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Archive for the ‘Hungry Hungry Hippos’ Category

In yesterday’s post, one of the beta male of the month contenders was a guy who had lifted a hideous chubster onto his shoulders (“Do I even lift? Why, yes, I do lift!”) so that she could flash the crowd of gawkers a pair of bee stings that Manboob Emeritus David Fatrelle laughs at.

Interestingly, as a reader pointed out, there’s a hidden shiv in this photo if you look closely and direct your attention to the grinning man in the black hoodie, front and center.

“Da fuckin’ tits and bellybutton look like a face!”

Sure, a chubster publicly undulating her naked rolls will achieve “attention” from men, but not all of it, in fact not much of it, will be the sort of attention she wants. Men gawk at naked fat chicks like they gawk at car accidents, or at Kramer’s self-portrait. “She’s a loathsome offensive beast, yet I can’t look away.”

So for all the fat and ugly and manjawed lawyer attention whores who like to clit-stroke on cue about the surfeit of male attention they get, it’s helpful to keep in mind that a lot of the so-called “attention” they think they receive from men is nothing more than the furtive ridicule of happy-go-lucky rogues.

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There’s a lot of chatter among the cuntocracy about how men aren’t “manning up” and doing their duty to marry off all the single ladies. But maybe, just maybe, part of the reason for this male abdication of the sacred institution of marriage is the poor quality of the women on offer.

Just how bad is the marriageable American female market? Jay in DC writes,

‘Hot 99.5′ is basically the hippest and most relevant DC radio station in that it has the youngest listener demographic.

They are currently holding a contest for “new brides” to post their hottest photo to win the contest (1,000 dollar prize). Now granted, more intelligent chicks are probably NOT going to put their pic out there. But there are about 100 submissions up there already so this is a pretty good cross-section of not only DC, but really the US.

Behold men, and look upon your ruination. Betas WILL marry anything. ANYTHING, and this is what keeps the perpetual cycle of disgusting fat entitled average americunts reproducing.

I really advise you take the 15 minutes or so to REALLY look at every photo. This is our future. Out of those 100 photos there are FIVE women I would date, a few more I would fuck, and 3 I would marry if they had the classic femininity to go with their looks.

That is a SAD ASS RATIO. 97 to 3 in a pretty good statistical sample are marriageable? Welcome to the USSA.

http://www.hot995.com/contests/summer-bridal-showdown/297456/Vote/photoDetail/402513

p.s. Don’t bother posting comments, they will be shot down in seconds, just enjoy the grotesquery that is these women in bridal gowns.

Browsing the blushing attention whores, I’d have to concur with Jay’s assessment; the majority of the American East Coast brides are beastly. Beauty and the beast, inverted.

Beta males won’t marry anything. That is a stretch. Ugly, older, masculine, and fatter women DO pay marriage marketplace costs that you won’t be able to readily discern in their smiling wedding day photos. The hidden nature of the cost does not preclude its exorbitance.

And what is that exorbitant cost? Settling. It’s all of the better men with whom the post-prime, pre-Wall, porky-princess American bride had to give up hope of fettering to a marital contract. As age, size and attitude veer away from the feminine ideal beloved by the vast majority of men, women will find it harder — sometimes impossibly harder — to land the man of their dreams. They will have to settle for second, third, or even 30th best if they want to be married at all.

And so what you don’t see in those blushing blimp pics are the men they truly wanted who pumped and dumped them, or ignored them for their prettier friends. What you also don’t see are the hapless losers who vowed last-ditch lifelong monogamy to a land whale in exchange for avoiding the walking death of incel, as their hearts privately sank away in forlorn regret.

That is the individual, human dynamic. What about the big picture? Interesting — in the horrible sense of the word — things happen when the supply of attractive women drastically shrinks in proportion to the supply of megafauna, feminists, careerist shrikes, manjaws, and bitter spinsters. When the marriage market essentially become an outpost of Wal-Mart (Wall-Mart!) — cheap, throwaway, high fructose corn syrup goods — men experience what could be described as an exogenous “restriction of range” problem when they set out to find marriageable women.

Instead of a normally functioning sexual market where men are presented with many options among marriageable women of varying degrees of attractiveness (who nonetheless meet the men’s threshold for long-term commitment worthiness), what transpires in a shit market like what we have now is a massive limitation in men’s acceptably attractive mate choices and a replacement with a dichotomous mate choice system. In a dichotomous mate choice system, beta males no longer have the luxury of choosing between, say, a feminine slender 6 and a tomboyish slender 7. Now they’re restricted to choosing between involuntary celibacy and marriage to a ghastly apparition.

