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The Problem With Single Women Having The Vote

Oct 4th, 2012 by

When you don’t have an alpha male in your personal life to admire and rely on for support (partly because you make your own money and don’t feel a pressing need to have a middle class compliment&cuddle herb around for security), you turn to the next facsimile — the substitute alpha male who promises limitless resources for you and your future sprogling. This substitute alpha male is The State, and its shaman emissary is Obama.

Don’t believe me? Check the polls.

If President Barack Obama wins a second term, he may have to thank all the single ladies: A new poll out Wednesday shows Obama crushing Mitt Romney among unmarried women by a lopsided 60%-31% margin. […]

The Quinnipiac survey found Romney up 54%-35% among married men and 49%-42% among married women. Obama led 47%-38% among single men and  60%-31% among single women.

Single women are bankrupting this country. And they don’t give a shit, as long as they get theirs, which includes tingles.

Marriage does seem to be at least a partial cure, but with overall marriage rates falling, and age of first marriage delayed, it’s likely the Gimmedat Party will soon demographically overwhelm national elections and put the “opposition” into permanent minority status. Couple this trend with the Mexodus where 2/3rds of all Amerindian migrants — and that’s a lot of them now – will vote for Gimmedats no matter what, and you are looking at a recipe for stark, self-interested regionalism and possible secession, coming soon to a deteriorating bread and circus pledge drive near you.

But, cheers, at least you got the latest comparatively advantaged, slave-labor iPhone and some cheap chalupas!

Related, Whiskey left a pretty good comment over at Sailer’s:

I wish immigration WAS a deciding factor for how Whites vote, but it just isn’t. White women don’t get harmed by it, there’s all those immigrant kids to teach, NGO-mind, and status monger over. Who taught me that?

STEVE SAILER.

The marginal vote gained by emphasizing immigration loses two (female) votes; Romney is a numbers guy, its why he emphasized it but not much on the GOP trail, and not at all tonight.

Does anyone think the undecided are going to vote for a guy who wants to deport illegals? Really? When those voters are overwhelmingly White and female? And single?

As Steve pointed out, the declining White share of the vote makes bigger White proportions mandatory for winning. If Romney wants to win, he has to get more than McCain’s 60% of the White vote. That means WOMEN. Since Obama took White single women by over 70%, and has an edge over abortion, contraception, paying for it, female preferences, culture wars, and the like. Romney can’t win them but he can cut say that percentage down by 10%.

And in office he can without fanfare on the margins increase deportations, fines for employing illegals (hit Chipotle hard), and the like. Marginal changes are all we have got, because Whites are smaller percentages of voters.

Do any of you know any actual women? They despise to a woman social conservatism, and anti-immigration measures like deportation as “cruel” and reactionary. Pandering to them is necessary. I’d rather have less bad than awful.

Whiskey is onto something. I swim among single women — mostly white, mostly educated and/or intelligent, in their 20s and 30s — and I can assure you they have a rock hard clit boner for Obama and leftie policies in general. Romney may as well be the anti-Christ when he’s not some buffoon at whom they happily lob insipid snark bombs. I can count on three fingers the number of unmarried girls I know who aren’t reflexively pro-O-face. And even among those women who might have some sympathies for anti-Gimmedat viewpoints, any hint that you were against eternally welcoming open borders to the third world would send them spinning into point and sputter orbit.

This is the reality we live in. It’s status whoring and self-righteous hypocritical white girl preening all the way down. The people have suckled on the Big Daddy Government teat for too long, and they ain’t giving it up. Single women are the worst teat sucklers because it is in the nature of women, before they have had their estrogenic rocket fuel burned out of them by marriage and children, to extract as many resources from the tribe’s public pot as they can manage, and to dispense as much of the public till to sympathetic groups in a showy self-annihilation of pathological altruism.

And men, the majority of them generally being weak-willed betas all too happy to dance to young babes’ tunes, have neither the balls nor the heart to call them out for their vapid politics. Many white men are so manboobed they actually yearn for their dispossession, both demographically and politically, like some cuckold fetishist lubing his palm with his salty tears and pulling forlornly at his purple pud in the corner as he gets psychologically ass-rammed by his gleeful tormentors.

As the day must yield to night, so did suffrage yield to anarcho-tyranny.

So, there is nothing really that Romney can do, that heeds the media’s constraints on his party for acceptable discourse, to win over this group. He has three choices that stand a chance:

1. Become Gimmedat Lite and hope to peel off a sliver of the single mom contingent, and then rule differently once in office (fat chance), sacrificing a second term for the greater good.

2. Maximize his gains among single white men. If he can get that group to vote for him 80-20, then the 70-30 advantage O-face has among single white women is nullified.

3. Hope that the polls are lying because people are saying what they think the pollsters want to hear.

Right now, number one is what’s happening, and even then I don’t think Romney pulls this off. Why settle for a poor imitation of the real thing?

In a future post, I will discuss how crime thinkers such as yourself can successfully navigate the sexual market of leftie SWPL chicks without scaring them off or suffering undue mental distress. Hint: Be a sly motherfucker.

Addendum:

Will white chicks flock to the alpha male, regardless of his politics? That’s a good question. The alpha allure may have met its match against the promises of the sexless, bottomless beta provider of the nanny state government. Romney out-alpha’ed Obama in the debate…

YOU GOT ALPHA’ED!

…but Obama still holds the trump card of being the guy who represents the dream of every girl to have a harem of eunuch beta male orbiters showering her with emotional support and money while demanding nothing in return. It’ll be interesting to see if the polls budge among women in favor of Romney because he looked like a boss disciplining a lackadaisical employee during the debate. Obama’s head nodding while Romney dressed him down was a huge beta tell, and women pick up on that subtle body language stuff. If they are sufficiently turned off, this election could be up for grabs.

