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Enjoying a Sunday morning cup of coffee and reading the hilarious insults from YouTube commenters has become a treasured personal growth and productivity time sink for me.  The key to savoring truly inspired mockeries is to choose a popular video featuring an easy target.  This combination brings out the best in people.

This video by a guy riffing on the equally strange YouTube video below elicited a few choice zingers:

Is this a man or a woman? OH MY GOD THEY HAVE CROSSED HUMANS WITH FROG DNA! Jabba the Hut’s kid? Woahhhh someone slay this creature and see how much exp points you get and check for possible loots. Who is responsible for going shaolin stick fighting style on this thing’s face with branches of the ugly tree?

Go die in a fucking fire.

It looks like you ate chocolate rain, you fat ass.

dude give up ur fat, ur ugly, u got no rythym, ur fat, ur ugly, and ur fat too!!!!!!

u look like a fat fish.

Here’s the oddly compelling original video with 10 million views that spawned hundreds of spoof tributes:

When he leans away from the mic I like to pretend he’s giving me kisses!  [not really an insult but still funny]

Not bad for a 7-year old…

You look like you’re getting butt-fucked.
I like watching this with the sound off and laughing at you.

This is the end of the Internet.

ahh…. the sweet relief of nausea. This guy is a human stomach pump.

TIME OUT!!!….Is this song about diarrhea??

LOL his face is glossed with jizz

The singer in the video, Tay Zonday, tried valiantly to answer his critics but gave up after the 9,000th comment or so:

5iveX:  Ughh ur ugly and stupid.  Your voice sucks..you phail at life.

TayZonday:  Hi 5iveX! Why do you say that I’m ugly and stupid? What are you trying to communicate? Give more detail about what you dislike.

YouTube — comedy gold.

Leftie Girls Are Easy

This article about looking for love at an Obama political rally made me laugh.

 ”You are likely to have similar political views, and those often cross into other things that aren’t politically affiliated,” says Colleen Kluttz, a 29-year-old TV producer who’s hitting the event tonight if work allows.

I suppose it makes intuitive sense to a politics-drenched activist like Colleen that your views on the estate tax or troop withdrawal would define who you are as a person in all areas of life, but in my experience a girl’s political opinions have zero correlation to how well we’ll get along as a lovemaking couple.  About the only time it matters is when… we’re discussing politics.

The one exception is her view on abortion, which is more religious in nature than political.  I would never bareback it with a pro-life chick.

“It [politics] will give you something to talk about. It gives you a reason to have conversations that aren’t just about yourself.”

Let me tell you, if you are discussing politics with your date, no matter how sympatico you both are, you won’t be getting laid.  The tedious, dreary world of politics engages her logical mind when you want to do exactly the opposite.  If she’s the type that can’t take a breather from braying about this or that political pet cause then she has control issues you want to avoid.

And no two people are 100% in agreement on every issue.  You spend an hour talking politics and there is bound to come up a disagreement over some by-line in the appropriations bill that kills the sexytime mood.

But what kind of guy are you going to find at an Obama rally?

“A socially conscious liberal – probably a well-dressed, well-groomed hipster,” Kluttz says.

If you want to bang this girl, your dedication to world peace won’t be enough.  You had better dress well, too.

Lindsay Schaeffer, 25, may even skip the rally for the nighttime bash.

“Look, you never meet good guys in a bar,” she reasons. “Something like this naturally weeds out the losers for you. You aren’t going to get some pickup artist at a political after-party.”

Keep telling yourself that, Lindsay.  Heh heh heh.

Every guy in the world is looking for the pickup.  Some are just more artistic in the execution than others.

One ardent Obama supporter (who declined to give his name because he works in politics) says he’ll attend both the rally and the after-party, and he doesn’t expect to be going home alone.

He’s confident for a reason.

“Let’s face it: Leftie girls are easy,” he says.

This is the conventional wisdom about leftwing girls.  When I was in college I joined both the College Democrats and the College Republicans to meet girls.  I altered or concealed my views as needed when it was personally advantageous and helped toward my goal of hooking up.  My friends and I agreed at the time with the commonly-held assumption that the Dem girls were good to go, while the Repub girls were prettier and more “well-kept”.

