Reader Submitted Game Vagnette

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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Practice Makes Poon Split

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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The Crone Police

The form and the function. Women abide the form, men abide the function. MagyarFaszALegjobbFasz (i’m as puzzled as the rest of you) has a great comment implicitly tying together the female predilection to act as Tone Police with the overrun of Western societies by Dirt World Dreck.

This is classic feminine TONE POLICE. Ask any married man, he’s heard this shit a thousand times. In her moral calculus that the white knight’s tone is actually worse than the Slav drunkard’s behavior.

“I agree with you but I don’t like the way you said it.”

This comes pre-installed in every women — the question is how high is the dial set to?

1-3 = girl next door
4-6 = bitch next door
7-10 = feminazi shrike

The feminine is all about the form, and has no respect for function. This is why most masculine men find women boring, trite and superficial. It’s why women love credentialism. All surface, no depth.

The mistake the British white knight made is that he paid any attention to her and treated her like an equal/adult and/or expected her to support him.

Never expect courage from the feminine. It happens, but it is rare. Remember, men move to danger, women move away from it. (That is exactly what happened in the clip too.)

She’s a child. She should keep her mouth shut and not interrupt adults. He should have signaled that.

I am sure heartiste et al have strategies to deal with tone police shit testing. Now would be a good time to share them given the obliviousness of the commenters on this post.

The Tone Police, or rather the Crone Police because schoolmarmish tut tutting has the effect of prematurely aging women and robbing them of their tender femininity, is a real problem in the West. Our Western White women are, among the world’s races of women, most severely afflicted by the urge to scold nonconformists to the reigning shitlib orthodoxy. (NonWestern women learn real quick what happens to them when they betray their men for the favors of invaders and effete UN monitors.)

It is inarguable that in general women are the sex more risk-averse, socially conforming, and superficially wedded to universalist norms of behavior. Men concerned with the wholesale abandonment of their homelands to invader ingrates for the pennywise pound-foolish siren call of cheap labor, moral preening, and real estate churn need to have strategies and tactics at the ready to disarm their hovering Crone Police.

As with pickup and Game tactics, the best defense is a good offense. Shit testing Crone Police should be answered similarly to how shit testing bar thots are answered:

1. Agree & Amplify (“I’M SO SORRY, I want our country to turn into a Third World heaven just as much as you do.”)
2. State Control (“Thanks. I’ve been working hard to improve my racism.”)
3. Dismissiveness (“lol you’re gay”)
4. Shock & Awe (“Shut up, cunt”)
5. Id Vivisection (“If you want to fuck him, just ask.”)
6. Amused Mastery (“I’m glad you like it”)
7. The Asshole Counterattack (“Was I talking to you?”)
8. Assume the Sale (“This isn’t the time for flirting with me.”)
9. The Aggro Asshole Counterattack (“Your ugly face offends me.”)
10. Amused Mastery 2 (“That’s Mr. Racist to you”)
11. Assume the Sale 2 (“Sorry, I’m not your type”)
12. The Disregarding Brush-Off (“yup” or “see ya”)

The take-home lesson is that you’ll always be on the winning side as long as you aren’t flustered or defensive. Be vigilant and prepared for the Crone Police, and you’ll never let yourself, nor your country, down.

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Charisma Doesn’t Have To Be A Foreign Language

WS has a complaint I hear often from a certain demographic of men: he believes it’s unrealistic to expect a man under duress to have charming quips at his disposal.

Her: you’re friendzoned!

Him: I love a girl who plays hard to get.

Him: YESSSSSS! I’m single again! FREEDOM BABY!

Him: Yeah, we’re just friends…with benefits lzzlolzlol!

It’d be great if life was like an 80’s action movie where you could just fire off one-liners that utterly defeated your opponents but, realistically, the guy probably handled it the only way he possibly could have without burning his life to the ground.

This pessimism betrays a lack of experience hanging out with male friends who do well with women, or who are generally favored guests at any party. I know many men who are adept at firing off those tingle-inducing one liners under pressure. With experience and the right attitude, the quips become second nature.

