Your Daily Game: Stoking The Female Competitive Instinct For Personal Gain

Camel Cock comments,

*** Submission for comment of the week ***

Good show, kid, but ya came up short. This week’s COTW has already been awarded (details soon). Dry your eyes, though, because you submitted excellent Game-related content.

If you are half-way good with girls and live in a smaller city you will eventually run into the same ones especially when you are out on dates. Some girls will wave, some will come up to you and your date and say Hi, and the trully daring will even come up and give you a hug.

The girls (on your date rotation) who hug you when you’re out on another date are the ones who want to fuck you, but only if they can feel like they’re besting another girl to get to your pole position. Prepare for a lifetime of Dread Game if you decide to LTR one of those bitches.

Almost every girl I’ve gone out with has asked “Who was that?” or “Who is that?” The hotter the girl, the quicker my date asks about her.

Of course. This is classic female preselection. Girls judge men by the number and quality of women who keep his company. This is because girls can’t get most of the mate value information they need about a man just by looking at him, so they use a short cut: if other girls like him, he must be hsmv.

Before I used to be vague and say “a friend” “drinking buddy” or “just some girl” but I’ve been inspired by CH’s recent tingle generation talk and a few weeks ago when I was feeling especially zfg I responded, “Your competition.”

Noice.

I’ve tested this on a few girls and it’s tingle dynamite! It’s mostly in the delivery. When they ask about the other girl. I turn my head slowly, I look them in the eye and with a jerkboy smirk I say “Your competition.”

I believe the reason it’s so great is bc your dating asking you about the other girls is a shit test and most guys justify or play down the other girl…not what a true jerkyboy does.

There is a way to provoke the same effect in your girl without explicitly revealing your game plan. In fact, I’d argue that feigned dismissiveness can be a more powerful intoxicant on the female hamster than can pulling back the curtain and announcing her place in the pecking order. For instance,

HER: who was that?

WILLY WOMP-A AND THE TINGLE FACTORY: just someone i know.

Leave it hanging right there, and she’ll be spinning her wheel for days wondering what your deal is (aka whether you have a harem), which means she will only find satisfying resolution in sex.

But there is a class of girls for whom a stone cold stunner like “Your competition” will work wonders. These are the kinds of girls who need bold, unmistakable displays of drama to begin lubing up for Act 2.

Oh and if u get shit tested, your delivery or eye contact was off. Most of the times I’ve said it girls get those anime eyes and their jaw drops. They can’t believe u just dropped such a massive tingle bomb. Some trash talk and qualify themselves and try to justify why they are better.

A girl in the defensive crouch is a girl with a torrential pouch.

One caveat, make sure the girl saying hi is slightly more attractive or at least on par with date girl.

True dat. If a fatty comes over to say hi, acting like she’s one of your plates, heisman that hambeast with the quickness.

HER: who was that?

THE WOOD OF WOMP: one of my obsessive admirers. poor girl. so sad.

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Cock And Awe

Recall a time when you noticed something you needed from across a room, and then, focused on the object or person, you beelined with urgent purpose toward your target when, upon approach, you also noticed that an attractive woman happened to be situated near the thing you were walking quickly toward, and that her face lit up and her eyes widened into a sudden spasm of delight, arousal, and a little fear as you neared her and you realized she probably thought you were moving in her direction to hit on her (you weren’t, but she didn’t know that…all she had to go on was your purposeful stride to where she was sitting/standing).

Unless you have never left your vidjafapatorium, you will have seen something like this in your life. Take the lesson to heart. Chicks dig the bold approach, no matter the discrepancy between her SMV and your SMV. The positive, tingle-betraying reaction of women to a man’s unintentional bold approach is proof that an intentional bold approach — see your mark, move in on your mark, do not deviate from your mission — will have the same effect. Call it Cock and Awe; home in like a pleat-seeking missile and drive through crowds, splitting them like an icebreaker, and drop your ordnance right between her fore- and hindbrains.

