Ryan explains the silent conversation that goes on between a women’s vagina and brain when she listens to a man insinuate his higher value:
How to overtly DHV without overtly DHVing:
Roleplay as the super-cocky asshole. Flash a crooked smile while you brag shamelessly. Make it a shit-eating grin every time you manage to effortlessly tease across her alleged line. Dismiss all those playful attempts to dethrone your ego. When she tries to flip the script by leading you into obvious absurdity, assume a position of faux-humility and make fun of her ridiculous suggestion.
Never speak what you both know. Subconsciously, she’s thinking:
a) He can actually pull off being an asshole quite well; and without fear of rejection or repercussions, so he’s not just a bitter, cowardly wannabe…
b) But he’s also mocking the guys who are legitimate assholes — the guys I typically tingle for — with amusement, as if he’s above them…
c) I’m superficially getting all the excitement and ego-management I crave from jerks, yet possibly without the inevitable negative aspects, which require so much tedious rationalization…
d) Brain: Uh oh.
Vagina: Send that arrogant smooth-talker my way.
B: Hasn’t ended well in the past…
V: Just do it, bitch. Now.
B: Can’t you at least pretend to persuade me? I’ve got a self-image to protect here, and we’re both gonna need it one day so that I won’t give off slut-tells. I’ve actually been reading some stuff by Robert Trivers lately about the function behind —
V: Alriiiiight, all right. Geez. OK, here: can you just try focusing on the possibility that this is the one special exception, then, instead of, well, the high probability that this is, like every time in the past, just a case of me recklessly getting us into some shit and asking your hamster to bail me out?
B: Is that sarcasm?
V: Oh, right. See? Nothing to worry about. Do your thing.
B: So you promise this is safe?
V: No.
B: (greasing enormous wheel): Ugh. I swear, this is the last time. I’m not covering for you anymore after this, dammit.
V: Shut up. Nomnomnom!Except (d) won’t actually happen.
Runner-up is a comment by ‘From the can’ (great nick, btw), who discusses omega male game:
Counterpoint: dude is running Jabba game. He eats what the fuck he wants and drinks his fucking juice from a baby bottle. Juice? No, blue label. Girlfriend? No, human beanbag chair. I’ll bet she’s comfortable as fuck, AND gives back rubs. Also, this bastard gets his money from the populace: regal. What this picture is hiding is the smoking hot princess on a chain. Totes jelotes of this pimp.
Totes means “totally”. Not sure what jelotes means.