Archive for the ‘Escape’ Category

Dissolve the Republicans. They are worse than useless; their “me-too”ism knee-jerk quickness to dance to the Left’s funeral dirge composed on their behalf is leading them right into a hole in the ground. A future party of the right is going to have to fight a different fight — one that cuts out the beating heart of leftoidism itself and squeezes it to a mash: the propagandizers.

Commenter Porter at Mangans’s explains how to defund (and defang) the Left’s army of indoctrinators:

Dissolve their barbell on both ends. Both the very rich and their client-class eaters skew heavily democrat. A cunning Republican (I mean this, of course, hypothetically) would very publicly offer a grand bargain that bargains only him: Punitive, confiscatory, outrageous taxation on incomes over whatever figure, combined with meaningful cuts across the welfare spectrum, including elimination of the earned income tax credit. I’ll offer cuts to your constituents in exchange for higher taxes on your sponsors. It’s simply fiscal prudence with a little extra help from the wealthiest Americans.

Free the Cable Guy. Push legislation that unbundles cable packages and offers choice to the public in what channels they wish to pay for and receive. This would end the involuntary subsidies from cable customers to the left’s fringe media projects. Let each channel be subject to market demand…and let MSNBC drown.

And this isn’t as much a rep/dem issue as it is one of stanching the bloodflow to a tick…401k retirement accounts represent a torrent of tribute to Wall Street. End it. The left loves the Community Reinvestment Act. Give them more community reinvestment. Require 401 monies to be managed by institutions local to the business or employee. Much of this would flow into CDs at smaller regional banks where subsequent lending activity would occur. Wealth remains local and decentralized while Goldman bonuses are slashed to seven figures. There are no losers.

This is the way to seriously harm, if not kill, the mind virus that is the modern Left. Forget following the oh-so-sincerely-helpful advice from Democrat quarters that fielding minority candidates and assuaging women with feelgood pablum about free birth control and dropping opposition to electorate-altering amnesty is the way to success for Republicans. Would you take advice from the executioner on how tightly to knot the rope fitted around your neck?

Yes, Republicans could be more successful if they became more like Democrats (and even that is debatable, for what good is gimmedat lite compared to the real redistribution?). But then where is the Right except existing as a dangly, vestigial Kuato providing comic relief for the behemoth Left? What is the point of having an opposing party if its success rides upon how well it can mimic its ostensible ideological enemies?

No, ignore the plaintive wails for reforming the “right”. Hit the enemy where it’ll hurt them the most, even hurt them lethally. Suck dry the money spigot that breathes dark life into the Propagandizers and Indoctrinators. Do this, “””Republicans”””, and sit back in joy as the wails of the Left echo like a cacophony of squealing pigs being buried alive in your ears.

Of course, the reps of the mainstream right won’t do this. Many of them don’t really want to win; it would interfere with their cocktail glass clinking time. And, oh god!, don’t raise taxes one iota on those über rich Democrat non-patrons! But if by some miracle the right found its balls, if the spirit of Khan suddenly moved them to action, the above recipe to regain some serious power will work… at least enough to staunch the enveloping, suffocating demographic tide for a decade or two.


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A reader passes along this personal anecdote:

I wrote you about a year ago with a tale about a birthday dinner with a girlfriend where I showed up late, had no present, and subsequently violated her in wonderfully new ways that night as a result.  The main reason I wrote at the time was because I owe a great deal of how my life has changed, both at work and with women, to your blog.

Today I have another entertaining story that proves yet again how right your posts are.  I’ve been talking to a married woman for about a month now.  Her husband is well off, but about 15 years older and has made no effort to take care of himself.  He also has very little sex drive.  She does modeling and acting.  I’ve included a picture so you can make your own assessment of how attractive she is (please don’t post that if you do comment on the blog about this.  I’m really not looking to affect her career with this). [ed: she’s sexy.]

