Archive for the ‘Game’ Category

There are a lot of great examples of Game in advertising, especially ads produced during the egalitarian, compression era of America. For instance there’s this ad, which reads like Don Draper wrote the copy:

Can you identify the Game techniques and concepts used in this ad?

“We pass up around 19 girls, before we get one that qualifies”: (literally) QUALIFICATION

“If looks were everything, it wouldn’t be so tough”: ACTIVE DISINTEREST

“Sure, we want her to be pretty”: IMPLICIT NEG

“But we don’t stop there. We talk. And we listen”: COMFORT, ATTAINABILITY

“We judge her personality,…”: FLIP THE SCRIPT

“So we try to eliminate these problems by taking a lot more time and passing up a lot more girls”: MALE ENTITLEMENT, CHOOSINESS

What are adds today? A weak mewling White beta who is the butt of jokes, a manjawed careerist White woman with mystery meatballs in tow, a wise confident dindu anointing the unwashed.

How far we have fallen as a culture.


I bet very VERY few women of the day bitched about this ad when it was released. I bet the ad’s “misogyny” (by current year standards) barely if at all registered in women’s consciousnesses. American women have had to be propagandized by a relentless assault of feminist nonsense to learn that what was once normal relations between the sexes is actually patriarchal oppression. And now we have American women begging for the love of third world rapefugees and retweeting campus rape hoaxes published to universal fanfare and used as the basis for man-hating government policy.

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The Recovery

On the fly reframing, that’s how it’s done. If you can see the flame-out coming, may as well go out with your dignity intact, the flamethrower scorching everything within the perimeter of engagement.

And who knows? This deport-a-slore might’ve been intrigued by his assholery, enough to take up his offer. Girls are known to succumb to the jerk’s charms.


FastEddie flashes his MAGA Game.

Can confirm. I have -Trump supporter. Gun and business owner. If you have “swipe left if you voted for Trump” on your profile, swipe left- all on my profile.

Had one recently message me saying she’s not sure we’d click because I’m obviously an ardent Trump supporter. I said- no problem. Appreciate the honesty. I just feel bad relegating you to all those male feminists and soy boys.

GREAT reframe. Shit test passed with pyrotechnic flair.

She laughed and said I just described her friends. I told her of course they’re her friends.

I figured you’d say that.”

Deep down, beanie wearing soys make her sick.

Now we’re off to the races. She flat out says, “If you want to fuck me, buy me a drink.” I said, “I know the best place in town,” then gave her my address.

Banged out. She’s 26. I’m 38.

Would share screenshots, but she unmatched me afterward (not interested in a relationship with someone that brainwashed.)

She sent me a screed with verbosity to shame Balzac after a couple days screaming, “YOU know why I date soy boys?!!!(she used the actual term) Because THEY won’t pretend to be interested in me, fuck me and throw me away!!!”

This is when you know you’ve banged out not only the girl, but her hamster as well. A double banging.

The whole thing was several paragraphs long. I responded- lol.

lol. Also, this is how everyone from the “intellectual dark web” should respond to chaimstream media requests.

Then she unmatched me, right when I was trying to go back in and screenshot.

There’s always next time.
Glad you’re all my brothers.

There’s a lot of good Game advice in FE’s story, but that profile line — If you have “swipe left if you voted for Trump” on your profile, swipe left — is killer. The best thing about it is that it can be ported easily to almost any profile or pickup scenario because it’s basically a nuclear disqualification that immediately puts the girl in the chaser/appeaser/approval seeker role. For instance,

“If you ask me to buy you a drink, swipe left” (this is really funny if you do it IRL and make a theatrical swiping motion with your hand as you’re telling her)

“If you ask me to put on a condom, swipe left”

“If you have a pussy hat, swipe all the way left”

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The first scribed instance of use of the coinage “rationalization hamster” at Le Chateau. A later definition:

The rationalization hamster is a descriptive term for the typical woman’s tendency to rationalize her decisions to fulfill herself sexually such that her personal culpability in making the sex happen is removed or reduced. Since that original definition, the rationalization hamster has come to acquire a broader meaning, encapsulating all the odd little mental tricks that women (and sometimes men) do in service to their glowing self-conceptions.