Girls love powerful men, and very few actions in this world communicate raw masculine power quite as unmistakably as giving less than zero fucks and blasting through the fog of humdrum daily life to impose yourself on a girl and make her feel like a vulnerable, sexy minx again.

FYI, the above scenario reveals one way to get over approach anxiety. Instead of approaching girls, tell yourself instead you’re approaching someone or something next to the girl to chat up that other person/check out that intriguing thing. Then, when you’re right next to the girl, you suddenly “notice” her and “decide” to talk to her because she looked like she needed the company.

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The Damsel In Distress Beta Bait

A crying, whimpering, or otherwise despondent female whose body isn’t encased in layers of blubber is an irresistible opportunity for white knighties and betaboys to prove they are the ones to ride to her rescue. The beta male lives for those moments he gets a chance to comfort a distressed or depressed girl, because the beta male is under the grossly self-defeating impression that comforting words and a shoulder to cry on are the stuff of pussy tingles.

See, men project their experiences with distress onto women. When men are distressed, it isn’t (usually) an act. Life in general is tougher for men (in the parlance of Cunt Wave Feminism, men shoulder a greater burden of “emotional labor”). So distressed men will sincerely welcome a helping hand or a word of encouragement, and will especially appreciate those things coming from a pretty girl. Oftentimes, distressed betas fall instantly in love with a girl who gives them the tiniest morsel of sympathy.

But it doesn’t work this way for women. First, women get distressed all the time, and mostly for ridiculous reasons. It’s very rare that a hottie will be depressed for legitimate reasons; more likely is that she is just venting a toxic build-up of emotions that have accumulated from her roller coaster relationship with a jerkboy, and the act of venting and brooding is itself very pleasurable for her. So pretty girls won’t truly welcome sympathy from men except as a springboard for the girls to play up the damsel in distress angle to extract bennies from betas.

Second, women are sexually put off by men who come on strong with the Sympathy Game, reasoning (rightly) that these men are chicken shits who are trying to weasel their way into women’s panties by role-playing as asexual therapists.

If you see a pretty girl who looks depressed to you, #resist the urge to comfort her. Instead, be the jerk chicks dig and tell her crying’s not allowed unless her dog or her mother died. Then offer her a hanky embroidered with a photo of your smirking face.

***

Apropos of the theme of this post, a relevant text exchange between Peter Strzok (beta) and Lisa Page (ugly strivercunt):

LISA PAGE*: “[Trump’s] not ever going to become president, right? Right?!”

PETER STRZOK**: “No. No he won’t. We’ll stop it.”

First, thanks for tipping off everyone in America to your coup de tat against Trump! Very informative. Second, Peter, you dumb pencil-necked herbling, an aggrocunt tankgrrl like Page doesn’t want your captain save a ho act. It turns her off to know she has you wrapped around her manfingers. Petey, you were never on top, were you? How often was she behind you, enacting the male role with a strap-on?

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Your Daily Game: The Limp Digits

Groyper Jones has a topical Game question,

I’m almost finished with my first 100 approaches. I keep getting girls who say they have a boyfriend, but still give me their number to just be friends.

I don’t know what to make of this. Are they just being polite, or should I keep pushing?

This is one of those sexual market rituals that has changed over time. It used to be that girls wouldn’t give their numbers out to men for whom the girls had no romantic feelings. Or they would give out a fake number. It was just too messy to give real numbers to betas who might stalk them or latch onto their orbit like an incel asteroid. Rarely, a man would cross paths with a sociopath who relished accumulating a soyem (male harem) of beta orbiters, and who would give her phone number to almost any man who asked. We call those girls attention whores, and their numbers are increasing exponentially.

But this has changed in recent years. Girls will now freely give their digits on the pretense of asexual friendship. I’ve noticed it, and others who are newer to the dating scene have noticed as well. Instead of the friendzone, I call this the friendphone. Are girls simply more naive than they used to be, or are they more sociopathic? Both possibilities are on the table.

To answer your two questions, no and yes.

The girls aren’t being polite. If all they were doing was being polite, they would say they have a BF, and leave it at that. This is how it’s traditionally been done for thousands of thot-years. So what’s changed?