I’ve been working her pretty hard the last month.  She gets approached by men EVERYWHERE.  She even has pro athletes trying to hook up with her.  So I  had to go a different route and ride that line of being somewhat supportive when she complained about her husband, but frequently make sure she knew I found her sexy as hell, and wanted to violate the hell out of her.  Halloween, that tension build-up all paid off.  We were both at a party at a bar, friends of hers all over, and after just one drink, she didn’t care who was watching.  We didn’t even make it to midnight before I was violating her in the parking garage.  The thing that was most striking to me after that, was how hard she was working to try to get some indication of commitment from me to assuage any doubts she had about what had happened.  She clearly wants out of her marriage, but that old hypergamy makes her want to know she can jump straight from one secure place to another.

The saddest thing is that her husband effectively all but told her to go fuck me.  She’s spent years trying to get him to go to the gym, go do things with her instead of sitting on his ass, and be affectionate to her.  He basically gave no alpha, and didn’t even give any supportive beta either.  As she’d describe her marriage, he honestly sounded more like your typical housewife (let himself go, believes she should just love him for who he is, etc.) than a man.

I wonder if this kind of thing happened with any regularity in Medieval Europe?

Women simply cannot be trusted to act virtuously. Their sexuality must be constrained to some degree by the operating patriarchy if civilization is to flourish. In times past, the threat of lethal cuckold revenge struck fear into the hearts of whorish wives and alpha male interlopers. Today, the State ensures the cuckold foots the bill for any bastard spawn the whore may have with her itinerant lovers.

How far we’ve fallen.

But I digress. The photo the reader included of the cheating wife was quite telling. Some girls just have the “eye of the trollop”; their intense, smoky glare broadcasts far and wide “I act before I think.” I’m not surprised a rich man married her; rich men tend to be both ignorant of female nature (they can’t be bothered to learn) and hooked on the thrill of possessing a dangerously sexy trophy wife. Rich men are under the mistaken assumption that their wealth is enough to keep a wife fulfilled and satisfied. We here who study the crimson arts know better. Perhaps they deserve the cuckolding they get.

The “love me for who I am” platitude has got to be one of the most self-destructive pretty lies a person can sincerely hold. If you believe that, and act in accordance with that belief, I can practically guarantee you will suffer in love. Even the most naturally natural alpha males who strut with conviction that they are Satan’s gift to the world know that women require certain emotional stimulations to respond sexually and to fall in love.

What can we learn from this reader’s story? Well, if you like the idea of fucking sexy, bored housewives in nightclub parking garages, you should be aware of the following:

1. Does she give off that wonderful whore vibe? Watch for the eyes and the walk. Women who love da cockas have a certain way of walking. And if she glances even for a split second at your package, she’s pre-lubed.

2. Has she been drinking? Really, it helps.

3. Does she complain about her husband or boyfriend within the first five minutes of meeting her? Now you may think this is a recipe for being her emotional tampon so she can bitch about the asshole she loves, but the benefit to you depends greatly on how you handle her whining. Too much concern, you’re beta toast. Too little, you give her no excuse to find salvation in your crotch. Also be cognizant of the style of her complaints; if she’s down to fuck around, she’ll sound more coldly dismissive of her husband or boyfriend rather than earnestly despairing.

4. Do her friends all seem like sluts? Slutty female friends are rarely cockblocks. Do you know why? Because sluts love it when their friends are sluts, too. It means no chance of being judged.

5. Is it Halloween? If it is, double your odds of closing the deal on the same night.

Whatever you do, never give your real name, address or phone number to a married woman. The last thing you need is a shotgun in your face when you open the front door.

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Le Chateau has highlighted great and gruesome stories of alphas and betas, but what about those beta males who transcend, through sheer force of will, the prison of their supplicating souls? More than a learning tool or a life lesson, these enlightened post-betas are inspirations. The 80% or so of men who qualify as beta males need a role model like them; someone who can show them the way. There is a better life if they would just take it, and the reformed beta is proof that you don’t have to be born an alpha to have the good things in life and experience the flush of power that the alpha male takes for granted.

