Chicks Dig Jerks: The Photographic Evidence

Ever notice how it’s the cute chicks who glom onto assholes and JERKBOYS the most, utterly belying the assertion by sexual market denialists that the kinds of girls assholes get are low self-esteem skanks and warpigs?

So what kinds of women do the world’s biggest assholes — serial killers — fuck (and, tragically, chuck)? You’d have to be a detective investigating one of these demons to know the quality of girls he’s boning. Well now, photographic evidence has surfaced supporting the anecdotal impression that hot babes dig the biggest jerks of them all.

Rodney Alcala, a serial killer who fulfilled his grisly urges in the 1970s (and was even a contestant on a dating game show, which he won), was found guilty in 2010 of killing four women and a 12-year-old girl. He is a former photographer who took many pictures of the women who accompanied him to his various haunts and lairs. Police found the photos in a storage locker rented to Alcala, and posted them online for information the public might have about any of the women in them, (presumably some of the women in the photos are still missing). You can see a slideshow of the photos here.

Observe anything about the photos? Besides the shadow of death that lurks in them. A theme, perhaps?

With the exception of a handful of photos, most of the women look happy to be in the company of Alcala, posing for him, often seductively. And while not every woman is attractive, enough are bangable that the stream of them eagerly acquiescing to Alcala’s charms — “You want me to go *where* with you, Rodney? Ok! Yay!” — should inflame the envy and ire of your typical niceguy beta male who’d be lucky to enjoy the intimacy of two chubby girls his entire life.

In related depressing news about the nature of the female species, a Mexican man who padlocked his younger girlfriend’s pelvis in a chastity belt avoided prosecution because the poor, abused woman just couldn’t find it in herself to send him to the clink.

To the surprise of authorities, the woman refused to press charges once the man was detained.

Not a surprise to anyone who knows women well. The lovers of sociopathic jerks may occasionally, in a histrionic fit or when their bladders are about to explode, call in for white knight assistance, but when push comes to shove the ladies are loath to permanently part with their mean men. After all, the sex is SO GOOD.

Story also says the woman has been his lover for twelve years, which would mean this man was 28 years old and she was 13 when they started dating. Ah, Mexico. May you forever stay south of the border. Or, failing that, may you move en masse into Bryan Caplan’s McMansion in Northern Virginia, and vibrantly pop his bubble.

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Alpha Assessment: Jerkboy Charisma Game

Reader Knowbody passes along the following textinage,

my latest text game…employing short, direct, asshole-like replies. Guys, 6 months ago I woulda never dreamed of talking like this to females. Have CH and the manosphere/game community to thank for showing the light. [ed: go forth, child of CH, and spread the Poon Word] All my texts anymore are direct, no questions, very short, etc. In sets eye contact has opened the floodgates for the bang close. Shit is so easy now it’s funny

example in latest text game:
after like 2 weeks of not talking to her
Me: in town tmr, organize a 3some
her: guy or girl
me: cute

Great reply. So much better than a “haha, j/k. but seriously, you want to meet up?” betaboy reversion to the feeb.

her: hey if I’m in charge of finding the people you have to deal with whatever I get
me: no way, prob get some diseased homeless broad
her: no cause if it’s a 3 way then I’d have to fuck her too
me: so get a hot one then
her: well duh your the one who said she was gonna be nasty, not me
me: less talk, more scouting bitches (experienced great success with freely throwing “bitches” around without batting an eye)

This is a classic reframe. Instead of getting embroiled in an endless loop of her female logic and slowly killing the fun vibe, he snips the beta bait thread in two and redirects it down a detour of his choosing (“less talk, more scouting bitches”).

her: lol ok.
her lol GO!
me: i do this daily fool
her: huh??
me: you don’t follow well
her: yea ya crusty butt hole you made no sense

This line irritated me and was very unladylike, I have a low tol. for jabs, esp gross shit like a man would say so I stopped txting for a few hrs.

