Archive for the ‘Biomechanics is God’ Category

There’s no better way to start your week than getting down into the slop with squealing pigs, but in the porcine annals of oinkery this magnificent squeal must rank as one of the most try-hard, butthurt boar bleats ever to disgrace a social media trough. The title alone could convince the judges to give her straight 10s for porkingsthatneverhappened.txt.

I’m Fat And I Have Sex With Hot Strangers

Mic drop. Or should I say, meatloaf drop.

I could just post her photo and stop there, nothing else needing to be said.

If bed frames could cry.

This human-pig hybrid’s shrieking id is a sight to behold. She must have the fattest rationalization hamster in the known universe. (Obligingly, CH crowns her the Hamster of the Month winner.)

First, she tries to lull the reader into complacent acceptance of her wild claims to come by throwing out a morsel, or twenty, of preemptive candor.

I am fat — not curvy, fat. I have a fat stomach and I jiggle when I walk.

“jiggle” = flesh tsunami. Now I’m not saying she’s fat, but when she wades into the ocean Indonesians head for high ground.

Society tells me that this is a radical notion.

Did we sleep in class during all those years of stentorian Chateau inculcation? Society tells you nothing, moocow. It’s the God of Biomechanics who deems your lard disgusting to the vast majority of people. Even to fellow fatties!

It’s not. There are more girls like me out there. We just aren’t given space to be visible.

How much space do you need? The Great Plains?

I feel like I was put on this earth to be colorful and take up space

So were landfills.

and I am not ashamed.

Keep telling yourself.. and everyone else.. that.

We are told by the media that we need to live in shame, stop eating seventeen cheeseburgers,

That’s an oddly precise number.

We are told to wear something “more flattering” and “not to show so much skin” and “put your boobs away Melissa, you are scaring the children.”


Oh, I’m sorry, I would have cleavage even if I wore a turtleneck and I’m sick of trying to hide it.

Fat pigs love to assert a phony pride in their tits. But sacs of amorphous blubber don’t an attractive bust make. That’s not cleavage, Miss Piggy, that’s a sandworm lair.

My own father told me when I was 10 years old that no man would ever want to hold my hand unless I lost weight and stopped biting my fingernails.

Father of the Year. Not kidding. She only had to listen…

LOL@dad, they want to do so much more than hold hands now.

F YOU DAD, giving blowjobs in the dark to drunk losers is where I’m at now!

I am fat and I have casual sex with strangers, attractive strangers even.

That “even” is such a deadweight giveaway. Translation: once, a long time ago when she wasn’t yet fully fattened for the slaughter, she scissored with a lesbian who actually made the effort to trim her bush and shoo the parrots and monkeys out.

It was an impromptu mini vacation before I move to Portland to go back to school for my art degree, start a boudoir photography business and live amongst other body-positive, sex-positive women like myself and the beautiful beards that love us.

Who can tell parody from reality anymore?

I started swiping right on men and women on Tinder as I waited to deplane at LAX.

“Deplane, boss, deplane!” “No, that’s not a plane, Tattoo, it’s a fattie.”

I follow Amber Rose on Instagram and I find it infuriating watching other women tear each other down for what they choose to do with their own bodies.

The shunning of disfigured mental disease vectors is required.

I also find equally disturbing the entitlement some men demonstrate when a woman chooses to display any amount of skin or overt sexuality in their presence.

Men’s attractiveness standards are required. (Overt female sexuality is only offensive to men when it emerges like a reverse fat caterpillar from a size XXXXXXL chrysalis (a hard-shelled fupa).)

To me, being called a slut isn’t degrading.

The extra 200 pounds set her degradation bar high.

I see it as empowering and symbolic of me taking ownership over what I choose to do with MY body.

Stuff it full of cheap carbs until her days are an endless bloat parade of joint pain, labored breathing, smegma farming, and romantic failure.

My fat beautiful curvy soft body.

Ya know, slender women have curvy, soft bodies, too. So you don’t have that going for you, fatty.

Much to my surprise, people in LA utilize Tinder’s “Super Like” option like nobody’s business, making my quest for adventure that much easier.

Like pizza delivery.

Before I got to my first hotel I was talking to six or seven very attractive strangers.

