Archive for the ‘Dating’ Category

If you ever receive a dubious excuse from a girl who has cancelled a date at the last second, the best reply is an ambiguous one that could be interpreted as either sarcastic disbelief or sincere sympathy. For example,

GIRL: Sorry I can’t make it! My grandma fell and can’t get up. I have to take her to the hospital.

YOU: wow

That’s it. The insidious beauty of this one word reply is that, in the event her excuse was genuine, your muted exclamation can easily fill in as a plausible expression of condolence. If she’s lying, she’ll be psychologically self-groomed to interpret your “wow” as a jerkboy dismissal, and your value to her as a sexual being will go up.

“wow” is a great all-purpose ambiguous message that can springboard into all sorts of flirty conversation.

YOU: wow

GIRL: You don’t believe me? No really my grandma fell.

YOU: ok. say hi to grandma for me.


YOU: wow

GIRL: don’t be such an asshole.

YOU: wow that sucks. I hope she feels better.

You can really screw with a girl’s head if you’re familiar with the art of ambiguity.

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Assume The Sale Game

Here’s a conversation I had with a girl on the night we met. Some details have been redacted to protect the devilish.

Little Lord Lucifer: Go over there and do [X] for me.

Girl: And what would I get out of that?

Little Lord Lucifer: My approval.

Girl: (waits a beat, audibly snorts) Your approval! What does that even mean?

Little Lord Lucifer: It means exactly what it sounds like.

Twenty seconds of me warmly smiling and her accusing me of being “full of it” and “a psycho” elapse. Suddenly, she looks at me with widened eyes, her mouth opens a little, she cocks her head, and gets up to do [X]. She returns, mission accomplished.

Girl: (with feigned deference) Did I perform to your expectations, oh great one?

Little Lord Lucifer: Yes. Thanks. I approve.

Girl: (sarcastically) Oh, I am SO relieved to be in your good graces!


Now, there’s a couple sociosexual dynamics going on here. There’s the obvious one that she did the thing I asked of her. Sarcastic intent notwithstanding to the contrary, I raised a hoop and she jumped through it. All that her consent required was my rock-solid frame and confidence that she would do it. Overconfidence is the heart of game.

Two, even when humorous or sarcastic intent guides a woman’s compliance — as if she was role-playing for the amusement of both of you — the physical motions of going through with the request will generate real feelings in her of slightly lower value and submission to a higher value man. This phenomenon is like the inverse of power poses, where instead of elevating one’s confidence and self-assurance through behavioral cues, one evokes feelings of submission and deference through “powerlessness poses.”

All of this psychological legerdemain acts on the abacus of subconscious mate evaluation. PUAs call it subcommunication, and it’s a powerful, if mischievous, means of strengthening attraction in women.

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1. Girls love selfish badboys.

2. Nonconsensual erotic rape fantasies are more common among women than previously thought.

3. Girls love dominant men who take what they want.

4. Girls hate men who do as they’re told.

5. Girls hate sensitive, emotionally available men.

6. Girls love men who take charge.

7. Girls love it when men touch them without asking.

8. Girls love men with “appetitive-aggressive” tendencies.

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Read this OkCupid profile and try to guess the sex of the person who wrote it.

Don’t read further until you’ve made your guess.




Still guessing?











These are your American women. Delightfully feminine bunch, ain’t they? This profile, minus a few giveaways, could easily pass for the braggadocio of a fraternity brother.

And brow-furrowed femcunts wonder why men won’t “man up” and marry these drunk slatterns.

The blocked out part was a brag about her blowjob technique. Translation: She’s a fat sow who has to advertise her sexual depravity to get any attention from the losers she likely hooks up with once in a fat moon.

Grotesqueries like this beast exist. The revelation for a lot of people would be the kind of “lovers” she manages to score. I bet a lot of proud feminists claiming satisfying love lives would abandon the opinionator sphere if pictures of their “””boyfriends”””” and unbiased third-party accounts of the charming personalities of the men who lap the smegma of their moldy feminist snappers were to become public knowledge.