Posted in Culture, Girls, Goodbye America, Hope and Change | 507 Comments »

How To Remain Unflustered Like An Alpha Male

Oct 3rd, 2012 by

Girls wil test, tease and taunt. This is the female mating modus operandi, and it exists because women need a convenient system for screening alpha males from beta males, for whom male looks aren’t enough information for women to go on.

The screening system is fairly ingenious and effective, because in the pressure cooker of face-to-face interaction, alpha males do tend to be the men who can either roll with the girly blows or parry them with maximum seductiveness. Beta males tend to be the men who react defensively, apologetically or feebly. Hotheads react butthurtly.

There is no end to the ways in which being an alpha male is better than being a beta male. So it would make sense to learn how to respond to female testing, teasing and taunting like an alpha male. In practice, this means you are going to have to be a lot less reactive and emotionally susceptible than you currently are, because alpha males all share, to a greater or lesser degree, a facility with well-timed and smoothly executed stoicism. Grace under pressure, if you will.

With that in mind, here are some actions and lines you can use when a woman has challenged you (and revealed her blossoming attraction for you). These are very generalizable responses, because they are meant to be that way. It almost doesn’t matter what kind of test the girl throws in your face; any of these cool hand alpha responses will boost your status, and hence your attractiveness, to her. These tactics aren’t meant to be the height of wit either, so you won’t fear stumbling over your words at the critical moment. They are, before anything else, responses that raise your relative status by influencing women’s perception of you. You have to be a bit of an actor to pull some of these off, but seduction is, in its essence, the art of acting.

The key to many of these is a bemused or neutral facial expression. Body language should be slow and deliberate, bordering on instilling discomfort in your female company. A drink helps here because you can telegraph deliberateness with subtle movements, such as slowly lifting a glass to your mouth to take a sip before replying to a girl. You are nonreactive. If it helps, imagine yourself as D. Draper. (Not Jon Hamm, who is a PC pussy in real life.)

– Arch eyebrows. Stare at her for three seconds. Look away.

– Look her over with neutral expression, draw in lips, slowly nod head, and exhale “yeeeeeeeahhh…..”

– Sarcastically, “Wow, so cold, so cold. mmhmmm.”

– “Goooooddamnit.” [act disappointed, shake head, frown] “I thought you were different.”

– “Hmm,” [pause pause pause] “you’re off to a good start, I see.”

– “Just what I needed tonight.” Smirk a little here. “A ballbuster.”

– Stare, cock head, blank face. “Charming.”

– “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

– Smile broadly and phonily. “All right! This is fun!” Raise your glass to her, like a toast.

– “I thought I was the biggest bitch here.” [to be used sparingly on especially hot women with serious bitch complexes]

– Exhale loudly and slowly. Put your drink on the bar. Turn to face her. Relax arms and clasp your hands together. Brighten your face like a CareBear. “Well. You really know how to win a gentleman over.”

– “Your games are for children.”

– Straight face, “I’m glad I got to know you.” Excuse yourself politely from her company.

– “I bet you say that to all the men who secretly make you a little nervous. Like a schoolgirl.”

– Furrow your brow, cock head, like your examining a zit on her face. “You’re…. weirdly fascinating.”

– “Thanks for not making this too easy/polite/friendly.”

– “It’s a good thing I met you. Nice girls bore me.” (“Normal girls bore me”, if you want to say something edgier.)

– “I’ve got a question.” Look at her, then look at your hand, tap the table or bar (or a herb’s forehead) with your fingers for a few seconds, stop tapping, look back at her. “Does this normally work for you?”

– “Well.” Raise your glass to her. Smile. Nod in appreciation. “Just what I expected.”

– “I’ve heard about girls like you.” Wait for a reply. “Nothing good, I’m afraid.”

– “C+.” She will ask what you’re talking about. “You’re flirting skills. Not bad, room for improvement if you apply yourself.”

– Make a fake pained expression. Breathe in through your teeth. Squint. Put a hand to your forehead like you have a headache, or to your chest like you have heart pains. “You wound me, deeply.” Immediately after saying that, assume your unaffected poker face. “Cheers.”

– Appear befuddled. “Your question seems silly to me.”

– “I’ve gotta hand it to you. I was expecting a sane, boring girl.”

– “Nevermind.”

– “Hold that thought.” Drink, talk to the bartender or a friend, or just stare at the wall. She will expect you to return to the conversation. You won’t.

– Duct tape her mouth. “That’s better.”

One of the above is a joke.

Bonus alpha maneuver!

Stick your fingers in your ears. “I can’t hear you.” If she doesn’t laugh, I’ll refund your boot camp money.

Posted in Alpha, Game | 185 Comments »

Penis Size Around The World

Oct 2nd, 2012 by

Ah, HBDers. They get a bad rap as autistic nerdlings. But, you know what, Rainman didn’t miss a toothpick. That’s more than can be said for emotional equalists who make up toothpicks where none exist, and pretend that the toothpicks in front of them are actually thumbtacks. The latest support for human biodiversity theory comes to us from a guarded location deep in politically incorrect kingdom, where offense reigns supreme, censors are routed, and outraged pussies are mercilessly mocked until they slice lengthwise.

What’s the latest news you can self-abuse? Penis size differs by ethnicity and race.

The average British man’s penis is apparently 5.5in when erect – coming ahead of the French at 5.3in, Australians (5.2in), Americans (5.1in) and Irish (5in).

And it towers over the average manhood in North and South Korea – the smallest in the study at a mere 3.8 in.

But British men do not have a great deal to shout about in the trouser stakes – coming only 78th out of 113 nationalities covered in the study.

The men of Africa’s Republic of Congo are best equipped of all at 7.1 in.

The study isn’t without its critics, who contend the methodology is wanting. But it is a preliminary stab at a forbidden subject that pretty much confirms what all of us slyly notice in pornos and at the gym locker. Black dudes are packing and Asian dudes are sprouting. White dudes are in the middle.