“very attractive strangers”. The porky pig’s try-hard protestation is so transparent. Reality: these very attractive strangers looked like extras from the Star Wars cantina scene.

I have found that most men who want casual sex aren’t creeps or rapists.

Fat woman standards are very flexible, unlike their joints.

They just want to feel pleasure and make a connection however brief, just like me.

“however brief” :lol: :lol:

Sex doesn’t have to be a big deal. Sex doesn’t need to equal love for it to be mind blowing.

The grapes, they are sour.

It can also be about mutual pleasure and the way two or more bodies fit and complement each other.

with the help of a crowbar.

I have a pretty strict vetting process for picking up men and I have never had any problems.

“Zero alternative dating options? Check.”

I have pictures on my Tinder profile that are quite suggestive.

of a rhino birth.

If a man can have a normal conversation with me without getting gross and demanding, I give him the green-light and we keep chatting for a bit until we agree to meet up.

Men, you don’t need game to pick up fatties. You can talk about the weather with her, if you want. What are you waiting for? (“a hindbrain transmutation”) oh, right.

I find it’s easy to pick up on the entitlement factor, and that is a major red flag.

Total loser goes out with uglyfat, has the gall to think this means she’ll put out for parking meter change.

Just because a woman is showing skin doesn’t mean you have the right to expect sex from her.

That’s not why the losers who go out with you expect sex. (hint: it’s the lsmv corpulence)

Sometimes we meet for coffee, sometimes we go on an actual date, sometimes I go to their house and we are having sex within 15 minutes and sometimes they come to my hotel room at 2am and we bond over Louis C.K. and then laugh a lot and start going at it and it feels like old friends.

I.e., she has given up on the dream of love and marriage.

This bed won’t stay empty for long.

The chicken wing bones will see to that.

I had my own multi-city-state Slut Walk in a different city every night, with my mom staying in a hotel room right across the hall.

Ever notice the typical Slut Walker is the kind of woman least likely to have the opportunity to slut it up with men? Something else to notice: mothers of grossly obese daughters are so despondent for their child’s romantic future that any display of sexuality, however skanky and soul-crushing, fills them with pride.

Oddly enough, two of my hookups visit Portland rather frequently. Round two has been discussed and I am sure will happen at some point in the future.

The triumph of hope over pump and dump.

Each guy was attractive in his own way

All of the men I have ever talked to have been nothing but complimentary about my body.

Fatties will believe anything.

I have never had anyone see me in person and walk away or stand me up.

They spotted her on the approach and darted into an alley for a quick, unnoticed escape.

I am currently the biggest I have ever been and at the same time I feel the sexiest and most present in my body that I have ever felt in my life.

What a coincidence.

I am no longer afraid of my desires or being naked in front of others.

I own my sexuality and my choices.

So do slender women, and they don’t have to lie about feeling sexy.

I have a certain number of sexy individuals to thank for that.

And those individuals are Channing Tatum, Brad Pitt, and Barack Obama.

And no, I’m not telling you my number.

(it’s large and in charge)

Well, fuckin phew, that was a hot mess.

The purpose of posts like this one, besides the slaking of very special hedonistic and aesthetic urges, is to brutally shame these shoggoths off the internet forever. Their fat pride is poison, their phony self-esteem is propaganda, and their feminist platitudes are comfort to fellow misfits providing rhetorical rationalizations to avoid taking any steps to genuinely improving themselves.

Shaming uglyfats into oblivion is not just fun, it’s a righteous moral imperative.

Whenever you read some fatty going on about how much men love her “””curves”””, and all the “””great sex””” she’s having with “””hot studs”””, you’ll know she’s lying to protect her ego from the Day of Mirrors. There are no hot studs in her bed. She is not having any sex, let alone great sex. And she will never know love in the way that a slender woman will know love.

This is the message fat chicks should be receiving, loud and clear and continually, if truth and beauty are your scene. Anything deviating from this cruel to be kind message of realtalk will only increase and amplify the ugliness, of body and mind and soul, in the world.

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Contrary to blue pill unwisdom, it’s not mom jeans-wearing beta males or conspicuously dysfunctional omega males whom girls shit test the most; it’s greater beta/lesser alpha men striving for quality in their mate choice who are the primary targets of female shit tests.