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The post subject says it all. A reader asks,

Read your site regularly. Thanks for the time and effort.

Interested in your thoughts: I’ve got a recent girlfriend- good looking, moneyed background, sweet girl but lots of confidence.  She is, however, outright jealous- or at least catty- about an ex of mine who she has found notes from and a couple pictures of us together.

She recently lost her phone and asked to temporarily borrow my old one.  While sanitizing it I found found a few nudes my ex sent me.  She looks good.  Do I leave them and stoke the flames further? Or leave it to simmer? Opportunity or foolishness?

A girlfriend who is excessively jealous of an ex-girlfriend of comparable SMV is projecting a desire to have a boyfriend who is adept at attracting other women. The catty jealousy is manufactured drama that she indulges because it serves the purpose of making her more attracted to you. You may consider this flattery… or a warning sign of troubles ahead.

If your ex is hotter than your current girlfriend (be honest with yourself), the jealousy is nothing less than raw insecurity. Women know, despite their socially acceptable protestations to the contrary, what really matters to men. A hotter ex-girlfriend translates as a greater risk of you trading up in the near future.

My answer is partly dependent on which of the two contexts above is relevant to you. If you get the sense that your girlfriend is very much in love and her jealousy is revealed insecurity, the smart move is to delete the photos so she doesn’t see them and melt into a puddle of manic self-doubt. (The smarter move is to not let her borrow your phone so that you may keep the photos for your old age when the nostalgic masturbation material will come in HANDY.)

But if she seems like the drama-prone type (INFIDELITY ALERT) and her jealousy strikes you as deliberately hyperbolic, you may want your girlfriend to “accidentally” come across those nude photos of your ex as a means of assuring she stays in your orbit. A drama queen needs these occasional reminders of your surfeit of sexual market options. Keep the ho on her toes.

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We sat in a window box of the cafe. Warming sunlight marched through and glittered off her black hair. As I spoke absent-mindedly about a girl I loved whom I recently lost, barely comprehending in my stream of consciousness that I was airing my inner thoughts, a sunshaft grazed her cheek and I saw that she was silently crying. Two soft tears traced slowly downward, framed within an expressionless face. The effect hit me hard, not because it was the first time I made a woman cry from sheer carelessness, but because her tears were so incongruent with her personality. She was an Ivy-educated business consultant, easily turning six figures, ambitious, sure of herself in ways she thought mattered, and to the undiscerning eye cold and opaque.

She was also pretty, but the timing of our fling threw her orbit away from mine. Pleasing enough, she regrettably didn’t press my buttons like my recent ex-girlfriend had. And so, when she earnestly pried for my truest feelings, she received in return the fate of suffering reckless confessions she didn’t want to hear. My emotions were raw, and I unloaded on her callously as she took my strafe on every flank. Not meaning to hurt her, I had, and every time we had sex since then, over the following weeks, it ended with her tucking her knees under her chin naked on the bed to quietly cry into the wrapped bubble of her body.

When my one-sided conversation with the cosmos had finished, and her tears had shocked me back to empathy and guilt, she choked out a tiny utterance that I’ll never forget. A simple, endearing question: “So you really liked this girl?” Imagine for a moment the excruciating hollowness of unreciprocated longing that the friendzoned beta male feels as he patiently abides his love’s encomiums to another man. Women can feel this way, too.

I crashed back into her presence. Now all I could think was making amends and, truthfully, a part of me wanted to preserve for a while longer the usefulness of her distractive adoration in my time of need.


I surprised myself at the forthrightness of my answer. Quickly recalibrating, “…but I could see it coming, so maybe it’s all for the best.”

She coaxed a crooked smile, but I had sunk her. She knew in that bright cafe that we would never be more together than a pleasurable temporary escape. Already approaching thirty, the weight of it landed in the breadbasket of her soul.

These stories locked in time offer lessons for times yet to come. What I had unknowingly, accidentally, obliviously, and with quite sincere effort done to this woman was run an extreme version of Disqualification Game on her. That confessional about my recent ex, the sincerity with which I expressed my confusion and unresolved desire, the indifference to how it might be received by present company, sent my replacement lover into a tailspin. She felt stronger love for me at the same time she felt the sadness of our inevitable, arriving end. Thus, our sex life carried on while her tears flowed heavier with accumulating grief.

