Me: 45 yo, (amicably) divorced
She: 23 yo waif/neurotic in the booty call zone
Some grousers are gonna say, “well, she isn’t interested in a relationship”, conveniently missing the point that hot booty call sex with a 23yo kitten beats the stuffing out of stuffing an aging beauty with relationship glue. Also missing the point that to get to a relationship, it helps to first be fucking the girl.
Recent text chat snippet:
Me: No one can resist jerk man
She: You’re not that cute.
Me: Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be
She: You’re overly confident and full of yourself
Me: Aww shucks
She: Point proven
Me: (emoticon wearing shades)
NO ONE has ever called me ‘overly confident’ before…oh I’m feeling it now.
There are a lot of game concepts in play here. There’s the avoidance of defensiveness. “Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be” Agree&Amplify. “Aww shucks” And emoji game.
In a few short texts, Hackett conveyed a master class in jerkboy charisma game. This is the kind of uncaring asshole teasing that hot young women hungrily lap up. It’s not indicative of the extremes in assholery that a man can achieve, but it is within the sphere of behavior that characterizes smug prickitude, which is so tantalizing and arousing to women.
Welcome to Asshole Game Week, the evil twin of Relationship Game Week, in which Tales of Tingles Torqued are told as a lesson for the benighted. A warning to those who are faint of heart or tiny of testicle: This would be a good week to avoid visits to the Chateau. Buzzfeeder bromides and self-fellating Millennial feels are only one short click away for you!
Reader Reservoir Tip fires a brood-blocked, hamster-shocked, money shot to start off the celebrations for this week-long pagan holiday:
Funny story for you all:
Last night, I ended up in a little bit of a dilemma. I had two girls scheduled to come over at the same time, mainly because I was expecting one of them to flake. To my surprise, she didn’t.
I thought about bringing them both in and trying for the threesome, but decided against it. As girl one walks into my place, girl two texts me saying she’s arrived. I text girl two back and tell her that “the shit hit the fan” and that I can’t join her tonight. She’s pissed, and rightly so, really. What I pulled was pretty low, and definitely rude.
Nothing puts a lady in the mood like innuendo rude of a woman number two.
Regardless, I’m sitting around with girl one, doing a simple movie at my place, but she ends up being kind of a bitch, and we split after about an hour and a make out.
I text girl two back, “hey come over now.”
She comes right over and i boink her.
If your value is high enough, and the girl is horny enough, she’ll do anything, apparently.
We have a guest post today from dissident humorist/satirist/troll “Duck” (you can follow his Twitter feed @jokeocracy, under the nom de plumage “Duck Enlightenment”). He explores the subversive themes and cultural schisms underlying a gaming communitaaaahh kerfuffle in which many triggers were triggered and micros were aggressed. Begin transmission…
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A New Rallying Cry For Men: “Who Bitch This Is?”
During a recent video gaming tournament, one of the competitors, a man known as Shinblade, celebrated a tough win. A particularly dumpy female in attendance took offense to his victory dance, and attempted to physically push him back down into his chair. He resisted, then realized he was being assaulted by a woman and addressed the crowd with four mighty words that shall echo through history: “WHO BITCH THIS IS?”
This man Shinblade is a true American hero.
“Who bitch this is?” is an exhilarating assertion of patriarchal privilege packed into a pithy four word thunderbolt. It manages in just those mere four words to pack so many deep layers of privilege and masculinity it seems almost impossible.
Firstly, “Who bitch this is?” correctly and directly labels the offending female, who has initiated a physical altercation, as a “bitch”. Immediately from just the second word it’s clear the speaker is pulling no punches and refuses to bow to any PC concerns.
Digging a bit deeper, “Who bitch this is?” also explicitly declares that the venue where the words are spoken is a male-centric environment. Any “bitch” present in this place must therefore be the property of another man in attendance, and it is therefore that man’s responsibility to keep her in line.
Even further, “Who bitch this is?” recognizes that there are essential differences between the sexes and that the sexes maintain varying degrees of self-control over their behavior. The speaker does not address his concerns to the “bitch” in question, but ignores her to instead query the wider audience to find the designated male responsible for her behavior. She is therefore explicitly declared not responsible for her own behavior, as it is known in male environments that women are unable to control themselves and hence they are expected to be the responsibility of an attending male.
I believe that “Who bitch this is?” should become a rallying cry for a male generation in the West that has allowed itself to be pushed around by feminist nonsense for far, far too long. Reasonable debate has failed and the feminist establishment refuses to listen to rational concerns about where they are leading our civilization. Direct words need to be spoken, and this man Shinblade has gifted us with these four powerful direct words to show us the way forward.
So the next time some silly cow gets in your face, or puts her hands on you, or accuses you of being sexist: just stay calm and don’t allow yourself to become upset. Maintain your frame, look around, and then in a clear loud voice ask the room one simple and devastating question: “Who Bitch This Is?”
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I feel dirty. Still, I laughed. At everyone involved. Because that was one sad spectacle. #GoodbyeAmerica
What do you do with a girl who’s gone ghost on you? Answering the question, a reader supplies a text exchange he had with a ghost girl.