And it’s not the hottie girls who most frequently deploy shit tests; it’s the mere-cute girls who have a reasonable uncertainty of their place in the sexual market hierarchy. (The fugs and HB10s are confident of their place in the henpecking order, but the girls in the middle have a lifetime of SMV status jockeying to look forward to.)

The dynamic isn’t hard to grasp. When a low to middling sexual market value man hits on a legit hottie, she will let him down easy. There’s no benefit to her from harshly rejecting lsmv suitors; she gets to feel a warm magnanimous glow from treating her obvious lessers well, AND she affords herself a measure of personal safety by not unnecessarily antagonizing potentially vengeful losers.

But when a middling to above-average SMV man hits on a borderline cutie with delusions of glamour, the female shit test protocol is activated with extreme prejudice. The shit test is a subconscious program initiated in a woman’s hindbrain which helps her determine if that striver greater beta male or lesser alpha male is really the sexy stud he is trying to project, or if he’s a paper pickup artist who will crumple under the withering assault of her snarky banter (which of course she thinks is flirting but which men of tender constitution will mistake for bitchy rejection).

Why is the borderline cutie the most egregious abuser of the shit test? The reason is because she doesn’t possess the incontestable beauty of a genuine hottie to buttress her self-conception; her relationship material attractiveness to men is less certain and more dependent on contextual variables such as how her competition stacks up and the motivations of the men expressing interest in her. To the borderline cutie, then, the shit test is a valuable courtship tool which serves the dual purposes of 1. propping up her shaky ego when men come to her yard to judge her milkshake worth (c.f.: sour grapes fallacy) and 2. determining if the men at or above her own SMV are legitimate ZFG contenders for her ZOMG heart, or if they are boring beta herbs in cad’s clothing.

All girls shit test when the suitor stars are aligned, but it’s the girls in the gray zone of pulchritude — the 4s, 5s, 6s, and 7s — who resort to the practice with the greatest alacrity. The homely girl may shit test the loser man, but any other men breaking the 20th percentile in SMV status will never hear a shit test from her, not as the shit test is commonly understood. (They might hear a grunt or a brusque cockblock interjection or a feminist diatribe, but never a romantically pregnant, eye twinkly shit test.)

The beautiful girl will likewise infrequently shit test, but when she does her targets will be men at the other end of the SMV spectrum: the alpha males and the men aspiring to alpha maledom. All other men (the great majority) will receive asexual banter or gentle brush-offs from the beauty… or, if they’ve made a real nuisance of themselves, eye rolls and verbal signals to girl friends for escape assistance.

It’s those desperate darlings in the fluid middle of the belle curve who level shit tests at just about every man who shows interest in them. Only upper echelon alpha males get a pass from the borderline cutie’s shit tests (for obvious reasons). Omega dregs also get a pass from shit tests (but not from shrieks of horror).

So why are aspiring greater beta males and lesser alpha males striving for the lass ring the most frequent recipients of female shit tests?

BECAUSE they strive.

Aiming for something better than what is assumed the due of the mediocre masses marks you out as a man to take seriously. A man an uncut above the rest. A man, therefore, with high sexytime value. Once you have pinged a cutie’s romance radar and tickled her tingle repository, she will reflexively lob a fusillade of shit tests great and small to happily confirm, or regrettably refute, your coalescing poonslayer profile. (Obligatory NAWALT placeholder here.)

The man who SKILLFULLY STRIVES for the best girls gets the most shit tests because he is perceived both as a man of self-regarding rarity and as a man capable of quickly bursting the neurotically self-doubting cutie’s carefully manicured ego.

The greater beta/lesser alpha SKILLFUL STRIVER — aka the bold man of intention possessing a nascent social savviness that evades the typical beta — is a man the cutie strongly desires, because he is also a man the cutie strongly perceives as attainable, as open to long-term relationship possibility, and as the best she will get in that moment.

THAT is why she shit tests him so eagerly. Pulses of white hot love have melted the neural bonds governing her propriety.

There is a field-tested premise that applies: girls only drop shit tests on men for whom they feel a budding attraction. It is a true fact. If you are getting shit tested by a girl, there’s a good chance your company has elicited in her rudely intrusive thoughts of your bangroom, as envisioned through her inner eye’s swirl of prophetic ecstasy, and of your gleaming conquest bed on whose sheets she twists.


