Four years ago, this esteemed blog laid out in detail the reasons why men can’t be friends with bangable women, and under which conditions male-female friendships could plausibly form and endure.
Men and women simply cannot be friends unless certain conditions are met.
Mutual lack of attraction
This is easy. When there’s no loin burning to get in the way a girl buddy is like a guy buddy, except you can dump on her about your dating troubles and give your opinion of in-season colors without getting laughed at.
[…]
One way attraction, girl to guy
Girls find it easier to keep their sex drives in check, which is why they can retain their sanity while remaining friends with uninterested guys they are attracted to far longer than the reverse scenario. Men who are attracted to their girl buddies cannot stay friends for long without either making a sloppy move and killing the friendship or sacrificing their last ounce of dignity as they go insane from blue balls toxic shock.
[…]
One way attraction, player to girl
There is only one way a single man can be friends with a woman he wants to bang and that’s when his balls are so drained from fucking other women that he feels no testicular pressure to act on his desire. You’ll notice that a typical sexually satisfied alpha has lots of hot girl acquaintances he doesn’t bother gaming because the effort required is not worth the very small marginal increase in pleasure or risk of losing the girls as social proof and as friends.
[…]
The man is married or in a relationship
If you’re looking to be a cool friend to hot chicks without falling victim to the temptation to hit on them, you can acquire this noble virtue on the cheap by shackling your vice within the artificial prison of marriage or exclusive relationships. (Note: The opposite doesn’t work — most men will sleep with a hot married woman given the chance and in spite of the risk.) This is the foolproof method for betas to be relaxed and emotionally stable friends with attractive girls they’d love to bang. They simply tell themselves that they already have a girl waiting for them at home who they love very much or, if they don’t love her, who would be really pissed if they cheated on her, and so the pressure is off. They can therefore rationalize their asexual acquiescence to LJBFdom as a pose of moral rectitude.
[…]
She’s on the internet and you can’t see her in person
Pretty simple trick to be platonic with a chick when she’s a flick on your monitor and a thousand miles away.
As per usual, the Chateau was more right than it knew, and ahead of its time. Recently, a scientific study has confirmed just about every observationally sound assertion put forth in that seminal post.
[T]he possibility remains that this apparently platonic coexistence is merely a façade, an elaborate dance covering up countless sexual impulses bubbling just beneath the surface.
New research suggests that there may be some truth to this possibility—that we may think we’re capable of being “just friends” with members of the opposite sex, but the opportunity (or perceived opportunity) for “romance” is often lurking just around the corner, waiting to pounce at the most inopportune moment. […]
The results suggest large gender differences in how men and women experience opposite-sex friendships. Men were much more attracted to their female friends than vice versa. Men were also more likely than women to think that their opposite-sex friends were attracted to them—a clearly misguided belief. In fact, men’s estimates of how attractive they were to their female friends had virtually nothing to do with how these women actually felt, and almost everything to do with how the men themselves felt—basically, males assumed that any romantic attraction they experienced was mutual, and were blind to the actual level of romantic interest felt by their female friends. Women, too, were blind to the mindset of their opposite-sex friends; because females generally were not attracted to their male friends, they assumed that this lack of attraction was mutual. As a result, men consistently overestimated the level of attraction felt by their female friends and women consistently underestimated the level of attraction felt by their male friends. […]
These results suggest that men, relative to women, have a particularly hard time being “just friends.” What makes these results particularly interesting is that they were found within particular friendships (remember, each participant was only asked about the specific, platonic, friend with whom they entered the lab). This is not just a bit of confirmation for stereotypes about sex-hungry males and naïve females; it is direct proof that two people can experience the exact same relationship in radically different ways. Men seem to see myriad opportunities for romance in their supposedly platonic opposite-sex friendships. The women in these friendships, however, seem to have a completely different orientation—one that is actually platonic.
Science ♥s Heartiste. It feels good being so right so often, but honestly a high “being right to being wrong” ratio isn’t that difficult to achieve as long as you are open to seeing reality for what it is, rather than what you wish it to be. The study’s money quote:
Taken together, these studies suggest that men and women have vastly different views of what it means to be “just friends”—and that these differing views have the potential to lead to trouble. Although women seem to be genuine in their belief that opposite-sex friendships are platonic, men seem unable to turn off their desire for something more. And even though both genders agree overall that attraction between platonic friends is more negative than positive, males are less likely than females to hold this view.
If you were to read nothing in life except this blog, you would be better equipped to successfully navigate the obstacles life throws at you than a feminist or manboob who has read 10,000 cathedral-certified gender studies textbooks at $100 a pop.
Like anyone would be I am flattered by your fascination with me Like any hot blooded woman I have simply wanted an object to crave
– “Uninvited”
Women overestimate, and men underestimate, the impact makeup has on women’s looks. For the majority of women, expertly applied makeup adds half a point to 1 point to their facial attractiveness. A minority benefits from a generous 2 point increase to their beauty ranking. A few very ugly women see no improvement (lipstick on a pig syndrome). And a very few odd-looking catwalk models with angular, bony faces can see incredible leaps of beauty from makeup (and favorable lighting), sometimes on the order of a 4 or 5 point jump up the looks scale.