Hello.
Please use my e-mail in your blog, if necessary, just for a comedic release.
After meeting a girl at Tinder, getting her number, and texting for a bit, she went ghost. I decided to use a tactic and text her a week later with this interesting conversation.
Short, sweet, to the point,
Background info: beauty salonist, self-proclaimed beauty fanatic, high maintenance poss, has nice curves, has fiesty shallow personality. Until today.
Very broadly, there are three ways you can reply to a sex prospect who’s stopped communicating for no apparent reason.
1. Beta. (80% of men are totally gameless)
“Hey, remember me, Frodo Baggins? We talked about ice cream and kittens. You still interested in continuing our scintillating chat?”
2. Alpha. (Game savvy)
Examples abound. See non sequitur game or reverse eavesdropping game.
3. Asshole. (Accidental game)
The reader’s texts above are a classic demonstration of asshole game.
Ordering the three tactics above by their effectiveness:
Alpha (game savvy) > Asshole (no fucks given accidental game) > Beta (zero game having).
Yes, you read that right. You’ll have more success prodding a ghost girl to reengage by telling her “fuck you that’s who it is” than you will by beseeching her to remember the time you two spent together in a chat box one week ago.
Don’t misconstrue. Total Asshole game isn’t ideal. There are better ways to unsilence a will-o’-the-whore than nuking her Casper hamster from orbit. But, if you just want to entertain yourself while keeping the chance for a sex match higher than the betaboy average, and you are an everlovin’ narcissist who preens at the idea of passing the Jumbotron Test with flying colors, then Total Asshole is a legitimate means of masculine expression. Just don’t be surprised if it works.
PS I’m sure the CH audience is curious what happened after he sent the last text. Update?
PPS Did everyone notice how many words Rachel used in her reply to his “FU” flip-off? That, my friends, is what is known in the business as a twat tell. She was indignant……. with LURRRRRRVVV.
PPPS In a culture in which the sex market effectively functions as if there exists a decided sex ratio advantage for women (as it currently does in America), the return on Total Asshole Game will be much higher than it would be in a more level flaying field. Bonus shivs for the commenter who best explains the reason for this social phenomenon. (Hint: Abundance mentality.)
We are familiar with the hoverhand, a classic tell of beta maleness. (The hoverhand’s opposite is the hineyhand.) Introducing another beta male tell: The baby monkey grasp.
Mr. Bang Tow Jam is hanging on for dear life. She might slip away any moment.
I hope I don’t need to explain why fingertip clutching at various body parts on your girlfriend that aren’t her hands, tits or ass is horribly beta. You look like a circus elephant following mama around. The impression this leaves is one of fearing that your girl will bolt as soon as your grip slips loose. Which she probably will do, and by rights should do.
Note: I have seen plenty of white men mimic the baby monkey grasp too, and it’s always nauseating to behold. Barring exceptional circumstances, mate guarding is inherently beta, and all the more so when the mate guarder’s technique is so oleaginous.
The best remedy is to stop grasping; your beloved will respect you a lot more if you have the self-confidence to sit in the row ahead of her without reminding her of your viking warrior presence by latching onto her toes. Don’t worry, she won’t suck some guy’s cock when you’re not holding her foot, but she may suck some guy’s cock later when her foot is finally free of your clammy pincers.
Commenter dirkdiggly unzips in front of a mirror and ‘miringly unfurls this meaty tale of modern romance:
What fun it would be to make a “romcom” depicting a fiery romantic relationship as it actually plays out for the garden-variety CH apprentice…
Boy meets girl at a gathering of mutual friends.
Girl is objectively prettier than the guy, and clearly bored with her life and asteroid belts of hopeful orbiters, also present at the gathering.
Guy behaves outlandishly, or displays bold talent that sets him apart -no fucks given.
Guy negs girl, finishes her drink while she goes to the bathroom to gossip.
Numbers are exchanged. Guy writes hers on a napkin -loses napkin.
She calls after a few days of expectant waiting and overthink.
Guy “forgets” her name, but tells her that he remembers her hairstyle because it’s so common these days.
Girl asks guy on a date.
Sparks fly, fluids are exchanged.
Guy loudly poops immediately post-coitus, bathroom door open. Girl is fascinated.
Guy doesn’t call for a week. Smoke pours from girl’s ears due to hamster wheel tread stripping and transmission fire.
Guy texts “sup”. Girl swoons.
Casual sex ensues for six months. Guy avoids meeting her family.
Guy moves across country. Girl uproots entire life, quits job at Forever21, follows.
Girl arrives to find guy with new girlfriend…”babe I thought we had an understanding”
Credits roll to sounds of wailing/sobbing.
I’m drafting a script now, wonder which studio will jump on this “feel-good hit of the summer” first?
I’ll be setting up an indiegogo for those who feel compelled to donate.
This romantic scenario is far more common than the ones you see in typical rom-coms. But it would bomb at the box office, because women wouldn’t like it. Women don’t like depictions of love and romance that are too honest about the nature of their own sexuality. See, for example, Blue Valentine. Concealed ovulation should be your first clue that women are born masters at the art of self-deception.