What was accidental can be made intentional for one’s personal advantage. “I’ll always have this thing for my ex” Extreme Disqualification Game can, if delivered without a hint of manipulative urgency (almost as an afterthought), greatly increase a woman’s attraction to you. She’ll see herself as the one who can make it better, or steal your heart away, if you’re careful to stop just short of killing her hope outright. You’ll be a challenge too irresistible to some women, especially women with options, and if you parcel your redirected romance into hamster-sized pellets that make her feel as if she’s slowly winning you over, you’ll have from her a love that can transcend all other arid considerations women tend to autonomically jot down on dating profiles or personal ads.

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At yet another internet portal leading to a giant flapping angry vagina, a bitchy woman reveals, unintentionally, hilariously, a list of 22 excellent negs, teases, challenges, and disqualifications that would work very well as pick-up tactics. She begins,

Don’t say any of these phrases to a girl. In fact, don’t even think them around girls. If you do, be prepared for the wrath.

What follows is not so much “the wrath” as a bandwidth-eating mess of GIFs which she uses as a crutch to compensate for her total absence of a sense of humor. Like other bishes of her kind, you can properly assume that when a blogger bish gets all wound up with no where logical to go, she’s recently been dumped by an aloof alpha lover and is trying to assuage her butthurt ego by pretending it was his lack of betaboy politesse that really caused the breakup. This is never more apparent than when the limbically bruised bish logs online to vent her spleen about a laundry list of supposed horribly inconsiderate alpha male habits that… coincidentally!… every man she’s ever banged and prayed would become her long term boyfriend exhibited in her company.

Here’s her list, minus her vapid snark. You tell me if you don’t think these are the sorts of lines that natural womanizers employ with impunity.

1.”You look really tired.”

Tingles are born in the defensive crouch.

2. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

This is a great opener, especially if paired with a long pregnant pause, followed by some silly construct, like “Don’t take this the wrong way, but……….. paper or plastic?”

3. “You remind me of my mom.”

Fantastic neg. Is this a bad thing, or a good thing? It’s not like you think ill of your own mother.

4. “Are you on your period?”

This is a version of “nuke the hamster from orbit” game. “Are you on your period?…. Because I heard that girls who drink gin and tonics are flowing like the Nile.”

5. “Are you wearing that?”

This line provides a good conversation thread break to what you think would look good on her.

6. “You might be able to fit into this.”

Spin, hamster, spin.

7. “Your sister is so hot!”

Neg. Is she chopped liver by comparison, or does hotness run in her family?

8.  “You have a really pretty face.”

This is what the bish wrote: Just my face? What, you made it past my neck and decided that the rest of me was hideous? And that, gentlemen, is exactly what a tight neg is supposed to accomplish.

9. “Your hair looks way better (shorter, darker, longer, up, etc.).”

Chicks dig a judgmental man. Why? Because it means he can afford to be judgmental.

10. “You’re still hungry?”

#FatShamingForever. Nip that Jabba wannabe in the bud.

11. “Why are you freaking out?”

This tactic is less effective within the firm shell of a relationship than it is when unloaded during the dating period. All I can say is that if you have a girlfriend who freaks out a lot, you’re better off telling her to stop than asking her why she won’t stop.

12. “Didn’t you wear that last week?”

Related: Classic PUA neg: “Great dress. It must be popular. I saw two girls wearing it last week.”

13. “You ask a lot of questions.”

This line is very effective when delivered on a first or second date. It immediately imbues you with an air of mystery while insinuating that the girl is so into you she can’t help but be curious.

14. “I don’t know if I trust your cooking.”

Great challenge that can lead to a funny conversation.

15. “It’s not you; it’s me.”

If a man says this nowadays, he’s obviously being ironic. Or a mischievous asshole. Translation: He doesn’t care what you think of the line.

16. “Is that your real hair?”