Average penis size by country:

Republic of Congo, 7.1 [ed: show-er… and grower?]

Ecuador, 7

Ghana, 6.8

Colombia 6.7

Iceland 6.5

Italy 6.2

South Africa 6

Sweden 5.9

Greece 5.8

Germany 5.7

New Zealand 5.5

UK 5.5

Canada 5.5

Spain 5.5

France 5.3

Australia 5.2

Russia 5.2

USA 5.1

Ireland 5 [leprechauns!]

Romania 5

China 4.3

India 4

Thailand 4

South Korea 3.8

North Korea 3.8 [but their women’s pussies are tight like balloon knot, so it doesn’t matter… until they emigrate to non-asian countries.]

Penises are like the story of Goldicocks and the Three Bears.

Big Black Bear’s cock is sexy but uncivilized. It tears Goldicocks up, leaving her a quivering mass of orgasmic release and STDs.

Androgynous Asian Bear’s cock is unstimulating but loyal. It barely makes a dent in Goldicocks’ cavernous vagina, but it sticks around to see the kids (aka “grays”) through 35 years of post-graduate schooling, and eventually goes on to rule the world with their half-asian bear, half-jewish home invader progeny.

Wan and Woolly White Bear’s cock is juuuuust right. Sexy enough for Goldicocks to feel like her cave is properly explored, but included with some safety gear and a home mortgage.

On a less serious note, readers may wonder why racial and ethnic penis size differences exist in the first place. Random genetic drift? An evolutionary adaptation along for the ride because it was hitched to some unrelated genetic variant that improved survival&reproduction? Sexual selection? Lynn has offered his theories, and I’ve heard of others. The most plausible theories boil down to these two:

– Women in warmer r-selection societies (where kids are pumped out early and often and fathers are mostly absent and not needed to help raise the kids) choose men who are flashier, sexier and sizier. Literally. It’s hot out, you’ve got your cock out, and women are staring at your package next to a bunch of other guys’ packages. The women don’t care so much about your fidelity or your paycheck from coding Facebook apps; first things first, they want that massive dong.

– Men in r-selection societies need bigger penises to dig down deep and scoop out competitor male sperm, said sperm which is in there because the women are really slutty and/or unfaithful. Men in highly k-selected societies, like Japan, don’t need huge dongs because their women aren’t always on the prowl for side action sexytime. A small hoohah helper does the trick.

If you’ve got other theories for population group penis size discrepancies, let’s hear them. The more interesting angle to this is the intra-European size difference. Why are the Irish smaller than the Germans? Why are Swedes so relatively hyooge? Background noise? Or is something else going on here? Something… so distasteful to polite society, that not even whispers escape the mouths of crime thinkers?

Posted in Self-aggrandizement, The Pleasure Principle, Tool Time, Ugly Truths | 384 Comments »

A Reply To A Common Shit Test

Oct 2nd, 2012 by

Mystery has a pretty good reply (here’s his new website) to a hot chick who challenges him with a very common shit test that girls like to throw out.

HER: So why did you come over to talk to me?

HIM: [long, relaxed pause] Proximity.

She of course reacts by expressing that typical hot babe faux indignation that means the tingles have revved up. If you think “proximity” might be too polysyllabic a word for the girl you’re hitting on, you could substitute with “Convenience” or “You were closest.” The key will be your body language. Pause, and strike. Chicks dig the pause and strike.

Posted in Game | 128 Comments »

The Dark Romance Genre

Oct 1st, 2012 by

chris suggests:

Heartiste, you’re a good writer, given the current popularity of dark-romance novels (i.e. 50 shades of grey, twilight), have you ever considered taking your own shot at writing an erotic romance novel for women, and seeing just how dark and twisted the female sexual psyche is, just for the fun of it?

Examples: Jack the Ripper, a misunderstood man who just loved too much. [ed: i laughed.]
or

SS Nazi Officer, blonde haired Ubermensch, whose steel cold and ruthless determination would give way to heartfelt whispers of love and tenderness.
or

Jaws, a tale of unrequited interspecies romance.

My guess is the second one might actually prove popular if done right.

Have I considered writing a dark romance novel? Who says I haven’t already?

The time is clearly ripe for it. Millions of Western women, removed from the emotional grounding of real struggle, surrounded on all sides by lapdog betas, inflamed to uncontrollable passions by the rare aloof alphas, are screaming out for quenching of their suppressed desires (suppressed, in part, by women’s own lifestyle paths).

I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that sketchy pulp romance porn like Twilight and Fifty Shades of Sadism are currently very popular with women. The contours of our fantasies are most starkly delineated when feeding desire that is least fulfilled in reality. A society of more seductive men would dampen women’s inner world of secret desires. A society of beta males stokes it.

Women, of course, have never been sugar and spice. The female sexual psyche shades and twists in degrees, ebbing and flowing according to social or ecological pressures, but it never ceases being a land of shadow and maze. A subversive romance novel that humanized some alpha male monster via a woman’s love and hamstering genuflection would simultaneously satisfy female desire and send it up. I like the second one, too. SS officer shows soft side, woman who loves him sets out first to win his trust and kill him in his sleep, but can’t help following her heart. He implants his Hitler youth in her womb. Fin.

Here’s another idea:

Unusually cute feminist who writes pointless blog liberating fatties and cunts from bowel-shaking judgment is seduced by lacrosse playing frat boy son of a Republican bigwig. She finds out he has murdered three black prostitutes and buried the bodies in a remote Virginia wood, but by that time her heart swoons for his hot-cold-hot-cold, dread-inducing relationship acumen, and her vagina struggles against her conscience for dominance. One night he takes her to the spot where the bodies are decomposing and asks if she wants to be tied to a tree. Fear and tingles grip her, and she relents despite her misgivings, overcome with hot lust to fulfill a long-held fantasy of getting “play”-raped against a stately oak. He asks increasingly demanding questions, to which she answers affirmatively, her vagina glowing hotter with each reluctant submission. A French poodle trots into the scene, film noirish, and it triggers a lost memory from her youth, when a niceguy beta with a good job and kitchen skills loved her and promised her a life of domestic contentment and backrubs. A single feminist tear creases her face, now ripped by agony and pleasure as frat boy’s turgid paddle rends her furrow. He is wearing a Zorro mask. She mewls like a cougar in the throes of post-meal delight.

