Archive for the ‘Alpha’ Category

AMOG Tit Grab

A reader passes along a quickie anecdote that you don’t hear everyday:

I would like your take on this situation that arose with my GF. Been together about a month.

Went to a pub, I brought a friend, its kind of her turf so she runs into coworkers and friends there a lot. Two dudes she used to work with come in, she hugs them. She is pretty bad for introducing me to people…often she says hello to a group, I wait a minute then introduce myself. She follows up by saying I’m her BF, etc, but she leaves it to me to break the ice.

Once again no intro, this time I didn’t care much to say hi, so me and my friend went for a drink. At last call, her and I are chatting, I see another friend and go say hi, she sees these two coworkers again. I come up to do the introduction, and one of the dudes grabs her tit when she moves in for a hug. She shoves his hand away but laughs and hugs him. I’m literally over this dudes shoulder, she knows I saw it.

What’s the alpha play here? (I walked away, she chased after me asking why i was running away…fully aware of the reason)

1. One month is not long enough to call any girl your “girlfriend”. Not even if you’re banging her six ways to Sunday. Already I sense your mentality is beta, for only a beta male would count his chicks before they’ve latched.

2. It’s a very bad tell when your “GF” doesn’t introduce you to people she knows. She either doesn’t want them to know the full extent of your relationship with her, or she’s not sufficiently attached to you and easily forgets you exist. Third option: She’s a sperg with naturally bad social skills. But that’s a low probability option.

3. The AMOG dude obviously felt comfortable enough to grab her tit without fearing retribution, from either her or you. Therefore, he either knows, through her, that she’s not that into you, or he’s actually fucking her on the downlow. Her reaction — or rather, her barely concealed joy — strongly hints at the latter.

4. The alpha play is to never talk to her again. Seriously. She’s a lost cause, even if she didn’t technically “cheat”. Yet.

5. But if you just want to keep the sex going for as long as possible, give it two weeks, then re-engage. Treat her like absolute dirt. I figure this strategy will net you three more months of hungry blowjobs.

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Nigel Havers, a British TV actor, has some choice comments about the nature of female sexuality.

TV heart-throb Nigel Havers says women ‘never learn’ when it comes to men – because they cannot stop pursuing ‘cads’. […]

[Havers] finds out that his maternal great-great-grandfather, David Couch, had an illegitimate daughter with a 19-year-old servant girl.

Havers, 61, told the Radio Times: ‘You can’t help but think you’ve inherited some of their qualities. David was a bit of a cad, which is the sort of part I’ve played.

‘I made The Charmer in 1987, which was dangerous for me because I didn’t think viewers would warm to such a ghastly character. And yet the opposite happened. However evil he was, people liked him.

More precisely, men wanted to be him, women wanted him.

‘Throughout history women tend to like cads. They want to mother and change them. It’s exciting, but always ends in tears.

‘They don’t learn, do they? I don’t mean that in a sexist way. Some women prefer a stable life, but others love danger.’

He goes on to say that men love dangerous women, too, but that’s just CYA equalist squid ink, meant to appease feminist shrike censors. Men love hot women, and if they happen to be bitches, well… men won’t turn down a romp in the sack with them, though they will think twice about committing to them, and they certainly won’t rationalize their bitchiness like so many women rationalize the caddishness and assholery of jerks and terrorist bombers.

Women go out of their way to locate, identify and seduce jerks. Men do not go out of their way to locate, identify and seduce bitches. (Men will go out of their way to target sluts, nice or not.) Women love jerks *because* they’re jerks. Men will occasionally love hot bitches *despite* their bitchiness. If you need scientific evidence to corroborate everyone’s personal observation and age-old wisdom, the CH archives are filled with links to relevant studies.

What about the theory that women want to mother and change cads? There is something to this, but it’s not the primary urge that drvies women into the arms of unsavory men. The female love for jerks is, translated, a love for dominant men who, in the state of nature (and equally in the state of modern society), can protect them from invaders and sire sons who will inherit the same badboy pussy-collecting genes.

It’s helical imperatives all the way down.

But women also possess a compulsion to domesticate men who fall within their long-term seductive purview. It makes sense from an evolutionary perspective that women would serve their fitness-enhancing interests by cutting the nutsack off their conquests, lest valuable testosterone-y goodness is diverted to the project of further pussy plunder and away from amassing resources for her growing family.