My prudish husband has left me because I lied about my sex life

When I met my husband 40 years ago I knew he was ‘the one.’ He had firm opinions on sex before marriage (outdated even then) and was a virgin.

As I got to know him, it became clear that he’d never consider marrying somebody with ‘history.’ He thought sex special and wouldn’t want to imagine his wife having it with others.

But, by 22, I’d been having sex for four years. Madly in love and wanting him to marry me, I lied.

He was bound to realise I wasn’t a virgin, so I made up a story that I’d been in a long engagement, giving up my virginity under pressure only a month before my wedding day, then reluctantly had sex twice with my fiancé, who then dumped me, leaving me devastated and ashamed.

He was very understanding and proposed soon after. We married and moved to his home town — a relief, as I’d worried we might bump into a friend who might speak out of turn.

We had two children and a very happy and successful marriage. But a few weeks ago, an old friend contacted me over the internet, and I invited her round.

My husband left us to talk and went off to the garden. Inevitably we talked of the past.

After she left, I found my husband looking devastated. He said he’d gone into the conservatory to read and heard everything.

He said he felt utterly betrayed, as he had a right to expect honesty, but our entire marriage had been based on a fundamental lie.

I said we’d had a wonderful 40 years, so what could it matter what I did before I met him?

He moved in to the spare room and avoided me. A week later he moved to a bedsit and told me he wanted a divorce.

Nothing would change his mind. Our adult children have tried, but he is absolutely fixed.

Men who want to find a woman for a long-term relationship or marriage (a codified LTR) are put off by histories of a slutty past. The woman who has given herself freely to men before him proves that old GBFM aphorism that it makes no sense for a man to pay for the pussy that was handed over no strings attached to other men when it was younger, hotter, tighter. You don’t seriously invest in a rode hard and tossed away wet pussy; instead, you ride it harder and wear it out a little more, then look for fresher pussy that doesn’t need its 60,000 cockas maintenance as soon as you sign the dotted line.

My method may be glib, intended to inflict maximum emotional pain for make benefit of my personal amusement, but the foundation upon which the glibness rests is true. Men have evolved intricate mental algorithms that subconsciously push them to devalue women with extensive sexual histories as long-term partners. The reason for this is obivous: the slut is a bigger infidelity risk, and thus a bigger cuckolding risk, than the chaste woman. Science has proven this, in yet another example of the lab coat crowd catching up with conventional wisdom and common sense observation.

Therefore, when a long-loyal husband finds out his wife rode the cock carousel, even if discovered to have occurred in a prior life of hers, his respect for her drops a notch. His love for her shrinks three sizes. His honed beta ability and predilection to put her on a pedestal and adore her suffers a grievous diminishment. She has, in a word, become a less worthy woman in his eyes. And, likewise, in the eyes of all men, because men, like women, share universal preferences for certain types of mates.

So good for this reformed beta for walking away from his once-whore wife. In the big picture, the sin she committed may be small, but sometimes it takes horrible and swift retribution by a man to violently shake a woman, and women in her sphere of influence, from comfortable delusions and easy expectations regarding the self-imposition of controls on their behavior. All it takes is a relatively few betas to toss a stone cold rock in the world of women and the ripples will eddy and swirl through the masses. The beta male has suddenly become uncontrollable, unpredictable, untamable! This is the stuff of revolution, and it will set women on the path to happiness more powerfully than a million grrlpower tomes, feminist blogs or fat acceptance hugboxes.

The haters are apoplectic. Their splutter is the stuff of delicious slo-mo videos. “But but but,” they will protest, “I can be slutty and still land a man! Any man who leaves me because I’m a slut doesn’t deserve me!”

Deservin’s got nothin’ to do with it, honey. It’s biomechanical turtles all the way down.