I bring this up because in my Pullkit I have many lines that excite women’s hamsters, and a spinning hamster is a slicking clamster. (Translating from the wordplay: a woman thinking a lot about the hidden meaning behind a man’s words is emotionally investing in him, which will persuade her to perceive the man as a high value mate prospect.)

Zee personal anecdote:

YER ‘UMBLE BED-RAKER: i like your kicks.


YER ‘UMBLE BED-RAKER: the unisex style is in right now.

THE LADY AND HER HAMSTER: *rictus grin* i’m preeeetty sure these aren’t unisex.

YER ‘UMBLE BED-RAKER: don’t run from it. look at me. *sweeps hands over self* everything i’m wearing is unisex.

THE LADY AND HER HAMSTER: haha, but no these are women’s shoes.

YER ‘UMBLE BED-RAKER: i figured you’d say that.


It’s that last line — “I figured you’d say that” — which has been killer for me on many occasions. It can be deployed in a multitude of milieus and in response to a plethora of parries (notably excepting two: when she calls out your self-disqualification bluff and when she rejects your advance outright), and it works the same ambiguity magic every time, stroking that hamster against the grain so hard it spins itself into a fluffy orgasm.

HER: buy me a drink first.

ME: i figured you’d say that.


HER: are you hitting on me?

ME: i figured you’d say that.


HER: what do you do?

ME: i figured you’d say that.


HER: well i’m a lawyer at ballcutter, llc

ME: i figured you’d say that.


HER: no i don’t have a waterbed.

ME: i figured you’d say that.

The point of the line, if used correctly, is to pave the way for a cold read. It gets the girl wondering, “what did he mean by that? what is it about me that seems predictable to him?”, and then you are off to the races if she so much as haltingly whispers, “how do you figure that?”. Curiosity drills the hamster.

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The Chick Bump

A reader reminded me of a classic female IOI (Indicator of Interest): the Chick Bump. (don’t get excited Captain Obvious, not that kind of bump)

If a girl keeps “accidentally” bumping into you while you walk together, she’s incipiently aroused.

“Accidental” physical contact NEVER happens if the girl isn’t into the man. In fact, girls are hard-wired to go out of their way to avoid even the briefest brushes of physical contact with a beta male. Prime Lubricity girls are very careful to avoid giving lsmv men the wrong idea. Girls would much rather low value men keep their distance than have to fend off their clumsy advances. Accidental elbow touching could excite a blue balled incel to a rash solicitation.

Therefore, if the girl in your company bumps into you more than once, assume she wants your D. Pass Ho, collect 200 tingles. This is the female version of kino escalation, and it means you are cleared for philandering.

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From commenter Cultural Resilience,

O/T from Managing hysterically Jealous Girl to see if I’m still stuck in mod
I’ve just played this tactic and it worked a fucking treat. I got the sense that the current long term gf has stopped giving of her best. I know that she has checked my phone before so I changed the lock code to one that she would find easy to break. I’ve been having flirty online text exchanges with a foreign girl and started closing my phone of quickly when ever she came near. Sure enough I come home one day and I immediately recognise the atmosphere.

“Something wrong?” “No!” (In that no means yes tone that only a hurting woman can use). “Ok then” I reply, while thinking I bet she doesn’t last five minutes. Sure enough before my post work drink glass frosting has even begun turning to water droplets. “I’ve found those messages on your phone” which, by the way include hot nude pics. “Knew you would” says I. “I feel like its a betrayal” “I knew it would make you feel like that but it didn’t stop me” “Doesn’t is bother your conscience?” “A hard dick doesn’t have a conscience”

A few sulky days laced with occasional comments about wether or not we have a future, tears and of course picture with no sound. (Its cute how they think that a few days free from continual vocalisation of every empty female thought is a punishment.)