I learned that the conventional wisdom is onto something, but for the wrong reasons.  A lot of the leftie girls came from broken families.  Dads who vamoose make girls who are loose.  The rightie girls held out longer but when the floodgates finally opened their sexual appetites poured forth just as voraciously as their sluttier leftie sisters, if not moreso.

As for who was prettier, if I subtracted the butch lesbians from the Dem ranks and the fashion queens from the Repub ranks, I didn’t notice much daylight between the two groups of girls.  Of course, this was college, a time of life when most girls look bangable as long as they stay slim.  I think as women age the Republicans tend to stay hotter longer because of their no-nonsense fastidiousness about catering to men’s desires.

In a previous post I discussed a workable definition of identifying alpha males that most non-delusional people would have no problem agreeing with.  Here I will set out what defines the alpha female.  In some ways, the alpha female is a mirror image of her male counterpart.  Where quantity counts heavily toward a man’s rank, quality does so for women.  Where notches boost a man’s score, commitment boosts a woman’s score.

The amount of variables that go into determining a woman’s sexual market value is considerably smaller than it is for men, thus making the determination of the alpha female quite a bit easier.  The reason for this has to do with the inherently imprecise and heterogeneous nature of male power versus the comparatively objective nature of female power.  A boring rich man, a starving artist, and a charismatic rapscallion can all do well with women, so individual measures such as wealth, creativity, and dominance, on their own, fall short as inclusive definitions of alpha male status.  We have had to use indirect evidence of a man’s alphaness – his success with women – to come up with a male ranking system that allows for very few exceptions to the rule.

Women, on the other hand, can be ranked more directly (though not entirely).  Unless she’s got HIV or is missing a vagina, a 9 will in almost all cases be more alpha than a 6, regardless of how many men she dates.  This stems from the fact that men are not as diverse as women in what turns them on in the opposite sex.  Men dig beauty.  A feminine personality and sexual adventurism follow in a distant second and third place.  Smarts takes up the rear in fourth.  Men’s simple attraction programming means that we can rank women by their hotness without worrying about too many exceptions that violate the integrity of our ranking system.

But that is not the whole story.  Besides hotness, there is one other factor that influences female rank — the maximum level of commitment she can extract from her best option.  Her personality, charm, sexiness, character, and nurturing ability will make the difference here.  The best option rule is essential – men who are below her first choice offer unwanted commitment while men who are too far above her are guaranteed to put less effort into the relationship.

So the two variables defining female rank are:
Female hotness (sorry girls, but beauty is 99% NOT in the eye of the beholder).
Maximum level of commitment from the top suitor (this is what really separates the contenders from the pretenders; committing up is trickier than dating up).

Male partner rank is included as a reference point showing what pool of men is normally available to a woman of a particular rank.  This will on average be a little higher than the woman’s rank since women date up.

What is not included –
Number of partners means little to a woman’s rank.  Even a 1 can get fucks dumped in her by a drooling parade of Quasimodos.  Of course, a 10 will have way more males desiring her than the 1, but since men are more willing to occasionally dumpster dive and women don’t lust for variety as much as men do, we will leave that irrelevant variable out of the equation.

Female Rank     Hotness(F)   Male Rank    Max Commitment Level
Warpigs*                0                    0,1          30 seconds through glory hole
Lesser Omega       1,2                  1,2,3        15 minutes, moonless night only,
                                                                  contacts removed, never sober,
                                                                  doggy style with nothing but
                                                                  genitalia touching and a vomit
                                                                  bag nearby
Greater Omega      2,3                2,3,4        one hour with aid of mexican
                                                                  wrestling mask and stick to
                                                                  bite down on
Lesser Beta            3,4               3,4,5       4 weeks and nobody knows
                                                                  except you and your god
Beta                        4,5,6            4,5,6,7     6 months – 5 yrs, no flowers, no
                                                                  poems, no nights out, zero foreplay,
                                                                  she never comes, ultimatum spurs
                                                                  marriage proposal, divorce a messy
                                                                  but welcome denouement,
                                                                  housework is 70/30 favoring the man
Greater Beta          6,7               6,7,8         5 – 10 years, marriage tainted by
                                                                  at least one affair, passion fades
                                                                  after first year, marriage becomes
                                                                  comfortable compromise, chance of
                                                                  divorce slightly beats the odds
Lesser Alpha          7,8               7,8,9        10 – 15 years, she convinces him
                                                                  to marry right away instead of
                                                                  cohabit, first 5 years of marriage are
                                                                  magical time of animal sex and sweet
                                                                  romance, kids are never resented,
                                                                  husband works ass off to support
                                                                  family, super hot mistress
                                                                  precipitates divorce
Alpha                       8,9               8,9,10      10 years of faithful cohabitation,
                                                                  followed by 15 years of progressively
                                                                  unfaithful marriage (hey, hot people
                                                                  are constantly tempted), affairs
                                                                  ignored, sex always good, romantic
                                                                  gestures clever, original, and heart-
                                                                  warming, family portrait painted by
                                                                  norman rockwell descendant
Super Alpha           10                10           foreva eva, a polyamorous eternity,
                                                                  love stays strong (or at least until she
                                                                  hits the wall)