But I’ll throw the haters a bone, here. Yes, it’s true that a slut, assuming she is sufficiently physically attractive, can cajole a man into a relationship. Men are, before all else, born slaves to a pretty female face, and it takes effort to break those chains forged of unalloyed pulchritude. Many men do indeed slavishly pursue sluts simply because those sluts are hot with perfect apple bottoms.

But “sufficiently attractive” is the key word. The higher value the man, the more beautiful the slut has to be to ensnare him in a relationship. High value men, aka alphas, have options in the mating market that beta males don’t; these men, when they aren’t just plowing through sluts for fun and penile profit, will generally balk at dating sluts in favor of settling down with more modest, and less sexually experienced, women.

There is, then, a tacit assumption that the sorts of men the feminist sluts are pulling aren’t exactly the top of the alpha male heap. They are likely beta males, maybe some of them greater omegas with cute undulating manboobs and receding chins, who are so desperate for sex and female love that they can readily suppress their distaste for sluts if it means having a girl on their arms.

Maxim #56: The more limited a person’s options in the sexual market, the laxer his or her mate standards.

(For those interested in the science behind this, I believe there is a study floating around internetland which purports to show that very beautiful women with extensive sexual histories don’t suffer too much of a hit to their marriage marketability, because the betas who marry them are quick to forgive their slutty ways. In short, very hot women are so intoxicating that many men will assume the higher risk of getting cuckolded by them for the chance to enjoy a few years of glorious, incomparably pleasurable sex.)

In stark contrast, have you ever seen what an alpha male does to plain-looking sluts? It isn’t pretty. To call it pump and dump would be a euphemism. Think more along the lines of “facelessly screw and scatter to the wind”.

These realities of the sexual market aren’t often instantly apprehensible. You can go a few years only subconsciously picking up cues that your behavior is hurting your mate value. But in the aggregate of many lifetimes, and over each lifetime, the god of biomechanics imposes his relentless, merciless, unavoidable will. And you will bend the knee to him, sooner or later. You have no choice.

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Are happiness and sex antagonistic? A new study reports that couples who waited to have sex were happier in the long run. (Usual caveats about the accuracy of Daily Mail reporting apply.)

A study of hundreds of couples found those who waited to have sex were happier in the long-run.

Women particularly benefited from not leaping into bed at the first opportunity. Marriage also seemed to make them happier than co-habiting.

The researchers said delaying sex gave couples time to get to know each other and work out just how compatible they were.

Without this period of courtship, judgment can be clouded, leading to couples falling into unfulfilling long-term relationships. […]

Analysis of the data clearly showed the women who had waited to have sex to be happier. And those who waited at least six months scored more highly in every category measured than those who got intimate within the first month. Even their sex lives were better.

The link was weaker for men. However, those who waited to get physically involved had fewer rows.

Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder? Would seem like it. But not so fast.

First, I’m not surprised women who waited — or, more precisely, made their beta boyfriends wait — were more satisfied with their relationships. Women are psychologically, and ultimately biologically, predisposed to prefer holding out for sex, because it allows them more time to judge men’s mate quality and investment potential without risking a pregnancy by a man who might flee the next morning. There are very good evolutionary reasons why a woman would make a suitor wait as a test of his commitment to her. A man who is willing to suffer 182 days of this:

…is a man who is likely to stick around after she pops out a newt.

Second, selection bias. Does waiting to have sex really make couples happier, or are couples who are more likely to wait for sex also more likely to be content and fight less within long-term monogamous relationships? I suspect the latter. The kind of people who empathize easily and go along to get along are also the kind of people who have the patience of a saint. I bet people like this also have lower sex drives. It’s doubtful that sex itself, or refraining from having sex, is the causative factor in their happiness.

Third, some recent studies have shown that men derive their happiness within relationships from their lovers’ happiness. That is, when their women are happy, men are happy. The reverse is not necessarily true. So a woman who has held out for sex to make an “unclouded” judgment — and isn’t it funny that women think more clearly when abstaining from sex, while men think more clearly when sexually fulfilled? — is more likely to be happy with her choice of man, and consequently her happiness will infuse her man’s happiness level. But a man would be just as happy with a sexpot who put out early and often as long as she was happy with him (and faithful).