Intermittently reward women for good behavior, but promptly punish them for bad behavior. Psy Ops 101.

me: such a lady
her: that’s why I have so many gentlemen callers
Me: gentlemen…aka fags
her: lol either way idc

NOTE: around here her texts are getting longer and more grammatically correct…subconciously I believe she’s trying to impress now.

That’s the way to bet.

her: Besides, you know you want it lol
me: talk a big game. rarely as good as advertised

I want to point out here what a fantastic line this can be when used on a girl who is accusing you of wanting her badly. It instantly flips the “chaser-chasee” script without sounding too insulting.

her: [BIG RESPONSE (knew I was pushing her along by now…)] It’s pretty legit lol (or so I’m told) idk I don’t like to just lay there haha I wanna be on top or on my hands and knees getting my hair pulled or giving head lol but some people aren’t into it.

She’s entered the self-qualification zone. Good things happen there. The sort of good things that befuddle betas and enrage male feminists.

me: faaaaaags…I’m mean

This is his only reply that falls flat. (The “fags” riposte can easily be overdone.) Better reply: “thx for the Kinsey report”.

her: (RECOILS here…wtf) aw I wouldn’t call you a fag.
me: (irritated by her jumpy game)…do things even register in your head

Most recovering betas are amazed by how much of a jerk they can be with women without blowing themselves out like they normally experience when they’re dropping niceguy game for all it’s worth.

her: Depends on the kind of day I’m having lol
me: handful

Another great one-word reply designed specifically for intense hamster aerobics.

her: (instantly fires back)…Of Ass lol

I like this chick. She’s sexy sassy, not annoying sassy. Seems like she has a brain rattling in her skull, and a healthy acceptance of her role as the feminine partner in a blossoming courtship.

me: prove it
her: Lol shit you already know
Me; always a tease
her: Lol what?! Not me lol
Me: pique my interest.. do it pussy

Calling a girl a pussy is just the sort of out-of-left-field challenge they can’t resist.

Think I may have pushed it here with seeming desperate…was actually on the way to her BFF’s to beat it up lolololozlzolzozolll

her: Lol I think your interests are already piqued otherwise you wouldn’t be asking me to elaborate….js

Yup, she’s a sharp one. Contrary to popular freak mafia belief, it’s often the smart girls who hungrily lap up game and beg for more.

(I should have said, who asked? because clearly I have yet to ask anything from her, all have been short demands)
me: lame

If a girl has you by the short and curlies, a quick escape can be made with a curt reply like “lame”. It’s not ideal, but it beats getting explicative or defensive.

Her: You just want me to get into dirty detail of what I’m into…idk if you could handle it
Me: you’d worship what I put down (now I’m like Fuck it, time to up the dickmode)
her: lol your funny
me: guaranteed
her: Over confident

And she’s loving every second of his overconfidence.

Me: field tested hahaha (trying a move for a little bemused mastery)
Her: That might make you a slut lol
Me: I don’t wanna deprive the masses

This is a professional grade reframe.

Her: Oh god lol
Me: close but maybe not that far

Chicks dig the cheeky jerk.

few more of over the top inflated ego responses from me
At this point she just kept going back and forth challenging me wanting me to slip up like some faggy chump so I just quit texting

Ok, that’s a reasonable decision. One-upsmanship is fun, but can rapidly lose steam. If you raise a girl’s buying temperature, you have to find a way for her to release the heat. Otherwise, she gets frustrated and annoyed, and then it’s GAME OVER, MAN, GAME OOOOVER. At some point beyond the first few flirtatious parries, you have to physically escalate. That means, find the willpower to end a positive text convo before it drags on too long. As the man, you have to take the initiative here; you never want to let a woman end a conversation before you do.