Unfortunately for the progress of the human species, the male sex drive is so strong that more than a few hard-up betas and omegas will choose the sad, dreary marriage to a circus sideshow over the soul-crushing solitude of sexlessness.

Beauty is truth. CH is among the greats in asserting the truism of this plea for an aesthetic sensibility, and for good reason. When ugliness of body is the norm, ugliness of character and, ultimately, of nation is sure to follow.

Related:

obesity-map-GIF-j

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uned

Their body language is a dead giveaway. She’s leaning into him body and head, he’s leaning away from her. Charitably, he can’t support her weight. Uncharitably, he’s already withdrawing in preparation of the many years he has ahead to come to terms with his defeat.

The resolution isn’t strong enough to determine if his eyes betray the listless vacancy of a wed man walking.

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Girls may be sugar and spice and everything nice, but in the no holds barred, winner take all tournament to the procreative death known as the sexual market women are just as ruthless – perhaps more ruthless – than are men to their same sex competition.

How do women undermine other women? They employ two strategies.

1. Ostracism/shaming.

Ostracism is public shaming. And despite the torrent of nonsense, (of which feminists have a seemingly inexhaustible supply), asserting that men are the primary slut and fatty shamers, that honor actually belongs to women.

2. Disinformation.

The other tactic women deploy to kneecap their competition is far more invidious. Women are adept at the art of disinformation campaigns, a strategy that both superficially soothes the fragile egos of other women and manipulates them (borrowing a legal term) to declare against interest.

Disinformation is essentially the propagandizing of pretty lies. Its power rests on an implied flattery. “You don’t need to slim down to find love, because you’re great just the way you are!” The hope of disinformation propagators is that their marks are gullible enough to follow their bad advice, thus reducing the number of sexy female competitors for the tiny pool of desirable alpha men.

(Remember from the CH archives that women feel the pressure of the sexual market more acutely, in part because there are far fewer alpha men for all the women who want them than there are bangable attractive women for all the men who want them for at least a night.)

A classic example of strategy #2 is this PuffedHo demotivational poster.

bikini is now a synonym for elephant hide

Women, especially loser women, love love love to hear these platitudes that validate their romantic worth, but the reality that would result if women followed this deceptive advice is more fat and ugly women (waddling around beaches in tent canvases) and more desirable men focusing all their attention on shrinking numbers of slender women. A sexual desirability skew of this nature would be a godsend for the hotties, who would experience an increase in their options so profound that the entire SMV sorting system would seismically shift. Thin cuties would be able to amass multiple greater beta orbiters and extract commitment from alphas who would otherwise pump and dump them or ignore them for hotter prospects in a dating market within which female attractiveness was more evenly distributed.

It is therefore in the interest of every red-blooded man to call out this manipulative female bullshit wherever and whenever he sees it. It is his DUTY to warn women against the forked tongue of other women seeking to cripple their competition with fat and ugliness apologia. Beauty is truth. Aesthetics is no mere formality hinting at deeper revelations. Aesthetics IS revelation. Chateau Heartiste has made this maxim central to its mission statement with full understanding of its cosmic importance and its centrality to all that is good and true.

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Most of you are familiar with Occam’s Razor, the principle that of two or more competing theories to explain a phenomenon, the simplest one is likely the true one.

With a nod to Occam, CH introduces Orca’s Razor.

Orca’s Razor: Of two or more competing theories for why men don’t want to date fat chicks, the most spurious, most convoluted, and least plausible explanation that assuages the egos of fat chicks and their barely male enablers will be insisted as the correct one.

A case study of Orca’s Razor in action (via reader yeahokcool):

from the front lines of tortured logic (see comments):

guy: I’ve dated a lot of heavier girls and I’ve definitely felt the judgement from other men. The problem isn’t that men don’t like big girls; it’s that men don’t like the way other men look at them when they’re with big girls.

girl: Yeah, I don’t think this is commentary on forcing yourself to be attracted to someone who you’re not attracted to. It’s about letting societal pressure bully you out of being attracted to someone who you ARE attracted to.

reality: yes, you are being judged by other men and women because you are everyone innately knows that only losers are fat and/or date fat people. furthermore, women fail, yet again, to realize that their attraction to men is entirely different than men’s attraction to women. i love how much women (fat ones, particularly, i imagine) just WANT these comments to be true!

Orca’s Razor is in effect the inverse of Occam’s Razor. Instead of slicing away superfluous concepts, Orca’s Razor slices the most elegant explanation to shreds, and then presents as incontrovertible fact the id gruel that is a mix of the viscera of various feelgood theories that were made up from whole cloth with the express purpose of avoiding and nullifying the simplest and truest explanation for why men are repulsed by fat girls.