The biggest problem with this study is definitional. Happiness is not love, and it’s not sexual attraction. Love is passion. Happiness is contentment. Love is volatility. Happiness is calm acceptance, even noble resignation. Love is dizzying crescendos. Happiness is rhythmic tempo. Love is hope. Happiness is the relinquishment of hope. Similar contrasts can be made between happiness and lust. Conflating all these as if they were of equal merit, or equally valued, is misleading.

Most couples do not wait 182 days to have sex with the goal of maximizing their mutual happiness, and so we can conclude that most couples are willing to forego long-term happiness for short-term ecstasy. Our revealed preferences indicate that happiness is not high on our mental checklist of values or emotional states.

It’s an intriguing hypothesis, though, that the happiness women gain from lengthy periods of enforced abstinence they sacrifice in sexual and romantic satisfaction. The committed beta provider that female-compelled (and it’s rarely male-compelled) abstinence selects for comes at the cost of losing the sexy alpha cad that female-compelled abstinence selects against.

Maybe some massively underacknowledged subculture of preternaturally abnegating abstinent Evangelicals exists of which I’m only dimly aware that skews the average time couples spend in sexless purgatory well into the double and triple digit days, but in the world I live in — the one that’s pretty much a given in any community that isn’t orthodox religious — a 60 day wait for sex is nearly unheard of, let alone a 182 day wait. In fact, a wait beyond three weeks is pretty much folly for any man dating your typical SWPL chick; by that time, she will have moved on to fucking some dude who actually turns her on. Even the women who say they want to wait longer than convention would react with disbelief if a man told them he would be willing to wait six months before having sex. It’s that weird.

What good is long-term happiness if you can’t even score the short-term thrill? There’s the rub. As a man, you are really rolling low odds by pursuing, or, more precisely, by abiding the woman’s pursuing, the “wait to elate” strategy. The far-future happiness and relationship stability that a long sexless courtship might offer is greatly outweighed by the high risk that you de facto castrate yourself to the woman you are chastely wooing. You’d be a fool to avoid the bedroom for very long, when there is a good chance some other man will distract your girl’s attention during her prolonged bout of purity. And an even better chance you’ll accidentally say or do something during the dry months of your courtship that extinguishes the spark of her attraction for you.

This severing of happiness from sexual triumph, for both sexes, is one of the great unrecognized repercussions of the past 60 years of our Wild West mating market. And it seems like this is exactly the way most of us want it.

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A reader claims to note a trend in online personals:

[T]his is a trend I’ve noticed online, women who are QUITE comfortable with dating someone a handful of years younger but do NOT want anyone more than a few years older than they. What accounts for this trend? I mean, you could meet a 28 year old fat dude, or a 40 year old paleo-hardened guy who looks young. Why pre-emptively discount age like that? Most women I’ve met prefer someone same age or older.

I don’t know how widespread women’s aping of men’s standards in online ads is, because I don’t do online dating (at least not recently). However, from what I’ve read about the subject, most women’s preferences in online ads is for men older than they are; which makes sense, since age is a status marker for men in a way it isn’t for women. But assuming for the sake of argument that there is a small but growing contingent of cougars explicitly seeking younger men in what amounts to a mirror image of the universal trend for men to seek younger women, I believe I have an explanation.

First, keep in mind that it doesn’t matter what women demand in online ads, because outrageous standards that are far removed from reality are quickly weeded out of contention, leaving such delusional women sad and alone in real life. A lot of loser women who do the online thing subconsciously know they aren’t going to get laid by the man of their dreams, so they throw all reason and sobriety to the wind and just go hog wild laundry listing their fantasy criteria. For these women (admittedly greater in number now than every before in Western history), it’s more about ego catharsis than about actually meeting a man. ASCII therapy with a public audience of like-minded Medusas one-upping each other to the top of the entitlement heap.