She knows I’m banging her BFF so she’s always been iffy…definitely a lot of sexual tension between us

The problem here is that she’s feeling dueling compulsions, and trying to reconcile them. She loves your style and your pre-selected alpha goodness, but she doesn’t want to be the “other woman” and kill a BFF relationship. She also knows that, as a confirmed cad, you would be a cheat or abandonment risk should a sexual tryst evolve. You might be able to close this deal if you catch her during the week of the month when she’s ovulating.

but she won’t relax, like she wants to but will disengage out of nowhere, this kind of conversation has taken place many times, even get a few racy pics here and there. Tells me how she likes to swallow, facials, biting, negs her friend to me all the time (“she’s a lame fuck, I’m much better”), mean fucking…all that good shit chicks rarely talk about openly unless they are imagining YOU doing it.

She’s masturbating after, and perhaps during, her text convos with you.

What does CH and readers feel is the best course of action to pin this one down and give her what she wants. I know I’m close..she’s on my texts instantly now as if she’s waiting for them. Fucking love the game community.

Ok, well, first off, know that she sounds like a cocktease. The urge to safely preen before an unattainable badboy is strong in many women. You should avoid getting used as a diddling aid. Weeks of sexting will slowly erode your value if you don’t push for something more. You need to 1. get her alone, 2. allay her fear of discovery and 3. become physical with her.

(1) is the hardest part. You might have to deviously arrange it so that she’s trapped into one-on-one confinement with you, from where you can then drop hints that you don’t judge and you don’t tell tales out of school. Think along the lines of filling her ear with an innocent story from your past, a story about an illicit liaison that stayed quiet because you could be trusted. (2) is important because she’ll need to know that you have the social savvy to prevent any tryst from blowing up her circle of friends. (3) is standard operating procedure. You could probably escalate sexually very quickly if you get her alone. The groundwork has already been laid, and who knows, she might hold a private resentment against her BFF and this is her way of exacting revenge.

But there’s nothing like the wisdom of an educated sociopathic crowd, so let’s throw this quandary to the studio audience and see what the readership advises.

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Dealing With Hair-Ruffling AMOGs

Glenn writes,

I’ve got a very specific AMOG problem. I wear my hair slicked back (think Don Draper). When I go to parties, sometimes guys try and ruffle my hair as a power play. I act unfazed by it (stoic personality), but my hair gets fucked up. I need some kind of AMOG way to handle it, but in a somewhat pro-social manner. Since I’m stoic, the goofy/silly Mystery-style stuff isn’t my cup of tea.

For those of you who don’t know, AMOG means “alpha male other guy” or “alpha male of the group”. In its usual context, it’s a long-winded way of saying “asshole”.

The hair ruffle thing isn’t all that common in this cocooning age, but I have seen it happen, especially to guys who like to wear “high hair”, or have ostentatiously stylish haircuts that aggravate the mediocre masses charged with upholding the conformist norms. It happens quite a bit more to bald guys, though in that case it’s more precisely a head rub than a hair ruffle. The principle, and motivating impulse, are the same: To josh around like a fun-loving frat boy and in the process earn a few social status points. (Of course that status climbing, fitness enhancing impulse happens mostly at the subconscious level, where helical gears frantically clank in hopes of attaining for their flesh vessel some quality grade puss-ay.)

Joshing around is what chill, non-spergy dudes do. It’s not a big deal if you’re the victim of it once in a blue moon; just shrug it off and accuse your buddy of being jealous of your glorious coif. If the guy ruffling your hair is a stranger and his intent strikes you as perceptibly malicious, tell him “Whoa, dude, not cool”, or “Hey man, you have a weird fetish for men’s hair?”, or simply “Seriously gay, bro.” If he’s halfway socialized, he’ll get the point and back off. If he doesn’t… well, prepare to escalate.

If you have that annoying buddy making a dominance play who ruffles your hair all the time because he knows it gets under your skin, the next time he goes for it, grab his arm mid-lunge and say “I think that’s enough of that.” Cool, calm, and very effective. If he acts unduly pissed, he was never really your buddy. Initiate weapons class anti-AMOG protocol.