The average woman, of course, thinks that makeup conceals all her flaws (it doesn’t, particularly flaws arising from asymmetry or masculinized features, such as manjaws) and beautifies her beyond her relative beauty ranking in the general female population. The average man, who, it should be noted, has little experience bedding a lot of pretty women, thinks women won’t look very different in the morning, sans makeup. These neophyte men are often shocked by the difference dim light and eye shadow can play on their perception. Makeup may only grant a one point improvement to women, but one point is serious business on a ten point scale.
Since nearly all women use makeup on a regular or semi-regular basis, the advantage any one woman gets from makeup is that it allows her to stay in the game. Not using makeup is akin to walking into a heated mating environment with curlers in her hair and bits of tissue paper on her freshly popped zits. She’s gotta keep up with the Janeses. Unless she is part of the 1% of women with unearthly natural beauty that shines better without makeup, going out in public without her “face” on is accepting a severe handicap to her SMV.
So makeup does give women a nontrivial boost to their absolute SMV, if not their relative SMV. This matters, because absolute female beauty is more important than relative female beauty for attracting men. A plain jane in a roomful of warpigs will doubtless earn more male attention, but she still won’t be any man’s ideal mate. Men have the golden ratio embedded in their brains, and a less ugly girl is not the same as a pretty girl.
We know makeup has mating value for women, else they wouldn’t spend billions caking themselves in it. But does makeup have less value today than it did in the recent past? Think about the typical woman’s dating life 100 years ago, or even 50 years ago. She lived with her parents until she got married. Long courtships were the norm. She was dropped off at home by her date before the night was out. If there was a morning after, it usually meant wedding nuptials were exchanged the day before. If there was premarital sex, it happened under conditions (read: non-cohabitating) that ensured the woman would still be made up post-coitus.
The effect of this dating system was that men would hardly ever see the women they dated *without* their makeup on. Many a man didn’t see the honest, true woman he was dating/sexing until he put a ring on it. The women of yore benefited from this system that allowed them to avoid “just being themselves” just long enough to entrap entranced men in lifelong servitude.
Fast forward to today. Morning afters happen within weeks, sometimes within hours, of meeting a woman. This means men are seeing women in all their natural glory long before any marital vows are whispered about. That hot babe you wanted to fuck so badly the night before has morphed into a moldy loaf of bread with half her face mashed into a wrinkled mess in your pillow. The illusion shattered, a relationship with this creature has suddenly seemed a lot less inviting.
The power of makeup is not what it used to be, for the simple reason that men are seeing women without their makeup sooner, and more often. This unpainted state of affairs has hit cougars and marginal girls the hardest, for whom makeup is their last salvation from a life of depressing singledom.
Is the denuded woman’s face her worst foe? A good case can be made that a culture stripped of its illusory power of makeup has contributed to falling marriage rates and delayed marriage and men in general not giving a flying fuck about impressing women. Yeah, maybe it’s not a major contributor, (female obesity would claim the corpulent crown as a major contributor), but it could play a role. The story of decivilizing cultures is partly the story of women ousted from their vaunted position in society as sublime muses for men’s hearts.
PS Occasionally a dummy feminist hater (but i repeat myself thricely!) will stroll in this happy cunting ground claiming makeup allows her to fool men that she’s hotter than she is, and to get what she wants from them, even marriage. I always respond that such a claim conveniently overlooks the reality of the morning after. You can dye, but you can’t hide…
A father seeks advice on how to helpfully navigate his daughter past badboy shoals:
My daughter has just turned 16 and has a throng of suitors persuing her (she’s easily a high 8, inherited the best feminine mix of traits from a Chinese mother & white father). However, I have no illusions about the id that lurks within her & it’s susceptibility to aloof assholes.
My question is what can I do as a father to reduce the risk of having some smirking lowlife with tight game (Like Josh Camacho from the latest ‘Chicks Dig Jerks’) ruining my daughter for a legitimately high-status husband or having his bastard whelp become my grandchild.
One word: belittle.
Remember, you are still the ultimate alpha male in her life. The pinnacle of authority. Does the ultimate alpha sweat challenges from upstart alphalings? No. He laughs them off. If you get to feeling that she’s drifting into a crowd of jerks and nah boys, you react like you would if you were her alpha male boyfriend: tease her for her childish taste in men. Tell her, “I think that boy (always use the term “boy”) with the dorky tattoo has a puppy crush on you. He gets so tongue-tied around you. Maybe you can teach him how to speak like an adult?”
If the wigger tool ever winds up at your house, that is your opportunity to humiliate him in front of your daughter with extreme prejudice. You want to plant the seed in your daughter’s head that her asshole suitor is lame, nerdy, stupid, humorless, immature, gullible and, most disparaging, cowardly. She won’t appreciate your intervention, but, like a toddler hearing a new word and repeating it days later after it has sunk in, the slanderous seed will have germinated in her brain and poisoned her puerile love for the prick, eventually driving a hypergamously-lubed wedge between them.
I understand your fear, though, because a daughter succumbing to a worthless layabout’s charms is just about a father’s worst nightmare come true.
My advice to would-be fathers: pray you have all sons. That way if they get their fuck on, you will feel proud instead of panicked.
Email #2
A reader requests break-up advice:
Do you have any suggestions for breaking up with a girlfriend that give you the upper-hand but without being too hurtful to her?
