Archive for the ‘Girls’ Category

I’m gonna let youze yeggs in on a leetle secret. You want to experience the profound joy of romancing, bedding, and loving many, many attractive women? Then you’ll get far if you do this one weird trick:

Make your intention known.

Now, I don’t mean walk up to girls and tell them you want to bang them silly. Girls require a veneer of plausible deniability. The art of flirting is revealing a hint of a glimpse of what’s on your mind without spelling it out.

I mean, make eye contact, and keep it a tic past the threshold of discomfort.

That’s all you need to get going on your journey of poon. The simple act of telegraphing seductive intent through the eyes and the body will open the door to endless romantic possibility. So many women are starved for the attention of men who can forcefully command their gaze.

Beta males suffer a case of Attention Diffidence Disorder that prematurely kills so many chances with girls it may as well be called crib death for cocksas. Cold approaches from a blind angle are always fun, but nothing stimulates every sense quite like an unspoken invitation to thigh adventure. Show intention and her blood pounds, chest reddens, pussy tingles. It’s just a beginning, with no guarantee of a fulfilling end, but what a sweet beginning it is, the first dulcet notes of a symphony waiting for your conductor’s baton.

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Gaming The Exhibitionist

Almost all pre-Wall women who haven’t surrendered to The Fattening are natural exhibitionists, to a lesser or greater degree of commitment and intensity. It’s in their meat robot wiring, because women have to exhibit themselves to capture men’s attention. They certainly won’t attract male attention with their math skills or stand-up routines.

HB exhibitionism is therefore a rhythm of female life that is best tolerated, or even eagerly welcomed as part of the richness of passionate seduction. However, a man will, in the course of a full dating life, occasionally tangle with a pathological exhibitionist. You know the type: standard BPD operating system, crazy eyes from either too little or too much alpha cock, a whimsical GUI that hides a devious sociopathic core processor, and most notably a propensity for shoving her blatant sexuality in a man’s face and then accusing him (in so many words) of objectifying her. Paging PoundMeToo…

On the topic of gaming exhibitionists (who will Game the Gamer?), Turd Ferguson asks,

What’s the best way to game the Exhibitionist?

Story: Last night at the gym, strong HB8.5 wearing spandex shorts & sports bra. Must have really been worried about her upper back bc she did only bent-rows for 30 minutes. [ed: she was presenting] I approached, she seemed enjoy my teasing & smiled a lot, but rejected the # close. What do?

The strategy is a simple one. Exhibitionists expect male slobbering. Defy that expectation. Don’t be a StepinFelchIt. Exhibitionists are gamed by deflating their expectation of thirsty betas noticing them. Very subtle negs insinuating that you know what they’re up to are usually gold. For example, in Turd’s scenario above: “Are two mirrors enough for you? Minimum, three, to get your form right.”

What the implementation of the counter-exhibitionist strategy entails is a. acting like you don’t notice her flagrant displays of attention or b. noticing her display, but only to make fun of her for it. A really good tactic I’ve found is to call the exhibitionist an amateur, along the lines of “flaunting your cleavage is so derivative”*.

*please do not use the word derivative. i used it here for humorous effect. off this blog, use a normiejerk line such as, “does that cleavage act work for you?”.

There are other tacts. You could accuse the exhibitionist of not living up to your standards for clear and evident displays of female sexual interest. Or you could completely flip the script and chide her for being a prude in dress or behavior. This really mindfucks the psychobitionists, especially if she’s hiking her skirt up and you tell her she should try showing more leg if she wants a man to notice her.

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We may have reached the apotheosis of cat ladydom. A couple photographed themselves as the “mom” gave “birth” to a kitten.

This would be mildly amusing if these two were actually poking fun of the cat lady culture, instead of implicitly poking fun of “breeders” as this type is wont to call people who have human children. But no, they’re not kidding around about their embrace of the cat lady/cat lad lifestyle. Proof:

But one couple who recently [adopted a kitten] decided to let the world know about their furry new family member in the most unforgettable way. […]

Photographer Lucy Schultz and her partner, Steven, don’t have any kids of their own…

WOMB, there it isn’t. Looking at her, it’s not as if she’s got years left to contemplate having a real child. The clock on her egg factory is set to expire. Maybe they can psyche themselves up for the coming regimen of IVF treatments (using a buck’s sperm) by fondly looking back at these photos for encouragement.

And he looks like he’s about one tofu niblet away from his testicles burrowing back under his fupa.

“I’d been talking about doing a kitten announcement shoot when I was finally ready to adopt for over a year,” Schultz told The Dodo. “I just wanted to celebrate my cat adoption milestone as it’s something I’ve looked forward to for such a long time.”

