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Archive for the ‘Feminist Idiocy’ Category

How do you turn a meek nerd into a ZFG shitlord? You deposit his dignity and livelihood in the Leftoid Equalist charnel house and make a martyr of him.

This is the new profile photo James Damore uploaded to his social media. (via):

That’s the steely gaze of a man who has suffered his enemies’ bloodlust and lives to visit his vengeance upon them.

Damore, for those readers who don’t know, is the Goolag (formerly known as Google) software engineer who wrote a “manifesto” (aka an essay of common sensical observations and associated empirical evidence in support) about the Diversity KKKult that suffocates dissent at tech oligarchies in Silicon Valley.

In sum, he reminded the fungibility cultists that women are different than men, and that this immutable fact of humanity has implications for representation in fields like computer programming that cater to the inborn talents and preferences of men. He said Goolag’s fevered efforts to achieve employee sex and race ratios that spergily align with their ratios in the total US population is a fool’s errand that will inevitably heap miseries and injustices on those who are genuinely good at their jobs and uninterested in helping push the Diversitopia Propaganda and Anti-White Humiliation Protocol.

Damore, a mild-mannered, socially awkward young man, is being transformed by his experience with the Equalism Fuggernaut into a hardened soldier for Truth and Sanity. He is a herald portending the arrival of Generation Zyklon. There will be more like him to come, because deranged power hungry shitlibs with their backs against the wall and their egos on the line will only become more committed to their witch hunts and ritual defamations of realtalkers and honest men.

But as the souls of the Damores of the West are piled high in the purgatory of shitlib animus, stripped of their jobs and voices and made persona non grata to future employers, the hunger for righteous retribution grows stronger among those remaining who are next in line as sacrificial Whites bilked and discarded to placate the shrieking circus freaks demanding surrender to the Lords of Lies and their vision of a deracinated Globohomo Slurry ruled by a rootless disconnected credentialati and merchant class who buy their way out of the consequences of their societally destructive policies.

The Day of Fire and Fury nears.

There’s a disturbance in the farce. It’s White men finding their light sabers again.

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You are about to enter another dimension of the sexual market. A dimension not only of unsightly fat and scolding schoolmarmery, but of repulsive loudmouthed bitterbitches. A journey into a worthless land of self-entitled fat Hillary-loving bitches. Next stop, the Would Not Bang Zone!

Via AutoAdmit, a gem quality thread has coalesced around the story of a fat chick in DC — Jesse Peterson — who was the featured coastal shitlibopolis representative of her swelling species in a Bezos Post Date Lab social experiment designed to prove the pointlessness of pursuing the post-femininity American cow. A couple of AAers put it best,

Date: August 3rd, 2017 9:04 AM
Author: Ozzie Canseco

its incredible how women are all converging to this one horrible personality.

***

Date: August 3rd, 2017 9:06 AM
Author: LTDanCaffey

Titcr.
It’s like all single shrews in major metros are morphing into some hybrid of Sarah Jessica Parker in SitC and the shrew from Eat, Pray, Fuck with some Beyoncé girl power mixed in.

A little background on Jesse, emeritus rider of the cock carousel, courtesy of her About page at her dating blog (aka the place she collates the wretchedness of her personality and will come to regret when she’s 40, unmarried, and sleeping with a small army of cats nestled in her gut folds):

Hey betches,

Welcome to Tinder District! I’m so glad you’re here, even though you may not be able to tell through my chronic RBF.

Afeminine? Check.

My name is J. I’m 23 years old, live in Washington, DC, and by day I do management consulting.

Anti-natalist careercunt? Check.

By night (and weekend), however, I’m a serial dater.

Slut, or pretensions to sluttery? Check.

Since I started this blog in July 2015 (when it was ClarendonTinderDiaries.wordpress.com; really rolls of the tongue, right?),

Grandiose self-conception as a dazzling prose stylist belied by horribly dull writing? Check.

I have been on over 100 first dates.

Unloveable? Check.

Two have turned into relationships (thank God those went nowhere),

Allergic to accountability for her decisions? Check.

many were good, several turned into second and even third dates – but that’s not why I’m here. The thing that keeps me coming back is the bad dates – the ones that turn into a story for me to tell my close friends, future grandchildren, and the entire Internet.

Attention whore? Check.

Oh, and the free drinks and meals. Those also keep me coming back.

Low sexual market value chick unable to date anyone but supplicating beta males who eagerly foot her bill for a chance to pork her oinky trough? Check.