She is of almost a year, a nice girl and pretty sensitive. There’s probably no easy way to do it, but don’t want a rep as a cheater or anything like that. (I’ve already cheated on her anyways but don’t want to be known as that)
Any suggestions would be much appreciated. thanks
It’s (almost) impossible to both initiate a painless break up with a girl and retain the upper hand, if by “upper hand” we mean awesome alpha maleness. As long as she doesn’t want the break-up, she will be hurt, no matter how delicately you deliver the news. The only surefire method for breaking up with a girl that leaves her feeling relieved rather than hurt is to go Full Metal Beta over the course of a few months, until she’s sick of your mewling.
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: [sniffing] Holy Jesus! What is that? What the fuck is that? WHAT IS THAT, PRIVATE BOYFRIEND?
You: Ma,am, a scented poem, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: A scented poem?
You: Ma’am, yes, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: How did it get here?
You: Ma’am, I wrote it for you and watermarked it with my tears of joy.
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Is a scented poem supposed to make me feel better?
You: Ma’am, yes, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Are you thinking I want to have sex with you because of this scented poem?
You: Ma’am, yes, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: And why, Private Boyfriend?
You: Ma’am, because it’s proof that you are my world, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Because you are a disgusting cloying beta, Private Boyfriend, I DO NOT want to have sex with you!
You: Ma’am, yes, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Then why did you try to write this poem for me, Private Boyfriend?
You: Ma’am, because I was seeking your approval, ma’am!
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Because you were seeking my approval… [grabs her phone to show Private Boyfriend all the texts from aspiring suitors]
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Private Boyfriend, you have dishonored yourself and dishonored the male gender. I have tried to drop hints. But I have failed. I have failed because you suddenly decided that supplicating betatude is what I needed, despite all fucking evidence to the contrary. So, from now on, as a show of proof that your way is the way of failure, I want you to read this text conversation I had last night with a man who understands me the way you used to. Notice the part where I thank him for letting me puff on his peter. [shoves phone in Private Boyfriend’s face]
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: Are you feeling ill yet?
You: Ma’am, does this mean we’re broken up, ma’am?
Gunnery Sergeant Hamster: You’re goddamned right this means we’re broken up, maggot!
You: [phew]
This will work, but you sure won’t feel like you left with the upper hand. My suggestion, if you want to dump her using less manipulative tactics while sparing her feelings as best you can, is to tell her that, although you love her in many ways, you never got over your ex-girlfriend, and you recently met her and fell in love again. For whatever reason, girls are more forgiving of rifts caused by the return of an old love you have nursed for years. It hits their romance buttons.
Or just announce that you’re gay.
Email #3
A college student wants to know why the sex is drying up:
I’m a Senior college student who has been in a great relationship for 9 months. The past two months my gf has often not been in the mood. What do i do? getting denied drives me crazy
1. She’s recently gotten in touch with an ex-boyfriend she still likes.
2. She recently met, however innocently, an alpha male who pushed all her buttons.
3. You’re turning Betanese.
4. Some combination of all the above.
Without more info, I can’t tell you which of those explanations is relevant in your case, but the cause of her sexual withdrawal is most likely one of those reasons. My advice: Begin abandonment protocol. Women value men who are mysterious and scarce; your job is to give her that little reminder that you can’t be taken for granted. A calculated disappearing act should do the trick. Double down by being seen by her in the company of other women.
Whatever you do, DO NOT beg for sex, in any manner. Sticking around like an underfed puppy dog waiting on table scraps is a guaranteed way to reduce your attractiveness to zero.
Email #4
Somewhat long-ish reader request to analyze his game:
I went to a bar I never go to in order to see a band I really like tonight. I had a great time, and afterward I was busy talking to a friend and he encouraged me to go talk to some girls. I was drunk, so I felt more confident than usual, but I still couldn’t bring myself to do it since I’m so inexperienced at cold approaches.
Then a girl I haven’t seen much of since high school came up to me. She’s very attractive and thus is very used to guys hitting on her, so I knew if I was going to make it happen I would need tight game. We talked for a few moments, I initiated some physical contact and then I let her wander off to see her friends. My friend gave me a pep talk to go back after it. After getting my mind in the right place and ordering another drink, I wandered upstairs to see if I could locate her.
I went onto the balcony and she was in a large group comprising mostly people I know from high school but haven’t seen in a while. They invited me to join the group. I was a loser in high school, but I feel that I did very well tonight putting up the image that I’m confident and secure in myself. It was probably the alcohol, but it taught me how I should be most of the time.
I was in the group for a while and engaged the different girls individually, knocking each off their pedestal and emitting an aura of dominance. These are the girls that require negs, and I made effective use of them. I was on my game for 95% of the night, but I might have screwed up in the end by showing too much interest in the girl I’m after. To be fair, this is a high-quality girl that requires a flawless performance, and I feel like I would have definitely been successful if it had been someone of lower quality. I was feeling it tonight, but I might have screwed up a bit. I’m inexperienced at this sort of thing but I would have never imagined that I would have been as confident as I was. Regardless of how this situation works out, it’s a building block for my game.
Toward the end, when the girls said they were going to another bar, I attempted to stop the girl I’m after. Since our high school isn’t too far away from where we now attend college and she generally attends high school football games and such since her mother teaches there, I asked her if she’d be at homecoming next weekend (we’ve been out for three years now — we’re both 21). She said she thought it was last week (a definite lie) and started to walk off and said that she would come back to this bar later. I told her to “wait just a goddamn minute” and stomped out my cigarette and followed the group inside. I tapped her on the head from behind but she ignored me.