It took her a year to decide to adopt a fucking cat? How many years will it take her to decide on the real thing? No wonder these shitlib Whites are going extinct at a rapid clip.

Schultz enlisted the help of her colleague, photographer Elizabeth Woods-Darby. The two have worked together documenting human births…

A woman’s maternal instinct has to be pathologically underdeveloped if she photographs human births as a career and still doesn’t feel the urge herself.

The photo shoot is certainly comical, but there’s nothing insincere about how much love they have for their new pet.

Two minutes after they die (from toxoplasma gondii complications), this cat would be gutting them and slurping up the pools of blood.

Hilarity aside, Schultz hopes it might inspire others to grow their own families with a pet in need of love:

“My message to everyone who is digging these photos is to check out your local shelter, consider volunteering or become a foster home and consider adopting one of the amazing homeless pets out there!”

This is how the world ends, not with a bang but a whisker.

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Alpha clutch, beta bux.

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Patter Patterns

Reader Abc123 has a Game question about girls texting at predictable times of day,

First time posting here. What does it mean if a girl never replies to you, waits a day and texts you at a specific hour. I’m noticing a pattern here. For example:

I text or initiate
she replies 10:12 am I reply later on in the day then 24 hrs later her reply is at 10:22 am or same exact time.

I met this girl during the day she opened me and we sparked up a convo, during our convo she got all chipper and asked to exchange numbers
Ive only interacted with her via text twice to say hi etc and to meet up. She texted me saying she couldn’t said she’s free to meet up Thursday and if that good for me. Am I being gamed?

Maybe. Girls have their own text strategies (and courtship strategies in general), so never assume girls are unaware of their machinations. However, girls who date a lot tend to fall into habits of mind, such as texting at a particular time each day (so they can text all their suitors at once)….take that for what it is. My advice? Ignore her games. Don’t breathe life into your suspicions because the last impression you want to leave is one of a butthurt man over-analyzing her actions.

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There’s a Swedish Faceborg advocacy group called #WeCantTakeIt — meaning the middle-aged women participating in the group can’t take their rapefugee loverboys being sent back to their shitholes. They lobby the Swedish government and (unsurprisingly) the women-heavy feminist government gives in to their demands, ruining Sweden in the process. Here’s a photo montage from the group:

On a hopeful note, some Swedish men (they still exist) mocked the group by creating one called #WeCanTakeIt which featured old, fat balding men and their imported Thai girl lovers.

Naturally, the offended Swedish scoldocracy deleted their sarcastic faceborgle group post-haste. The oldbroad-rapefugee matchmaker group still exists.

We’ve run out of time to beat around the bush (heh) any longer. Our virtue shrieking single White women and desperately lonely middle aged White broads are the PRIME VECTORS of misery, rape, death, indigence, crime, ugliness, and terrorism into the West.

At the least, these wayward wenches ought to be mocked so hard they self-deliver. And for real, not that fake phony attention whoring attempted suicide crap that women are wont to do for FB Likes.

Exhibit A: Our wayward wench of the day, @missmayn

H/t @JackMcKrack,

she stepped outside to cry – and take a selfie.

Pathological attention whoring. She should’ve gone outside and thrown herself in traffic to ease the pain of Trump. That way we’d know she was sincere.

I’m convinced now that most online pathological attention whores are hitched to soyboys IRL and are using the internet to advertise themselves to usurper alpha males.

For Miss Mayn, that usurper could be any man who doesn’t take pictures with his mouth gaping like an expectant gloryhole. For our Swedish spinsters above, that usurper is the vast barbarian horde.

I’ve said it before, and it deserves repeating: we men of the West bring our women to heel, or our women will have the West kneeling to the Shadow Swarm.

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Baron Ungern-Zimmerman (TM) draws the Shiv of the Week by drawing an excellent analogy between Western women and that Twilight Zone episode featuring the evil, all-powerful child.

[The swarthy rapefugee] hit the right baboon buttons on the back of her brain. The strongest, smartest, handsomest, best color-coordinated, well paid, conscientious, most well spokended, fat penisted, masters of ceremonies, best tile laying, or most talented at playing the kazoo do not survive. Only the fittest for the conditions which they face.

Unfortunately, the current conditions are similar to that Twilight Zone episode, “It’s A Good Life,” where an omnipotent child holds everyone hostage according to his whim. That child is the unleashed vicissitudes of the female hindbrain.

This is what happens when you give too much social and political power to women: they act out, refuse all personal responsibility or accountability for any of their actions, and demand immediate satisfaction of any whim which happens to cross their minds.

In other words, it’s like giving power to a child. Don’t expect good things to come from that. Do expect caprice, cruelty, and short-sighted stupidity.

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