NB: the shit test is a separate concept from the neg. You neg bona fide hotties even when they aren’t shit testing you because they come pre-equipped with an SMV self-awareness index topping 100. You don’t necessarily need to neg girls who are shit testing you, if those girls aren’t ultrababes. The neg is not meant to be a response to a shit test (in fact, using it as such can backfire on you); the best responses to shit tests are ones adhering to the Agree&Amplify or the charming jerkboy formats.

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The tankgrrl careerist shrike demands that men desire her for her careerist shrikery. The obstacle to her demands is the basic biological constraint of male sexuality that compels men to be attracted to relatively less accomplished, more feminine women. At best, a woman’s career is neutral background noise to a man’s desire; at worst it actively undermines love.

Ollie passes along a story that demonstrates this sexual market reality quite well.

What amazes me about this story is the number of idiots that are dumbfounded as to why Mr. Rossdale has been boffing the lookalike nanny instead of his “awesome superstar real thing” wife.

To any man with even a hint of red-pill awareness (and the ability to be honest with himself) the reason for Mr. Rossdale’s dalliance is as obvious as the mid morning sun:

His wife was a Diva.

Why is this so bad?
1. She has spent years constantly being marinaded in a bath of non-stop adulation and fan worship. Even the most noble woman will eventually succumb to the spiritually toxic effects of that attention bath, and become an insufferable narcissist, utterly incapable of loving anything but her aging reflection.

2. She has a full time job as a recording artist. This kind of job is designed to destroy relationships like a cruise missile, with its potent combination of time-consuming recording/promoting sessions, long distance separation (touring), and surrogate attention heaped on by adoring fans. A relationship needs to have some degree of contact to exist.

3. She also has a job as a TV show judge, and a fashion design company to run on top of that. As often remarked in these hallowed halls, a woman obsessed with her career is a woman who is fundamentally damaged. The precious little free time Gwen had left over from her recording job is furiously consumed like the last slice of cake at a hambeast convention. Ergo, the nanny, whom I’m pretty sure has spent an order of magnitude (or two) more time loving and caring for Gwen’s own children than “Amazing Superstar” Gwen herself has.

Now, think about the 25 seconds or so of yearly photo-op family time Gwen can afford her progeny and subdivide it by 50. That’s the amount of time Gavin gets for intimacy with his bombshell wife. Essentially, being Gavin Rossdale is like owning a Bugatti Veyron with welded shut doors, or having a 3-star Michelin chef prepare you a sumptuous feast that is then placed in a sealed glass box for you to watch as it slowly rots.

Throw on top of this the fact that Mizz Stefani’s career and identity were conceived during and directly through the height of 90’s Doc Marten ball-stomping riot grrl feminism, and we have a recipe for marriage disaster that makes the Hindenburg look like a minor fender-bender.

Gavin probably did the math at some point, figuring “Why am I, a famous rock star, getting laid less than Elliot Rodger?” and took action, getting what a man needs in life from the nearest available source.

What men really want from women, aside from those oh-so important physical attributes, is a sweet, caring, loving helpmeet. We’re talking the kind of woman who adoringly reads her children lullabies and makes her husband a home-cooked meal. Pop superstardom is as useful to a man’s heart as an ice machine is needed for residents of northern Alaska.

I know this subject has been already covered in the “Dating Market Value Test For Women” section, but I really think it is time for the Chateau to once again spotlight the incredible attraction-killing power of high female achievement.

Aging famous women have it rough in two ways:

The alpha males they want don’t really care about women’s career goals or accomplishments. In this respect these alphas are no different than any man, and once the bloom on the rose starts to wilt, their men’s eyes will start to wander more frequently.

The alpha males they want have a lot of SMV, and thus a lot of sexual market options. No matter how famous, rich, and beloved she herself is, her high status husband/boyfriend has more options to trade up, because aging does not affect his SMV like it does hers, and his careerism does not negatively affect his SMV like it does hers.