Naturally, most of those above responses to the AMOG require a minimum of testicular fortitude to pull off. That minimum may seem a ridiculously low testosterone bar to hurdle, and in the abstract it is, but you’d be surprised (or maybe not — I no longer am) how many modern American “men” are skirt-tugging manlets incapable of even the slightest exertion toward confrontation. A good thing for the master seducer, a bad thing for civilization.

PS Don’t lean on stoicism as an excuse for inaction or weakness. Stoicism is what a lot of wilting flowers like to call their trembling retreat. It’s a reframe in service to a losing cause.

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Spot The Alpha

As a reader notes, a good rule of thumb for determining the alpha male among men is which man would you least want to pick a fight with in a bar? Physical size doesn’t even have to factor into this equation.

In this photo, Obama appears to have as many beta male tells as Putin has alpha male tells.

Obama:

– biting lower lip
– leaning forward
– nearly crossing feet
– one foot resting pigeon-toed
– closed off leg position, sheltering manhood from turbulence
– craning neck
– slouched shoulders
– “man with no chest” syndrome
– the soft eyes of a community organizer

Putin:

– expressionless, with hint of annoyed boredom
– leaning back in his chair
– open leg stance, daring the world to confront his manhood
– feet firmly planted on ground
– back straight
– chest out
– head, chin and chest aligned in a single plane
– the hard eyes of a seasoned warrior

Interestingly, both men are interlocking their fingers and propping their arms in similar ways, but Putin’s arm and hand position strikes the viewer as more alpha. Why is that? Well, body language cues can be exceedingly subtle. The difference between a beta posture and an alpha posture can reduce to mere centimeters. Putin’s arms are slightly more spread out, like a bird of prey’s wingspan in mid-flight, than are Obama’s arms. This gives Putin’s overall physical presence a more open look, and this openness is one of the classic signals of alpha maleness. The beta is weak and defensive, always glancing around for incipient threats, his body tightened into a ball of nerves. The alpha is strong and relaxed, expecting no threats but nevertheless welcoming any threats which may come his way.

Why does any of this matter? Do you like women? Because if you do, then you have to know how to satisfy women’s desires. And women desire, almost universally, the attention of a charismatically towering, larger than life alpha male.

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Game Is Real

Occasional testimonials of the awesome power of game are useful for new readers. Via Vox at Alpha Game,

Small example: I recently ran into a girl I’d been very interested in a couple years back and never really gotten over, but our conversation went very differently than it would have even 6 months ago. She’d effectively friend-zoned me a long time ago (or more accurately, I’d clumsily friend-zoned myself), but at one point after I said something that surprised her, I saw unguarded respect in her eyes. That’s a feeling I’ll not soon forget, and in an instant it confirmed more of what’s been said here to me than 100 logical arguments could.

The result was that I’m no longer friend-zoned, and I’m also no longer interested.. funny how when you change from responder to initiator you start seeing people differently. Now of course an Alpha will find all that amusing and a silly thing to call a victory, but that’s fine. It’s progress. Some guys have to start bench-pressing with just the bar, but they don’t have to linger there for long.

That “unguarded respect” is what I like to call a “Surge of Tingle”. It’s that feel women get when shocked by a blast of alpha-tude from a man whom they never expected such a blast. The Surge of Tingle sends lustblood to her physical and cortical extremities, and the perceptive man will notice it most clearly in her eyes, where the dull sheen of boredom with the world’s mediocre masses of beta males is swept away by a lively, shiny, moist expressiveness roused to ocular attention by a charismatically challenging man.

Sometimes all it takes is a few words that are different than all the words you have spoken in your life to women before. A path formerly untravelled, but rich with promises of breathtaking scenery, if you will only take a step forward on it. You have a license to charm. Use it. When you do, the reality of game will materialize like an obelisk from the retreating fog, and you’ll finally have your understanding.