*Water cooler bonus: there are twice as many dregs as warpigs.

Exception argument:
What about the rare female 4 who snags a male 8?  Doesn’t that make her an alpha?

No.  Let’s turn it around to show why.  If a male 4 snags a female 8 his ranking goes up, maybe even as far up as a male 8.  Other women see and hear about him with his hot girl and the phenomenon of female preselection assures that he will now be more attractive to a bigger pool of women.  Not all female 8s will suddenly find him attractive, but enough will that it will make a difference in his alpha ranking.

Conversely, if a female 4 lands a male 8 her sexual status ranking will barely nudge up, if at all.  That is because male preselection does not work.  Other men won’t become more attracted to a female 4 despite seeing her with a much higher status guy.  They will be curious, but their crotches won’t stir.  Her basic package of looks will still dictate the amount of attraction she can generate from men.                     

Thursdays Rule

In the quest to uncover any hidden patterns in my dating experiences that might help me streamline operations, I’ve done a back of the cocktail napkin calculation of the total number of girls I’ve dated that led to intimate relations, assorted by which days I first met those girls.  I wanted to see if some days were better for meeting a slutty sexually responsive pool of available women.

Obviously, having a good memory is a factor in this analysis, but as a man I found it a lot easier to remember the exact day I met a girl I would eventually bang than it is to remember, for example, my niece’s name.

The following table shows the percentage of total intimacies by the day of the week that the successful pickup first began.

Day of First Meet                 Percent of Total Lays
Monday                                       5%
Tuesday                                      10%
Wednesday                                  0%  (!)
Thursday                                    30%
Friday                                         25%
Saturday                                     15%
Sunday                                        15%

I was a bit surprised by Wednesday’s goose egg.  Maybe this is dumb coincidence or faulty memory, or hump day (behold irony) is a black hole of suckage for meeting girls.  Is Wednesday Desperate Housewives night?  I wouldn’t know.

Friday’s results were predictable as more single girls go out on that night than any other by my guess, providing a richer target environment, but Saturday put up a less than stellar showing.  For all its pomp and circumstance as a great hookup night, Saturday actually blows.  It’s a date night for one, and the hordes of desperate men who didn’t meet anyone Friday night give it the old college try again on Saturday, smothering the good vibes with their massive sausage invasion.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday have been good considering their reputations as lonely barfly nights devoid of girls, but two things I’ve learned over the years are that any girl going out on an off-night is seriously looking to hook up (double hookup points if she braves it on a rainy weeknight) and logistics are favorable for you to take a girl home that night because weeknight venue patrons are more likely to be local.  Also, it doesn’t hurt that the venues aren’t swarming with drunk Axe-wearing clones.  Just be sure to avoid those bars that cater to the kickball flip cupper crowd.

For some reason, a lot of European women go out for drinks on Sundays and Mondays.

Thursday gets crowned Notch Night of the Week.  It has the best mix of quality and quantity, with just enough of a scene to make things interesting, yet suitably laid back to appeal to the types of women who don’t parade around clubs holding their girlfriend’s hands like circus elephants.  This is one of the great advantages to living in the city – rolling out on a Thursday night is not such a chore.

Conclusion:  there is selective filtering in action based on day of the week.  Quieter nights will have fewer opportunities, but the leads are stronger.  Busier nights have more opportunities, but on average they are weaker.  The best night is the one that strikes a balance between numbers and receptiveness.