Months of dangerous sex punctuate a rise in feminist stardom, but she keeps her secret well, suffering the endless indignities of his increasingly deranged intrusions upon her body and claims on her womanhood, going so far as to construct a locket for her to permanently wear as reminder of his love. The spiral of passion imprisons and releases her, until one day he unceremoniously dumps her after she catches him anally boffing her radical feminist co-editor. Now presumably freed of his inexplicable power over her, she makes plans to reveal his crimes, but every time, just when she is about to pull the trigger, she steps away from the brink to collect her thoughts on long eatpraylove straycations, the last one to Morocco, where a swarthy fellow selling exotic wool carpets that cost five cents to manufacture in a Chinese factory accosts her in a dusty alley and introduces her to sexy jihad. From there, she comes down with an extreme case of Stockholm Syndrome and follows him on a pilgrimage to London, where she is initiated into the chain migration family through one-sided arranged marriage. She becomes a zealous Muslim convert, and feels a love and emotional calm she has never felt before, except when memories of that one man sidle into her dreams…

A tall, blonde-haired figure in an extra-tight European blazer slips into the used book shoppe she now runs with her Moroccan sister/aunt/cousin-in-law. He places a dog-eared tome on the counter: “My Secret Garden”. Her fingers tremble and dance along the spine of the book. A nerve shake sends ripples along her flesh. She peers vainly for his eyes under the fedora with the rim pulled down low. All she sees is a studded metal plate covering half his face and a whimsical smirk.

“It’s you?”

The man taps the book cover with a sinewy index finger. She stumbles at the cash register and rings him up. A knife sits gamely in the pence slot. She stares at it for a second, before composing herself.

She gives him the change. He lets his hand linger in hers as the currency empties into his palm. He taps the book again, and walks slowly out the door. She opens the book and finds a marked page. Nestled between the pages is a skeleton key. She collapses to the floor. The iron locket that has pierced her for ten years presses sharply against her pubis. A note flutters from the book and lands in her lap.

“I forgive you.”

She weeps as a powerful orgasm paralyzes her. The key waits for her. She picks it up, caresses it, and throws it into the trash.

Posted in Girls, The Id Monster, Vanity | 323 Comments »

Don’t Split The Housework If You Want The Love To Last

Sep 29th, 2012 by

We here at Chateau Heartiste have been pretty uniform in our assertion that relationships and marriages are more loving, and more sexually fulfilling, when men and women abide their ancient biological roles. Happiness comes from respecting the god of biomechanics. Unhappiness from denying him.

In a study sure to make feminists apoplectic, it was discovered that couples who share household chores are more likely to divorce.

Divorce rates are far higher among “modern” couples who share the housework than in those where the woman does the lion’s share of the chores, a Norwegian study has found.

In what appears to be a slap in the face for gender equality, the report found the divorce rate among couples who shared housework equally was around 50 per cent higher than among those where the woman did most of the work.

“What we’ve seen is that sharing equal responsibility for work in the home doesn’t necessarily contribute to contentment,” said Thomas Hansen, co-author of the study entitled “Equality in the Home”. [ed: readers of this blog will not be surprised by these results.]

The lack of correlation between equality at home and quality of life was surprising, the researcher said.

“One would think that break-ups would occur more often in families with less equality at home, but our statistics show the opposite,” he said.

The figures clearly show that “the more a man does in the home, the higher the divorce rate,” he went on.

File under: Don’t listen to what women say, watch what they do.

Women have been claiming for God knows how long that they want a man who will do his share of the housework, but when he does, their vaginas dry up like the Sahara. You see, equality of the sexes is a myth. Women don’t *really* want equal husbands. What women want are strong husbands who don’t act like women, which means, in practice, not puttering around the house dusting, mopping, vacuuming, cooking, or doing the laundry. A strong, masculine man is too busy — and too proud — to do shit like that. He has a mission in life outside the home, and women love that about him, even when they claim otherwise.

The reasons, Mr Hansen said, lay only partially with the chores themselves.

“Maybe it’s sometimes seen as a good thing to have very clear roles with lots of clarity … where one person is not stepping on the other’s toes,” he suggested.

“There could be less quarrels, since you can easily get into squabbles if both have the same roles and one has the feeling that the other is not pulling his or her own weight.”

The sex’s division of labor evolved for a reason: it’s most compatible with the feminine and masculine sexual polarity. There are some pursuits and some kinds of work that are simply feminine in nature, and woe be the man who willingly takes up the woman’s work in an effort to appease her; he may as well grow a vagina, for that is how she will perceive his sexual attractiveness.

But when it comes to housework, women in Norway still account for most of it in seven out of 10 couples. The study emphasised women who did most of the chores did so of their own volition and were found to be as “happy” those in “modern” couples.

So much for the patriarchal power structure.

Dr Frank Furedi, Sociology professor at the University of Canterbury, said the study made sense as chore sharing took place more among couples from middle class professional backgrounds, where divorce rates are known to be high.

“These people are extremely sensitive to making sure everything is formal, laid out and contractual. That does make for a fairly fraught relationship,” he told the Daily Telegraph.

Middle class status striving: does a marriage bad!

“The more you organise your relationship, the more you work out diaries and schedules, the more it becomes a business relationship than an intimate, loving spontaneous one.”

Ain’t that the truth. Like CH has been trumpeting for years, spontaneity, unpredictability and a little bit of aloof frisson make Joe and Jane a happy couple. Pro-tip: Steer clear of ballcutting battle axes with honey-do lists.

