Archive for the ‘Game’ Category

The ((( Rebbe ))) explains,

The easiest way to get “The Look” is to find close family members who have it (and those who don’t). Your family members will be very close to you genetically, so study how women react to them. Even quiz women on their impressions: Ape the good traits and carefully avoid the bad ones.
If your father is an Alpha, this is a sincere blessing. Copy your father down to the slightest detail while noting his flaws (yes, every Alpha has flaws). Clothes, hair, style, demeanor, personality, taste, car, home decorating, humor, etc. If it works for him, it will prolly work for you. Then prune his bad habits or combine those of other family Alphas, and, of course your own identity, which likely doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Yet, many people let jealousy get the better of them and tragically fail to learn from their betters.

Having a few alpha naturals as friends is invaluable to your personal growth as supreme poonslayer, esq. This goes double if those naturals are family members. Closely observing a natural in the wilds of the sexual market, learning his ways, appropriating his winning traits to conform to your style and personality…. all these choices are superior to the choice of feeling envy toward the natural.

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cheating-man-bustedThere comes a time in a man’s life (or a few hundred times) when the sum total of his gathered experiences with women and the wisdom he gained from them is called upon to help him out of a pinch. The pinch I refer to is when a woman accuses you of sneaking around on the side. There are only three things that drain the blood faster from a man’s face than the thought of erectile dysfunction:

  1. When your wife serves you divorce papers.
  2. When you catch your woman fooling around with another man.
  3. When your woman busts you for cheating.

The first two haven’t happened to me, but the last one has… multiple times. And from those trials by ovarian fire I have learned a few valuable lessons. I’m here to tell you what to do — or, more precisely, what *not* to do — when your girl jabs the infidelity finger of accusation in your face.

I’ll illustrate how NOT to handle a suspicious girlfriend with a fairly recent example from my own life (about two years ago). I was three months into a torrid fling with a pretty cable TV station producer whose sexual appetite rivaled the libidos of the horniest girls in the world — the Russians. She left streaks of black fingernail polish on my shower tiles, which I did not clean off for months as a tribute to her voracious vagina.

As with most sexual dynamos, she was a Class A attention whore. There are pics of her scattered all over the social media pooniverse of her (literally) dancing on bars and hipster supplicants licking her stockinged calves. She is now a grad student, still childless. One Friday evening, we were having ice cream and she asked me to join her later at a fashion show her friends were putting on. I said maybe and offered a go-to excuse about a friend coming to town, because little did TV producer girl know I hadn’t broken up with the serious girlfriend I had been dating for a year (the serious gf didn’t know about the fling) and I had made tentative plans to see her that night. The option to blow off my loving girlfriend was not available, as her and I were at a critical juncture where any more asshole behavior on my part (such as not seeing her on a Friday night) would’ve caused her to dump me to avoid further pain. I wished not for that gravy train to end.

Later that night, as I post-coitally lounged in my girlfriend’s bed, the TV producer texted me asking if I was coming to meet her. I didn’t respond. I wanted to see her, but the logistics were horrible. (Try escaping an intimacy-shrouded bed to see another woman without rousing suspicions. Not that easy while the oxytocin is flowing freely.) I was stuck.

The sexpot fling texted me the next day asking to meet her at a local bar later that night. Hoping for another brain frying bang, I happily met up with her. The curse of Admiral Akhbar was upon me. It was a trap. As soon as I sat down on the stool beside her, the conversation assumed an ominous tone:

HER: So why didn’t you come join me last night?

ME: Oh, I had some things come up. A buddy is leaving town and I wanted to see him before he left.

HER: What’s his name?

ME: [I hesitated for that critical split second when a girl can figure something is up] Um… Bobby.

HER: Where did you meet him?

ME: [X] street.

HER: I thought you told me your friend was coming to town?

ME: Um, oh yeah, well he was coming, but then leaving, so I wanted to catch up with him.

HER: [long pause, staring intensely into my eyes] Your story’s not consistent. What girl were you with last night?

Why did she suddenly sound like a goddamn lawyercunt?

ME: What?

HER: Why don’t you tell me who you were really with last night.