So, welcome, readers! I hope you get a laugh, a nugget of useful life advice, or something new to read while at work contemplating quitting your shitty job.

XOXO,
J

And a recent photo of Jesse, for context in which to place her empty try-hard braggadocio:

She’s a 5 without the insulating layer of blubber, a 2 with it.

Sadly, Jesse is not an outlier. The shitlib cities are filled with CUNDTs like herself: totally converged into the technofemcuntyassqueen man-hating spiteborg, committed to spending their prime nubility years hunting elusive alpha males in the urban junglelove, narcissistic to a degree that would have shocked Narcissus, delusional about their sexual and romantic appeal, and more often than not carrying an extra five or fifty pounds.

Is it any wonder American men have stopped “manning up” and taken nuptial (read: financial) responsibility for these ingrate shoggoths? Women, if you struggle to find a man worthy of your curated and well-marbled self-image, look in the mirror and read the reactions of the world outside your dating blog to your crass behavior and shitty personality. 100 dates in one year? That’s not a banner to wave proudly; it’s a red flag that your goods are rotten.

How obnoxious is this bitch? From her Instawhore:

In her words, she had an awful date and hated the man with whom she was paired, yet she still wanted to exploit his graciousness by copping an “appeal deal” with him to rate each other equivalently in the Bezos Post-Op Date Lab story, so that she could continue to look good to her blog audience of aspiring spinsters. Thankfully, our intrepid beta male found an ounce of scrotal juice still circulating in his manhood and rated her lower than the entitled blobster demanded to be rated.

Management consultant Jesse Peterson, 23, describes herself as “just about the friendliest and most outgoing person there is.”

So friendly she hastily pens post-date snarkbait shitting all over the men who buy her drinks.

She also loves working out, bottomless brunch and a slightly dark sense of humor.

Working out => is 40 pounds overweight
Bottomless brunch => boundless bottom
Dark sense of humor => confuses hackneyed sarcasm for humor

I was much more nervous before this date than any Bumble or Tinder date. I’ve been on dates with a few Dans, and all of them were weird.

The fault lies not with the Dans.

We talked about favorite foods — I write a cooking and baking blog.

Avoid unmarried women who are a little too into cooking. That goes double-chinned for women into blogging about cooking.

And I write a dating blog.

If a chick admitted this to me on a first date, I would walk out immediately, no reason given. At the very least, a chick who feels comfortable telling me this doesn’t respect my refined taste in women and unapologetically high standards.

I’m just interested in exploring people and opportunities and dating culture.

Every girl who has told me she’s into “exploring people” was really into exploring herself for the umpteenth time and receiving external validation for it from the people she claims to want to explore. And “opportunities” is just slutspeak for “cockas”.

Dan: I can’t date a vegetarian; I left hungry. I got home and I ordered a turkey leg.

Vegetarian girls are more often fat than thin. That should tell them something, but when the world revolves around them and mirrors are magical devices found only in Harry Potter books, then one could be forgiven for assuming these broads have an intrinsic ability to put 2 and 2 together. Or maybe their concept of vegetarian is “a plate full of greasy fries and a side of pizza”.

I’m not ready for the gawking to end yet. From another dating-is-hell-on-fatties post at her Unloved Fatty blog:

I didn’t particularly care about continuing to talk to Jack, and I also ignore literally all CMB notifications I receive, so I did nothing.

The attention whore loves accumulating dating apps, so she can proudly claim she ignores them all. It would not suffice to simply not have the dating app on the iPhag. She must have it and not have it, grasshopper.

Jack, however, reached out.

“Men want me, they really want me!”

Jack – Want to get margaritas soon?
J – Sure!

So, I sent him my phone number – because anyone who wants to buy me a margarita is a friend of mine.

From its inception, CH has advised men to avoid buying drinks for women. To this day, the advice retains its merit.

It was two full days before I got a message from Jack, but he made up for his tardiness with sweeping romantic apology.
Jack – Hey, this is Jack from that bagel app

Ahh, pure poetry.

Got her attention. (Keep it short and sweet, gentlemen. The ladies love a self-possessed shitlord.)

FYI her blog is filled with those retarded pop culture gifs that women love. They acquire the habit from their gay besties.

We continued talking for a while, including a brief stint in which my friend took over my phone and sent him a long message about the superfood benefits of kale (#bless kale), when our conversation turned to the events we had planned for the weekend.