“In a good relationship people simply don’t know who does what and don’t particularly care.”

America, fuck yeah! Just keep seducing your lover, and who does the “chores” becomes a non-issue.

The researchers expected to find that where men shouldered more of the burden, women’s happiness levels were higher. In fact they found that it was the men who were happier while their wives and girlfriends appeared to be largely unmoved.

Call this the Manboob-Schwyzer Syndrome. Guys do housework because they think it is the way to appease feminist shrikes, and then feel happy about contributing, while women get more depressed as their attraction for an apron-wearing kitchen bitch plummets.

Since women’s happiness largely dictates whether a marriage will last or dissolve, equality-minded husbands ought to be aware that their good deeds are going punished in the souls of their wives. You want to kill the sexual vibe in your wife? Start splitting the housework. She’ll never look at you as a sexy stud again. You want to keep the love strong? Let her clean the house. You’ll be in the garage tinkering on your motorcycle.

I really hope the harpies at Jizzebel read this and shake violently from surprise orgasm.

Posted in Feminist Idiocy, Funny/Lolblogs, Guy Rules, Love | 353 Comments »

Laying Down The Law On Attention Whores

Sep 28th, 2012 by

A reader talks about how he trains his slut girlfriend:

I have to credit the Chateau to some degree for what has happened in my relationship over the past week.

A little background: We’ve been dating for about 15 months or so, it’s a pretty serious relationship and I am letting her move in with me starting in January. She’s a solid 8, 5’2″, 100lbs and a great body.

I am currently away for work for the next 7 weeks, and it’s put a bit of a strain on the relationship for the first few weeks of my absence. [ed: if you have hand in the relationship — i.e., she wants you more than you want her, or you have more latent options than she has — a long absence will work in your favor.] This past weekend she said she and her best friend were going to get matching tattoos that they’d been talking about getting for years. They were going to get them on their ankles, which I found to be incredibly trashy looking. I put my foot down and said I did not approve and did not want her to get it. She lashed out initially and got upset, saying she felt like she couldn’t make decisions on her own anymore. I told her simply and succinctly that if she was wanting to be in this type of serious relationship with me that there were boundaries. I stood my ground, and was rewarded. Shortly after, her response was that she was not getting the ankle tattoo…and much love was sent my way.

In previous portions of my life I may not have reacted as confidently and strongly. I give partial credit to this site for waking my ass up. Thank you.

Proving a Chateau maxim, tattoos are a leading indicator of sluttiness. The more garish the tattoo, and the closer the tattoo sits to an erogenous zone, the more likely the wearer has taken the cock carousel for an extended after-hours spin.

But tattoos are also kind of sexy, especially small ones in dainty, hidden places, like the ankle or hip. This is why girls both wish to have them, and feel guilt about getting them: tats make women more attractive as short term flings but less attractive as long-term romantic partners.

I commend you for laying down the law. Your spidey sense tingled and telegraphed to you that your girlfriend would become a bigger cheating risk if she followed through with getting the tattoo. And the fact that she wants a tat has made you reevaluate her fidelity risk profile. Yours was a bold move, and chicks dig the bold move.

Naturally, a girl will stamp her wee feet when you tell her you won’t tolerate this or that behavior from her. But if you stay firm and in control of your emotions, and you are perfectly ready to call her bluff should she attempt the ol’ “I’ll find someone else who can appreciate me” counter-maneuver, you will be richly rewarded with her new and improved loyalty. Women love to feel sexy, and nothing makes them feel sexier than submitting, at last, to a strong man’s will. When you properly lead, women can’t wait to fall in line and follow. They are wired to follow, but only behind a man worthy of their relinquishment.

The reader above wrote a week later with an update:

Gentlemen…same guy that submitted about the ankle tat yesterday.

My gf recently discovered the ability of a hot girl to get lots of followers and instant positive reaction from twitter trolls. [ed: trouble brewing.] So this has sucked up a lot of her time over the past couple weeks, and she’ll post flirty pictures and what not. She’s got nearly 600 followers already and probably about 1700 tweets in the last 3 weeks that she’s put out. I’m on twitter as well and following her and vice versa and we interact on there as well as via txt/phone like we always have. I haven’t seen really anything that’s stepped over the line except one instance where I immediately called her out on it. She retweeted a somewhat suggestive comment a guy had made passively referring to her. She immediately took it down and said she was sorry, she didn’t really think of it that way. She said she just found it funny so she retweeted it.

She does interact with other guys on there, and I have indicated that I will not tolerate any sort of flirting with other guys. She offered to take it down last week when we were fighting about all of this, but I get the feeling the offer was simply a trap. I told her I wasn’t telling her to take it down, but that I was not going to allow twitter to be taking my place. My gut feeling on all of this isn’t all that great. I’m away for work until after the election and I only get to see her maybe once a week if we’re lucky.

Thoughts on the twitter? I know what’s going on here…she’s never been the girl that all the guys wanted, [ed: was she an ugly duckling as a child?] and now this lets her soak up all the instant compliments and such. I realize that it’s simply her feeding her desire for validation, but I need to keep it under control. Thoughts?