As suddenly as a tropical squall, her face hardened into a sheet of ice. The love had vanished. For some inexplicable reason, I decided a mid-course change in my story was acceptable. (It never is. Stick to your lie like it’s the 11th Commandment.)

ME: Look, I don’t like talking about this shit in my life, but my ex-girlfriend is going through a tough time and she needed me. [I was hoping to gain points for being compassionate. What a fool I was.] If I didn’t go see her, she might’ve freaked out.

HER: I don’t date cheaters. Or liars. I’m leaving town soon. It was nice knowing you.

Although I tried to smooth the waters, I did not get a bon voyage bang.

Some of you will be able to figure out where I went wrong. Pretty much everywhere. The above vignette is a textbook example of how to bungle the handling of a girl accusing you of cheating. I had violated my own rules for dealing with women.

  • I prevaricated, weakly.
  • I attempted a salvage operation.
  • I played right into her frame.
  • I confessed.

These four bullet points are everything you need to know about what NOT to do when accused by a girlfriend/wife/fling of spreading your man manna. You will want to do the exact opposite of what I did. Namely:

  • Don’t prevaricate.
  • Don’t backpedal or appease.
  • Reframe.
  • Deny deny deny!

Let’s illustrate how to properly handle the above scenario by changing the words I say.

HER: So why didn’t you come join me last night?

ME: I had some personal issues to take care or.

HER: What issues?

ME: It’s personal and nothing to do with you.

HER: Did you meet a girl?

ME: Would you like my bank account number while you’re at it, Inspector Clouseau?

HER: If you’re fucking around with someone else I want to know.

ME: No.

HER: Why don’t you tell me who you were really with last night.

ME: Heidi Klum and Scarlett Johansson. We fucked like rabbits. I had to kick them out. Clingy bitches.

HER: I don’t date cheaters. Or liars.

ME: I don’t date distrustful girls.

Now there’s no way to know if this would’ve resulted in the bang bus rolling on, but I believe the readers will agree that the odds of retaining the sexpot’s services would have been much higher had I handled it as in the second imagined scenario.

So, to recap:

When accused of cheating:

  1. Pause before answering.
  2. Speak directly. Don’t hem and haw.
  3. Look her in the eyes. Remember, every moment with a girl is a staring contest which you must win.
  4. Don’t appease. Appeasement is the great pussy desiccator.
  5. Don’t fall into her frame. Reframing is king!
  6. And, finally, deny like the sociopath you are. No matter how damning the evidence (she could walk in on you with your cock up to the hilt in strange pussy) if you keep a straight face and firmly deny everything she will rationalize a way to believe you. Yes, even the smart childless ones with multiple grad school degrees.

If you’re gonna play the man’s game, you had best know how to rig the rules in your favor.

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The Implied DHV: A Killer Line

A DHV, for the new recruits, means Demonstration of Higher Value. It’s shorthand for the observable fact that women are romantically intrigued by men who occupy higher social or lifestyle status than they do.

On that intro, reader ReedAndLEWIS writes,

Been using this line in person and online to great results after we have some rapport and she says something that could be considered as a joke

“ha let me get your number now before i lose interest”

The best courtship teasing has sharp edges. You want to walk right up to that line of obnoxious jerkboy entitlement, and sometimes cross it. Chicks dig the ZFG man.

I really like this line because it accomplishes two bedroom-redirecting goals: it’s got just the right amount of asshole-y self-regard and immunity to reflexive appeasement, and it implies a surfeit of snapper choice. Girls will wonder, “Who does he think he is that he could possibly lose interest in ME?!” Then their hamsters will squeak, “Maybe he’s used to having a full dance card”, and that will be the pussy power surge that sends them to bed feverishly dreaming about you.

Flip the seduction script. Most men are chasers of women. You are chased by women. And women love it.

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Piers Morgan (he’s had a “come to shitlord” moment) writes about Trump’s sway over the ladies. Read this, and you’ll wonder yourself if Trump was a founding proprietor of Le Chateau.

‘They say every powerful man is good in bed,’ I once asked Donald Trump. ‘That true?’