Her (smoking hot) friend stayed behind as they walked off and engaged me. Conversation goes as follows (using a neg I pulled from a PUA site, possible this one but I can’t remember):
Me: “Is she always like this?”
Her: “What’s she being like?”
Me: “Well, she’s kind of being a bitch. Tell her that it’s not too late to enroll in charm school. I hear that’s making a big comeback.”
Her group left, and I promptly bounced instead of waiting around to see if they’d come back. I have a feeling that they didn’t, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to be the chump that sat around waiting or followed them to the other bar. I got in my car and drove off.
So, how should I proceed from here? I’m hoping her friend gave her my message. I usually don’t get too much into PUA philosophy but it was needed here as I was punching way above my weight. All in all, even if I did fuck up, I did way better than I could have imagined.
I know that it’s preached in PUA circles that if you need advice on how to pursue a girl that you won’t get her, but I’m going to try to play this one out to the end. Can I salvage this?
Don’t depend on a girl’s friends to “deliver” your tight game her. She has to be there in your company, hearing you spit it. If anything, calling her a bitch to her friend is going to make you look weak and insecure as it winds its way through the female grapevine, which is, as if it needed saying, utterly out of your control to influence as an outsider to the group.
I don’t know if it’s salvageable with the girl you really want, but her lying about not knowing the date of the homecoming tells me that she probably thought you were trying to slyly insinuate yourself into her homecoming plans. I don’t think it looks good, because I’m not seeing any signals of interest from her in your retelling of the night’s events. You should mack her friend, instead.
Email #5
A reader asks:
Would definitely appreciate your thoughts or a post on good/funny lines to reopen texting that dies down. Have a great weekend.
A reader wants to know where he dropped the balls:
Hey, I love your website and I have learned a great deal from you. Can you give me your input on something? I’m very confused. I’ll try and keep it short.
I’ve been hanging out with this girl about once every other week for a couple months. We have slept in the same bed multiple times (no sex…every time I go for her pussy, she pushes my hand away.) we have made out, spooned, messed around, pretty much everything except sex.
She invited me over and she cooked dinner for me a little over a week ago and we always split the bill when we go out.
At dinner she told me she gave her ex a second chance, but he never changed and is the same person so she is done for good with him. And she went to the fair with some guy that puked on the ride with her, and she has been ignoring him since Then she asks me if I have met any cute girls lately (shit test?).
I texted her Sunday night and she never replied. I haven’t talked to her since she made me dinner over a week ago.
When I first met her I was a huge dick to her, buying everyone drinks except her, etc. She was really into me. But I have started being nicer to her lately and I think that is why she is losing attraction for me. Her last Facebook status said “It seems that I have a thing for men who are from Scotland, Ireland, and London… Maybe I wasn’t meant to live in the U.S. because I can’t seem to find a guy that compares to men from Europe.” Her ex is Scottish.
Tell me where I went wrong here, was it because I turned down the asshole vibe?
You, sir, are a train wreck, and your spilled cargo is a debris field of beta. First, NEVER platonically sleep in the same bed with a girl you desire. The bed is sacred. The bed is enthroned. The bed is where your kingship is ratified. The bed is where the penis meets the vagina. Or at least some orifice that is a reasonable facsimile of the vagina.
Multiple times you have lain next to her in bed, your balls filled with unexpectorated sperms? Multiple times she has pushed your hand away, taunting you like a cat might paw at an injured mouse before delivering the killing bite? On top of all this slander to your manhood, she casually regales you over dinner with tales of the ex-boyfriend she obviously still loves? (Don’t let her precise words to the contrary fool you; a woman who mentions an old lover out of the blue still pines for him.) And finally, the shiv strikes soft underbelly when she asks if you’ve found yourself a nice girl.
Can’t you see what’s going on here? I’ll just cut to the chase. You are the classic betaboy emotional tampon. An asexual lump who listens like a champ, restrains his sexual urges with stoic mastery, and feeds her need for self-esteem.
She has never “seen you that way”. Something happened over that last dinner that scared her away. Probably you said something which revealed a hint of your animal desire for her, something which crossed the invisible line demarcating the friendship zone she thought was operational, that jolted her comfy world where the two of you are cute little cartoon friends without sexual organs who talk girl stuff all the day and night, and with whom she can unload her issues she has with jerks who know how to make her pussy quake.
My final judgment: lost cause. Excise her from your life like she’s a tumor, because that’s exactly what she is, an emotional tumor sucking nutrients from the manlier portions of your viscera. Yes, you most likely blew it when you turned to the Nice Side, somewhere between the time you stopped gunning for her pussy to instead “hang out” in perpetuity, and the time you voluntarily bedded with her without the usual payoff that most men expect from such intimate arrangement. Accompany an alpha male friend to hit on girls, to help get your head screwed on right.
A book in the genre of “historical fiction”, (meaning, I suppose, that the authoress did some casual researching of the time period she’s writing about before letting her hamster roam wild and free), is a great example of literature as female porn. From the book description (h/t Randall Parker):
For as long as Arienh can remember, her Celtic people have feared the deadly Viking raids. She knows their brutality first hand, having lost the men from her own family and village to their swords. When she encounters and wounds a Viking warrior one stormy night, she has every right to want him dead. Instead, she allows him shelter in her cottage. Although she fears him, his confidence and teasing manner give her pause. He acts as if she belongs to him. As if he knows her.