Female hypergamy is a bitch, but it’s bitchiest to those high-powered aging women who must suffer the smallest pool of equally or higher-powered men acceptable to her mate match algorithm. Maybe if those men had no other options…. but then they wouldn’t be the sort of men desired by the Gwen Stefanis of the world.

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Continuing on the theme of “WOMEN…THEY REALLY ARE NOTHING LIKE MEN”, another study (h/t Arbiter) finds that not only are rape fantasies common among the female of the species, but, contrary to conventional tradcon wisdom, it’s the HIGH SELF-ESTEEM women who have the most frequent and pleasurable rape fantasies.

This study evaluated explanations of rape fantasy in a sample of female undergraduates (N = 355) using a sexual fantasy checklist which included eight types of rape fantasy, participants’ detailed descriptions of a rape fantasy they have had, a rape fantasy scenario audio presentation, and measures of personality. Three explanations of rape fantasy were tested: openness to sexual experience, sexual desirability, and sexual blame avoidance. Women who were higher in erotophilia and self-esteem and who had more frequent consensual sexual fantasies and more frequent desirability fantasies, particularly of performing as a stripper, had more frequent rape fantasies. Women who were higher in erotophilia, openness to fantasy, desirability fantasies, and self-esteem reported greater sexual arousal to rape fantasies. Sexual blame avoidance theory was not supported; sexual desirability theory was moderately supported; openness to sexual experience theory received the strongest support.

It appears women have rape fantasies because… wait for it… it TURNS THEM ON. Which makes sense. Fantasy is based on real desire. (For proof of this, ask yourself when was the last time a woman admitted she fantasized about sex with a dutiful beta provider.)

Rape fantasies aren’t reactions to negative real life experiences or evidence of imbalanced psychologies; quite the opposite, rape fantasies are the domain of women who think highly of themselves and are comfortable with their sexuality.

Arbiter interjects,

Yet another finding that contradicts the feminist worldview. The women who like sex the most and are the most daring, are the ones who fantasize about rape the most. These are the toughest women, the most independent women.

Feminists claim that “rape is about control”. It is “a way for men to control women”. In that case it should be the women who feminists consider traitors who have the most rape fantasies, shouldn’t it? The women who are the most “submissive”, women who are obedient slaves to the evil men, shy and afraid, quiet as a mouse, “seen but not heard” and all the things feminists imagine about conservative women since they don’t know any. Instead it’s the toughest women who enjoy rape fantasies the most, since rape is about sex, not the “patriarchy’s” control.

What’s equally interesting is why women who are lower in sociosexuality and in self-esteem have fewer reported rape fantasies. Maybe they are less honest about their true desires, thinking them shameful? Or maybe they simply have lower libidos than more erotically feminine women, and this is reflected in their lower incidences of the sorts of sexual/romantic fantasies that preoccupy the female hindbrain.

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…and fantasies are based on real desires.

The nature of women’s rape fantasies: an analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents.

This study evaluated the rape fantasies of female undergraduates (N = 355) using a fantasy checklist that reflected the legal definition of rape and a sexual fantasy log that included systematic prompts and self-ratings. Results indicated that 62% of women have had a rape fantasy, which is somewhat higher than previous estimates. For women who have had rape fantasies, the median frequency of these fantasies was about 4 times per year, with 14% of participants reporting that they had rape fantasies at least once a week. In contrast to previous research, which suggested that rape fantasies were either entirely aversive or entirely erotic, rape fantasies were found to exist on an erotic-aversive continuum, with 9% completely aversive, 45% completely erotic, and 46% both erotic and aversive.

When fantasy becomes all too real, women’s true desires still shine through like a heartlight.

Among college-aged women,approximately 40% of rape victims report continuing to date their attackers (Wilson and Durrenberger 1982; Koss 1989).Women’s positive expectations for a relationship correlated to self-blame and reduced anger in response to coercion (Macy et al.2006).

Pulp romance novels featuring badboys, jerkboys, and yes, rapeboys, are a $1.4 billion-a-year market (consumed almost entirely by women). Erotica-slash-porn for women is by far the most popular book genre. This tells us something very profound about women and their sexual nature that frightens feminists and tradcons alike. But we shouldn’t shy from confronting sex differences, however distasteful or discomfiting, just as we shouldn’t shy from confronting uncomfortable truths about race differences.