Neg. Chicks will claim it’s offensive, but their muff moistening belies their words.

17. “Don’t be mad; I was just kidding!”

This is actually the one line on the list that men should avoid saying. Not because it’ll make the girl mad, but because it’s supplicating and unattractive.

18. “Are you sick?”

If a girl gets this line a lot, she may want to see a doctor.

19. “You’re crazy.”

Challenging a girl to prove she’s not crazy is liable to make her even crazier… thinking about you.

20. “You have a lot of feelings.”

:lol: Love the ambiguity.

21. “Calm down.”

Sean Connery knows how to calm a woman down.

22. “How much do you weigh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m curious. You have the body for a bobsledder.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Hey, bobsledders are HOT. Do you have a problem with bobsledders? My beloved grandmother was a bobsledder, and she was CHOICE back in her day.”


Programming note: It’s a good time to reflect how fantastically obnoxious American women have become. Ladies, if you’re reading, a helpful tip: You have to work to please men as men work to please women. Somewhere along the way, a fat lot of you forgot that simple truth, thinking that the world, and the world’s men, owe you something for nothing. Worse, owe you for acting like roaring cunts. Rest assured, reality will set you right in short order.

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Your lovable overlord CH is on record advocating the “Boss-Secretary Sexual Strategy” (BoSSS) to reduce income inequality and increase the fertility rate among the better classes.

Fisher agress with the CH diagnosis of the postmodern West that the end days of a civilization are characterized by an exaltation of deviancy (equalism) and a debasement of normalcy (sophism). We in the West long ago abandoned our barbarian ethos. In return for this “moral progress”, we have limitless pleasures of the flesh and material comforts. But we also have complacency, self-annihilating moral universalism, and infertility. Perhaps a return to barbarian values is just the medicine to save the West from a long walk in the shadow of the valley of death.

The patented CH solution to dysgenic fertility is to break the stranglehold of assortative mating by IQ that is currently aided and abetted by the helicopter parent ethos, and return to traditional pairings of powerful, high ability men with pretty but less educated and accomplished women. Call it the CH boss-secretary sexual strategy to renew Western vitality. This will increase fertility, increase total happiness, and decrease the degenerate SWPL culture monolith that is at the lead of decivilizing and ethnically cleansing great Western nations.

Silly reader, you thought it was a self-amusing exercise in hyperbole. Oh no.

Has there been an increase in positive assortative mating? Does assortative mating contribute to household income inequality? Data from the United States Census Bureau suggests there has been a rise in assortative mating. Additionally, assortative mating affects household income inequality. In particular, if matching in 2005 between husbands and wives had been random, instead of the pattern observed in the data, then the Gini coefficient would have fallen from the observed 0.43 to 0.34, so that income inequality would be smaller. Thus, assortative mating is important for income inequality. The high level of married female labor-force participation in 2005 is important for this result.

Science and CH… ♥♥♥ together!

Assortative mating is creating an Eloi-Morlock, or Elf-Orc, social stratification. People are forming credential-based blocs and seceding economically and socially if not yet politically. This cultural secession is reinforcing mutual ignorance, dampening mutual sympathies, and hollowing the natural fellow-feeling that is the bedrock foundation — the first principle — of any nation that wishes to carry forward in prosperity for the benefit of its posterity. Explosive diversity amplifies the stratification, and may have even been the fission reaction that set this immolation aflame and hardened hearts in its crucible of crisis.

The deadly chain of assortative mating must be broken for Western civilization to have a rebirth of greatness. The way to do this is the BoSSS system. BoSSS men will marry pretty secretaries or other occupationally “lowly” women instead of acquiescing to the hitch of convenience with multiple-degreed lawyercunts. The result of a generation of BoSSS is an end to the reign of meritocratic lovelessness, cognitive and geographic cocooning, and class-fueled hatred. An end to late-in-life spergs borne of the desiccated wombs of overeducated cougars. An end to the swarm of communications graduates with nothing to offer in a modern tech-centric economy. An end to… dare my heart speak it!… feminism and equalism as mass delusions rationalizing a world tearing apart.