He smirked. ‘I think there is a certain truth to that, yes. Put it this way, I’ve never had any complaints. A lot of it is down to The Look. It doesn’t mean you have to look like Cary Grant, it means you have to have a certain way about you, a stature. I see successful guys who just don’t have The Look and they are never going to go out with great women.

‘The Look is very important. I don’t really like to talk about it because it sounds very conceited… but it matters.’

Count the number of statements Trump made which affirm core CH principles governing male-female relations.

  • Powerful men are generally good in bed. Why is male power and sexpertise correlated? Power imbues a man with self-confidence that opens bedroom possibilities to him, enticing him to be more demanding of the women he sweetly fucks, which in turn makes those women perceive him as more sexually skilled. Similarly, women will have stronger orgasms with a powerful man, regardless of the man’s objective sexual prowess, which alters their perception of the man’s skill.
  • “A lot of it is down to The Look.” Trump understands that facial expression and body language can communicate charismatic winner… or dull loser. Handsomeness is beneficial, but not required. A man who projects confidence with his posture, his piercing gaze, his unflappable ZFG demeanor, and his snapper-sundering smirk is more alluring to women than the prettyboy with the vacant stare.
  • “I see successful guys who just don’t have The Look and they are never going to go out with great women.” Trump, like CH, knows that money and business success are no guarantee of pussy abundance. Wealthy Silicon Valley nerdos lacking in any notable charm, like fat waifu-settling Mark Cuckersperg, are proof that wealth cannot compensate for a shit personality. Women are turned off by dull betas, even if a billion dollar portfolio is added to the equation. Sure, not a few golddiggers will fake their love to mooch the betabux moolah, but that is paid-for allure. Transaction “love” is no substitute for sincere validation love.

There is no doubt in my mind that Trump enjoys, and has enjoyed, the validation love of many beautiful women in his life. Strong evidence for my assertion comes from Trump’s ex-wives, who speak better of him than most men’s current wives speak of them.

ps article via minor Twatter celeb @DJTWMAR.

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Some men new to the Charisma Arts create unnecessary hurdles to jump in their minds. One example is the mistaken idea that teasing girls is a laborious “dancing monkey” ordeal that by dint of the effort required of a man must necessarily “put the pussy on a pedestal”.

Two flaws with this thinking: one, teasing is (or should be) fun for both parties, so it won’t feel like a chore. Once you get into a teaselord rhythm you’ll hardly want to stop (but you will need to stop, because too much teasing is just as counter-productive to bedding women as is too little teasing).

Two, teasing hardly requires mush more effort than breathing. A tight tease that lands pointedly on a girl’s pudenda is likely to be a majestic demonstration of pith. Novellas and mime acts are rarely the stuff of good teases.

A reader passes along a relevant text exchange:


There are times when vivid storytelling is the golden ticket to gash. But for most other times, chicks prefer laconic men.

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Game Recognized

What a public sight I saw recently. A fat (white) man — grossly obese like David Fatrelle after a pastry bender, arms like bloated Ganges corpses, manboobs jutting so forcefully into the air I thought they might spontaneously projectile lactate — was in the midst of a tiff with his (white) girlfriend.

His cute, slender, perfectly fuckable (white) girlfriend.

She was crying, her face contorted and flushed with emotional discharge. A lover’s argument kind of face. She was at his side, then walking ahead of him and turning to plead with him, then walking backward in front of him to keep pace with his uninterrupted stride, (or, in his case, shamble). Every so often she would reach out and grip his ham hock solicitously, to punctuate a question or coax a response.

He said nothing, mostly ignoring her except for the occasional exasperated frown. He barely acknowledged her, brushing off her touches and changing his peripatetic course so that she’d have to jog after him to keep him with earshot. His body language was as dismissive as his silence. This cute girl who’d have no trouble finding ten other non-obese men willing to fuck her and love her and dry her tears was chasing down a land manatee and begging for his tenderness.


His tits were bigger than hers.


Game recognized, fat man.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen similar scenes, but it was one of the more egregious examples of the awesome power of Game to overcome almost any male deficiency. How did I know he had Game? I knew indirectly, through his girlfriend’s reactions. But I also knew by the way he hauled his heft.