Experience: women don’t tongue-tie you. They aren’t mysteriously opaque creatures you have to wrack your brain to figure out what language they speak. You have bedded them before; you are confident you will bed them again. You know girls enjoy getting teased, and over time you’ve learned how to tease for maximum quimpact.

The Right Attitude: You have outcome independence, an abundance mentality, a self-assured entitlement complex that permits a charming familiarity and ease of communication with women you’ve just met. Your interactions are lucid, compact, comfortable, and friendly. You don’t strain for words because deep in the pit of your gut you don’t feel a need to impress any one particular woman; if this chick isn’t charmed, the next one will be. Teasing one-liners are your go-to bantz formula because you are more interested in not boring yourself than you are in not boring the girl you’re chatting up.

A buddy I occasionally hang out with is a master of quips. When we’re shooting stick, he’ll pause mid-strike to accost a passing cutie with a jerkboy mofo one-liner. He rarely regurgitates one liners verbatim because his humor is all contextual and situational. (His one liners do share a common theme, comedic element, timing, and tone, though.) Neither does he bother with “deep thoughts” or monologues; the man is a wrecking ball of pussy-parting pith. The girls lap it up like hungry kitties starved for cocky asshole affection.

One time I met his dad, and discovered he had the same facility with teasing quips as jerkboy jr. This confirmed for me something I’ve always assumed based on personal observation: those men who have mastery of in-the-moment quips that beta males insist are the stuff of scripted TV sitcoms are in fact very real and move among us. And some of them learn their craft at dad’s side, watching him charm the ladies and soaking up the lessons. This is another reason why fatherlessness sucks; it deprives many developing young men of mentorship in the ways of charismatic seduction.

What I’m saying is that these quips and the skill to use them in high pressure situations are often a generational artifact: granddad to dad to son (the inheritance continuity possibly broken by the phaggiest generation ever — the millennials) passing on the same or similar one liners they used on grandma, mom, and today’s tatted monstrosities. Quips — and male charisma in general — are cultural memes: the original meme machine before /pol/ exploited the executable and weaponized transmission of tingle-gushing cadquips into soul-killing cogdis weapons against the Shitlib Left.

Dads are only one source of charisma transmission. Many “naturals” learned the art of the quip by having as friends coolasfuck dudes who had the gift of gab. Men also learn by watching unfamiliar men successfully flirt with cute girls, and by observing the girls’ reactions to the torrent of monosyllabic teasing. Unwittingly, these beguiled girls show bystanding men the jizzropes.

The point of saying all this is that you don’t have to be that hapless beta pastry on that TV game show, flustered, despondent, and butthurt by your oneitis’s cold shank, reduced by the cruelty of her surprise attack to muttering lamely and garnishing your emotional pain for the viewing audience to feast upon. You CAN learn charisma, and the art of the quip, and learn it well enough to make it a regular and spontaneously summoned feature of your SMV-projecting conversational habits.

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How To Recover From A Brutally Public Friendzoning

Some women, either through malice or naivete, have the worst timing and execution when dropping the LJBF bomb on their longtime beta male orbiters. Like this ballcutter:

Oh no. This man was just put in the friend zone on national television. pic.twitter.com/dtbHj3P9fN

— Barstool Sports (@barstoolsports) April 27, 2018

An experienced man would never find himself in this situation, but most men aren’t experienced with women, so they are easily victimized by emotional and resource objectifying women who use them for attention and gibs without having to provide sexual release in return.

Some say the video is staged; I don’t think so.  Both of their reactions seem spontaneous and authentic to their sex (the female recklessly indulges cruelty and the male is surprised his ardor isn’t reciprocated). We’ll proceed as if the clip is the real deal.