There will be those who protest that BoSSS is dysgenic. But they operate under a misconception about how exactly women’s value in the mating market is calculated. A woman’s mate worth is not measured by her years toiling in grad school, or by her achievements, or by her ambition, or by her social connections or her business acumen. It is measured by her beauty, her femininity, and her compassion. The secretary with the blazing blue eyes, hourglass figure, and heart of gold is worth, in the abacus of men’s desire, more than a thousand meticulously credentialed globalist form factors. She is true beauty to the ascendent ugliness looming around her.

And she needn’t be dumb, either. Many sweet, charming “lower class” women are sharp as tacks, despite their mortal sin of having not willingly endured 52 years of academic mind meld to the equalist borg.

CH said it once, and says it again: It’s time to return to the old, true ways. To a courtship arena that paired established men with pretty young assistants full of adoration and admiration. It is the natural order of things, the divine prescription, when the starry-eyed lovely, already gazing in welcome submission, completes the act of her surrender to the powerful man above her. And in so doing, circles back to the wisdom of the ancients, and casts to the everlasting darkness the jackal harridans of the globo-femcunt credentialist collective.

I tell you now, break these assortative mating chains! Free! Free! Free at last! Thank God Almighty you are free at last to pursue love with a cute, worshipful underling and be a happy man again!

PS: There are plenty of reasons why CH rails against the obesity epidemic so passionately, but one is that it’s easier for high status men to date “occupationally lower” women if those women still have their exquisite figures.

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Have you ever banged a woman you thought was impossibly hot, too hot for a mere peasant boy like yourself? Chances are, you haven’t. Most men don’t reach for the ass ring. Fear — and sometimes experience — cultivates an exquisite sense for one’s sexual rank, and an avoidance mentality that preempts rejection by sultry specimens thought to be “out of one’s league”.

But most men are not all men. A few warriors of the whiskered wound have banged out of their league, and lived to tell of the tail. Men with game will occasionally, maybe even often, bang women considered by the general population to be too beautiful for them. Other men will luck into an amazing fling with a superb hottie. Usually, some combination of fortuitous circumstance and seduction skill is the backdrop to a stunning mismatch between a regular guy and a boner fried bombshell.

In before the trick-less trolls and baffled haters hijack the substance of this post to nasalize their belief that men’s sexual value is judged by the same looks metric as women’s sexual value, let it be hammered into their blocklike skulls (again) that women judge a man’s mate worthiness by many measures, not least of which is his social value and his seductive savviness. So when we say that a man is shooting “out of his league”, we don’t necessarily mean the spectacle of a very ugly man with a beautiful woman (though it could mean that). We could also mean a man who compares favorably in the looks department with the woman he is dating, but who falls short in other equally important criteria. A good-looking but socially awkward nerd with a hottie is one such mismatch that strikes a discordant note on observers’ pattern-recognition tuning forks.

With that anti-hater disclaimer out of the way, we can move on to the meat and potatoes. Kai Peter Chang, a self-professed informal dating coach and boffer of beautiful babies, describes his experience dating what he figured (that’s the important qualifier) was a woman way out of his league.

Have you ever had the experience of getting a taste of a life light-years above your social class/station? 

Perhaps it’s being a guest at an extravagant $200,000 wedding thrown by a distant relative you barely know. All you can do is marvel at the gorgeous decor and decadent food you can never afford on your own.

Perhaps it’s a wealthy uncle/friend-of-a-friend who inexplicably allowed you take his $120,000 sports car for a spin around the neighborhood. All you can do is pray you don’t crash the car, or pop the clutch and embarrass yourself.

Perhaps you were summoned to an urgent work meeting that requires your presence thousands of miles away, and your employer authorized you to fly on the company jet (ordinarily reserved for its top executives). All you can do is fantasize about the day you’re powerful/rich enough to use a private jet for all your travel.

TL;DR: it’s like that – but involving the deepest part of sexuality and romance.

[A] number of years ago, I dated someone substantially “out of my league” for almost a year.