Happily punching in a feverish list of ridiculous expectations in an online ad is the emotional equivalent of plopping in front of the TV (all shows cater to women except ‘Mythbusters’ and sports) and wolfing down a tub of ice cream. Feels SOOOOO good, even if it’s SOOOO bad for her health, looks and love life. Kinda makes a tidy little metaphor for civilizational decline.

Second, the few cougars who aren’t ugly, ragged or grossly obese but who left their prime years far behind in a haze of drunken binges and cock hopping, will sometimes recognize, on a primal level, that their odds of getting a good (read: high value, sort of charmingly dickish) man of the type they pined for at age 20 to commit to them in a loving long-term relationship are very low, and that their efforts are best spent putting out for horny younger men who will at least offer a short term thrill in the sack. This phenomenon — of older woman transforming into clitorally turgid quasi-men — is not common, certainly not nearly as common as the media would have you believe. But they do exist, and you can be pretty sure that most of them could cut glass with their jaws and suffocate small dogs with their jungly, frosted pube patches. Do note, as well, that as women age their testosterone levels rise in step with their lowered expectations, making the prospect of loveless one night stands more palatable to their still feminine egos.

Let’s just say that these horncat cougars are not exactly the sorts of women older men with options want at all, and they aren’t the sorts of women younger men with no options want for more than a few no muss no fuss bangs in which to drain their aching teen balls. Because younger men, just like older men, prefer the exquisite intimacies of young women. Cougars probably know this on some deep supraegotistical level, so they respond to their constrained sexual market choices by pretending to prefer the company of younger men when in reality all they’re trying to do is avoid the soul crushing loneliness that would inevitably result if they adhered to the standards of their real desires and had to face the brutal and merciless cruelty of the sexual market head on.

Women never really lose the ability to extrapolate a one night stand into some fantastical dramatic relationship story arc, so a cougar having a couple of perfunctory fucks with an indiscriminately horny college student in a dating slump can sometimes mean the difference for her between having the will to live for another day and resigning herself to gardening and obesity. It’s not an avenue most older single women are willing to take, but for a few desperate specimens with male-like sex drives and bodies that haven’t yet gone completely to shit, it beats suddenly and unceremoniously being dumped into the invisible fringes of forgotten wastelands. At least for a few more years.

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Alex bemoans:

Speaking of uncaring assholery –

I recently made the mistake of, in the split second I had to decide, taking the drink a girl asked me to hold – “hold this”, and she dove towards the dance floor. The same impulse which bade me grab her drink, also bade me drink it (downed it in one shot, then moved on to dance with some other girl).

Does this set of actions come off as the right kind of assholery? Any chance for the pick-up to be resurrected afterwards?

This exact same thing once happened to me. And it’s particularly galling because the “Hold my drink for me” shit test is one of the most blatantly obvious shit tests that chicks with no ethical boundaries employ. She had asked me to hold her cocktail and I didn’t have a second to analyze the transaction before my fingers straightened to receive it. Then she trotted off to grab a scarf off her girl friend’s shoulder. Looking down at her drink in my hand, I felt a wave of disgust with myself. And I responded the same way as Alex: I gulped it down. When she returned and saw the empty glass she said “Hey, you drank it! That’s rude!” I answered Corey Worthington-style, “Oh… sorry I guess”, and walked away.

There will be times when your game acumen lets you down and a chick manages to sneak an artillery shell loaded with toxic vagina gas past your defenses. When that happens, the best you can do is recognize your error of judgment quickly, and rectify your demonstration of lower value as best you can without crossing the line into strident acts of vengeance that will socially ostracize you beyond the confines of one bitchy, manipulative girl. What Alex did in response was perfectly acceptable. In ascending order of face-saving effectiveness:

1. Continue holding her drink until she returns, then greeting her with “here you go!” as you hand her drink back.

So beta it actually hurts my balls a little just to type that out.