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Executive Summary: There’s a tight link between female fertility and divorce.

Do women initiate the majority of divorces because men are innately “badder” than wives? Or, is it more likely something else which motivates wives — something intrinsic to the demands of their female desires — to push for marital dissolution at greater rates than husbands push for it?

CH has tackled the subject of female-initiated frivorce. It’s good to revisit the topic for clarification, because there are a lot of people who still labor under delusions about the malign effects on society of the divorce industrial complex, and what exactly incentivizes wives to file for the majority of divorces.

Feminists like to point to statistics that supposedly show that divorced women experience a fall in their standard of living as proof that wives are reluctantly initiating divorces to get out of marriages to ill-behaving husbands. There are two problems with this highly misleading statistic (assuming the stat is true in the sense it is being used):

1. The presumption that women are thinking through the long-term and less tangible financial consequences of divorce when the short-term and more tangible incentives are all in the woman’s favor.

A woman who knows she will get half, the house, and custody with child support thinks she will hit the jackpot in the event of divorce, because those rewards are immediate and tangible. She won’t be as likely to think through the prospect of diminished career potential or sexual market value. Incentives matter in human behavior, and front-loaded incentives matter more than downstream disincentives.

2. The drop in a divorced woman’s standard of living, if true, is likely based on a faulty comparison with her standard of living while she was married. The better and more relevant comparison is between the standard of living of a divorced woman and her life as a single woman before she got married. Do divorced women live better than they did as single women BEFORE they got married? That is the useful metric which will shed light on whether divorce really is a bad economic decision for women.

Regarding the supposed post-divorce drop in women’s standard of living, WPrice added:

I tend to reject the statistic, because it usually refers to a feminist study from the 1980s (when academic feminism had carte blanche to make things up). However, it’s true that a woman’s income often looks low on paper following divorce. This is because child support, child tax credits, EIC, property transferred to woman from ex-husband and other benefits are not counted as income. In the meanwhile, it looks like a man’s expenses have gone down, because he no longer gets to claim these expenses on his tax returns. The truth, however, is that she gets all of the supposed increase in his living standard and then some directly in her pocket. The statistic is so deliberately dishonest that it ought to be called what it is: a lie.

Divorce is deliberately set up to ensure that women lose as little as possible when leaving their marriage for whatever reason. Men, of course, are punished no matter what the reason.

The reason our laws, and in particular divorce laws, are biased in favor of women, has to do with the human psychological underpinnings that emerge from the Fundamental Premise.

The divorce rate skyrocketed right after no-fault divorce was passed in CA in 1969, followed by most other states. It has since declined from its mid-1970s high and leveled off (but still nowhere its historical lows in the US pre-1969), so whatever shock to the marital system no-fault divorce instigated seemed to have worked itself out by the 1980s.

CH is fond of the Diversity + Proximity = War equation, but there’s another one we love just as much for its pithy descriptive power:

Options = Instability.

A young woman in her nubile prime has more romantic options than a same-age young man. This makes commitment at that age inherently unstable (especially for naive beta males). The formula reverses for men, who experience a rise in romantic options as they get older and gain social and financial status, (and given that men of all ages are attracted to female youth and beauty, there would be incentives for an older husband to trade his status for a younger second wife).

Theoretically, then, we should find that female-initiated divorce is mostly by YOUNG wives, and male-initiated divorce by OLDER husbands. And that is pretty much the case… but for the former only.

From Dalrock:

As I’ve shared previously the data shows divorce rates are highest when the wife is young and has the incentive to commit divorce theft, and lowest when the wife is older and the husband has the incentive to commit divorce theft.  Divorce is actually least likely when conventional wisdom suggests it occurs most, when the wife is older and the husband has the opportunity to dump her for  a younger woman.

On the surface, this result is strange. But thinking about it, I can tell you why the divorce rate doesn’t follow a symmetrical “U-curve” that reflects older husbands “trading up” for younger second wives: men, unlike women, are simply more comfortable keeping two lovers simultaneously. Husbands don’t have a problem screwing a mistress and coming home to a doting wife. Wives DO have a problem screwing around and maintaining a happy facade with their cucked beta hubbies.

In short, men have a harem mentality. Women don’t.