Occam’s Razor: Men don’t date fat chicks because fat chicks are disgusting to look at.

Orca’s Razor: Men don’t date fat chicks because men secretly like fat chicks but have to suppress their urges to avoid being looked at in a funny, judgmental way from other men.

Like most equalist cant, Orca’s Razor is poopytalk pumped at high volume to fill you to the eyeballs with shit so you’re blinded to reality. No one is ever truly blinded to reality, as we can see by the real life decisions that people make even inside hothouse leftoid reeducation camps, but that won’t stop the walrus warriors from rolling over to crush newborn realtalk that chafes their megafauna hides.

 

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E’rebody not in da club getting tipsy over this blubbery fat chick scene from a recent Louis CK episode.

For reasons that cannot be explained by the established laws of logic, a great hue and squeal from the ungulate freak parade has arisen to rejoice over this scene as a breakthrough for Realtalk™ about the lives of fat chicks.

“As brilliant as the speech is, and as brilliant as Baker’s performance is, what makes this work is Louie’s willingness to just stand there and take it,” Forbes contributor Allen St. John writes. “He makes a few lame gestures in self-defense, but even if Vanessa largely refuses to judge him, we don’t. Louie is a jerk.”

Baker told EW she thought the scene “was so beautifully written.”

“My interpretation of it was that she’s (telling Louie), ‘You saying, “You’re not fat,” is like saying, ‘The worst thing a woman can be is fat, so I’m not gonna call you that,’ ” Baker said. “Whereas she’s kinda like, ‘Yeah, I’m fat. You know, I’m nice, I’m funny, I’m cute — so who cares?’ “

Writing for the A.V. Club, Libby Hill applauded Louis C.K. for starting the conversation.

“No matter how sad it may be that the only way many will start to understand this maligned populace is if a white guy explains it to them, the fact remains that through the platform of his critically acclaimed show, Louis C.K. has given voice to the fat girl,” she writes.

Funny, all I saw was a fat girl bitch about how tough it is for her to date and have happy relationships. This is news to anyone? No, of course it isn’t. The keepers of GoodSpeak want this scene to stand in for a “national discussion” about yet another loser cohort of society so that they can mold the direction the ensuing “discussion” takes. And you can bet the direction the Hivemind keepers want to take it is toward more and more proselytizing about how wonderful it is to be a fat girl (fat men get a media pass from this supposed wonderfulness) and how easily fat girls can get men when they aren’t demanding that men stop ignoring them and love them for their inner beauty.

Frustratingly for the Hivemind, Chateau Heartiste exists to jam sand in their sophistic gears. For example, here’s the true message of the Louis CK fat girl screed with all the tears and passive-aggressiveness and barely concealed entitlement stripped from her big-boned frame.

FATTY: Why do you hate us so much?

That’s not hate, Ms Wideload, that’s disgust. Fat chicks are like wet dog shit. You don’t hate the dog shit, you just don’t want to step in it.

Now if the dog shit starts making a nuisance of itself, say, by getting in your face and demanding you accept its under-appreciated beauty, or by organizing dog shit advocacy groups to change culture and law to better accommodate the feelings of dog shit, and to persuade others to become more like dog shit, then one may feel actual hate toward the dog shit.

FATTY: What is it about the basics of human happiness, feeling attractive, feeling loved, having guys chase after us, that’s just not in the cards for us?

To ask is to answer. Romantic attraction is biological, which is ultimately genetic, which means it is unalterable by weepy protests to the contrary or by reeducation camps masquerading as sitcoms. Most men are as repulsed by fat women as most women are repulsed by weak men.

FATTY: How is that fair?

Fairness has got nothin’ to do with it.

FATTY: And why am I supposed to just accept it?

Because you don’t yet have the legal recourse to force men to bed with porkers.

FATTY: You know what’s funny? I flirt with guys, all the time.

The uglier the woman, the more actively she has to communicate her sexual receptivity.

FATTY: And I mean, the great looking ones, like the really high caliber studs, they flirt right back, no problem.

They know they have a better shot with your hot skinny friend if they’re magnanimous with you.

FATTY: But guys like you never flirt with me, because you get scared, like maybe you should be with a girl like me.

More like, they’re worried that flattering a fat chick will give her the wrong idea.

FATTY: You know, if you were standing over there, looking at us, you know what you’d see? That we totally match.

Fat chick projection. Physically a fat man and fat girl match, but men’s SMV is more than the sum of their fat deposits.

FATTY: Have you ever wooed a fat girl?

I’ve mooed a fat girl.

