Hero

Maybe I should start an ‘Alpha of the Month’ series. Check out this guy:

A man who stopped paying alimony payments to his Clay County ex-wife five years ago and moved to Indonesia — out of the reach of law enforcement — was arrested Friday when he returned to town for a wedding.

The Clay County Sheriff’s Office said David Evans owes his wife $188,000 in alimony payments.

$188,000. Say it to yourself. ONE HUNDRED EIGHTY-EIGHT THOUSAND. For saying “I do”. There is not a woman alive whose blowjob technique merits $188,000 in recompense. The alimony payday is state-sanctioned theft, pure and simple.

I’ve long advocated that should you find yourself on the assramming end of the divorce industrial complex, your best bet is to shift your assets overseas and leave the country. Our hero flipped the bird at our anti-male laws, and for that, I salute him. The fact that he slipped up and stupidly returned to the US five years later for a wedding (irony alert) shouldn’t detract from his admirable heroism in the field of battle. I bestow upon him the greatest honor a man can receive — membership in the Heartiste Society, including the wrought-iron triskelion ring which will grant him access to the chateau.

If alphas have a ‘look’, then this guy has it:

“STEEEEEELLAAAAA!!!!”

At this point, it hardly matters what this guy did or didn’t do in the run-up to his divorce. He may have cheated, lied and stolen, or his wife may have boffed his cousin. The marriage culture has degenerated to such a nadir that these piddling he said-she said details are of little concern in the face of the larger injustice. Absent children and proof of fault, there is no good reason a man should owe his ex-wife ONE RED CENT in the event of a divorce. If she stayed at home becoming best friends with Oprah instead of advancing in a pointless public relations career, that is her body her choice, and the consequences are hers to grapple with. To believe otherwise is to believe that the state should treat women like children, incapable of accounting for their own life choices. And if that’s the standard by which the state will act with regards to women’s post-marital entitlements, then I suggest the state extend its paternalistic logic to other realms in which women operate. A repeal of female voting rights would be a good start.

If a woman initiates divorce from a man and children are involved, unless she can prove fault by her husband she should not even get child support. I can already hear the disingenuous whining. “But the children will suffer! Think of the children!” If the children are suffering she can always stay with her husband, give them to the husband if she decides to ditch him, or put the kids up for adoption. If she wishes to give the kids to the ex-husband, but he’d rather not have his freedom and funtime curtailed by babysitting duties (and I wouldn’t blame him), *and* the divorce was his fault, he can have the option of paying child support in lieu of physically raising them.

Any woman who has a problem with what I wrote has revealed herself to be a leech intent on riding the gravy train. Humans will cling to nothing as tenaciously as a structurally advantageous power position. In America 2009, the emergent marriage and divorce conspiracy is such an obviously raw deal for men that it’s a wonder they still bother. The fear must be strong in many men. If I were the hypothetical leader of this conspiracy, I would target young, religious men for marriage who were too naive to know any better.

There are ways to save marriage, but I can sleep easy at night knowing no one will take up the cause. My lifestyle will remain unchallenged.

To recap: Don’t get married. At least when you break up with a girlfriend you don’t have to provide her with a retirement plan.

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Hangover Game

A reader e-mailed me the following observation:

No game?

Go out, get drunk with your friends.

Wake up feeling like a bag of shit.

THEN go run your game.  I can’t believe I never noticed this.  I went drinking last night with a few buddies, got hammered and today felt like crap.  I went to the mall to get a Mother’s Day gift, and I tried to get a few things going with some sexy girls.  I’m at the mall so rarely so I try to take advantage of it.  I approached five girls and came away with two numbers.

Gaming girls when you’re hungover is pretty airtight, just make sure you shower and get dressed first, because you at least want to look presentable (I donned a typical jeans and t combo over black loafers with aviators up top) and not smell like a brewery.  When you’re hungover, you don’t give a fuck, you feel like shit, your movements are slow, your voice is in a lower register and you feel too crappy to put up a false facade of happiness when some little hottie is talking to you.  In other words, hangovers make you more aloof, less caring, more alpha.