2. Hold her drink until she returns, then give it back coupled with a sarcastic riposte like “I should charge you for this”.

Not as beta as number 1, but still supplicating.

3. Leave her drink on the bar and walk off.

Better than acquiescing. But not as satisfying as number 4.

4. Gulp her drink and hand her the empty glass when she returns.

Congratulations, you are an acolyte asshole. Pussy lips will begin parting in five minutes.

5. Spit and burp burrito gas into her drink, then hand it back to her with a big smile.

This is personally satisfying, but you will be robbed of the priceless look of incredulity on her face when she sees an empty glass. Nevertheless, the glowing feeling you get from this private act of revenge will put a bounce in your step and turbocharge your game for the rest of the night.

The best way to reply to a girl who tells you to hold her drink is to pretend to agree and amplify. (Girls will try to pull this off by thrusting the drink into your hand and not waiting for you to reply.)

“Hold my drink. Thanks!”

Leaving your hands by your side: “Would you like your glass slippers polished too?”

Whatever happens, always leave your hands down at your sides. She will attempt to foist the drink on you and will expect you to reach out for it. When you don’t, the drink will crash to the ground. I’ve seen this happen. It is hilarious. The guy who did this told the girl to “go home” and “sleep it off”. That is some transcendental game, right there.

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A reader who wishes to remain anonymous asked:

I met a 8.5 girl online (physically I’m a 6.5).  She’s extremely aloof, ignores half my texts.  Likely never LTR material. We’ve made out, nothing more.  Her interest waxes and wanes.  She planned a trip to Central America without me, leaving very soon, casually invited me.  I’ve never really traveled abroad.  I’m fast-tracking my passport and scuba certification.  I offered a nice hotel, she insisted on hostels to “meet people.”  I don’t want to feel like a novice or tag-along.  How do I prepare fast so that I can lead, demonstrate value, enjoy the trip, and build heat between us?

Short Answer: Don’t go.

This reminds me of a similar story I once heard from a friend. He, too, had sorta, kinda hooked up with a hot chick, except he did it in person while on vacation. They shared a make-out, but nothing more. After returning home to their respective countries, she invited him to visit her in her hometown. He opened his wallet, boarded a plane, took a cab from the airport to her place, crashed on her couch, and came back home two weeks later angry, bitter and pissed about ever having gone. She hadn’t put out at all. He wasted money and vacation time on illusory pussy.

He thought by taking her up on her offer of a two week vacation in her backyard she was basically offering sexy funtime. A sensible conclusion for any man to draw, but unfortunately girls are anything but sensible creatures. Unless you are the Don Juan of game, any “innocent” meeting (in her mind) that hints at a contrived pretext for sex will put a woman on guard. Not to mention, a man totally betas himself by going out of his way to spend money and fly to meet a woman on her turf in the tacit expectation of sex.

For these reasons I suggest you don’t bother going if banging her is your primary goal. She will smell that and make the path to her pussy arduous and labyrinthine indeed. Your trip will be miserable, as a result. If, on the other hand, you can honestly tell yourself that banging her would just be a welcome complement to a trip in which your primary focus is scuba diving and hitting on chicks in hostels, then by all means take her up on her offer as a TRAVEL COMPANION. But beware the danger in assuming she will be anything more than a platonic tour buddy.

Now if you had already had sex with her multiple times, I’d advise the opposite: clearly she was smitten by your bedroom prowess and offered the trip to monopolize more of your lovin’.

As for the travel preparedness details, don’t worry so much about that. Attitude is key. Go with a devil-may-care air of whimsy and enjoy your time in a foreign land with someone who will buy you tropical drinks. If you’re worried about seeming like a tag-along, make sure you have reservations to do some things on your own. Read up on the place, so you aren’t stuck in a situation where she’s telling you about all the good restaurants, clubs and beaches. If you have to leave her behind once in a while to do something you like but she doesn’t, do it. You have to act like this is as much your vacation as it is hers.

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