FATTY: Go ahead, hold my hand. What do you think’s gonna happen? Do you think your dick’s gonna fall off?

No, it’s much worse than that for the fat girl. His dick won’t do anything.

FATTY: You know what’s sad? That’s all I want.

Lack of options = low standards.

Some mush-headed liberals, though, are unhappy with the message.

But not everyone is a fan. Writer Dan Weiss explored the episode for The Concourse, noting that “there’s zero representation for actual FAs (‘fat admirers,’ which is admittedly a voyeuristic term; I prefer the classic ‘chubby chaser’) on TV.”

I prefer the term fatty fucker. And if the wailing of fat chicks is any indication, there aren’t nearly enough desirable fatty fuckers to feast at the porcine troughs of America’s fatties.

In this putatively “groundbreaking” Louis CK scene that has the Jezebel hags dizzy with the possibility of careening down a fresh semantic path that defies the mirror, Louis is no more a jerk than is any woman who turns down a man for insufficiently meeting her attractiveness criteria. But since the lamentable is a fat chick instead of an awkward beta male it’s socially acceptable to sympathize with her loser pain and revile the man who presumptuously clings to his outmoded sexual preference.

Conflict, and unfairness, are intrinsic to the sexual market. Attraction is innate and impervious to cultural campaigns to alter its algorithm. If fat chicks resent that, there is a solution…

Push away from the table.

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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.

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Still guessing?

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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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Fat apologists:

Environmental shocks:

Keepin’ it real.

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Facebook Likes are a cancer on society. They glorify feels and enervate reason. They abet lies and exile truth. But they do perform a valuable service for the keen observer of civilizational decay. The FB Like, and what gets Liked most, are revealing glimpses into a nation’s character, and especially the character of its women, for whom Facebook Likes are happy drugs for their gluttonous egos. Remove the Like, and severe withdrawal symptoms manifest, similar to the effects one sees from the psychological damage that incurs after an extended stint in an isolation chamber.

A reader passes along two telling examples.

I found these two pictures today on my FB friend’s feed.  (They aren’t my friends, fortunately, but they are friends of friends.)  Both got lots of “likes” and supportive comments.  I thought of you as soon as I saw them.

Since most of Facebook is a wasteland of middling SMV women patting each other on the backs for awe-inspiring accomplishments like getting knocked up by a black guy or sucking down in one gulp a boat of sugar through a straw, it’s fair to say that what gets Liked is what American women like. And what American women like is, to put a coarse point on it, a mountain of shit.

What do American women and their yappy beta orbiters like so much that they feel compelled to craft a public consensus of their PC boilerplate?
– Mystery meat fetuses.
– Interracial dating.
– Male empathy pregnancies.
– Fat chicks.
– Fat chicks feeding like swine on ice cream sundaes that could sustain a family of four for a week.
– Fat chicks feeding like swine while insouciantly arched eyebrows that demand acceptance leap from their bloated brows.

Could this country and its people be going down the shitter any faster? Forget Rome’s historical precedence. America is in double-time decline, setting new records of scraping bottom as we speak. I think I will dub this Millennifag cohort the Like Me Generation. “Like me, because if you don’t I’ll have a mental breakdown as the realization that I’m a mediocrity sweeps over me. Nothing less than total unanimity in judgment of my awesomeness and the rightness of my knee-jerk emotional opinions will keep me alive another day.”

Yeah, no. I think instead I will take this shiv and give it an extra twist in your guts, just because I like… yes, Like… watching you effete nancies and spluttering mutants scream bloody murder. And you know what? The country will become a place truly worth liking for your suffering.

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Have you ever wondered what drives some women to the cult of feminism, when every real world observation refutes nearly all the foundational premises of feminism? Why do so many women cleave to such a wrong-headed, insipid ideology?

Chateau Heartiste explained the phenomenon of feminism as shivvily as possible:

The goal of feminism is to remove all constraints on female sexuality while maximally restricting male sexuality.

Feminists, in other words, nurture a fantasy that by sheer force of blather they can remake the sexual market to suit their every whim and desire while curtailing to the maximum extent possible any romantic choice enjoyed by men.

This theory neatly clarifies the motives of all sorts of poopytalk that dribbles from the cheetos-stained lips of feminists. To wit:

Indignation over fat/slut shaming = Demands to be simultaneously as physically repulsive and depraved as one wishes while remaining attractive to any man one desires, regardless of men’s wishes to the contrary.

Social conditioning of sexual preference = Religious belief that men’s sexual preferences can be changed to find fat, ugly or old women attractive, while at the same time any preference women enjoy is empowering and immediately satisfiable.