Looking back on those times when my pickup attempts intersected with my hangovers, I have to say this sounds right. There is gold to be mined in hangover game. The reader hit upon the main reason hangover game works — it turns you into a surly asshole.

What do you get when you take a man and deepen his voice, slow down his movements, remove all semblance of a smile, infuse him with a don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, and prop dark sunglasses on his raccoon eyes? You create a pussy magnet.

Suggestion: There is a fine line between hungover zombie and homeless bum, so shower off the stank and brush your teeth before heading out into the painfully bright sunlight.

Another solid game tactic is “Day Drinking Game”. On warm weekends, I like to sit outside on the patio with my buddies at my favorite bars and drink cheap beer, achieving a slow buzz and keeping it there as long as possible without tipping over into full blown drunkenness. This is known as the “European way”. Then I run day game. Twenty-two Yuenglings on a hot, humid August day will make you irresistible to the ladies. No joke. Have gum ready.

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Who Wrote This?

“Woe unto the Race if ever these lovable creatures [women] should break loose from mastership, and become the rulers or equals of Man.”

Hint: It was written in 1890.

Answer: Ragnar Redbeard (pseudonym), from his book Might is Right.

If only he were alive today to see how right he was.

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The Feminization Of The Western White Male

This is a trend that is bursting with fruit flavor.

Dandies have a long and storied history in the Western cultural canon, so these types of androgynous men are nothing new. But the sheer breadth and rapidity of the dandyfication of the 21st century urban Western white male, coupled closely with the pickup artist movement and the rise of game, signifies a profound cultural change. A nancyboy revolution is upon us.

Since women are by genetic dictate the choosers of men in the mating market (note: men do some choosing as well. see: lonely fat chicks), men who dandify themselves are simply responding to women’s choices. If you want to know where men are heading, follow the pussy. The interesting question is not why the urban white (and asian) man in his multicultural milieu is sporting long silky coifs and bejeweled bracelets, but why women are rewarding these men with their sex. I leave the answer as an exercise for the readers. As enlightened warrior-poets of the Republic of Poon you should have a pretty good idea of the hidden forces at work. Hint: No theory about the present day sexual market is complete without acknowledgement of the underestimated impact contraceptives, abortion, female economic empowerment and demographic upheaval have had on Darwinian sexual selection.

As a man who himself has acquired a splash of the dandy’s fashion sense to rave reviews from women, I don’t consider a man a femmed out beta if the NASCAR crowd scoffs. After all, other men are not the ultimate arbiter of what constitutes alphatude; women are. Men are merely proxy agents for judging other men’s alpha cred. But a woman’s open and willing pussy is the judge that matters most. As long as these modern day dandies with their black nail polish, handlebar moustachios and heart-shaped pendants are scoring more tail than your typical herb or aging frat boy swilling Miller Light in front of the TV, they are partaking of alpha privilege.

Not a sermon, just a thought.

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Paleocons Are Hedonists

And the god of biomechanics did enlighten thee…

Frequently phlegmatic commenter Thursday posted a link in the comments to yesterday’s slut admiration society post that contained a news item about noted paleocon Roger Scruton marrying at the age of 54 a 26 year old woman:

Scruton did not become a father until two years ago when he and his second wife, Sophie Jeffreys, had Samuel. A second child, Lucy, was born last August. Jeffreys, an architectural historian, is 28 years his junior. They live contentedly on a farm in Wiltshire.

And the Pale Sentinel of the Paleocon Underworld Peter Brimelow was in his 60s when he married the 22 year old cutie-pie Athena:

Bacchus bless these refined aesthetes of poon hounding. Men of wealth and taste…

In other news, commenter Patrick provided a helpful link to MP3s of the “War of the Roses” stunt thats plays on the local DC radio station 99.5. Why do haters bother doubting me? As Patrick wrote:

I can confirm from a quick sampling –especially yesterday’s show– that the shows are indeed real and not scripted, that the presumed-alphas indeed don’t give a shit, and that their duped girlfriends are probably going to get cheated on by default anyway.

