: Assuming your words aren’t too wide of the mark thus blunting the serrated edge of their slice, the worst insult you can call a woman is “hideously ugly old cougar cumfunneling whore”.*

This has been a public service announcement courtesy of The Hell Matrix From Which You Can Run, But Cannot Escape.

PS The male equivalents are:

  • Being called a loser
  • Being called a coward
  • Being called a fag

*Note that some women, particularly those of the fat, slutty and spinstery variety, will co-opt these words and use them among themselves in a transparently feeble attempt to mute their power to psychologically wound. When you hear women doing this, know that their soft underbellies are turned up for the quick and easy evisceration. “Cunt” is an especially vicious insult that never fails to get under the skin.

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Killer Qualification Line

Jan 6th, 2009 by

If you like to date younger women (and really, what man with options doesn’t?), here is a line that is practically guaranteed to set the right tone should the subject of age difference come up:

“I’ve noticed some women are nervous in the company of older men. It’s like they get intimidated and feel they aren’t good enough. You’re not like that, are you?”

The phrasing of this line implies that you date a lot of younger women, so there is nothing unusual about her being attracted to you. It also assumes your higher value. Play it up by dropping challenges like “I’ve learned that only classy, intelligent women can handle older men.” She will now spend some mental energy proving herself worthy of your interest. You may even want to use this line early on to preempt any future objections by her. Giggity!

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