Ronan didn’t expect Arienh to recognize him. Why should she? They were both just children when his uncle forced him into a raid against her village. But Ronan risked his life to protect the young Arienh from his marauding kinsmen. Now that the time has come for Ronan and the other warriors to choose wives, he has returned to claim the beautiful girl who captured his heart so long ago.
But for men accustomed simply to taking what they want, wooing the courageous, headstrong Celtic women is easier said than done. And for Arienh, who always sacrificed her own happiness for the sake of her people, trusting—and loving—a Northman may be impossible. By turns poignant and humorous, Loki’s Daughters is a stirring tale of unlikely lovers, forged in dangerously opposite worlds yet bound together by sacrifice, strength, and undeniable passion.
If you listen closely to a woman — very closely, to the subtext between the lines, and to the details that trickle from her when she’s giving her inner voice an unrestricted outlet for expression — you will catch glimpses of the true nature of her sexuality. Fleeting shadows of raw desire that flit in and out of awareness, both hers and yours. Invariably these subconscious resurrections all point in one direction — women love to be seduced by dominant men. They dream of submitting to entitled men who confidently claim rights to their quarry. The brutality of Viking violence yields to the mind capture of Viking game, apparently, in the minds of women of the vanquished tribe. This pattern — of women of defeated tribes quickly acquiescing to the rulership and the sexual privilege of the conquering men who slew the women’s brothers and fathers and husbands — is seen all over the world, and has likely evolved to preserve the female reproductive prerogative.
In other words, treacherous disloyalty of convenience is an inseparable part of female psychology. It is bred in her nature, and appeals to logic will do nothing to dislodge or amend it. The only god woman obeys is the god of WINNING.
Randall asks:
Have you considered writing some of these books? You might be able to get rich off it. You could push more female buttons per page than the average woman writer manages.
It’s a good question why more men don’t write romantic pulp fiction (aka female porn) for profit, under a female pseudonym if necessary. I guess men aspire to greater accomplishments in life.
So I’m 18. Chick. Lost my virginity at 15. So. Basically. I’m hot. I found your writing by googling why girls are sluts and now I’m addicted to your site and it’s so interesting but confusing for me. I’m 100% cliche in wanting the passionate bad boy that’ll leave marks on me- and if I flash and ride so many cocks, he’s only going to want me during the next couple years because he’ll sense I’m great in bed? Even though I already get hit on, is he already thinking that? Does that mean I’ll never be able to date him or something close to him?
Should I settle for a guy that’s not quite up to my standards and date him to avoid becoming a slut so I’ll get someone up to my standards later because guys don’t want sluts(right?)?
xoxxx
—
I don’t care if this goes up on your site but if you’re going to slyly insult me I’d rather you not do it publicly. I’m already embarrassed enough. Hahahaha. Oh what the fuck I don’t care. It’ll be hilarious.
Why would you think your question qualifies for a sly insult? Your suspicions are misplaced.
Anyhow, first we have to be sure we’re on the same page, definitionally. A slut is not a girl who has a lot of kinky, exploratory sex with one man she adores. No, that is called a perfect woman. A slut is a girl who has sex with a lot of different men. A slut is sexually promiscuous, not necessarily sexually voracious, (although the two do often go tingle-in-tingle). A faithful woman to her lover who would never look at another man desirously can be sexually adventurous with him and him alone, (although extraordinarily faithful women tend to have enervated sex drives that dampen their enthusiasm for cheating).
The strength of a woman’s fidelity depends in equal measure on her own self-control and her man’s ability to stoke her desire.
So which are you? Do you crave sexual experiences with numerous men? Do you fantasize about raunchy sex every time you’re in the presence of a new badboy? Or do you want to find that one badboy lover who will make an honest woman of you, and settle into monogamous bliss punctuated by occasional forays into mutual public sex and auto-asphyxiation?
I can’t read your mind or your hamster’s mind, but I can tell you that losing your virginity at the relatively young age of 15, plus your self-professed hotness and desire to be marked by aggressive sex, are leading indicators you are headed for a good ten to fifteen years of hopping on and off the cock carousel, which will, in the long run, hurt your chances to marry a high quality man once your window of exquisite attractiveness has closed.
However, you are self-aware enough to come to this site and ask about the negative effects that sluttery may have on your mating prospects, so that weighs in favor of you making smarter choices than most young women with your suite of psychological and physical traits.
Here is my final judgment:
1. If you are extremely hot — top 5-10% of female looks — you can get away with a bit of real sluttery without hurting your chances to extract commitment from alpha male badboys in your prime, or from beta male providers in your sub-prime. This is because extreme female beauty tends to override all other considerations in a man’s mind of what qualifies a woman as a good relationship prospect.
2. Your sexual voracity, enthusiasm and expertise in bed will not be much of a self-incriminating slut tell. A woman who unleashes in the sack could be a slut, or she could be a woman who lusts for her man so badly that she loses all her inhibitions in the firm grip of his arms and cock.