Be careful. Your girlfriend is transmogrifying into an attention whore right before your eyes. 600 Twit followers from posting salacious pics of herself. Yes, women have so much to contribute to civilization; namely, they passively motivate men to do the heavy lifting. Your GF’s confessed desire for a tattoo was an early warning signal. Twitter is like a gateway drug to evermore dangerous attention whoring highs. The progression usually starts off slowly, and culminates in a raging runaway ego:

Infancy ==> if she’s a cute baby, adults will stare at her longer
Toddlerhood ==> all her antics are “adorable”. uglier toddlers get chastised.
Grade school ==> a constant stream of self-esteem boosting messages from parents, teachers and media begin the malignant growth of her ego.
Social media ==> she has entered the world of sexting, Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. there’s no turning back now.
High school ==> one “innocent” flirty pic of her in a bikini results in 2,314 likes from men of all ages around the country. she savors her power.
College (or working class service jobs) ==> the tables begin to turn, due to the unfavorable sex ratio and the world of ruthlessly aloof cads who are wise enough to not feed her ego. but it’s a short bump along her highway of hubris.
SWPLland! ==> the working world brings her in contact with hordes of undersexed, overcomplimenting beta herbs. the few alpha males shine like diamonds in this rough. she at once gets her ego fed and her tingles satiated.
Alpha male overdose ==> fifty years later, she will remember this one week romance she had with the man who never replied to her texts, except to say “gay”, and who gave her a bag of Skittles as a gift. the Skittles are now moldy, still cherished. she is ruined for all beta males. her ego has exploded.
Bars/nightclubs/scenes ==> not one of her drunken sexpot poses or phony smiles goes unphotographed or unreported for public consumption. beta males virtually hoist her above their heads, like an Egyptian queen. by now, her ego has metastasized into terminal cancer of the soul. deeply diseased women will experience shortness of breath when no one is taking their picture. bar dancing whores will strategically go commando on nights out.
Working world ==> “I don’t even need a man to pay for my shoes!”
Adulthood ==> historically, age 18 ushered adulthood, but times have changed. 30 is the new grown-up. her looks are beginning to show signs of the remorseless fade, but years of accumulated beta male sycophancy have gifted her with an ego able to weather a storm of self-doubt for years past her sell-by date.
Withdrawal ==> whether or not she has managed to land a beta sucker for marriage, she begins to experience withdrawal symptoms from coming off her attention drug. no more likes on FB. Twit pics garner 10 followers instead of 600. her “you go girl” chorus consists of mostly flabby, cat-owning hausfraus. blog commenters mock her thumbnail avatar. even the tattoo artist suggests she get a more tasteful tat on a “smoother” part of her body.
Lashing out ==> the beta hubby, because of his proximity and inborn weakness, suffers the brunt of her bitter spite. she will open her legs for random jerks who can’t be bothered to learn her name. she will nag her husband or BF until he is pulling his pud to gloomy, late-night porn while she sleeps. if he’s lucky, divorce or a break-up will relieve him of his indentured servitude.
Children ==> she will live vicariously through her daughter, enrolling her in creepy kiddie beauty pageants, or, if she’s higher class, seducing her daughter’s horny boyfriends away from her. the drastic shrinking of her desensitized ego will render her a bitchy malcontent, unable to feel pride in any personal achievement, and needing to latch onto others for internal validation.
Ego death ==> arrives twenty years after sexual prime death. decades of self-delusion have taken their toll. she is a shell entity.

Good reader, this is your future if you do not take steps to redirect her away from the siren song of social media aka digital stripper pole. Your gut feeling is correct; it’s a bad sign for your relationship that she’s passively flirting with men on Twitter, no matter how insistently she protests it’s all innocent fun.

Maxim #41: It’s never innocent fun.

If you’re in a solid relationship with a girl who loves you and values you, external validation through social media will never become an issue. She will use Twitter and Facebook to keep in touch with her social circle, and privatize her accounts so random men can’t find her and comment on her photos or daily musings. That is a normal, healthy female response to the lure of social media status whoring. A woman in love is validated by her lover, not by cloying flattery from hard-up strangers.

My friend, between the tattoo and the Twitter whoring, you are getting red flags flapping in a stiff wind over your head. She is constitutionally incapable of finding self-worth without propping herself on a fiber optically constructed sex stage or marking her body for the amusement of the gawking masses. Or perhaps she finds you insufficient as a man powerful enough to sway her from the attention whore spotlight. Or it could be both reasons.

Whatever it is, you have to proceed as if what you have with her is far from locked downed. All girls have an innate desire for external validation, as it is the nature of their sex that external characteristics most define their value in the sexual market, which is the one market to rule them all. But the degree to which women desire this external ego stroking varies by woman, based on variables like psychological predisposition, beauty, family history and being in love. The ideal woman is a pretty girl who got lots of affection *and* character-building discipline from her father, and who’d rather suffer the vagaries of being in love than play head games to avoid being hurt.

Anyhow, you have already once laid (lain?) down the law with your girlfriend, over her tattoo request. So I don’t see a reason why you can’t put your foot down again and tell her to privatize her online accounts. The danger with laying down the law is that overuse of your authority can create an impression, justified or not, of insecurity: the man who needs to be in control of every facet of his woman’s life is a man who is afraid the tiniest taste of freedom will send her running for the exits.

I respectfully suggest your LTR has some issues that need clarifying. Fifteen months is just about the time when both parties will subconsciously judge the quality of their relationship, and decide to keep at it or find a way out. This is especially so in modern America, a strange time of delayed responsibility and celebrated shamelessness, particularly of women. Furthermore, moving in together tends to hasten and strengthen the internal call for judgment. She is acting out because things have just gotten real.

My advice:

Keep a suspicious eye on her. Flirt with other girls to remind yourself you have options should the worst happen and your girlfriend cheats or hints at breaking up. Tell her public tweeting is out; if she really loves you, she’ll gladly accept the imposition on her crass desires. Remind her it’s for her own good over the long-term, and that other girls you have dated had no need to whore on Twitter. At last, begin to instill some dread in your relationship; this is how you will simultaneously test for her faithfulness and fullness of heart, and draw her away from the temptation of external validation. I’d offer you good luck, but I think that even if you “win” this round with her, the future prognosis doesn’t look promising. She’s on the upswing of venturing forth into attention whore land, and it’s hard to bring a girl back down to earth when she’s already catapulting into lookatme orbit.