Patriarchal oppression/privilege = Unfalsifiable rationale for the depressing consequences that unattractive women endure in the sexual market. Promotes idea that low SMV women can be happy once “male oppression” is defeated.

Rape culture = Limitless choice to women to redefine their sexual experiences however they please, (and to benefit from the labeling as they see fit). Men, in contrast, are burdened with automatically impugned guilt for any sexual transaction they may enjoy.

By the Beard of Amanda Marcotte, alongs comes ♥♥♥science♥♥♥ to slurp the CH knob to completion.

Value-added commenter (yes, value-added… hint hint to you dopier commenters) chris writes,

My God. I think he just described feminism here:

Second, high status and very attractive women need less help and protection from other women and are less motivated to invest in other women (who represent potential competition). Thus, a woman who tries to distinguish or promote herself threatens other women and will encounter hostility. According to Benenson, a common way women deal with the threat represented by a remarkably powerful or beautiful woman is by insisting on standards of equality, uniformity, and sharing for all the women in the group and making these attributes the normative requirements of proper femininity.

He is talking about this study here:

http://rstb.royalsocietypublishing.org/content/368/1631/20130079

Abstract:
Throughout their lives, women provide for their own and their children’s and grandchildren’s needs and thus must minimize their risk of incurring physical harm. Alliances with individuals who will assist them in attaining these goals increase their probability of survival and reproductive success. High status in the community enhances access to physical resources and valuable allies. Kin, a mate, and affines share a mother’s genetic interests, whereas unrelated women constitute primary competitors. From early childhood onwards, girls compete using strategies that minimize the risk of retaliation and reduce the strength of other girls. Girls’ competitive strategies include avoiding direct interference with another girl’s goals, disguising competition, competing overtly only from a position of high status in the community, enforcing equality within the female community and socially excluding other girls.

So feminists’ promotion of anti slut-shaming and anti fat-shaming and anti ugly-shaming and anti single-mother-shaming etc, is really just an execution of women’s intra-sexual competitive strategies. It’s the bottom third of women versus the top two thirds. Or perhaps it’s the bottom quarter, as if I remember correctly only 20-25% of women identify as feminist.

With knowledge such as this, you can easily reframe any leftist/feminist argument about a war on women as instead a war by the bottom loser women against the top successful women.

It’s the SU’s (Sluts & Uglies) versus the HB’s.

The benefit of such tactical reframing is; what woman wants to be seen as a loser (ugly and slutty) and not as a winner (beautiful and lovely)? What woman wants to belong to the bottom quarter and not the top three quarters? To admit this would be to destroy their feminine egos. With such reframing, you could get the hamster working for you.

Great stuff. It’s a nifty addendum to the CH Theory of Feminism above. Low SMV women embrace feminism as a social mechanism to alternately decrease competition from more beautiful women and increase the sexual choice of, and the access to societal (read: male) resources for, uglier women.

Elevating the status and the perceived value of the ugly and the monstrous, and simultaneously disparaging the normal and the healthy, is the true motivation of feminists. Their nefarious goal is the renormalization of society and the sexual market to a lower aesthetic; one that is more congenial to the fates of the unloved women.

Feminism is not about a war on women; feminism is a war OF women. Womano-a-womano. All that bleating about equality and judgmentalism and slut shaming and the patriarchy is just the squid ink ugly broads expectorate to give them a fighting chance in the all-against-all, zero-sum competition for mates.

Feminists will lose, of course. The sexual market cares nothing for sophistry. In the final analysis, only the boner and the tingle matter.

Interestingly, a case can be made — hell, a case WILL be made — that the American obesity epidemic and quack-wave feminism have risen in lockstep out of necessity. As the population of reproductive-age women has increasingly become fatter and uglier, the number of women needing the equalist semantics of feminism to assure their place at the sexual market table has grown (heh) accordingly. More fatsos = more equalizing cant.

So you see how obesity, feminism, and equalism intersect, interweave, reinforce, and gluttonously feed each other. CH makes no glib assertion when we compare the obesity plague to the ugliness and lies of feminism and equalism. They are all born of the same toxic mentality, issuing from the breast of the Lord of Lies himself, and their waste and foulness and repugnance and stink and deception flows outward like hellshit, suffocating truth and beauty under an ash cloud of offal.

To the casual observer, a random fat chick may seem to have no relation to, say, anti-white animus. But they are connected in ways deep and true, even if the players themselves remain unaware of their invisible binds. This is why, when you fight one, you fight the other. Strike a shaming blow against obesity, and you draw blood from a degenerate open borders scumbag and a screaming banshee pushing for women at the front lines.

As a count or countess of CH, your enemy is, and should always be, the enemies of truth and beauty.

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