A particularly funny segment where a cheating man claims an AIDS test discovered by his girlfriend was due to him having accidentally put on another dude’s underwear at the gym. Obviously he banged some total slut he didn’t care a bit about so the roses trick didn’t work because no man would send even free roses to a whore he suspects to have venereal disease. The other-dude’s-underwear ruse was pretty weak though.

Great post.

Another win for me. I tire of the paucity of challengers to my brilliance. Pissboy! Wait for the shake.

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War Of The Roses

There is a local radio station that runs a prank every week called “War of the Roses”. The station enlists a willing participant — usually a girlfriend/wife — who suspects she is being cheated on by her boyfriend/husband. Sometimes the girl gives the name of the other woman she suspects her boyfriend is banging. The DJ will then pose as a flower merchant and call the boyfriend to tell him he has won a contest and the prize is a free bouquet of flowers he can have delivered to anyone he wishes. Over the station’s phones, the poor dupe’s girlfriend will secretly listen in on his decision.

Almost every guy falls for this prank. And nearly all of them are confirmed as cheaters, because nine times out of ten the boyfriend will have the flowers delivered to his mistress/downlow lover, and hysterics of varying dramatic force by the jilted girlfriend/wife will ensue over the phones. It’s good fun for everyone but the couple.

The prank, besides its entertainment value, serves to demonstrate quite clearly how alpha males behave and how women react to alphas. As I’ve written before, when you are starting out the best way to learn game is to observe a natural alpha in field — his mannerisms, speech, attitude, and deftness with which he handles a woman’s shit. (You can also learn a lot about what *not* to do by observing the natural beta in the field.)

Since it’s self-evident that nearly all men who have the option of cheating on their girlfriends are alpha (1. they have a girl, 2. they are attractive to other girls, 3. they have the testosterone to not give a fuck about the repercussions), the “War of the Roses” prank is a window into the relationships of women with alpha males, and Exhibit A on how alpha males react when they have wronged their women.

What you will learn from this prank won’t be surprising to anyone who is a reader of my blog, but it’s fun to have the theory proven correct — again and again — by real life examples, and proven so incontrovertibly, too. So how do the boyfriends react when the prank is revealed, their unfaithfulness uncovered, and their girlfriends’ voices cracking with tears and anger?

• He will never apologize or get defensive. One guy said he was sorry, and that was the only guy I can remember whose girlfriend dumped him over the air.
• He will first curse out the DJ before acknowledging his girlfriend’s presence on the phones. This can go on for an amusingly long time as the girlfriend tries to get a word in edgewise.
• He will go on the offensive, accusing his girlfriend of “blowing things out of proportion”, “being a bitch for calling him out on the radio”, or “getting way too dramatic”. He will often tell his girlfriend to shut up and stop crying, then in an ominous tone of voice, “we’ll talk about this later”. He preempts his girlfriend’s fury and indignation with his own.
• The girlfriend will try to get him to prostrate himself, asking “Why?” and “How do you think this makes me feel?” He will never oblige.
• The girlfriend will ask about the other woman. “Do you love her?” “Does she have something I don’t?” He will never oblige.
• If the girlfriend hurls imprecations at him, and the drama level reaches Code Irate, he will hang up with a jaded “Fuck you”, “This is horseshit” or “I’m done” while the DJs beg him to stay on the line.
• After he has hung up, the DJs will ask the girlfriend if she will stay with her alpha cheating boyfriend — or rather, they’ll try to persuade her to dump the guy — and, invariably, she will hem and haw and make excuses and you just know she isn’t going anywhere. Some of the girls even mention his positive qualities, which are funny in themselves as these qualities often take the form of “he makes me feel special”.

Occasionally, a cheating boyfriend turns out to be a beta at heart. (Yes, natural born betas sometimes cheat, but it’s rare because the opportunity is limited.) You can always tell these guys, because they are the ones whose voices go shaky as they mousily deny wrongdoing and then apologize profusely when the jig is up. After his confession, he is in ankle-grabbing mode and his girlfriend and the DJs anally rape his dignity on the air. He will shower her with promises. She will then threaten to dump him, her voice tone having switched abruptly from hurt girlfriend to ballcutting bitch lawyercunt, and she will usually hang up first, while he futilely laments “Man, I fucked up.”