3. Don’t jump into bed with the first badboy who shows you interest. Act coy, which means in practice act like you are working hard to conceal your lust for him, and when the moment is right for you, you will accept his ravagings. Since you are 18 and still aglow with high school perspective, I suggest waiting a good six weeks or more before putting out. This will weed out the badboys who will use you like tissue paper from the badboys who will put up a satisfying fight before acceding to a longer-term commitment. If you are as hot as you say you are, you won’t have much trouble keeping a man interested in pursuing you despite his burgeoning blue balls.
4. Don’t give him a blowjob the first time you have sex. Wild, skilled sex is not a giveaway that a woman is a promiscuous slut. But an expert blowjob definitely is a slut giveaway. No man will subtract points from your girlfriend potential score if you give good sex, but most men will add points to your slut score if you know how to polish a knob, especially on the first date. With that in mind, I suggest you wait a month or two before going down on him, and when you do eventually navigate your mouth to his staff of surliness to pretend that you don’t know what you’re doing down there, (but you’re a quick learner).
5. Don’t settle for a guy who’s not up to your standards, at least not while you’re in your fertile prime. (Save the settling for later, when the wall is peeking over the horizon and you’re starting to notice the female competition getting younger.) No good can come from being in a self-sacrificial relationship with a man you don’t, or can’t, love. Dating a beta male won’t stop you from being a slut; in fact, the opposite is more likely to happen — you’ll be so unfulfilled in your relationship that you’ll feel a stronger urge to step out on it. And then once you acquire that cheating whore reputation… game over, maa’aam. GAME OVER.
6. Dating down is only for women who don’t have the option to date up. If you can still date up (and at 18 you are in the best position in your life you will ever be to maximally date up), you should. Settling when you have no reason to settle will only engender resentment against the man or men caught in your weird self-abnegation loop.
7. Try, however hard it may be, to avoid screwing a lot of men like you’re a pigs-in-a-blanket taste tester for a king worried about poisoning. It’s for your own good. Men who have options — that is, desirable men, alpha males, men women love — can tell which women have slutted it up with an impressive assortment of men. Experience with women tends to hone our ability to discern soulkilled sluts from unstained sweethearts. The eyes tell the tale: I have never met a slut who didn’t have those creepy, dead, black orbs for eyes. The voice, too, gives it away. Sluts tend to speak with the monotonic cadence of men, growly and inappropriately assertive, like someone who has long nursed a chip on the shoulder. The spark of life is extinguished in the hardcore slut, and one thing men love about women is their carefree joie de vivre. Sluttiness kills joie de vivre dead. Keep that in mind.
[W]hile i’m on the subject of [Neil] Strauss: he’s a metrosexual who comes across like a slimy worm. These are exactly the kinds of men who are inheriting the high positions in our society. See also: Obama.
I don’t know if Strauss comes across like a slimy worm, having never met him, but if video and pictures are accurate he does dress and comport himself with an urbane flair that violates traditional manly men norms. Strauss’ success with women using game and a deep understanding of female psychology reminds me of a quote from the anti-feminist prophet, Anthony Ludovici:
Among the vices of woman, “constantly characteristic of her,” [Ludovici] enumerates “(1) Duplicity and an indifference to truth; (2) Lack of Taste; (3) Vulgarity; (4) Love of petty power; (5) Vanity; and (6) Sensuality.”
If manly men want to know why unmanly men can outscore them in the sexual market sweepstakes, they need look no further than Ludovici’s stunning insight into the character of woman. The unmanly man, no leader of men he, can reduce women to puddles of swoonage because he drinks from their bottomless well of vanity, he lies to them prettily, he trades in the currency of sensuality, and, most importantly, he appeals to women’s “love of petty power” by exploiting relative social status differentials in microcosm. He is, in short, a leader of women.
This is how the manly men are outgunned. The manly man’s refusal, born of pride or disgust, to sink into the insufferable torments of the child-like, capricious, feckless world of women and frolic in it as if it were his own world leaves him exposed atop his hill, strong and dignified and self-righteous, to the cunning shamelessness of the unmanly man absconding with the women languishing under his paternal gaze.
Our current time — the decadence and silliness preceding the painful fall — is perfectly suited to the strengths of the unmanly man. He rules in this nebulous miasma that was once a culture. The manly men will have their day again, when the fall has swept away the last illusion and the weak are revealed uncompromisingly for what they have always been, but until then the manly men yield to the awesome power of the metrosexual with a nasally voice and a penchant for spinning riveting stories which may or may not be true.
It is one of the saddest facts of life that you only get to bang hot girls once your ability to appreciate them has decreased.
For health and longevity reasons, I have decided to try and be less cynical about humanity, or at least to welcome a bout of deliberate self-delusion once in a while as a soul restorative. But it’s hard… so very hard. The cold fish of reality never stops slapping one in the face.
It occurs to me and the other occasional writers here at Le Chateau that a proper show of gratitude was not forthcoming for those readers who generously donated to the Chateau Heartiste coffer. How utterly gauche!So to make amends:
The hedonistic treadmill concept says you’ll get reduced satisfaction from expanded consumption as you adjust to it. You won’t appreciate a Ferrari if you drive one everyday and the same applies to a steak dinner.
When I’m on a winning streak with girls, I feel they all get less hot. I find myself turning my head less often. I see pictures of girls that I thought were flawless and I see flaws. I find myself thinking about other areas of my life. Conversely, when I’m not longer with a girl, and I go into a slump, I find my ex was hotter than I remember.