The nature of men, for one. There are a lot more beta male simps than there used to be, owing to a culture that has elevated emasculation to an art form and to the bulk of men’s formative years being spent in faptivity with porn and vidja.

The nature of women, for two. There are a lot more manjaws and strident skanklib cunts than there used to be, owing to a culture that has denigrated femininity and to the bulk of women’s formative years being spent overweight, socially disconnected, and aridly flattered online by thirsty betas.

The nature of nature, for three. Our waters are polluted with endocrine disruptors like the Pill.

The nature of our culture, for four. Antisocial media has deprived men and women of the relational social skills they need to court each other. Game may as well be Mandarin to the typical Ameriherb. Additionally, slut glorification has stripped the stigma from women who cock hop.

The nature of the sexual market, for five. There is a horrible sex skew between the numbers of available men vying for the love of a shrinking pool of slender, single babes. This reality breeds attention seeking thots, cock carouseling, grinding incel, and regretful Wall-approaching spinsters.

Given the above changes I’ve listed, the likeliest explanation for the emergence of the friendphone is a combination of fearlessness and aggro hypergamy. Girls are much less fearful of the beta males who swarm around them and of the potential danger to reputation those betas would have posed back in a more patriarchal time; this incentivizes attention whoring. It’s no risk anymore for a girl to cavalierly accumulate a horde of sexless simps to diddle her idclit whenever she needs it.

The aggro, open hypergamy is the result of too many men competing for too few women. (Worse, competing for too few women who aren’t economically self-sufficient and could use the LTR boost of a beta provider.) The plain jane can now juggle a few admirers (only one of which will have access to her vanilla vagina) without incurring reputational loss or threat of abandonment. The orbiter and sexless male friends will cling to her for months, and years, enduring the cruelty of sniffing, but never touching, proximate vaj. They will patiently wait wait wait for their oneitis to “tire” of her jerkboy lover. They will never leave this waiting room. It is a portal to hell for them.

The hypergamous girl is fishing, always looking to reel in that monster bass. The more leeway she has to continually dangle her bait, the longer she’ll keep it in the water testing for nibbles. That’s what these friendphone girls are doing; dangling, recasting, dangling, and then reeling in whichever man is more alluring to her than the beta orbiters and Fake BFs she currently has in her rotation.

The conclusion I’m arriving at is this, Mr. Jones: If you are getting girls’ real numbers with the IHAB rider attached, the girls are equally interested in you AND attention whoring to enlarge their soyems. Continue gaming them as if they were undeclared property, and be careful to avoid beta orbiter traps that would unseal the deal.

Keep pushing. Every girl now has a male in her company that she can call a “boyfriend”, though he may be nothing of the sort as conventionally understood. It may be a male she *wishes* were her bf, or it may be a recruited flatterer she labels a bf in a pinch when social expectation calls for it.

If she gives her number, a part of her is thinking about exploring intimacy with you. It may be a small part, but all you need is a foot in the whore. If you follow up on one of these sweet numbers, and she mentions the bf again, consult the Chateau archives for numerous anti-bf quips that will easily surmount this most common of shit tests.

CH Maxim #99: Keep pushing for sex, until she stops allowing you to push.

You’ll know when she thwarts your advances for real, and when she’s putting up token resistance. Knowing the difference comes with sexperience.

One trick that works wonders on the modren wahman is to call her bluff. Reply to her objections, “hey, don’t get the wrong idea. I just called because you were looking for a friend.” Then, be friendly. Don’t act resentful or butthurt. Open yourself to her terms of engagement, hiding your ulterior motive until it’s too late for her to #resist. Hang with her, but keep pushing and working the magic, devoting each minute you and her are together to your ultimate goal. This is the sneaky fucker strategy, minus the angry ape boyfriend who comes back to reclaim his turf, because she won’t really have a boyfriend, and if she does it won’t be a boyfriend she respects enough to stay faithful to, which means he won’t be a man you need fear.