Maxim #49: If you plan on cheating and get caught, act like a total dick who did nothing wrong. Your girlfriend will then wonder if it’s something she did.

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Great Scenes Of Game In The Movies

In the last “Great Scenes” post I showcased the game run by Paul Newman’s character in the movie Hud. This time, it’s another classic move, Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, where super alpha Pee Wee seduces the shit out of Dottie.

My comments below are in bold. How do you handle it when a girl you like flirts with you? Pee Wee shows you how.

***

Kid: Is Dottie still working on your bike?

PEE WEE: No, I’ve got it back a couple days already.

Kid: What’s she doing to it?

PEE WEE: I can’t talk about it. James Bond kind of stuff.

[first rule of pickup: always be in character.]

Kid: Dottie’s radical with bikes.

DOTTIE: Hi, Pee Wee.

Kid 1: I say we cruise, dudes. It’s getting hot in here.

Kid 2: It’s steamy.

Kid 3: I’m sweating.

PEE WEE: Is my horn ready yet?

[pee wee doesn’t say “hi” back. it’s very alpha to skip pleasantries and get right to business.]

DOTTIE: It’s ready. It should be loud enough for you now.

PEE WEE: Where is it? Let’s hear it.

[demanding and brusque. alpha]

DOTTIE: Wait. I want to talk to you first.

PEE WEE: You are talking to me.

[there is a little overlap in temperament and attitude between alphas and betas, but there are also some things alphas do which betas almost *never* do. and one of those things is being a smartass. betas are hardly ever smartasses, especially with girls.]

DOTTIE: No, I want your undivided attention.

PEE WEE: *makes a face*

[nice face. teasing girls is very effective. and the best teasing is nonverbal, communicated through exaggerated facial expressions or body movements]

DOTTIE: Look Pee Wee this is important. I want to ask you something. I want to know, if you will do something?

PEE WEE: What?

[if you like a girl, and she comes on to you, a great way to respond is to act suspicious of her motives. so let’s say you’re in a bar and a girl you’ve been gaming reaches over to touch your chest. don’t jump at the first opportunity to make out. instead, say “heeey… what are you up to?” while giving her the stink eye.]

DOTTIE: I want to know if you’ll go someplace with me.

PEE WEE: Like where?

DOTTIE: The drive-in.

PEE WEE: Look, Dottie, I like you. Like! I like you.

[pee wee may be serious here and not actually like dottie, but if you do like the girl, playing a game of reverse LJBF can be a good way to heighten sexual tension. “oh i don’t know, carrie, i like you, but i’d hate to do anything that might… jeopardize… that. it’s very chancey.” be sure to telegraph your unseriousness with heavy sighs and head shaking.]

DOTTIE: I like you, too.

PEE WEE: There are a lot of things about me you don’t know anything about. Things you wouldn’t understand, you couldn’t understand. Things you shouldn’t understand.

[dramatic vocal tonality is so underused by men. all most guys know how to do is shout and bellow, like drunk fratboys. try experimenting with different voice pitches and pauses and tempos. it will add a theatrical flair to your conversation that is irresistible to women.]

DOTTIE: I don’t understand.

PEE WEE: You don’t want to get mixed up with me. I’m a Ioner, Dottie. A rebel. So long, Dot.

[The Golden Pickup Rule: Unless you can get a same night lay, always leave first. Always be the one to cut the conversation off. Always end the date first. Always be the one waving goodbye first. Chicks LOVE when a man walks away from them to journey… somewhere else, where only men with plenty of options journey. If you’re having trouble settling on a self-identity, you can’t go wrong with brooding rebel. This archetype is universally attractive to women. There’s probably a very good evo psych reason for it. So in a pinch, just tell chicks you’ve “got to be moving on. Don’t know where I’m heading, but I’m doing it alone.” Insta-pussy lube!]

Note: On a scale of 1 to 5, this post was 1 tongue in cheek.

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