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Pulled from a sexxxy players’ forum, here’s some advice for older (or younger) men who want to know how to handle large age differences, particularly as the issue applies to online dating, where inclusion of age in the profile is required.

I lie on my dating profile and put it 7 years younger.

When I get asked my age in person I tell the truth.

Then they say “but your profile says xx”

“Oh, yeah that’s because when I had my real age on there all these old chicks were messaging me as if I want that”.

Then I make a comical shudder.

Hasn’t failed me yet.

Almost poetry. Why does this work? One, he’s assumed the sale. “Why *wouldn’t* younger women want to be with me?” Girls love that. Two, he’s implied his high mate value. “I have options, and age-appropriate women aren’t one of them.” Three, he’s demonstrated that reckless, careless asshole attitude that drives women crazy with desire. “Yeah, I faked the funk. What of it?” Four, he’s implicitly qualified and complimented her. “I’m with you, which means you made the cut.”

This technique can be used for real world interactions as well. The effectiveness will depend to an extent on how invested in you she has become. If you later reveal your real age with an insouciant disregard for her potential outrage, her ability and willingness to forgive and forget will be directly proportional to the love, or lust, she feels for you. You can do this with a lot of conventionally perceived mate value negatives that may deep-six a courtship before it has had a chance to get off the ground. Strategically omit any facts about yourself that you suspect deviate from her “Mr. Right checklist” until a later time when her 463 bullet point checklist has surrendered to her one bullet point vagina tingle.

One other thing… as one of the forum members wrote, a redirecting, strategically deployed compliment can go a long way to defusing female indignation over your naughtiness.

When/if she finds out, just smirk, “did you really think I was 25?”.

Then be impressed at her ability to find out your real age. Chics love thinking they were clever and can’t be fooled.

This is Sun Tzu seduction: Using a woman’s fondness for flattery against her. Just be sure it doesn’t come across like a last-ditch hail mary. Delivery matters. Pleasantly amused surprise is what you should shoot for.

In big and small ways, social science studies have a habit of confirming many CH precepts. The latest finds that expensive diamond engagement rings and expensive wedding ceremonies are inversely associated with marriage duration.

This study was done by professors from Emory University. They found that U.S. adults who spent large amounts of money on engagement rings and/or their weddings were more likely to end up divorced!

According to the research, men who spent $2,000 to $4,000 were 1.3 times more likely to end up divorced than men who spent $500 to $2,000.

And when it comes to weddings, if you have a wedding that costs more than $20,000, you’re more likely to end up in “Splitsville!”

The average cost of a wedding in the U.S. is $30,000, according to “The Knot.”

Expensive rings and weddings are classic provider beta male game. And, as science is showing and the Chateau has warned, beta male game is ultimately self-defeating. Women don’t fall in love with a wallet; they fall in love with a man. They don’t desire a mate guarder who has to pay fidelity money; they desire a self-assured jerkboy who expects love free of charge.

And if you’re dating a princess who demands a big ring or ostentatious wedding, my advice is simple: Run. Don’t look back. The next day, you can admire the bulge of your full bank account and your spared dignity. I just saved you from hitching yourself to a woman who couldn’t really love you without a large gift bag included in the deal.

What studies like this one uncover is a bidirectional sexual market feedback loop: On one vector, you have a weak man who feels it necessary to pay for love and supplicate to his fiancee’s gaudy selfishness. On the other vector, you have an unenthusiastic woman who knows she is settling for a less desirable man in a trade-off between exciting sexiness and boring security, and who therefore feels empowered to make her sloppy second beta pay tribute to her in Damegeld. Where these two vectors meet, relationship exactness and complementarity trump love, and subcurrents of divorce are never far from cresting the polished dinner party surface.

Why Online Dating Is Limiting

Reader Just Saying offers a new way to look at the inherent shortcomings of online courtship.

Online Courtship Can’t Replicate Face To Face Courtship

Of course not – for a simple reason, when you are face-to-face they don’t compare you to their mythical ideal, they feel attraction and voila, the panties come off. But with an app they compare you to their “idea” of what they should date. That is much more limited, if you meet that criteria, you’re golden, if you don’t you won’t get any trim… Simple…

Remember, women cannot control whom they are attracted to – and it’s often almost the opposite of what they think they want. Heck, no young 18 yo old thinks, “What I need is a 50+ year old to plow me like a field.” And if they thought about it, they would walk, but when they are there and feeling the attraction – all of that doesn’t matter, their little rationalization hamster goes full speed later to justify what they are feeling, “Sure, he’s older, but that means we can do more, and it’s FUN.” I have one that loves it when people will refer to her as “your daughter” when we’re out, as she’ll practically attack me and then say something like, “He’s my step-father.” Just to shock them… That is what women live for – the excitement, and an “app” on a phone can’t deliver that.

It is that simple…

This is well said, and I extend Just Saying a CH Honorary Degree in Preening.