Girls can definitely tell when a guy is not impressed. I read football practice is often harder than the real game. I’m not sure we’ve invented a way to expose normal guys to beautiful women the same way that Tom Brady and Brad Pitt are exposed. Strippers, porn, movies, etc don’t work since they all work to raise the woman on the pedestal. [ed: correct. there’s good exposure and self-limiting exposure. alpha males are exposed to women’s desire. johns and gawkers are exposed to women’s mercenary indifference.]
I’m thinking a picture gallery of women as they age, or a picture gallery of models without makeup might be a good start.
Definitely something to this. While filet mignon will always taste better than ground chuck, and a hot girl will always be a better lay than an ugly girl, the pleasure that can be extracted from the tastier choices will, with enough familiarity and dopamine receptor scorching, succumb to diminishing returns. (Although it will never bottom out as low as the scant pleasure one receives from cheap cuts of meat or girls.)
The blowback from dopamine-blasted beauty immunity is that all women, even the ones you aren’t fucking, start to seem less desirable, or at least less worthy of sustained effort to earn their interest. And this is how ecologically self-perpetuating alpha males are made:
Maxim #12: The cumulative experience with hot women imbues the womanizer with a genuinely aloof aura that attracts even more women to him.
Corollary to Maxim #12: If you don’t have an adequate amount of aloofness-inducing experience with hot women, act like you do.
Think about when you were, or how you are now, comfortably ensconced in a secure relationship with a girl. Objectively, she’s cute. When you first saw her, your heart leapt upward in sync with your cock.
But damn if you don’t espy
that as the days tick by
your wandering eye
roves wide as the sky.
In graphical form, this is known as the Beauty Power Law, and it looks like this:
Beauty immunity is real, and it affects every man, relative to his beauty capture starting point. That is, a low value man will quickly tire of low value women if he manages long-term relationships (or long-term consecutive hook-ups) with those low value women he fears he is fated to match. He will still want hot chicks, but the additive experience with unattractive chicks will create in him an aloofness toward all unattractive chicks that is similar in psychological composition to the aloofness a high value man will feel for the hot chicks he routinely bangs and even the ones he hasn’t banged.
THIS IS A GOOD THING. That aloofness is catnip to women. You may as well prop a neon sign over your head that says “Preselected by women who have come before you, and who are standing right next to you.” Aloofness is one of those male characteristics that women are finely tuned to discover, isolate, and hone in on, because it tells them, subconsciously of course, that THIS MAN, this one right here, has a lot of choice in women. ERGO, this man, this one right here, must be high value.
I can attest to the tangible effects of the beauty immunity power law. When I’m in a solid relationship, or when I’m on a hot streak dating multiple concurrent or consecutive women, then all women in general start to feel more approachable, less insurmountable (heh), and, tragically, less tolerable. The effect of familiarity with females and their foggy furrows is a steady glazing of my perception of their beauty, until they seem as if their faces are an indistinguishable mass of downy cotton balls. Worse, the tolerance, even enthusiasm, I would have just talking and spending idle time with women yields more frequently and submissively to competing distractions, like reading alone, hanging with buds, pursuing hobbies, or elevating my status for a potential trading-up of lovers. Her charming little tics I loved during the first few months soon become swarms of buzzing annoyances, and my mind begins the unstoppable drift to ELSEWHERE.
THIS IS A BAD THING. That transcendental stirring rocketing up from the groin and ricocheting off the sternum when you first set your post-pubertal eyes on hot high school girls weakens in proportion to your success bedding them. The bloom on the rose wilts with too much fertilizer.
But enough of that sentiment. The fact remains that inuring yourself to beautiful women, and to beauty itself, will make you a more lethal ladykiller.
So how do you expose yourself, as the reader suggested, to beautiful women such that they hold less power over your faculties and their flaws are more evident to your senses?
1. Bed a lot of them.
Guaranteed to work, and that’s why it’s the most difficult solution to the beauty immunity puzzle.
2. Train your mind away from pedestalization of female beauty.
The man who trains his mind to subdue the reward centers of his brain when reflecting upon a beautiful female face will magically transform his interactions with women. His apprehension and self-consciousness will melt away, paving the path for more honest and self-possessed interactions with the objects of his desire. This is one reason why the greatest lotharios drown in more love than they can handle — through positive experiences with so many beautiful women they lose their awe of beauty and, in turn, their powerlessness under its spell. It will help you acquire the right frame of mind to stop using the words hot, cute, gorgeous, or beautiful to describe girls who turn you on. Instead, say to yourself “she’s interesting” or “she might be worth getting to know”. Never compliment a girl on her looks, especially not a girl you aren’t fucking. Turn off that part of your brain that wants to put them on pedestals. Further advanced training to reach this state of unawed Zen transcendence is to sleep with many MANY attractive women (try to avoid sleeping with a lot of ugly women if you don’t want to regress). Soon, a Jedi lover you will be.
Starting today, stop flattering women’s looks, whether out loud or in your head.
3. Get into a line of work where you are ordering beautiful women to do your bidding.
If you can’t get sex with hot babes, the next best thing is authority. Fashion photographers are not known as casanovas for nothing.
4. Hang out with hot girls when they’re wasted and pissing themselves and vomiting.
This is a pretty good cure for one-itis. Don’t worry about supply. America is churning them out like cheap factory products lately.