One glaring correlation that emerges when examining divorce trends is that the divorce rate mirrors women’s likelihood of getting pregnant (aka how fertile she is, aka how hot she is).

The divorce rate and the female fertility rate, if superimposed, are practically IDENTICAL. Divorce is, to a great degree, a function of a woman’s sexual desirability and her options in the sexual market. The more romantic attention from desirable men a young wife can command, the more unstable her marriage.

If stable marriages are a noble societal goal, then encouraging later marriages would work to lower the divorce rate. But, this strategy also works to lower the marital fertility rate, as older mothers have fewer children than younger mothers. Plus, beta males with rising SMV (sexual market value) don’t much like marrying road worn and put away hard women in their 30s, and they won’t if they don’t have to.

A better social strategy would be to instruct young men in the ways of seducing women — both premaritally and maritally — so that they can better tame and redirect their young wives’ hypergamous compulsions to themselves and away from alpha male interlopers. Still another possibility is pairing off younger wives with older husbands, for a balanced SMV match. Or, removing the disincentives to stay married that have become part of divorce and family laws.

(FYI, women will always receive the bulk of child support, and child custody, because women are naturally disposed to the task of child-rearing in a way that men aren’t. Most men don’t much like the drudgery of child-raising, but for that minority of ex-husbands and fathers who crave the joys of being a full-time dad, the family court system should be reformed to better sympathize with their needs.)

Bottom line: If divorce laws are grossly unfair to either sex, they need to be changed. Lamely indulging in “life is unfair” white knightism posturing is no excuse for accepting the continuance of bad laws. (Perspective: “racial quotas are wrong.” “life is unfair.” See how that doesn’t work?)

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Any guesses what it might be?

Basement Gollum: “Muscles!”


Basement Gollum: “Looks!”


Basement Gollum: “Facial symmetry!”

Ah nope.


The game maestros are, yet again, correct in their worldview. ♂SCIENCE♂ clearly confirms the field observation that women are instantly and romantically curious about a man who is in the company of other women, especially if those women aren’t fat bluehair feminists.

[Female preselection] solves a more important adaptive problem for females than for males—getting information about a potential partner. Because men are often initially concerned with the attractiveness of a partner, they can look at a female and instantly discern a fair bit of mate-relevant information. That’s often less the case for women. […]

Back in the 1970s, a pair of researchers conducted an experiment to examine the importance of having a physically attractive partner. Participants evaluated men who were either the boyfriend of, or unassociated with, a female; and the female was either attractive, or unattractive. Of the four conditions, the men with an attractive girlfriend were evaluated the most favorably. The men with the unattractive girlfriend were evaluated the least favorably. This was taken as evidence of how the company you keep seems to be important. […]

Because physical attractiveness is an important cue for female mate-value, the perceived quality of a man’s female partner can be determined to a large extent by how physically attractive she is. Due to positive assortative mating, this can have a bearing on a man’s own mate-value. Some studies have demonstrated that mate copying effects are stronger when the female partner of a man is physically attractive than if she is less attractive or perceived as unattractive. In some research I personally conducted, a man’s mate-value was elevated simply by having physically attractive female friends. […]

Based on the research presented above, a man looking to romantically attract women might do well to surround himself with beautiful women. And if one (or all) of them behaves favorably toward him, all the better.

CH has discussed this topic many times, because it is important. You can fast track your seduction successes by rigging the game with a powerful attraction-building shortcut: the presence of an (attractive) woman to cue other women that you are a HSMV man.

But be careful. Being seen with an ugly fatty will actually hurt your attractiveness to other women more than being seen alone! The ideal set-up is one in which your female company is a young, cute girl who acts a little too vajcurious with you. (Btw, older men can greatly increase their close rate with younger women through the application of this principle.)

Of course, getting that first cute babe to join you on your nightly poon expeditions isn’t a small feat. But once you have her, successive cute babes become easier to score. It’s like the stock market; you’ve gotta find the money to invest, but once you’ve got a steady return on investment you can let the magic of compound interest work and live off your dividends.

In the future, I will have a post about game specifically designed for ugly men (bottom 20% in physical appearance), and preselection will play a big part in the ugly man’s ability to extend his dating market victories beyond a few one-off flukes.

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