The fact is that any medium which removes context and nuance and body language from the courtship will invariably redound to the man’s detriment, because men are judged by women on far more than their looks. Online dating does not penalize women as much as it does men, because women were always judged first and foremost on their looks. A profile pic may be a flawed substitute for a 3D representation of a girl, but it’s still a serviceable substitute that gives men most of the information they need that they would similarly get in the field, (barring fatties and oldies posting inaccurate pics).

In contrast, men are more harshly penalized by a medium in which the profile pic is heavily weighted. Women are attracted to men’s personalities as much as or more than they’re attracted to men’s physical presences. Online courtship handicaps the ability of men to project, spoken and unspoken, those sexy contours of their personalities that arouse women. Yes, there’s the option to write a witty or indifferently douchey bio that captures some essence of the man, but the style and rapid-fire trawling of online dating sites conspires to focus the female mate judgement algorithm on the attached pic before anything else comes into view. Average looking men are at a disadvantage online that they wouldn’t be in the real world, where they could boldly approach women and force them to take the measure of all their cocksure attributes.

Online courtship isn’t hopeless. For some men — the top 5% in looks, the exceptionally witty who have cornered a niche market, the mass copypastas playing an urban numbers game, the convicts with internet access — online game is a useful adjunct to whatever fleshworld game occupies their time.

But don’t expect internet game to net you the high quality lays and high octane love that face to face game has the greater potential to deliver. In the field, you only have a woman to seduce. Online, you have to seduce her and her alpha male apparition. One hurdle is better than two.

A single mom asks “Prudie” for advice about how to stop her horny faphappy son.

Q. My Son Can’t Keep His Hands Off Himself: I am a single mother with a 14-year-old son. I knew this time was coming but now I fear I am close to my wit’s end. I have seen evidence in his bedroom, the laundry room, and the kitchen. I know this is normal, but how much is too much? Things escalated last week when his hockey coach called me in for a conference. I have noticed my son has been taking a lot of penalties this season. It turns out he has been intentionally going to the penalty box to pleasure himself. I lashed out at him when about this and things have been awkward around the house this weekend. Am I overreacting? I know I have to talk about this with him in a calm setting, but I always find the thought of this type of discussion horrifying. I am losing sleep and I don’t want to succumb to letting his father deal with this, but what should I do?

Prudie’s (aka Emily YOFFE’s) answer is mostly anodyne, though she can’t resist the femtard compulsions to demonize the biological father and rationalize cutting him out of the picture, and to suggest “therapaaaaaah” for the boy. Yes, that’s the answer to all the problems that boys cause empowered, independent women: Therapy. While you’re at it, why not pry his eyeballs open and have him watch 48 hours of uninterrupted footage of suffrage marches and The View?

“I don’t want to succumb to letting his father deal with this”

Gotta love the pathological, unrelenting selfishness of single moms. Yes, don’t succumb to letting the kid have a talk with his real dad about something that his dad would intuitively understand. Better to yell at him for soiling your cuntrags.

This story? This is future America. Those who are nonchalant about our coming single momhood dystopia take heed: Your world is about to fill up with a lot more crusted calling cards.

Fuck this gay earth.

The idea of a false rape accuser registry has been around for a while (most notably right here at Le Chateau), but lately it’s picked up momentum.

It’s time has come. More precisely, it’s time came ten years ago. We’re already playing catch-up.

False rape accusations put innocent men in jail where they are buttfucked by large black men. Feminists cheer this. Feminists are hateful cunts. It’s time to turn the tables on them and their manlet taint-lappers.

A publicly accessible list of women who have falsely accused men of rape they didn’t commit will go a long way towards shaming these succubi until they slice lengthwise. This will also serve as a lesson for the others.

Call it… David’s List. Would a diligent, energetic entrepreneur care to take up the challenge? Justice and righteousness will guide your path.

It’s becoming clearer with every close examination of the subject that online dating is a poor facsimile of real world dating. The latest social science shows that the Dunbar number — 150, the number of people of varying acquaintance an average person could reasonably manage in his social circle — doesn’t increase on social media virtual networks. In fact, the evidence suggests that online social networks degrade the quality of our more intimate inner circle relationships because we devote more of our mental energy to maintaining connections with distant people.

With social media, we can easily keep up with the lives and interests of far more than a hundred and fifty people. But without investing the face-to-face time, we lack deeper connections to them, and the time we invest in superficial relationships comes at the expense of more profound ones. We may widen our network to two, three, or four hundred people that we see as friends, not just acquaintances, but keeping up an actual friendship requires resources. “The amount of social capital you have is pretty fixed,” Dunbar said. “It involves time investment. If you garner connections with more people, you end up distributing your fixed amount of social capital more thinly so the average capital per person is lower.” If we’re busy putting in the effort, however minimal, to “like” and comment and interact with an ever-widening network, we have less time and capacity left for our closer groups. Traditionally, it’s a sixty-forty split of attention: we spend sixty per cent of our time with our core groups of fifty, fifteen, and five, and forty with the larger spheres. Social networks may be growing our base, and, in the process, reversing that balance.