But betas don’t inspire this womanly desire to geld, because betas already come packaged with nuts sold separately. Only cads and d-bags, nuts present and accounted for, send women swooning alternately between depths and heights of ecstatic submissive lust and egocentric lion taming. The lesson for the inveterate womanizer with love in his heart should be clear: Let her change only that about you with which you were already willing to part.

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Dan readied his stick and plunked a ball in a side pocket. Relishing his fleeting achievement, he raised his eyes to check if Nadine had bore witness to his excellence. She hadn’t. Gruff, caustic Robert, his misshapen nose and squirrel’s nest hair coaxing annoyed leers, was directing to a general audience of three girls a crack about drunkenly seeing twelve holes and the improvement to his game that was sure to bring. Nadine was one of those girls, and Dan squelched a perturbation of despondency when he saw Nadine’s eyes shine for Robert’s boisterous wit.

Nadine was Dan’s project. He met her, he welcomed her friends, he introduced them all to his friends, he slept luxuriously fitful nights imagining Nadine warming to him and reciprocating his feelings. Kind, pretty and, lately, eager to hang out with him and his buddies, Nadine was unassailable. Dan allowed renewed confidence in the value he offered her. Soon, he would ask her out. He just needed a private moment. They’d been out together as a group enough that Dan believed Nadine was hoping he would lurch at a pretext to corner her alone and deliver the magical words she’d been secretly anticipating. Dan occasionally wondered if the moment, when it came, would be so flush with spent resolve that they would seal the agreement with a passionate (but endearingly tentative) kiss.

Dan: “D’ja see that bank shot?”

Robert: “That bank shot wasn’t good…”


Robert: “…that bank shot was GREAT.”

Nadine: *laughs*

Dan: *smiles weakly*

Robert: *touches Nadine’s chunky girl friend with chalky side of stick*


Chunks: “Hey! Not nice!”

Robert: “Blame Dan. He bet me I wouldn’t do it.”

Dan: “No I didn’t.”

Robert: “Come on, Dan, you’re always causing trouble. Don’t try to hide it.”

Nadine: “He doesn’t look like the one causing trouble here.”

Dan: “Thanks, Nadine.”

Robert: “I knew there was something between you two!”

Dan had always taken to understand that he was a handsome, if aesthetically understated, man. He certainly saw nothing in Nadine’s limpid gaze to suggest extended exposure to his countenance irritated her. If Dan were to count up the hours spent in Nadine’s company, (an exercise which, in point of fact, he did one evening while nervously fiddling with the bracing decision to text her one mere day after they had spoken by phone, the nerve!), the sum of their unspoken love would add to a considerable investment of life energy.

And so it was with naive expectation that Dan foresaw no interference, nor any of the usual social rifts that erupt when the sexes mix, issuing from Nadine & company’s enfolding. He was therefore emotionally denuded when Nadine’s redirected attention usurped his blueprint of steady bonding. A sickening awareness jammed his guts as he recorded the mounting toll of Robert & Nadine’s wet glances, slithery torso feints, forearm grazing entreaties, and joyously faux indignations, each a sharper dagger than the last. He sunk his last shot, and excused himself to “make a call”, which no one heard, nor needed to hear.

Seven years later, Robert would be married to a svelte, head-turner blonde, and they would reside in a charming suburb. Dan would have moved to another corner of the country, met an uninspiring but trustworthy woman, and married as well, settling in a jurisdiction not known for its disruptive temptations, but not mattering anyway. Government statistics would show that Robert worked in a high-stress field and had one child with his comely wife, and that Dan was a productive contributor to state coffers and had two children by his wife.

Acquaintances who knew Dan would say if asked that he was a happy, well-adjusted man. A real stand-up guy, a normal guy. The sort of guy who had everything going for him.

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A reader passes along a screen capture of a text exchange he had with a girl who has a boyfriend she obviously worships as a king and duty-bound patriarch.

I thought you would get a kick out of this. Little background: this chick ended up doing facials, anal anything on demand. As of current I am in a relationship with her best friend who she introduced me to and she even endorsed me. They are no longer friends and she is on the rocks with her current bf bc he knows she still wants me. If i could change one thing I would’ve  left out the “Lol.”

The reader’s poetic musing are on the right.

This is a thing of beauty. You’ve got a little bit of “Nah” game in there, lack of punctuation game, and all of it delivered with tingle titillating aloofness. This reader has expertly put into practice Poon Commandment V, always give less than you receive from a woman. If this text convo were displayed on a Jumbotron, he would feel no shame, for he would know the audience of millions understands he is getting plenty of action from this girl. And it is the audience that would feel ashamed that they intuitively know this, and will thus spend their whole lives embracing romantic platitudes as salve for their chafed soulholes.