Right after she cackles murderously and chirps “we’re friends!”, you can see the moment that her poison-tipped shiv strikes beta ventricle (around 0:07). It looks like this:

At 0:16 our soulkilled beta tries the “It’s complicated” line (maybe he read about its usefulness at a PUA blog?), but it falls flat because the context was all wrong (it can’t be used effectively after one is freshly castrated) and the girl nonetheless yammers incessantly over the top of his voice, “I’m single. I’m single guys. I’m single”.

She had to remind the pool of alpha males in the studio audience THREE TIMES that she’s single. This wrecked herbling went SIX MONTHS thinking he and her were an item. You see, it’s all fun and games for the beta orbiter-exploiting cutie until the day comes her obedient pet gets uppity and publicly airs his romantic assumptions. Whoa, big fella! she thinks, curb your enthusiasm! And that’s her cue to publicly shear the last wispy locks of his manhood.

Those eggs won’t tolerate the slightest incursions by beta orbiter seed. Impudence like that must be snuffed in the crib, before a REALLY awkward scene erupts and he cockblocks a jerkboy she wants to meet.

At 0:19, our defenestrated beta can’t sustain the grinning rictus concealing his shredded dignity any longer and the already transparent mask slips completely off. “What?!”, he yelps, anguished.

Maybe she finally notices the hurt on his face, because she jumps in to console him…by reminding everyone again “oh no no, we’re really good friends”, as if saying it the tenth time will somehow make the castrati oil go down easier. After all, what man wouldn’t love her for a friend? She’s teh awesome (vagina not included)! And then to punctuate her compassion, please note at 0:22 the little shove she gives to his shoulders, pushing his incompetent seed away from her golden eggs.

He looks back at her forlornly, and all she can do is break into tension-relieving laughter. What’s so funny? Well, his humiliation for one. The audience’s groan, for another. But mostly a girl will laugh like this, after neutering a man with a chainsaw, to sonically disrupt the rapidly emerging narrative of her cruelty in the hopes that observers will agree to her new implied narrative that the ordeal is all a light-hearted joke between friends. Girls have to walk a tightrope when disabling insolent beta orbiters in public; they have to simultaneously disabuse the orbiter of his presumption AND prevent her social ostracism by onlookers who will naturally feel sympathetic toward the orbiter.

I can’t blame the girl. This beta set the bitch up. She was cornered. She had to move against him. It’s so typical of mincing passive betaboys to wait for claustrophobic moments to make their move, like when the girl is trapped in an elevator or on a TV game show. If I were this cute girl, on reflection I’d be pissed.

But it takes two to tango. One exploitative minx, and one willing-to-be-exploited beta. He pounces when (he thinks) she’s most defenseless; she leads him on for months when he’s most defenseless. Nobody comes out a winner here. The sadist requires the masochist. The dom the sub.

Returning to the title of this post, the best way to recover from a brutally public friendzoning is a cheeky interpretation of the Game tactics ASSUME THE SALE and AGREE & AMPLIFY.

HER: shiv shiv shiv shiv shiva destroyer of socially retarded blue balled beta orbiters *tee hee*

YOU: I love a girl who plays hard to get.

To pull this off our insipid beta would need Supreme Gentleman levels of state control, and a practiced shit-eating grin. But let’s face it, there aren’t many ways to salvage an LJBF blowout this catastrophic. To get the right Inner Game for such a salvage operation, our beta male would have had to have multiple HB6s-and-above plates in rotation to prevent the ramifications we see here from his having oneitis for this Cruella de Filly.

***

A reader mentioned that Flip the Script Game would work here, too.

HER: We’re friends!

HIM: YESSSSSS! I’m single again! FREEDOM BABY!”

That would be pretty funny, and it would totally restore his dignity imo, and put a little egg on her face as a bonus.

***

Another good response, offered by multiple commenters,

“Yeah, we’re just friends…with benefits lzzlolzlol!”

***

Commenter Lash notices a dead giveaway about the girl’s motivations:

How has no one mentioned this? Emphasis mine.

About 0:07: [HER:] “We’re friends. Haha. We’re friends, but he wants to . . . . . “.