Day game is limited to Saturday and Sunday, so unless you are unemployed and can spend all week trolling for other unemployed girls, it’s pointless to draw any lessons from the number of girls you have picked up during the daytime.

A Critical Moment

Everything was going right.  My game was tight.  She was responding with an everlasting feedback loop of positivity.  All smiles, all electrified touching on the legs, chest, arms.  Unforced laughter.  Whispers in ears as cheeks grazed.

A culmination in same night sex was within the realm of possibility.  I could practically taste it.

Then she pulled the classic last ditch stone cold shit test.

Using inviting body language, she welcomed a male interloper into our perfect night.  He dutifully took the bait and chatted her up.  She snapped her eye contact away from me and to him.  She laughed at his… what were they?… jokes?… no, she laughed at any old stupid thing he said.

He was in heaven.  Getting the girl AND sticking it to some chump who thought he had it in the bag.

But I knew better.  He was being used by her.  A compete tool in a skilled operator’s hands.  She just needed to know if I was strong enough to not get rattled.

About half the girls I have picked up have at some point attempted to pull this maneuver.  Club and bar girls are the worst offenders because it is so easy for them to recruit an all-too-willing male foil from the crowd.

It used to chasten me.

Now it charms me.

There is one way to handle this final shit test that is absolutely GUARANTEED to work every time – walk away.

First, chat up the guy in a friendly manner to show you are unaffected by his presence.  Stay for a few minutes.  Smile.  Then, leave, preferably right in the middle of something you were saying to both of them to maximize the impact of your exit.  Give no explanation or excuse.  Just walk away casually and confidently to another floor of the bar.

Can you walk away from a girl in whom you have invested three hours of seduction?

Literally 30 seconds later she joined me downstairs — by herself.

Test passed.

It was funny how compliant and eager to please she became after that.

mood music

you’ve got her back at your place.  light dimmer pre-adjusted before you left for the night to

loooooooooooooow.  (you’re a good boy scout.  always prepared.)

bowl of chocolate covered strawberries on the coffee table.  you hand her some matches and ask her to help you light the candles.

(good job, son!  you know doing little things together increases her investment in you.  now she’s less likely to put up last minute resistance.)

you tell her to make herself comfortable.  you slip in a CD.  keep that volume at lubrication level, cowboy!  right around 3 is perfect.

it’s your go-to album for these extra special moments.  the first melodic frequencies reach out from the speakers and slowly unbotton her jeans.  oh yeah, nothing sets the sexy mood quite like this:

Fake Tits

I kept pulling up her shirt.  She resisted.  I pulled on her pants and panties.  They came off without much fuss.  Back to the shirt.  More resistance.  She’s tugging down on her shirt while her lower half is completely naked and grinding into my crotch.  Weird.  Are the boobs really that much more precious to a woman than the pussy?  Then I discovered the answer.

Fake tits.  Super fake.  Like the kind that bumped up an A to a C.  The kind where you could see the outline of the bag along the perimeter of the boob.  Unnaturally pert.  Egregiously firm.

But the worst?  The feel.  Under clothes, fake tits look great.  Superb, even.  Parade them around the National Cathedral and be the envy of your friends and neighbors.  But naked?  Disturbing visual.  And they felt like rocks stuffed under a nipple.

Rocks.

No soft supple malleable sponginess.  Just rocks.

Such a pretty girl.

So pretty.

So flawed.

As soon as my cupped hands encountered the immoveable objects that were her breasts, I knew she would never be girlfriend worthy.

What goes through a guy’s head when he’s got a hot chick halfway home to sex and he caresses silicone under a taut drum head of flesh?

I’ll tell you what.

Don’t give too much of yourself to this girl.  Keep it superficial, just like her tits.

This is a chick who lives and dies by her beauty.  A trophy wife in training.  A girl who doesn’t mind being an accessory on the arm of a powerful man who is fucking ten other women.  A strategist.  A status whore.  A decepticon.  A cipher.

A girl who reapplies her makeup every fifteen minutes.

And I was right.

There’s room in the world for those types of women.  Just not my world.

So I offer some advice to small-boobed women.

Don’t butcher yourselves.

You look great under a sweater with augmentation.

But I’m not fucking a sweater.

And that’s what really matters.

Isn’t it?

No, it isn’t?

Goodbye.