The only question is, would the reader have achieved level A2M had he left off the “lol”?

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The Alpha Male Pose

hbdchick passes along a photo of her favorite alpha male pose (and favorite alpha male, Steve MOTHERFUCKIN McQueen). I looked at it and, accepting the risk that the following judgment might imbue perceptions with a certain je ne sais queer, I concur, this pose is superlatively alpha.

Let’s examine in as normal and non-spergy a manner as possible what it is exactly about this pose that declares ALPHA in a deep, masculine, gravelly, yet single malt smooth seductive voice.

– Only half his body is engaged with her. The other half is turned away, as if he’s debating whether to devote his attention to her, or to bolt for the horizon and limitless freedom. Chicks dig men who aren’t fully domesticated committed (or can’t be).

– He’s looking down at her paternalistically. Show of dominance.

– He’s draped his arm over her shoulder, but lightly instead of possessively. Show of dominance + arousing display of non-neediness.

– Tousled bedroom hair. Chicks dig dudes who look like they just shagged an army of fembots. Preselection ftw.

– Is that a wedding band on his finger? I can’t tell, but the fact that it might be is catnip to girls who love the thought of a man who is both desired by women and nuptially attainable. Plus there’s the ugly fact that women LOVE LOVE LOVE stealing taken men.

– Short shorts accentuate the groinal bulge. Believe you me, girls check out the package. And they aren’t very sly about it. Once you’re alerted to the reality of women’s degenerate desires, you start noticing how often their eyes travel to the tip of your genetic spear.

– You don’t see her face. Her focus is totally on him, and her breasts are pressed into his chest. Her pose is almost as crucial to the perception of his super alphaness as is his pose. Again, preselection ftw. But not just any old preselection. LOVE preselection.

– He’s bending one knee. A subtle play on perception that he’s contemplating leaving her and going his own way. Or, that he’s about to set off on high adventure and take her along for the ride of her life. Either unspoken assumption is attractive to women.

– He’s holding onto a wall? refrigerator? as if he wants to go but she’s pulling him back into her orbit by force of her femininity. Plays on the female love of taming a wild, wandering man.

– “I think I’ll just graze your ass with my fingertips instead of hungrily paw at it like a lifelong incel.” A man who has plenty of women in his life demonstrates his sexual satiety with aloof gestures of detached self-control.

– Black and white photos will make any man appear more alpha (hint for you Facebook whores).

– She’s not a fat slob. Obviously, any man who can seduce a thin babe has something on the ball.

– He has a slightly annoyed expression. Chicks love it when men look a little pissed off, like they could fly off the handle at any moment.

– The composition of light and dark and focal length is a factor. Note that blurry, rumpled bedroom(?) scene, shrouded in shadow, in the background. What the female viewer’s mind concocts: Ooh, a den of iniquity! Naughty man. *TINGLE*

– Overall, the pose subcommunicates, “I just anally destroyed this woman, and now I’m kinda bored and want to get the hell outta here and hang with my buds, but goddamn her eyes are pretty.” ALPHA.

So, fellow gentlemen readers, if you want to cop this alpha male pose for yourselves, find a pair of vintage Ocean Pacific shorts, Dippity Do your hair with your fingers, swagger around in public shirtless, grab any nearby refrigerator, and lean away from it into the heaving breasts of a height-weight proportionate lover. Bonus alpha points if there’s a creepy mask symbolizing the peeping tom celibate omega male staring at you with seething envy.


It should also be pointed out that it appears McQueen is standing in the contrapposto pose, which has been proven by science to be attractive to women.

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A 30 year old couglet writes to Slate’s Emily Yoffe (first mistake) about the strange pull that an unemployed, alcoholic alpha male ex-fling badboy has on her romantic imagination, while a loyal and NICE dentist betaboy who’s practically begging her to marry him can’t seem to fire up her loins. Bonus track: The badboy nearly gave her herpes.

I would leave everything I have to be with [the guy who almost gave me herpes and dumped me after a weekend of multiple orifice violating that I wouldn’t dream of allowing my beta dentist fiance to do to me].

Five minutes of alpha…

A regular CH reader, Zombie Shane, left a comment over at Slate (amazingly left undeleted) which sent the femborgs and manboobs ululating into righteous, backboob swinging, indignation.

Two points:

1) Women are incapable of knowing what they want – if they knew what they wanted, then they’d be men.