Bam! Hot make up sex, and texts confessing undying love and her desire to make everything right with me. This shit just cannot fail. Its a kill or cure strategy, but it is certain to end in cure if properly executed.

Dread Game is like two Quimfinity Gauntlets of Pussy. Two snaps, and all the snapper promptly dissolves into a frantic bawling mess of lovesick conciliation and devotion.

It’s so powerful it has sex-independent properties; it can work on (beta) males as well, although not as powerfully as it works on women and rarely does it work on alpha males with options (it does work particularly well on hot babes with options because they have no defense against it given that they rarely experience it).

The catch is that you need a shiny set of brass ones to pull it off with genuine feeling. You have to be willing to risk total relationship implosion and be ready to walk, no looking back. Many weak-willed betas don’t have the stones for Dread Game, so they get played relentlessly until their half-committed girls tire of their supplications and execute a mercy dumping. (Many girls get so disgusted with the cajoling, cloying behavior of their beta borefriends that they will throw away a reliable source of resources and sounding board feelz just to get away from their betas’ icky kisses and gimp seed.)

If the girl senses you’re bluffing, she’ll double down and turn cold as ice as she calmly explains why “this isn’t working out”. If you’re unprepared for this, you’ll cave like a Florida sinkhole and beg for forgiveness and a second chance. If you were prepared to end it right there and then, you’ll say “Ok” and watch as everything changes between you and her. Where she had been holding all the cards and leveraging her sex and love withdrawal, suddenly you’re sitting in the cadbird seat and she’s hysterically trying to smooth things over so you’ll stay with her.

It’s a brutal psy ops, but no one said the sexual market was a soft pillow landing of genteel trade and barter. The sexes have competing reproductive goals, and though fraternization is the point the battlefield clashes to reach the victor’s tent are winner take all.

It’s not as insurmountable as it sounds if you don’t regularly swing a heavy sack in all your interactions with women. If your girl has “stopped giving of her best”, you have to tell yourself that she’s already one lab flap out the door. She’s gonna leave you in time if you do nothing, so you may as well take a chance on Dread Game. Either she leaves now (rather than in the near future), and you get a few extra months of character building field experience chewing into fresh meat, or she capitulates and returns to giving you her best.

Dread Game is win-win for any man who has the least bit of confidence in his ability to pick up a new chick. But if you’re a quisling beta accustomed to licking the glitter sneakers of your girl hoping your abject uxoriousness will keep her loveless attendance tethered by a frayed string to your life of endless anxiety, then Dread Game is a grenade you’re holding after you’ve thrown the pin into her trench. You won’t be able to handle it hot, she’ll know it, and the damned ploy will blow up in your face because deep down you’re afraid to risk losing her to be alone, sexless and unloved, straitjacketed by your fear of meeting new girls to find a replacement.

I want to add that Dread Game is so powerful it can resuscitate relationships which by cosmic law should die and stay dead. Exploit it wisely. It’s a great relationship management tool for corralling and bringing back under your tonically masculine auspice a wayward girlfriend or permanent girlfriend; but it’s a devil’s bargain if you use it to keep a determined, manipulative whore in line. Accept that if the girl isn’t right for you, Dread Game offers tremendously satisfying short term rewards at the cost of long term frustration and cancerous resentment. If the mutual love is poisoned or missing, you’ll have to administer a constant PIV drip of Dread Game to keep what is essentially a zombie barge afloat. Some men have enough ice in the veins (and fire in the main vein) to happily sign on for such a commitment. But most don’t. Dread Game administration for the duration will eventually heighten the loveless disconnect until it explodes with a fury or deflates to a perfunctory, impassive goodbye long past its due date. And by then you may wonder why you didn’t just cut the cancercunt out sooner so you could spare the time saved for other women who would be a better fit for you.

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This is a pretty good pickup field report from archerwfisher demonstrating the awesome power of preselection, cockiness, and outcome independence to deliver poon into a man’s lap.

Off topic but MAN had another example today that the Heartiste gospel is true. Short version–pre approval and a little game work a TON.