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Flipping The Disgust Script

Politically, girls may vote as if they have very high disgust thresholds (high tolerance for disgusting things) when they prance around shrieking about welcoming rapefugees and opening the borders to the swarth hordes, but romantically, girls possess a sophisticated, honed, expansive and discriminating disgust radar. Which makes sense on a biomechanical level. Each egg is precious and if girls didn’t have a quick trigger disgust reflex then there’d be a greater likelihood of mangled omega seed polluting their wombs.

So girls use hypergamous slurs like “gross”, “ew”, and “creepy” a lot to express a subconscious Darwinian revulsion for the bottom 80% of men.

Good news, Christian men! You can co-opt and commandeer this girlie trait — by flipping the disgust script — and make yourselves more intriguing to girls. The art and science of seduction is largely a cooption by men of the courtship wiles and guiles of women. To seduce women, one must think like a woman, which means in practice redirecting the mate filtering power of women’s coyness against them.

Women can resist many forms of entreaty but they can’t resist their narcissism reflected back at them.

“to save the ho we had to seduce the ho.”

Tactically, flipping the disgust script means liberally expressing your visceral displeasure with a girl’s antics, opinions, or choice of footwear.

The key here, as usual in the domain of pickup, is delivery. You want to avoid angry remonstration for a playfully suave application of concept. You aren’t *really* disgusted by the way she holds a dripping wet cocktail napkin to her face, so don’t retch and vomit in front of her. There is such a thing as overgaming.

You want that smirk and playfulness always bubbling right at the surface of your silver tongue. The name of the game is ambiguity. Maybe you are disgusted by something about her, maybe not and you’re just taking the piss with her. She can’t tell, and that’s exactly where you want her: in the realm of uncertainty aka vaginal glee.

My personal toolkit includes crowd pleasing favorites like

“you’re coming on way too hard. creepy!”

“say it don’t spray it”

*silently and theatrically mouth the exclamation “wow”*

“is that lip gloss or vaseline? ew”

“oh god another girl staring at my crotch. ugh so gross”

“did you just wink at me? i’m calling the MeToo police”

You get the idea. Expressing disgust for a girl’s behavior etc is a form of self-disqualification (that is, you’re disqualifying yourself as a potential suitor) which itself is an hsmv mate value cue of male desirability (that is, you have so many women to choose from you can afford to blow off any one woman on the flimsiest of feigned pretexts, such as the gaudiness of her neon colored nail polish).

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Al Bundy Game

How to talk to girls pic.twitter.com/BBtT2LqT81

— Duke Nukem Groyper (@DukeGroyper) May 31, 2018

“Hey, hey, eyes up here.”

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President Trump’s Amused Mastery

From a Gabber:

Decent people view an apology as a positive gesture and usually reciprocate with the same level of generosity and good faith.

Leftists however view any apology as (1) an admission of Guilt and (2) a sign of Weakness that needs to be exploited.

Never apologize to Leftists.

This is one of the big reasons Donald Trump drives the Left into such a frothing rage. He never apologizes, never admits guilt and appears to have no sense of shame whatsoever — and he keeps getting away with it no matter how loudly they scream and stomp their feet. Their entire schtick revolves around shame and guilt: when the Commander in Chief refuses to go along with their show trial, it shows just how impotent they really are.

In Game terminology, what Trump displays is the attitude known as Amused Mastery. It’s the demeanor of a man who brushes away impertinence from his lessers, shit tests from women, and screeching indignation from the media. He answers shaming tactics with shamelessness, phony opprobrium with ridicule, and smarmy moralism with Chad-crafted nicknames.

What he doesn’t do is get defensive, apologize, or supplicate to his would-be inquisitors to gain their favor (or a brief reprieve from their hate). Trump’s attitude is all alpha, with the tiniest of beta morsels occasionally thrown in to utterly disorient his detractors and, more crucially, to peel away more fence-sitters to his side, the kind of disengaged normies who can’t understand why the media is crying hitlerwolf for the millionth time because Ivanka posted a touching photo of herself cuddling with her little boy.

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