2) What this particular woman wants is what every woman wants – the gina tingles which come from the dangerous liaisons with an “alpha” cad – not the bed-death predictability which comes from entering into the prison which is married life with a boring, dependable, politically-correct, utterly emasculated “beta” dad.

Alpha cads, not beta dads.

That’s what women want.

So either dentist dude can step it up a notch, grow a pair, and start acting like a man, or else he can prepare [or at least he ought to prepare] for a lifetime of raising a family full of children who were biologically sired by the likes of her tennis instructor at the country club.

“dutchshepherdconspiracytheory” replies,

Oh so glad one of the menz could tell me what I wanted.

Anyone who (erroneously) pluralizes words with the letter z is guaranteed to be a triple-chinned nerdo leftoid or cauliflower-thighed chunkster chick. No exceptions.

Is it the alcoholism, unemployment or herpes that women love about sexy badboys? No. What women love about them is their ATTITUDE.

The attitude dictates that you don’t care whether she comes, stays, lays, or prays. I mean whatever happens, your toes are still tappin’. Now when you got that, then you have the attitude.

The Attitude is sex panther cologne reformulated to work 100% 100% of the time. The Attitude is powerful enough to induce in women a quasi-catatonic, chronically orgasmic state that renders them unable to discriminate against men failing on several objective measures of conventional mate worth. Many sexy cads with venereal diseases, low future time orientation and crippling addictions do well with women because they possess The Attitude, and that is often all that’s needed to outcompete beta males for drilling rights to women’s peak nubility hearts.

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Sidewinder asks,

How does one do obligatory beta things in the course of a relationship in an alpha way? Wives and girlfriends will not accept skittles as gifts on a regular basis. At some point it will be her turn to pick the movie, and it will usually be a gay selection. How do you share in the celebration of whatever girl milestones she’s happy about?

I recall seeing a good post about alpha ways to propose, but my question goes more to the day to day level. After you’ve been with a girl for 3 months or so, she’s looking for a connection. Constant aloof game will eventually lead to her just thinking you are a negative, critical dick. But being a mushy beta herb is fatal as well. Maybe I’m suggesting a new post “Relationship Game: The Day-to-Day Alpha.”

CH readers who are familiar with the archives know that “aloof game” is not all there is to inspiring a woman’s love and fidelity through all four weeks of the month. Beta reassurance game matters, and in fact will occupy the bulk of your time with any woman who is more than a sexual fling to you.

The reason Chateau Heartiste, and game blogs in general, focus on attraction-building seduction techniques and attitudes is because for most men — and especially for men with a lot of White and Red Nordid ancestry — aloofness and charisma around women don’t come as naturally as, say, white knighting and slow wooing via the display of beta provider signals. The world West is changing, and a different kind of seduction is needed.

Most men are betas by definition, and the “art” of buying girls stuff and complimenting girls and tending to girls when they are upset in order to win their favor is second nature to such men. The beta provider’s mental resources aren’t taxed by spending real resources on women. That’s the beta’s bread and butter. In contrast, the beta male feels tremendous psychological distress when his bread and butter isn’t working and he has to delve into the crimson world of exotic seduction tactics to inspire lust in women. This is when the beta, after having endured in crestfallen solitude from the bar room wall the spectacle of sociable alpha males hoarding the pussy, decides to turn to the lessons of applied charisma.

Regarding Sidewinder’s question, the day-to-day relationship stuff is not particularly hard or incomprehensible for the inveterate beta male. He’s been ready since birth to assume his role as the “I’m a caring man and I’ll be there at your side to dry your tears and listen to you bitch and promise you how beautiful you look when the baby is disgorging itself from your wide-open bloody vagina” man that all women claim they desire, but actually don’t desire until times get tough or their oxytocin levels are elevated. (Or the SMV differential between the woman and the man is so great that he can afford to be a beta.)

But just because that sentimental huggy-wuggy stuff comes easy to betas doesn’t mean they’d see no benefit from supercharging their relationship game with time-honored and field-tested seduction strategies. A man who has brought balance to his masculine force — a man who has sharpened his far-focused beta bonding on the whetstone of near-focused alpha allure, and knows how to apportion each by amount and timeliness to induce maximum arousal in his woman — is a man of such rarefied self-awareness that women will die for him. Or at least defend his right to pimp them out.

Building on this premise, tomorrow’s post will be about those “day-to-day alpha” things that men should do to strengthen and invigorate their loving relationships with women.

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