I can’t believe I missed that part. So she knows he wants to fuck her, but she’s so cruel and selfish she doesn’t give a shit about his unrequited lust and will continue using him for the asexual orbiter gibs.

Remember, folks, women can only use men who allow themselves to be used.

***

The Friendzone Text (h/t da GBFM):

It’s funny cuz it’s cold.

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How To Manage The Hysterically Jealous Girlfriend

A jealous girlfriend isn’t necessarily an obstacle to an award-winning relationship. In fact I’d argue that a woman’s jealousy is the solar energy of sustainable romance. When she’s jealous, you’re desired. And when you’re desired, she’s not MIA for twisted bedsheet time.

Ideally, you want to stoke a little jealousy in your woman, sporadically and with varying intensity and duration, so that it’s never predictable and she can dismiss it as another one of your effortgoads to secure her love. Too little jealousy is a recipe for cuntplacency. Too much jealousy risks a relationship blowout. Be baby bear’s porridge.

Inciting bouts of manageable jealousy is the heart of Dread Game. However, there will be times you overstep and drive your girl insane in the femmebrain with self-doubt and fear of loss. When this happens, I have a mitigation plan that won’t let you down. When she melts down accusing you of cheating or some other affront to her faithful womanhood, put on your best amused mastery face and, smiling broadly like a cat who just caught a mouse, reply,

“Wow you are REALLY jealous right now. This is so awesome!”

She’ll check herself before wrecking herself. Expect her to be confused or charmed (in women, these two states are often the same), and watch as the ire and anxiety drain right out of her. She might murmur something like “how is this awesome?” or “oooookaaaay…” which is her way of processing an unexpected information flow. (She was expecting your defensive denials.) You will continue in the same vein,

“You love me so much. It’s sweet.”

Her: blah blah don’t think so blah blah you’re so arrogant blah

“I better watch myself around other women! If I check out a cute girl you might buy me a Corvette.”

At this point, she’s either laughing or fuming, or both. Either reaction is good news. The fear has dissipated; thanks to your ASSUME THE SALE and AGREE & NOTIFY ministrations she’s realized how silly she sounded and is mad at you for making her feel that way. The madness will in short order give way to gladness and then to missionary tradness.

The above can be used by stone bold jerkboys who got caught cheating for real but don’t yet want to give up the dream of building a de facto harem of slightly obsessed loverladies.

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The Wee Heartiste

From an emailer,

ok. so i’m hanging out with my 4 year old son and my girlfriend – a blonde, 5’9″ smokeshow. my kid’s riding lookout on my shoulders as we make our way through an idle, sun-soaked afternoon. after a natural ebb in the conversation, my woman looks up at my boy and says, “so, if you had to choose between being a fish or a bird for the rest of your life, which would it be?”

silence, for the length of a drawn breath.

then, my son: “i’d like to kiss YOU for the rest of my life.”

i may never stop smiling.

Haha. Non Sequitur Game meets Apocalypse Game. The boy’s technique is a little rough around the edges, but he’s got the right mindset that will guarantee him a bright future in the poon procurement business. He’s only four years old, so there’s plenty of time for honing his seduction skill. To the boy’s credit, the inner alpha attitude is more important to achieve than the Game techniques which advertise it, and the earlier in life it’s achieved, the better for the growing boy’s romantic prospects. It’s usually a tougher path to go from Technique –> Attitude (essentially, fake it till you make it) than it is to go from Attitude –> Technique (mine it then refine it).

Related, I’ve noticed fathers glow with pride when recounting or observing their sons’ romantic exploits. Nothing makes papas proud quite as much as watching their sons charm the ladies. Only a son’s victory in sport or accomplishment in business or academia have a similar ego swelling effect on fathers, and for the same reason: success in those things translates to success in the one thing that matters most in the final analysis — winning the love of hsmv women. Our emailer’s 4-yr-old budding Casanova is revealing, for now unwittingly, the glories of his future reproductive fitness.

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