From the second I saw the ‘Yikes’ I knew something was amiss. But I was unsure what it was at first – did he frown upon the fact that I had not left all signs of neon and tutu back in college? Was he unnerved that I was not spending the weekend reading the latest political novel?

Like most straight men with a T level above 1, he’s disgusted by homosex and by the sassy platitude-spouting libchicks who latch onto the gay glorification gravy train in the hopes of tarting up their social media feeds with more colorful selfies.

All of that would have been better than his response. What do you mean you find it “off-putting”? You are aware you live in a country founded on the right to do all of those things, correct?

“Off-putting” doesn’t mean “deny the right of fag assembly”, you dumb bint.

I pressed on.

She persisted.

Ohhhhhhhh no. OH NO. I considered leaping off the nearest cliff to escape such ignorance.

She would’ve bounced back unscathed.

“inside a social construct decided by other people that doesn’t let you blah blah”…..typical poopytalk from your typical nasty woman. This is why fatties and other undesirable women glom onto social constructivist shitliberalism: the lies provide a handy rationale for explaining away, say, their lack of portion control. The CUNDT’s dating woes are never her fault; it’s always “men” or “douchebags” or “bigots” or “Trump supporters” or “society”.

She then feverishly texts Jack the Shitlord to “put him in his place”, and what she imagines as an epic BTFO of her antagonist just comes across like a butthurt fatty going well out of her way to make some stupid political point lost in the noise of her emotional incontinence.

HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE.

STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

YOU THINK PEOPLE ‘LIKE PLAYING THE VICTIM‘?

LITERALLY GET THE FUCK OUT.

Was Trayvon Martin ‘playing the victim’ when he was killed in an ethnic hate crime?

Surprise, a conformist GoodWhite plays the Saint Trayvon card! Newsflash, fatty, Trayvon pounced on Zimmerman the Hispanic hero and in the commission of his assault and battery received a load of lead in return. Tray Tray got his just desserts.

Were the 49 lives lost in the Orlando Pulse Nightclub massacre ‘playing the victim’ when their lives were unjustly ripped from them in a homophobic hate crime?

Funny, she forgot to mention that the Pulse gayclub killer was a Muslim.

Was I, or any other victim of sexual assault, PLAYING THE FUCKING VICTIM when we were raped, had our self-worth and self-confidence, not to mention ability to trust and, I don’t know, ability to sleep through the night without having a panic attack, STRIPPED FROM US BY A MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW HOW TO TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER?

Ten to one she was never raped.
One hundred to one if she was raped, it was by a black guy.
One thousand to one her conception of “rape” is really an ego-assuaging morning after regret rape rationalization for throwing herself at yet another garbage hour loser.

I was outraged. I would have killed him right then, if my insurance covered it.

The only thing you’re killing fatty is a plate of donuts.

Instead, I put him on blast in the betchiest way I know how

Shitlib women crave putting wrongthinkers “on blast”, and announcing their declared victory in war to whomever will listen. They’re like George Costanza thinking up a comeback zinger well after the moment has passed. It’s pure humiliation gotcha fantasy, a pageantry of the ego without substance, meant in the retelling to impress a very stupid and dull coterie of equally LSMV rejects more accustomed to getting ignored by high quality men than to putting those unattainable men in their places.

– by saying I felt sorry for him, using his own words against him, and turning the tables around.

I’m sure he was utterly destroyed by your lethal psy ops campaign.

He continued to not see the error of his ways and be the literal worst.

Resentful woman unable to convince man to cater to her feelz has literal meltdown in ASCII.

I’m out. I’m done! I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle humans or fuckboys or ignorance or Trump or anything that’s not at least 13% ABV or laced with THC.

This is the mewling of a woman who has experienced failure after failure in her search for a boyfriend. Naturally, she blames Trump.

So, fam, if you encounter an ignorant fuckboy along the lines of Jack, just remember that the best solution is to screenshot the conversation and put the entire thing in your Snapchat story and on the internet. Because, friends, it happens to the best of us.

So, fellow cundts, if you encounter a man who won’t tolerate your vapid lib bullshit and grating personality, just remember that the best solution is to publicly broadcast your private conversations with him in the hope that you’ll inspire a chorus of sympathetic losers to cheerlead your self-immolation and validate your desire to humiliate those who won’t feed your egotistical, self-absorbed, status striving herdthink.