5. Never stop macking.
The life of the lady’s man is always in forward motion. The day you slow down is the day you start misremembering your ex as hotter than she really was. By keeping women forever in your orbit, by hitting on them day and night and year after year, with intention or without, you remind yourself of the corporeal, earthly nature of women’s greatest asset, of their insufferable and dispiriting interchangeability, and your heart is steeled for the endless battle.
A new website, hetexted.com, is a gold mine of confirmation for the validity of game concepts. Girls post screenshots of their text conversations with men they like (or in some cases, don’t like) and ask the studio audience what it all means. The readers then vote on whether the guy in the text messaging conversation is into her, not into her, or the verdict is still out.
Ever wonder what kinds of guys make girls go crazy with anxiety, desire and romantic hopefulness? Wonder no more. It’s those “bring the movies” aloof assholes. A perusal of the Hetexted website, and its overwhelming majority of text convos that feature laconic men and needy women, pretty quickly proves the old maxim that chicks dig inscrutable jerks, or at least chicks dig guys who don’t fail the Jumbotron test. The hilarity of girls falling over themselves trying to ascertain how much love this or that guy who wrote a “nah” or an “aweee” or a “bring the iphone car charger” has for them is fun the whole family can enjoy.
Even better are the site’s readers pleading with the girls who submit their badboys’ hieroglyphic texts for public decoding that the guy in question is “playing a game” and is “no good for her”, which naturally is only going to serve to deepen the girls’ infatuations.
(It’s funny that, compared to men who only need to look at a woman to know if they’d like to date her, women need a team of advisors to tell her whether a guy is worth fretting about. It’s almost as if women have sexual impulses at odds with what they claim they desire. Wait… they do!)
For a sterling example of the Jerkboy Jumbotron genre, check out this one. (Girl’s replies are on the right.)
Underneath the screenshot, she wails her plaintive plea.
…SO NOW I’M WONDERING?
ok so…i like REALLY like this guy. we have a great connection, and i’m really falling for him. i really want to get to know him better but he is always so busy with work and lives thirty three miles away. should i move closer?? i think this could really work out but i dont want to move all the way out there and have my heart broken. thoughts??
“Great connection.” “I’m really falling for him.” “I want to get to know him better.” “Should I move closer?” “I think this could really work out…”
Nah.
And with that, another ten thousand niceguy, date-paying, considerate, chivalrous, white knighting, hard-working, emotionally available, respectful, attentive beta males face-palmed.
Moral of the Hetexted website: Do not chase girls. Make girls chase you. It’s the only way to be sure you’ll get the lay.
One tried and true method to make a girl chase you is to speak (and text) in mysterious monosyllabic code, to avoid early emotional entanglement, and to act like there are another twenty women lined up outside the door to service your autocratic cunt carver. In other words, to do the exact opposite of everything feminists, women in general, and your mom tell you to do.
Perhaps Bring the Movies Man, Skittles Man, and Nah Man should get together for a book reading of their collected wisdom. It will be precisely three words long. Afterwards, the flush-faced girls in attendance will spend three hours dissecting those three words and shifting inconspicuously in their seats.
I don't disagree, but that problem of direct accountability to parents is partly a consequence of large populations, partly the result of a regime of gatekeeping credentialism that favors the hiring of leftoids and of System enforcers.
Most parents won't be able to afford private schools, and tax credits to finance scholarships are just another form of government-run schooling.
The solution is to put government back in the hands of ethnonationalist Whites, and to incorporate a national plan to reduce school sizes and geographic coverage so that the number of accountability steps between teachers and administrators and parents is minimized.
Step 1: Hate White people Step 2: Facilitate the mass invasion of nonwhites Step 3: Crime and fear spread Step 4: "Solve" crime and fear with Big Brother surveillance Step 5: Repurpose omnipresent surveillance to intimidate Whites rejecting Steps 1 through 4. Step 6: Enjoy panopticon domination of the entire White race
Male "domestic violence" is what grabs headlines. What flies under the radar is the form of abuse preferred by women: emotional manipulation.
This disparity in coverage exists because the System is inherently anti-male (and has been for decades), while the System's megaphone outlets are increasingly staffed and overseen by sociopathic wahms.
Conservative Inc'ers are crowing that "wokeness" has been defeated, because no one talks about it anymore. We won!
Nope, we didn't win. We continue losing. Badly. The media may have hit the brakes a little on its "woke" agitprop, giving the impression of a rollback, but the reality is that anti-White dreck marches on, polluting everything in our cultural space.
TV and movies are still brimming with interracial rutting, mystery frizzbomb children, and rampant normalized faggotry. It's just that now it seeps into your subconscious insidiously, rather than getting chaperoned there by media apparatchiks.
The only difference between the stranger creepily staring at you every day on the train or bus, and the Flock cameras recording your every moment is that you can't see the human staring at your Flock dossier.
This layer of opacity between creepiness and human face explains why so many people are cavalier about the Flock spying network. They could get over their indifference quickly if they practice visualizing the feds, faggots, yids, and nerdos retrieving the data streams at the other end of the Flock camera.
Comment Of The Week
Oct 18th, 2012 by Heartiste
The Man Who Was…. opines:
For health and longevity reasons, I have decided to try and be less cynical about humanity, or at least to welcome a bout of deliberate self-delusion once in a while as a soul restorative. But it’s hard… so very hard. The cold fish of reality never stops slapping one in the face.
Posted in Comment Winners | 202 Comments »