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Poolside In America

Would you call this man smart? I would.

He jams, drinks, surfs, lounges beachside all day, and eats lobster on the public dime. Oh sure, he doesn’t have a lot of material possessions (but how’d he get that car?) that define the accomplished SWPL life, but when you’re banging hot southern Cally girls, (and I bet you big bank he’s tapping more sweet ass than a hundred Apple employees turning six figures are buying dinners for), the urge to bust your balls hunched over a computer screen 50 hours a week so you can acquire the latest iteration of some useless gadget and pay taxes for your active dispossession kind of fades away. The Dude abides his new perspective.

Poolside in America is the nation’s 21st century battle cry. And why not? The country is sinking fast under mounds of debt, unemployment, and alienation. The government pushes propaganda and policies that undermine the very concept of a nation, so no wonder growing numbers of Americans are jettisoning any feeling of duty toward their homeland like so much gassy ballast. Social atomization and the sheer massive scale of a bloated 300+ million population of competing races, ethnicities, behaviors, and temperaments herded like cats under ever-tightening rules and regulations and surveillance drones doomed to fail are splintering hard-earned loyalty and severing bonhomie. Obscene inequality of wealth and the total abandonment of noblesse oblige by the ruling classes has emboldened the leeches and parasites and sociopaths and hedonists and nihilists and clear thinkers. In the land of the left-behind, the poolsider is king.

Toward the end of the video, the interviewer asks RattLife Surfer if he feels guilty for taking advantage of Obama’s removal of restrictions on qualifying for food stamps, and helping himself to $200 of “free” money every month. He says no, and I believe him. It would be strange to feel guilt for sucking a pittance of Danegeld from fat cats helping themselves to ungodly profits from arcane financial transactions abetted by a cognitive firewall between the masses and the gated 0.1%ers on the hunt for ever-cheaper labor imported from shitholes. RattLife has made a very rational decision regarding his well-being: He has looked at the world he inherited, at the immense chasm between the haves and (relative) have-nots, and has figured that slaving away in a cube farm or a grimy sweatshop on a stagnating wage to serve a smaller and smaller cadre of super wealthy and femcunt HR schoolmarms is no life at all. What is the point of busting your hump when the brass ring has moved from your fingertips to Alpha Centauri?

“My job is to make sure the sun’s up and the girls are out.”

Now that’s radical.

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Spot The Alpha

The evidence:

Man in the back left can hardly contain his joy. Or his perforated ulcer. His fingers grip his super-sized prize like a rock climber dangling from a cliff face with no rope. He’s not about to let her tip over and capsize into her friend. After all, what is better in life than a fat chick with no tits?

Man in the back right is more composed, and maintains a firmer grip on his ballast. He seems fairly aware of the load capacity of his lumberjack arms and cornfed quads, and glows with the inner peace of a zen master who has touched the face of a semi-cute chick with his peen without ever having to touch her porky wet hole with it.

Girl in the front left is straining under the weight (heh) of her phony smile. She despises her reproductive partner, her grotesque starch bomb body, her life. But she loves her BBBFF who always makes her feel special and loved and free to be Princess Gluttony. Her dress sparkles because she knows how to attract the attention of horny military boys with alcoholic astigmatism.

Girl in the front right smiles naturally, smokes and drinks from a red solo cup. She has stuffed her carcass into a slinky cocktail dress meant for women half her size. She exudes self-confidence. Clearly, she is American. She likes her man and has taken many of his loads betwixt her fat girl ta tas. She is destined to cheat on him with a black man.

The conclusion:

The girl in the front right is the alpha male. Remember what the alpha male signifies: He is the man with options, who is dating “out of his league”, according to conventional metrics of date worthiness. Judging by this photo, the man who has made out like a bandit happens to be a woman.

And isn’t that modern society in a nutless-shell? An alpha male woman smothering the life out of a man who can do better, but won’t.

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