The final word on the CUNDT and her species of post-America millennial woman:

they pair up with modern genderless shitlib males and get into those punching bag relationships where the wife is in the driver seat so both of their lives just sort of end up doing donuts, swerving into oncoming traffic, etc. if they have money they end up brunching and biking a lot and talking about global warming and refugees and rescue dogs. the woman becomes mean and haggard and a public nuisance and the man just looks at the floor a lot. looks like hell but tons of men jump right into it early and never reassess.

Good news. The Reassessing has begun. DOTR has a new meaning, and shitlib femcunt fatties will be hardest hit.

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Never often enough, the YASS QUEEN gaypedoface brigade and catlady consortium need a reminder that thecunt (aka hillary clinton) achieved power and a near-miss at the Trump House solely by using her husband as a stepping stone. From Harry Dexter White,

Eternal reminder that the only reason Hillary Clinton has a political career at all is because she is a woman. She married a man who was a much more charismatic and adept politician, a natural leader, and used his popularity to gain national prominence. She admitted this to the entire world when she was cuckqueened by Bill and remained – remains – in the marriage because she needed him to win her Senate seat.

All the posturing about “she overcame”, and glass ceilings, and yass slay independent and strong queen must be seen in this light. She did what women who managed to gain any degree of prominence in human history typically did – married the right man. And there’s nothing wrong with this, it’s just how woman navigate their way into the corridors of power. But don’t for one f**king second pretend she’s some exception, some revolutionary, the first of her kind.

She was handed her fame and fortune on a silver platter, but her incompetence, narcissism, and general inhumanity led her to fail where many other women would and already have succeeded.

thecunt literally got to where she is used to be by leaning on a man — her charismatic and much more successful husband — to empower herself. Without Bill, thecunt is nothing more than a corrupt, two bit trial lawyer in Little Rock. And yet she is a feminist icon. The lack of self-awareness among girth wave feminists never ceases to amaze, but thecunt’s life story is especially discrediting of the feminist elevation of her to goddess-like status, given that she was entirely dependent on a man to achieve sufficient notoriety to be able to claim the mantle of independent woman.

Or maybe this is what bitter middle-aged women think when they envision an empowered she-bitch: a woman willing to exploit the man in her life for personal gain and have the gall to assert she did it on her own.

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Platitudes are the curse of our times. The Pretty Lies are everywhere, and polluting the minds of our most vulnerable and emotionally fragile: single White women.

Here’s a revealing glimpse at one of the incantations performed during this Platitude Purification Protocol that single White women indulge to gain entry to the right-thinking GoodWhite World:

A morning zoo radio show had a discussion about the female orgasm and what women need to experience it. A chirpy White woman, quoting a glam mag article on the same topic, bubbled that women need trust to have an orgasm. The male hosts agreed, lending the skit an air of medicinal predictability.

This is a lie. As Overlord-pilled guests of the Chateau know, what women say and what they do are two very different things, especially in the realm of sex and romance. Women say: “I need to trust a man to relax enough and have an orgasm”. Women do: Have mattress-soaking orgasms with some bad boy who picked them up at a nightclub.

Women don’t need trust to have great sex. What women need is a psychologically dominant ZFG man who can arouse them to an autonomic orgasm.

Usually, when we restrict our range of options to women who are sexually unfulfilled, the men with whom these women have the most trouble having orgasms are the men women trust the most and know the longest: borefriends and hubbies.

tl;dr: Women say: “trust”. Women need: “alpha”. Trust is nice, but jerkboy is spice.

You want an uglier truth? Women’s orgasms may not be for women at all; they may exist to serve men.

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Recently, the Audacious Epigone highlighted a poll which found that, among women age 18-29 (the single White woman years), the most common preferred term of self-identification is “feminist”.

I was reminded of that poll and the data showing single White women voted overwhelmingly for thecunt (and for Gay Mulatto), single women are more xenophilic than are men,  and single White women are for open borders trash world globohomoism, when I watched this Jordan Peterson video and read the following excellent commentary from a CH reader. Note that I have already commented on the same Peterson speech, but the reader who forwarded the video, including his commentary, fleshed out my thoughts more exhaustively.

******

This series is amazingly good. Very long lectures, but saturated with good ideas.

This third lecture is the most recent one I have listened, and they just keep getting better.

You must listen carefully to 2:33:00 to the end, last question at the end of the lecture, about 8 minutes.