Warning:  I wrote this drunk and post-coital at 5am.  Reconsiderations pending.  Reader beware.

How to Own a Room

Unreconstructed barbarian Zeets called to give me a recap on his date with a girl he took to a popular local lounge.

Zeets:  It was all going well until I felt an explosion of gases in my intestines.  A deep rumbling.  I couldn’t do anything while she was there next to me.
Me:  Why not go to the bathroom?
Zeets:  Cream puffs excuse themselves to the bathroom to pass gas.  Real men wait for a clearing in the room and let it rip.  BRRRAAAPPP!  Anyhow, we were sitting down.  I don’t like to be rousted from a comfortable position.
Me:  Then you dropped a patented Zeets cluster bomb.  I remember those unfondly.
Zeets:  Oh yes!  Not right away.  I held it in for as long as I could, the pressure building, until we were ready to leave.  I hustled her ahead of me and stayed a few steps behind.
Me:  So she was out of smell shot.  How chivalrous.
Zeets:  There was a group of young luscious chicks on the dance floor… oh man, one of them was wearing black skintight leather pants… [pause to make inhaling through teeth sound… “oh yeeeeeeahhh”]… laughing and having a good time, probably students new to the city… exploring their world and their womanhood.  I got up and blasted them, one of my best yet.  Right in the middle of their tea time.
Me:  No fear.
Zeets:  Nope!  The music was loud so they didn’t hear it.
Me:  It wasn’t a smelly one?
Zeets:  Oh no, my friend, it was a smelly one.  As I walked out the door I heard the girls shrieking and yelling “PEW!”.  ha!  Perfect!  I left with a smile on my face.
Me:  And no one suspected anything.
Zeets:  Not a thing.  I bet they spent the rest of the night looking at each other and pointing fingers.
Me:  Besides the bodily functions the lounge worked its magic on your date?
Zeets:  Like an aphrodisiac.  It’s never let me down.
Me:  You like this chick?
Zeets:  Yeah, she’s fun.  Pretty.  We had a good, solid makeout.  With tongue.
Me:   That’s good.  What does she do for a living?
Zeets:  I don’t remember… some non-profit, save Darfur crap or something like that.

Attention to detail.  We have it ladies.  It’s just selective.

I knew a guy who was alpha by most people’s definitions — an Army soldier and lawyer by trade, built like granite, he was a fearsome warrior with a taste for fighting who could knock a man out with a punch that landed like a piledriver.  He walked with purpose everywhere and immediately cowed men into deferring to him when in social situations.  He once crashed at my apartment after a particularly rowdy night and my roommate at the time had the misfortune of walking in on him in the early morning as he rose from his slumber on the couch, butt naked, to greet him with a booming “Good morning, soldier!”  He was, according to my traumatized metrosexual roommate, hung like a Clydesdale.  Despite his strong manly presence he misspent his alpha capital picking up a parade of bar skanks and fatties in nightclubs — I never saw him with any girl better than a 5 — and pining for a lost ex-girlfriend (and by pining I mean seeking out the new boyfriend of his ex to deliver a flurry of violent blows.)

I had another friend, a good-looking successful businessman with a sharp wit and effortless charisma, who was always the center of attention in that very alpha way of not trying hard to be the center of attention.  The girls in our social group we used to hang out with all told me how much they wanted to date him.  And yet, in the couple years I knew this guy I don’t think he slept with more than three girls and never had a girlfriend.  Some flaw in his character hobbled him from reaching his full potential.  He eventually married a hot blonde, but for many years in his prime he completely squandered his alpha capital in the only way that really matters.

I mention these guys because they illustrate the confusion that arises when people attempt to categorize alpha and beta males.  These two guys weren’t perfectly alpha on paper – one had a beat up face and a half-empty wallet, the other was emotionally vacant — but they had enough of the important alpha qualities that they could have done a lot better with women than they did.  And yet, to an outside observer who didn’t know about their troubles with women, they would be considered archetypical alpha males.

Many want to believe that getting girls is ancillary to being a true alpha male; that the real measure of an alpha lies in his ability to dominate other men, or his command of his environment, or his thirst for swashbuckling adventure.  While these are admirable alpha traits, they are nothing but a means to an end.  Make no mistake, at the most fundamental level the CRUX of a man’s worth is measured by his desirability to women, whether he chooses to play the game or not.  Pussy is the holy grail.  That is why the obese, socially maladroit nerdboy who manages to unlock the gate to the secret garden and bang a 10 regularly is an alpha male.  And that is also why the rich, charming entrepreneur who because of an emotional deficiency or mental sickness lives mired in parched celibacy is not an alpha male.