Her: a former Miss Hong Kong pageant gal, B-list actress/model/TVB television personality. In her prime, she was courted and pursued by the super-Alpha kings of Hong Kong: A-list movie stars, million-record-selling musicians, property tycoons, CEOs and power brokers at the apex of Hong Kong society.

Me: At the time, a Mergers & Acquisitions Analyst at an investment-banking firm – an easily-replacable cog in a financial behemoth, four years her junior. During that period, I commanded a low five-digit net worth, and no status to speak of. A nobody.

She told me afterward that she gave me her number because she was amused by the fact that I clearly didn’t recognize her; in Hong Kong, the only strangers who approach her are autograph-seekers and those who want to pose with her for a photo and I was utterly oblivious to her stature when I was flirting with her.

Nice neg.

It is also helpful to note that during this time, I was at still in first blush of youth – a few years out of college, filled with brazen and unrealistic cocky ambition of what I can accomplish, arrogant to the point of delusion, and impervious to feedback/advice.

I was also insecure as hell, and in complete denial about it.

With all that backdrop, the question was how did it feel as the “lesser” partner?

It was flattering, thrilling and unnerving all at once.

The more beautiful women you bed, the less unnerving (and thrilling, sadly) it becomes. You start to internalize the belief that you deserve them. This is the asshole’s secret of success.

Dating far above my station gave me a glimpse of the life that exists at a completely different strata of society. Growing up a son of broke-ass immigrant parents and attending public schools my entire life surrounded by others of modest immigrant socioeconomic background, the first thing that stood out was her nearly-unlimited access to favors and accouterments of her elevated station.

When you socialize with people who own spare yachts, faraway luxury properties and infrequently-used personal jets, you can cobble together an impromptu exotic vacation with a few phone calls. It will end up costing you little more than the price of a full tank of jet/yacht fuel and the promise of reciprocity of access to your own toys/properties at some unspecified future date.

I, of course, had nothing to offer in these types of trades – and that knowledge was a source of gnawing insecurity; while I was stupidly confident that I was just a few years/career moves away from joining the company of Hong Kong aristocracy on my own, my immediate financial circumstances were far more modest and I flew Coach to visit her, while she flew First Class or via private jet to rendezvous with me.

If you doubt your worth to a woman, she will feel compelled to agree with you. If you don’t doubt, neither will she.

The clandestine nature of our relationship (officially, she was the spoken-for consort of a powerful Hong Kong property tycoon two decades her senior and her lifestyle was bankrolled by his largesse) added a further element of illicit excitement; it was thrilling to be checking into hotels under fake names, arriving to locations at staggered times to avoid being seen together in public.

The sneaky fucker MO. It’s exciting because you know you’re getting something for free (outstanding pussy), that other men have to pay for in yachts and high society access.

In retrospect, I now understand what she meant when, right before the first time we slept together, she whispered in my ear “Please don’t fall in love with me.”

She was wiser and more pragmatic than I; she knew, better than I did at the time, the ephemeral nature of our doomed fling.

After several months of our relationship – which consisted writing letters to each other (she has a gorgeous, calligraphic handwriting and a wry playful prose that was a delight to read) and time-zone-spanning international phone calls, interspersed with week-long face-to-face rendezvous where we exhausted ourselves in hotel rooms in various locations along the Pacific rim, she tearfully confessed “Do you remember what I said to you that first night? I’m having a hard time following my own advice.”

It was as close as she could get to tell me she loved me, but it was clear that whatever we had would end someday.

Better to have loved a hottie and lost her, than to love a fug and keep her.

No doubt losing a pathway to high grade pussy is a blow to a man’s pleasure center, if not also his ego. But it was more dangerous for her to fall in love, because the nature of woman doesn’t allow for shared love between disparate men who offer her competing comforts beyond the wildest dreams of the average representative of her sex. She risked discovery, and the concomitant loss of feminine prestige and resources from her richer suitors. Truly beautiful women possess a degree of pragmatism that those who have little to lose can barely comprehend. Although if your charm is mesmerizing and your confidence imperturbable her love can bond her so tightly even the baubles of princes won’t steal her from your embrace.