Peterson says that the SJW “equality-above-all-else philosophy” is predicated on personality factors associated with women, “agreeableness and high negative emotion” but even controlling for those, SJWs are more likely to be female. He then tries to explain this.

The relative evolutionary roles of women versus men, is men produce and women distribute, and insist on fairness. This was shaped the evolutionary background of human beings.

He talks about the role of women political power, which has never happened before, He notes correctly how their demand for equality runs up against the reality of differential productivity.

The SJW phenomenon is associated with the rise of women to political power. “We don’t know what a truly female political philosophy would be like.” He then correctly notes simply saying everyone gets the same thing, which is not a sophisticated philosophy. He evades saying this is all the “philosophy” they ever will generates. But there is no reason to think it will ever be anything else.

Peterson then quotes someone — he can’t remember who — and a Google search does not turn it up: “Men test ideas and women test men.”

“We don’t know to what extent women test men sheerly by provocation. It’s a lot.” “I’m going to go after you and see where your weak spots are.” Bingo. He recognizes the that women shit test men. He then says that in this movement, and using shame, “there is a tremendous amount of provocation.” He is recognizing that PC, SJW behavior is a shit test.

As I have noted before, feminism, from the beginning was civilizational-scale shit test that women, at some level, wanted men to overcome. They wanted a firm hand, and instead they got: “Whatever will make you happy, honey” The men of our civilization failed this colossal shit test. And that was when our civilization started to fall apart.

This is amazing enough. But it gets better.

Back to Peterson.

He next says “I shouldn’t say this.” Then he says: “I don’t believe this but I am trying to figure it out.” Ha, right! As a Freudian psychoanalyst, Peterson himself would know this is a major tell. He knows it is risky to say it, he decides to say it, but then he tries to introduce some not-very-plausible deniability. He talks about 50 Shades of Gray and says it is “comical” that at the very moment of strident demands for equality this bestseller shows that the subconscious female mind desires for dominance.

Calling this “comical” is a way of downplaying its significance. It is not comical. Another Freudian tell. It is rudimentary that people claim to be joking when they are saying what they really think but are afraid to admit it. The gigantic fact of the bestsellerdom of 50 Shades is not funny. It is evidence. It is damning, irrefutable evidence of what women really want versus what they say they want. Peterson does not use the phrase “revealed versus disclosed preferences.” But that is exactly what it is.

He then says that something else he is trying to puzzle out, and he agains says “it’s not like I believe this” — again implausibly. He refers to the “crazy alliance” between the Feminists and the Radical Islamists “that I just do not get.” But he does get it. He pretends to take Feminism at face value, that it is about the rights of women, the safety of women, the wellbeing of women, which it has never been. He says “Why they aren’t protesting non-stop about Saudi Arabia is completely beyond me.” But, it is not beyond him, as his next comments prove. He then says, agains distancing himself “this may be the Freudian in me.” He then tells the truth couched as a question: “Is there an attraction that is there attraction that is emerging among the female radicals for that totalitarian male dominance that they’ve chased out of the West.” Again the distancing: “I mean, that’s a Hell of a thing to think.” It is even more of a Hell of a thing to live with as your country and your civilization is committing suicide because your females are so desperate for an unapologetic dicking that they are desperate to import the Muslim bitch-hand. Peterson then says he can see “no rational reason” for the alliance between radical females and Islam. Correct. There is an irrational reason. Or is it actually rational for a woman to want what evolution drives her to want. He

He raises and rejects the simple notion that the female radicals are attracted by radical Islam primarily because it is the enemy of the west.

Peterson then restates his main point more strongly. “I’m not going to shake my suspicion about this unconscious balancing. Because the demand for egalitarianism and the eradication of masculinity accelerates there is going to be a longing in the unconscious for the opposite of that, the more you scream for equality the more your unconscious is going to admire dominance.” Pause, as if he realizes he has gone very far. Then in an aw-shucks tone: “Well, that’s how you think if you are psycho-analytically minded.” Which has already repeatedly said he is. So in the end he admits, by logical indirection, but nonetheless clearly, that this is what he thinks.

This is an amazing performance. You can see struggling to puke out the truth, against his will and better judgment. But he does manage at last to puke it out. Dr. Peterson is courageous man. But even he does not want to say some things out loud, and at least initially hedges when he does so. But he is a realist and a truth-teller first. But getting there is not easy. We can see him clawing his way toward the truth, and speaking the truth. We can see that struggle in real time in this video.

Peterson is a mighty slayer of pretty lies. He is nothing less than a hero for what he is doing, and saying out loud.