Long version–met a somewhat crazy, fairly slutty girl on tinder. Didn’t want to date. (I’m more on the Christian side so didn’t bang when I could have.) She loves to randomly hang out even though she’s decided I’m 100% a friend. Today she randomly wanted to meet at a bar. I get there and she’s happy drunk with a happy drunk friend. She introduces me, I’m snapchatting another girl (crazy girl asks what I’m doing, I honestly say I’m snapping my ex, so I’m pre approved by crazy girl and my ex) and I’m partially chatting with crazy girl and her drunk friend.

We go outside, they’re talking about hookups and I’m making dry comments and a few jokes and half paying attention, didn’t flirt with or hit on either. We all sit in crazy girl’s SUV with ac on for a few minutes. Someone calls crazy girl, drunk friend starts making orgasm noises, I join in “yeah you like that baby” and crazy girls takes the call. Drunk girl tells me about breaking up with her fiance, I go, “I completely understand, crazy people are hard to deal with” and point at crazy girl. Drunk friend almost dies laughing going “that’s so awful! take that back!” To which I say “tell me it’s not true!” Aaand five minutes later drunk friend is asking if I have a dick pic I can show her, I do, and her reply is “Hmm, I can do something with that” and she asks me to come over to her place.

Gospel proven–be pre approved, don’t be an eager beaver, and have some humor.

I can already hear the mewling chorus of naysayers. “Ah but she was drunk, CH, that lay was practically a gimme!”

Really? How often do betaboys go home to their faphovels because a bar full of drunk girls ignored them for more charismatic men? I’d say if betas rely on girls being drunk to get laid they are setting themselves up for disappointment. Even through the haze of alcohol, girls can tell which men are the cool alphas. Drunkenness might lower her inhibitions, but it won’t reliably widen her net.

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You don’t need to be perfect with women, you only need to make poon split. Commenter K Young shares the positive romantic outcomes he’s had from learning and practicing Game well enough to elicit desirous reactions from women and ultimately, to improve the quantity and quality of his dating life.

CH: “With experience and the right attitude, the quips become second nature

Yes! Im proof. Or at least proof that your brand of game can change with practice and disregard while morphing. I hope the following is helpful for someone!

When I was 20, I usually got the girl I wanted, but I was raised by single mom and steeped in morrissey and depeche mode. But also outgoing, voted funniest male in a large high school etc. It was charming and self effacing. Effective but with a side of beta.

Now Im 45. Ive been on testosterone replacement, and lifting weights heavy for 10 years. I have this dominant daddy look almost. Very different on the outside. So I essentially *had* to change. Women dont want me to be self deprecating; It was weird for me, but Ive come to accept that they crave cocky!

So I say things now that I would have considered extreme douchey in the past. Examples I can think of from this week:

(Crucial: delivery is dry and immediate)

From a young HB8 coworker, regarding another coworker who recently quit:
Her: “I think you were her favorite”
Me: “Im everyones favorite”
Her: stunned deep laughter

HB7 barista at coffee shop…
Her: “I cant believe I remembered your name.”
Me: “Its because Im so special.”
Her: near gasp, taken aback, smile, red face, intense eye contact

They just work. File under females-are-like-children. Its audacity and “[Poon Commandment] XI.  Be irrationally self-confident”. If this isnt your style, try for yourself! Enjoy!

The truth is that this style — call it cocky jerkboy — is almost universally applicable and attractive to women of all ages and stations, and there isn’t a man alive who wouldn’t benefit from being more like this and less like every other boring beta.

Genetic constraints matter, but that doesn’t mean practice has no utility. Practice at anything will improve one’s skill with that thing, and this goes as well for Game as it does for playing the violin or throwing a ball. The typical beta male may not reach the heights of charisma that “naturals” seem to intrinsically possess, but he can learn and practice the crimson arts and become a better, sometimes a much better, man than he was before he set his mind to the task.

The men who swear up and down this is impossible are usually the men who daren’t try. Fear of success is as strong in the human condition as is fear of failure, because success, unlike failure, sweeps away the refuge of excuses and rationalizations weak men flee to for comfort.

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