Due to this enduring confusion about what makes an alpha, I submit the following system, in the form of a handy chart, to help clear the air.  It hits on the three major factors influencing male rank — how hot are the women he can attract, how strong is that attraction for him, and how many of those women find him attractive.

Keep in mind that there is no line in the sand that separates betas from alphas — the distribution of men by their attractiveness to women follows an uneven continuum where at the extremes a small percentage of alphas monopolize an immense number of quality women and a much larger blob of omegas struggle to rut with warpigs.

Male Rank        Hotness(F)    Strength of Attraction     # of Women
Dregs (lost souls)     N/A          Actively repulsed                Grinding celibacy
Lesser Omega          0,1          Will never feel love;              Dry spells >5 years
                                                   can’t keep a girl longer
                                                   than 3 days
Greater Omega       1,2,3       She loves houseplant more;  Dry spells 1-5 years
                                                  gets dumped for cat
Lesser Beta              3,4          She’s somewhere else          Gets lucky twice;
                                                    during sex                               marries hog
Beta                        4,5,6       Romance died after               6 month dry spells;
                                                  second date;                  marries dumpy hausfrau
                                                relationships last forever
                                                because no other choice
Greater Beta         6,7          Can do it with lights on;      5-15 lifetime partners
                                               once got a BJ in an alley;
                                               girlfriend cries after he
                                               proposes
Lesser Alpha         7,8         Consecutive long term         15-100 lifetime partners;
                                              relationships >1 year;              2 affairs
                                              enjoys occasional fling;
                                              girlfriend faints after
                                              he proposes
Alpha                     8,9         Concurrent multiple           100-500 lifetime partners;
                                              long term relationships;              10-20 affairs;
                                              love at first sight;                         2 threesomes
                                              videotapes homemade porn;
                                              girlfriend scared to
                                              pressure him into marriage
Super Alpha         9,10       Multiple long and short                     Limitless
                                             term relationships, flings,
                                             and one night stands; orgies;
                                             crazed stalker love; women
                                             willing to do anal at hello;
                                             maintains de facto harem;
                                             never cheated on, never dumped;
                                             hires contraceptive assistant to
                                             make sure his condoms don’t
                                             have holes punched in them

The Sexual Frame

One of the traits of the beta is that he is uncomfortable with animal sexuality — his own and especially that of the women he craves.  He is loathe to initiate contact, late to respond to flirtatious signals, and leery of acknowledging the raw sexual nature of women.  His unease with himself and with women’s equally ravenous sexual appetites compels him to constantly elevate women onto pedestals and to befriend them platonically before making his intentions known, if ever.  He thinks that expressing his sexual nature too soon or too boldly will diminish them both.  He simply cannot conceive a scenario where a sexy girl will make love to him on the first day they meet.  This straightjacket of limiting beliefs is why he fails.

A way to avoid these emotionally arid pitfalls is to adopt a frame of mind that is infused with sexuality.  Everything begins in the mind.  When I see an attractive girl across the room and start walking toward her I immediately picture her naked and writhing under my sheets, sweating in ecstasy.  When I am talking with her and it is clear that we click, I imagine what it would feel like to touch her bare skin.  I am kissing her before our lips have committed to the kiss.  As we delve deeper into conversation, a part of me visualizes peeling off her clothes and imagining transactions… scenarios… a dirty smutty world of possibilities.

This is how every man should approach his interactions with women he is turned on by – unapologetically, sensually, instinctually.  Civilized norms should hold no sway over your untamed thoughts or the id that fuels them.  They are yours to do with as you please and to set the tone of whatever follows.  The advantage to having this carnal mindset at all times lies in the power it gives you to draw women into your reality.  When a woman is into you she will sense your sexual energy and mirror it.  Your thoughts will become her thoughts.  Your desire hers.  Later after sex when she is lying in your arms and talking about what led to this point you will discover that she knew it was going to happen when you knew.

Lead as a man in making no excuses for your libertine nature, and she will follow.

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