******

Single White women don’t want to be appeased.

They don’t want to be indulged.

They don’t want to be catered to, coddled, or placated.

They don’t want their tears dried or their complaints addressed.

They don’t want men to listen to their words.

They want men to watch what they do and respond with the requisite dignified and dominant masculinity.

They want to submit to a man, and to a society, worthy of their submission.

Now of course single White women will never tell you this, or admit these 100% truefact desires to even themselves…but they feel these urges, and their hindbrains demand this from them and from the men they shit test.

Single White women individually shit test men and collectively shit test men through the male achievement of civilized society. Our shared single White woman problem is a civilization-scale shit test, and as the reader wrote, the men of the West have been, and continue, spectacularly failing this single White women shit test.

Modren Western man fails this shit test so badly that he is fairly likened to the incel beta orbiter who is always on call to provide a shoulder to cry on while his oneitis fucks dirt world ingrates who beat her silly and crap in his yard.

That is how badly, how powerfully, single White women yearn for the pimp hand. Their yearning for the ministrations of dominant men beckons them to sacrifice their homelands for the thrill of the tingle. A tingle which has been lost to them as their men have grown soft and weak under the yoke of decadence and decades of weaponized anti-White male propaganda.

It’s time the White men of the West learned Game and brought their women to heel. The alternative is civilizational death.

Game can save nations.

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You only had to listen.

You listened!

The psychocunt man-hating dusty queef queen we narrowly avoided propelling into a position of absolute power where her corruption and hatred could go unchecked:

Truth in advertising. Hey Hillary, don’t you know our children are watching? HAHAHAHAHA cunt.

It’s time for thecunt to go on another of her wildwoman walks in the woods and spare us the displeasure of her return.

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Fake Indignation shitlibs were aghast that President Trump would innocuously flirt with a female reporter, expressing their Fake Outrage by claiming that his compliment of her smile was “creepy”.

That’s rich coming from libs, the crowd that loves the idea of tranny freaks whipping their she-dicks out to piss in front of their daughters in public restrooms, and back in the day mocking flyovers for finding offense in the president shoving cigars up an intern’s cooch.

And I certainly don’t recall any shitlibs tossing around the “creepy” label when Gay Mulatto mischievously flaunted his pants-stretched erection to a plane full of journoclits tittering like schoolgirls.

(Oops, it looks like free speech champion YooToob pulled the video for violating their frazzled lib egos.)

And when Uncle Joe Biden flirts with the incredibly underaged ladies, I don’t hear shitlibs calling it “harassment”. (Apparently, shitlibs believe it isn’t flirting if the woman doesn’t consent to it beforehand, thus retroactively annulling every relationship and marriage since time immemorial that began when a man approached a woman and gave her a compliment without first having her sign a consent form.)

The lesson is this: treat shitlibs like women. Watch what they do, don’t listen to what they say. JRH adds,

Does it surprise you?

Attention on action. Ignorance on words.

I have had a lot of girls who self-profess their hatred of me. Banged all of those minus the ones I genuinely wasn’t interested in.

“I hate masculinity” = words. They are crying for it, but too many limpwristed fags and those who have ulterior motives take it literally and run with it, like this sentence.

PS Reader midnighttoker astutely points out that Trump said “she has a nice smile on her face“, and this added clause has a subtle impact on how the compliment is perceived.

it’s interesting how he worded that. he didn’t just say she has a nice smile. most people would take that as a general compliment about her appearance.

instead he said she has a nice smile…on her face. that to me comes off as him pointing out that she has a nice smile right now, in this moment, because i’m talking to her, etc.

he wants everyone to know she is smiling because he is giving her attention. anyone else read it that way?

I read it the same way. Made charm often turns on these exceedingly nuanced semantic twists. Game is about managing perception — a man’s self-perception and a woman’s perception of him. Trump’s wording (and the dangling unspoken but palpably felt “…right now because I’m talking to her”) does shrewdly imply that it’s his presence and attention that is wresting a smile from the woman’s face, rather than that she just happens to have a nice smile which she carries with her everywhere and that Trump would like her to know he noticed. Trump’s essentially telling her, and anyone listening, that she lights up FOR HIM. Only the Trumpenführer could thaw an icy reporterette.

Trump is a master of Game, and a Natural Alpha. You could learn a lot from him about how to act around women just be eavesdropping on his Twatter feed or his Oval Office phone calls.

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