Posted in Girls, Guy Rules, Relationships, Self-aggrandizement, Vanity | 212 Comments »

From Pickup To Date To Pull: The Full Video

Sep 27th, 2012 by

Not too long ago there was a post on Justin Wayne and his videotaped day game pickup. The more skeptical viewers wanted to know if Wayne is able to get anything more going with the girls he meets in public, like a date or sex. In answer to that, he’s got another video out which shows him meeting a girl, picking her up, going on a date with her, and taking her home. Outside of actually standing there watching him slip the chocobar into her snatch, I don’t think you could ask for better evidence of the effectiveness of game. But see for yourself.

It’s a long video, so you might want to take some time today to plow through it, like you would a recalcitrant lawyer chick. The meat of the video begins at the 7:00 minute mark. There’s a lot to discuss here, so I’ll throw this to the readership and let you guys hash it out. I’ll make a few points about things that stood out to me:

At 8:00, he uses the “innocent bystander” opener, and asks for directions. The open is from the front. No catching up to her required.

At 8:45, watch for the AMOG by the flower guy. Handled the best way — with a firm no.

At 9:24, she tries to disengage, but he neutralizes it by agreeing with her (“I understand what you need…”) and then just plows into another topic. Her focus is successfully redirected.

At 10:02, the girl is suspicious of his age and demands his ID. This rarely happens, but in those rare times it does, if you are concerned about your privacy, you should carry a fake ID. Anyhow, “logical” demands like these are mostly an Eastern Euro girl phenomenon. Wayne deflects superbly by offering a quid pro quo hug in exchange for the ID. She drops the subject. Shit test passed.

At 10:31, Wayne gives her his glasses to try on. I wouldn’t have done this. I’d be worried that a Ukrainian chick would run off with them.

At 10:35, she fishes for a compliment. Beta bait! Wayne replies “Wow, you look sooo….” Nice neg!

General observation: This chick is shit testing a lot. I’ve found it to be the case that East Euro girls will be incredibly bitchy when you first meet them, but if you pass their tests, they warm up quickly.

11:40: The bounce. This is important to make a girl feel like she’s known you longer than she has. AKA time compression.

12:22: “and if you like eating healthy…” Nice little qualifier.

12:56: “She’s white?” Slavs are refreshingly frank about race. American SWPLs, take note.

13:55: His persistence pays off. She follows his lead. Insta-date!

15:50 onward: This is actually kinda romantic.

General observation: She’s making what seem like a lot of demands of him (“Show me your music style”, “show me this thing”, etc), which can be construed as shit tests, qualifiers, or indicators of interest. I like to call these kinds of girls Show Me Sassies. You have to be careful not to comply too often with a Show Me Sassy, or she’ll lose interest to find a more challenging man.

17:26: Contrast is king!

18:00: Interesting that she’s confessing her (rational) fear of ghetto black guys to… a black guy.

At 19:14, Wayne asks “Why do you want to see me again?” Always assume the sale.

At 19:20, she demurs rather coldly. Most beta males would have crumbled into dust after hearing this.

19:23, she punches him in the shoulder. Major IOI. This is girlcode for attraction. Runaway attraction that must have its pressure released.

20:08, escalate the kino. By whatever means necessary.

20:53, kiss compliance test passed. She is now invested in him, and will be more pliable going forward. Her hamster has awakened from its slumber and has been kicked into rationalization mode by the kiss she planted on his cheek. Herein, she will look for ways to explain to herself why she’s falling for this guy. “Kiss tests” are very effective at flipping the seduction script so that the girl is chasing, or perceives that she is chasing.

General observation: Wayne flirts a lot. “As we hold hands, you’re going to start feeling some magic…” Flirting should be like breathing; you never want to think about it, and you never want to stop doing it.

Around 21:30, he’s hitting her up with a slew of beauty compliments. Rewards for her compliance, or cloying supplication? Stay tuned!

At 22:45, they go on a “day 2″. (Formally known as an “actual date”.) Is she wearing the same pants? She must like the way they flatter her butt. I predict sex.

23:30, intimate moments. I wonder how he arranged the camera in that scene?

General observation: Wayne shows confidence in his allure, bordering on sociopathic overconfidence, and as science proves that is the catnip to women that they can’t resist, the male ALPHA ATTITUDE that trumps all other male attractiveness traits except fame or immense wealth. If you don’t have this attitude, picking up girls will always feel like an uphill slog to you. If you have this attitude, pickup will feel as easy and familiar as riding a bike.

The last six minutes of the video feature his students doing practice pickup attempts. There’s some useful stuff, so watch till the end.

PS In order to avert a predictable and repetitive shitstorm, you will be limited to one race comment. Make it count!

Posted in Game, Videos | 491 Comments »

Womanly Economy

Sep 25th, 2012 by

Are women doing better than men (by some metrics) in the modern economy because the corporate and government world has been rejiggered to accommodate female worker preferences?

Reader epoche writes:

The reason that more men are not in college or at least not achieving the way that women might like is that the economy has specifically been re-arranged to accommodate the feminine preference for material risk aversion making it difficult for men to extract status out of working. There are two ways of organizing society – as noted by Victorian Lawyer Sir Henry Maine A) Status (Compulsory cooperation) and B) Contract (Voluntary cooperation) and the modern progressive movement is a giant step backwards towards compulsory cooperation and away from voluntary cooperation. How a group of people determine achievement says nearly everything about how their lives are going to be lived – this is why Kay Hymowitz noted that these degrees “take years” in “preadulthood” but mistakenly blamed the “knowledge economy” instead of noting the shift away from material resourcefulness and towards credentialing as the source of social standing.

Any “rearrangement” of the economy is likely to be organic in provenance rather than orchestrated, but I’m open to evidence saying otherwise. I’m not a big believer in conspiracy thinking; most of what strikes naturally skeptical people as conspiratorial is just the emergent property of millions of minds with shared neurogenetic predispositions coalescing around certain ideologies and policies that then gives the impression to dissenters of calculated malevolence. This is my working assumption, though I allow that conspiracies — even society-wide conspiracies — have existed and may yet exist again. It’s also not outside the realm of possibility that organic social and economic frameworks may eventually morph into self-conscious networks with conspiratorial underpinnings intent on preserving their power.