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A (possibly foreign) girl writes about a dilemma that should be familiar to any pretty woman with dreams of alpha males pledging devotion dancing in her bed,

I am writing to ask you a question related to dating and marriage. Just what you wanted to and so rarely hear :) First, to introduce myself, I am what most men would rate as an 8, or on a really good day perhaps a 9, [ed: legit] am 26, and really only date alpha males. I can’t help it, I like the fire that can burn me. My last two boyfriends were both extremely charismatic, successful, magnetic et al and I spent a year with each before I realized they had something in common: aversion to marriage. Both were around 33, an age when many men begin to consider that stuff, in my opinion. My question is this:

As I am 26 and not going to be more attractive in five years, and I would like to get married within that time frame, how do I go about eschewing the alphas who are not interested in me for marriage? Should I start directing my attentions to the ones around 40 and up? Right now I can have my pick of most men, though it will not always remain thus, but as alphas are harder to marry than other men and commitment is what I want, should I redirect my attentions towards betas?

Of course perhaps it was just me that neither wanted to marry, but it was the reason for both breakups, and really I would rather not waste my time/energy/looks/emotions on men who just want to enjoy me for a year or two….

Anyway I appreciate you taking the time to read this and if you decide to post this and answer it on your website, feel free to, but please alter my name. Thanks :)

A critical detail remains unanswered: Did you initiate your break-ups with the last two alpha boyfriends? If not, you are probably dating out of your league — that is, you are fucking men who don’t think you have the goods to persuade them of an early retirement from the field — and the men decided your marital ultimatum, or innuendos of marital ultimatums to come, was a cramping of their style they couldn’t tolerate. So they dumped you while the dumping was good.

If, however, you did initiate the break-ups, it suggests your exes thought well enough of you to stick it out for as long as possible, holding out the hope of nuptial rewards until you called their deceptive feints. In this scenario, you are not dating out of your league so much as you are experiencing what it’s like to be with men who have the hearts of cads, but love you nonetheless.

My advice, should you choose to accept it:

Yes, dating older men is a solution. An older alpha male begins to feel two pressing awarenesses: his posterity, and his mortality. In this psychological stew, the love of a younger, loyal woman beckoning him to surrender his bachelor freedoms is a temptation hard to resist. But, if this is not an option…

Pursue the greater beta male. Often, the only notable differences between an alpha male and a greater beta male are the former’s superior charisma and the latter’s superior commitment. If you can suffer the even-temper and placid mood of the greater beta for his gift of marital capitulation, you will live a happy life. If not, prepare for my final piece of advice…

Continue your Sisyphean quest for the magnetic alpha male who inflames your ichor yet who is also willing to abide your peculiarly female constraints on his vital energies. These men do exist, but they’re rare. Not quite phantoms, but you’ll have to hunt them down. To start, you must identify warning signs of flightiness, and hopeful auspices of lifelong devotion.

- Is he a social king? The man who holds court, holds the love of many women. Try to date men who are less extroverted. The alpha introvert is socialy savvy, but he also prefers his solitude. This desire for solitude is correlated with conscientiousness, low impulsivity, and affinity for home and hearth.

- Are his parents still together (if alive)? The faithful apple doesn’t fall far from the tree of fidelity. Don’t underestimate the influence of genes on behavior.

- Has he dated and dumped a lot of beautiful women? Red flag.

- Are you better looking than his exes? You may be the one to quell his urge to wander.

- Is he willing to wait more than three dates before having sex with you? Hopeful auspice.

- Does he go out of his way to learn things about you? He’s smitten. (Or he’s a grandmaster player.)

- Does he have a (big) dog? He’s got an incipient paternal instinct.

- Is he politically conservative? If so, he’s more likely to want to marry and raise a family.

- Are his friends womanizers? He’s sympatico with the swinging scimitar lifestyle.

- Is he an epicurean of food, drink and art? He might also be an epicurean of women.

This is a partial list to get you started. One other thing. Beware prowlers bearing charming wit. Unlike men you meet within your social circle, the lone wolf does not come favorably endorsed nor does he fear betraying your friends’ trust.

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