Close real world friendships suffer when we whore for attention on Facebook from people we hardly know. It’s similar to how multitasking and clickbait internet distractions corrode our mental ability to focus deeply on a single topic. Our intimate relations and our creativity are both sacrificed in this new world mordor.

On an even deeper level, there may be a physiological aspect of friendship that virtual connections can never replace. This wouldn’t surprise Dunbar, who discovered his number when he was studying the social bonding that occurs among primates through grooming. Over the past few years, Dunbar and his colleagues have been looking at the importance of touch in sparking the sort of neurological and physiological responses that, in turn, lead to bonding and friendship. “We underestimate how important touch is in the social world,” he said. With a light brush on the shoulder, a pat, or a squeeze of the arm or hand, we can communicate a deeper bond than through speaking alone. “Words are easy. But the way someone touches you, even casually, tells you more about what they’re thinking of you.”

Once again, a game concept — this time, kino and the art of touching and physical escalation — is corroborated by ❤science❤. A player will communicate a lot of his sexual intention nonverbally, through escalating violations of his quarry’s personal space. If he is skilled, the woman will respond to his touches with intensifying attraction, and erotic thoughts will sabotage her efforts at studied indifference. This tension is what will make her seduction so memorable for her in days, and maybe years, to come.

One concern, though, is that some social skills may not develop as effectively when so many interactions exist online. We learn how we are and aren’t supposed to act by observing others and then having opportunities to act out our observations ourselves. We aren’t born with full social awareness, and Dunbar fears that too much virtual interaction may subvert that education. “In the sandpit of life, when somebody kicks sand in your face, you can’t get out of the sandpit. You have to deal with it, learn, compromise,” he said. “On the internet, you can pull the plug and walk away. There’s no forcing mechanism that makes us have to learn.” If you spend most of your time online, you may not get enough in-person group experience to learn how to properly interact on a large scale—a fear that, some early evidence suggests, may be materializing.

Thin-skinned, infantile, tantrum throwing, socially retarded internet SJWs explained. A little bit of pushback, and your typical online male feminist or fatty apologist shrieks in horror and promptly retreats to the comfort of a two liter Mountain Dew with a side of Cheetos.

“It’s quite conceivable that we might end up less social in the future, which would be a disaster because we need to be more social—our world has become so large” Dunbar said. The more our virtual friends replace our face-to-face ones, in fact, the more our Dunbar number may shrink.

Online dating is the perfect match for our sperged-out, credentialist suck-up culture. Static photos, a CV, and all the nuance, grace, subtle physical cues, playful expressions, and sexual tension stripped from the initial courtship maneuverings are exactly what America’s fearful androgynes want. It’s a world perfectly crafted by, or perfectly symptomatic of, the sexually neutered and psychologically withered beta males and the aggro, unfeminine, ego-salving bloat bodies that pass for females. There is even evidence now that relationships which form from meeting online are more likely to break up.

Call me old school, but I prefer meeting and seducing women in the flesh, where the pleasant discomfort of the moment can’t be escaped, our stats can’t be aridly collated and perused, my probing hands can’t be evaded, my warm smirk can’t be missed, my wordless entendres can’t be mistaken. The incitement and sustenance of a woman’s romantic attraction demands a… personal touch.

Anton Chigurh (watch where you point that thing) colorfully, Bukowski-ly, paints a picture of the current state of Western White Man’s self-annihilating mind.

“[re: Ebola], there is always something new out of Africa, and it’s all bad.”
LOL’ed

The elites in the West are so terrified of seeming racist that they’re apparently willing to kill us for it.

The West is like the stupid white girl at the bar who gets invited to go off on her own by a black guy. She is terrified of looking racist in front of her friends, one of whom is a black girl from the office who she likes to impress with her liberalism.

So she goes happily with the black fella, who turns out to be a savage niqger. Later, after the niqger brutally rapes her without a condom and leaves her in an alley for dead, she thinks, well, at least now everybody knows I’m not a racist.

A day later she sits in her hospital bed, recovering from her internal and external injuries and having contracted Ebola and AIDS. She will not survive this combination compounded by her weakened, broken body.

She hoarsely tells her friends visiting her, including the sassy black girl from the office who she wants so desperately to impress, “It’s not his fault. He had a hard life. He’s experienced racism his whole life. I know in my heart he just made a mistake. White people are so racist, and we made them slaves for like 800 years, sometimes they get angry. I don’t blame him.”

That’s the mass of Western whites right now.

White ethnomasochism evil is like Ebola: Super virulent, kills with impunity, spreads easily, but burns itself out before reaching truly pandemic proportions.

At least, that’s the hope. Anyone care to place bets?

Related, here’s one of the rotating header images I shamelessly pilfered from the Kakistocracy blog.

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