The flood of Western women into the workforce has had, and will continue to have, massive, heretofore unexamined in an honest way, unintended downstream and upstream effects on social and sexual organization. It was practically preordained. When you fuck with the god of biomechanics, expect uncontrollable consequences to belch forth from the depths and rake at your legs dragging you into its disorienting hellhouse. This was never going to be a simple matter of giving upper class, bored housewives something to do. Female economic self-sufficiency rivals the Pill, abortion, easy divorce and alternative male sexual outlets for the acid bath demolecularization potential each has on the standard model of growth industry civilization.

If the result of feminism, equalism (aka anti-white male “progressivism”) and all these other little earthquakes rattling the very foundation of the Western sexual market is to make various sectors of the economy more risk averse and more status whoring, and thus more pleasing to women’s innate preference for a hidebound, exclusive aristocracy and genteel “makework” in service to the lords, and less friendly to the openness, candor, effrontery, class shuffling and innovation that is the preference of men seeking to make a mark in the world, then we really have to ask ourselves what the end game will look like. Because, right now, the accumulating signs do not point to a happy future.

Executive summary:

Credentialism stifles innovation and risk-taking, and solidifies a de facto corporate, academia and government aristocracy preferred by women. Credentialism is a natural outgrowth of feminism and equalism, which themselves are natural outgrowths of the feminine sensibility. The root of these twin evil ideologies must be destroyed and the ground upon which they grow salted before the West can begin an era of renewal that returns it to the eternal principles enshrined by the gods of the copybook headings.

Posted in Biomechanics is God, Culture, Ugly Truths | 330 Comments »

“Get lost”

Sep 24th, 2012 by

Most girls avoid inciting confrontation. But some girls are constitutionally nasty. All girls can occasionally be nasty if they are pushed hard enough (or PMSing hard enough). American girls are getting manlier and, hence, nastier, so the occasions you will encounter nastiness from a girl in America and her Western satellites are likely increasing in frequency.

Some things a nasty bitch will utter are so grating you feel impelled to haul back and send her to the moon. “Get lost” is one of those things. Of course, you don’t want to do this. Not only will it result in a white knight brigade gang-tackling you in hopes of receiving a pat on the back from some fat hog in flip-flops, it will kill your pickup momentum.

The best answer to female nastiness is calm. As long as your demeanor is calm and you look unflustered, you will knock a nasty cunt off her game plan. She’s expecting one reaction; you’re giving her another.

Calmness is essentially non-reactiveness. When you react, you accede, implicitly or explicitly, to your antagonist’s frame. When you react, you confess defensive insecurity, even if objectively you are not, because perception is all that matters in seduction. Defensiveness is the biggest game-killer, outside of supplication. If you ever observe naturals or experienced players hitting on women, one thing you’ll notice they all have in common is a complete and total lack of defensiveness or supplication. The non-neediness and self-certainty of the inveterate player are so ingrained that he couldn’t be otherwise if he tried.

So, to sum up, when you encounter shocking nastiness from a girl:

1. Stay calm
2. Don’t react
3. Announce your preferred intention

Number 1 is very hard to do if you are a young man full of impulsivity and heavy balls. But it comes with practice. Hot emotions can be corralled and channeled, just like yogis can train themselves to focus inwardly and feel less pain.

Number 2 can be mastered simply by willing yourself to pause for a second or two in mental silence before responding to a girl who has attempted to get under your skin. The pause of alphaness is a powerful technique, and will help you gather your thoughts and keep a poker face. It is also very unsettling to your opponent.

Number 3 is reframing. This is where you apply the proper tension with the words you choose to relay to her. A substitution of her tacit demands with your alternative preference implies your indifference and perhaps mild annoyance. You are not angry or spiteful. You are condescending.

So, for example, a girl says this to you:

“Get lost.”

You would ideally respond with this:

“No, I think I’ll stay right here.”

No anger, no spite, no sulking, no defensive flailing. Just a calm iteration of fact and an imposition of your will on the world, wrapped in an unmovable frame.

If she really hates you, she’ll mutter something like “fuck you” under her breath and walk off, which is the equivalent of taking her ball home and declaring victory. But the perception will be that you will have won, standing your ground like an unflappable mofo. A small measure of self-satisfaction will materialize in a smirk on your face. It’s these little victories that add up to a rich, fulfilling life.

If she doesn’t really hate you, and was just being bitchy because bitch, her reaction will be an amalgam of surprise, indignation and intrigue. All these reactions are better than the alternative, because they all mean her frame has been broken and subsumed into yours. Great love often germinates in such difficult soil.

Now I know some of you are incredulously asking yourselves, “So an alpha male is never supposed to get angry, even when such anger is fully justified?”

No, I didn’t say that. An alpha male should favor being proactive over reactive. What this means in practice is that anger is best displayed intermittently, infrequently, and unexpectedly. It is also best used when its usage is personally advantageous. The rules of the sexual market are not guided by principles of fairness; an angry defensive outburst moves you no closer to your goal of pleasure, and usually moves you further from it.

Bitchiness should be answered first with bemused calm, which steals the bitch’s thunder and robs her of the satisfaction of provoking the expected butthurt response. Preternatural calm and steadfast state control will induce in the bitch complacency, guard-lowering, and second thoughts, from which a seduction may move forward, or from which you may lower the war hammer of ego smiting. Give the bitch room to bitch, implant in her the impression that you aren’t easily provoked and might even be worth getting to know, and then, when she least expects it, reveal the awesome glory of your disgust with her as a person.

Dishing out unforeseen comeuppance is almost as satisfying as sex. But it’s a long game, for those who have the patience and discipline to master not only the egos of others, but one’s own ego.

Posted in Game, Girls | 357 Comments »

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