Fat as he was, underneath all that triple-chinned blubber I could discern the contours of a shitlord’s ZFG mug. His eyes, in permanent squint through larded lids, projected but one emotion: cocky self-confidence. He never wavered under the onslaught of her tears; there was no second act where her entreaties broke his situational command. He walked on, he smirked, he pushed her off, and he never appeased her implied demand for comforting reassurance. A fat man walking with a chiseled man’s self-regard. The alpha attitude was all over him, and when I saw that I understood how it came to be this thin, sexy girl was chasing after him, coiled in a tempest of dread that he might leave her and take the warm swaddle of his pendulous milktits with him.

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Girls, bless their holistic hearts, aren’t keen on detailing the reasons why this or that man is unsuitable as a lover. Instead of a sober assessment of a man’s characteristics, girls prefer to render their judgments in all-encompassing terms like “creep” or “weirdo” or “loser” or “nice guy”. Many subconscious mate value calculations operate in the female hindbrain that are consciously concatenated into swift and sure slanders of dismissal.

If a girl thinks you’re “creepy”, console yourself that her assessment doesn’t necessarily mean you are a creep. All it means is that you failed to exhibit those behaviors and traits that trigger her arousal instinct. But you should still take the smear as an opportunity to improve how you sell yourself to women. The alternative is meta-death.

With that in mind, here’s an illuminating study about the male tics and mannerisms that women think qualifies as “creepy”.

On the nature of creepiness

Surprisingly, until now there has never been an empirical study of “creepiness.” An international sample of 1341 individuals responded to an online survey. Males were perceived as being more likely to be creepy than females, and females were more likely to associate sexual threat with creepiness. Unusual nonverbal behavior and characteristics associated with unpredictability were also predictors of creepiness, as were some occupations and hobbies. The results are consistent with the hypothesis that being “creeped out” is an evolved adaptive emotional response to ambiguity about the presence of threat that enables us to maintain vigilance during times of uncertainty.

The limbic “creep” burp is a distant early warning to a girl that the seed under consideration shall not penetrate her eggs’ perimeter defense.

Salon (fag bastion alert) does a halfway-decent job itemizing the primary creep factors.

One of the paper’s hypotheses states unpredictability in a person is associated with higher levels of creepiness. Because we’re already initially uncomfortable with being unable to assess a person’s motives, we become hyper-aware of their behavior while trying to size them up.

This claim should be read with a critical eye. Ambiguity and unpredictability (i.e., being a challenge) are actually quite arousing to women, so the risk of setting off her creep alarm should be balanced against the reward of turning on her snapper sprinkler. My impression is that when a woman is curious about a man, there always lurks in the back of her mind the potential for her curiosity to lurch into anti-creep defense mode. To put it another way, every successful seduction is accompanied by an element of danger.

Other things found to sound our creep-alarms are behaviors such as standing too close to a person, frequent and persistent lip smacking or licking, odd dress and relentlessly directing a conversation to one topic.

Touching girls early on in a pickup is a crucial step to advancing toward the bedroom. But a light forearm touch is a different beast than posting up a foot inside a girl’s personal space. The initial kino should barely be perceptible; standing nose tip to nose tip is a little too “on the nose” for most women.

As for lip smacking and licking, don’t do it. Obvious. You ever see a man who does well with women licking his lips like Marco Rubio after the foam party antics have dried out to a crusty glaze?

Odd dress… just means don’t dress poorly or too skewed from the norms for your culture. Wearing a Bedouin sheet in Chicago will freak out a lot of people.

The last creep factor is the most important one: conversational stubbornness. Girls love freewheeling convos full of breezy associations and delectable tangents. We all know that nerdo or spergo who can’t let go of a point he’s trying to make over the happy din of a socially-gelling mixed group. If there’s one piece of advice I would give to men on how to avoid being the creep chicks despise, it’s LET GO. Didn’t get your point across? No prob. Ride the wave. Swing at another pitch. Take the detour in good humor and with a sense of adventure. The best womanizers I have known all shared this trait in common; they were pros at both leading conversations and going with the conversational flow. You can do this, too, but it will demand that you get out of your head and become more situationally aware. The field  of seduction is no place for shutting out external catalysts.

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