I Give Girl Game Advice To A Girl Newly Arrived In The City

I recently received an email from an early 20s girl who just moved to a big city and wanted advice on how to avoid becoming a bitter, cock hopping lawyer chick in pursuit of the elusive commitment-oriented alpha boyfriend. Like most women, she is interested in marriage and kids with a man who also tingles her tangle, and has decided that waiting until her 30s after years climbing the corporate and grad school ladder would be a grave mistake. Smart girl. She requested I don’t post the email, so I will only post my reply to her.

Chateau,

I just recently discovered your blog, and while your theory of women is hardly flattering, my own experience has proved it to be 99.9% true. However, after browsing through your archives I found that you occasionally give advice to wayward womanly souls. I understand the mailbag is very full these days, but I hope you’ll take a moment to read this and offer your complete and unvarnished opinion.

[REDACTED]

“What can I do to make myself a more attractive candidate for a wife?”

My answer:

[Note: The girl attached photos of herself. She’s a 6, maybe 6.5. There is raw material to work with. Since 99% of girl game is looks + youth, the advice you read me giving her here is for that last thin reed of 1% of attractiveness measures that are within a woman’s control to change. An improvement in that 1% won’t allow a woman to move up from a beta to an alpha, but it could mean dating up from a 5.5 to a 5.6, or between getting unceremoniously pumped and dumped and squeezing out four months of relationship bliss. In the zero-sum soul crucible of the sexual market, a tiny upgrade from a 5.5 man to a 5.6 man might mean the difference between divorce and a white picket fence.]

Ok, this is a question that just can’t be answered succinctly in the quippy way I like to answer reader emails.  But based on what you wrote in your email I can give you a few pointers.

First, you sound like a pleasant girl, but then most girls who move to the big city start off pleasant only to be ground up by years running the dating circuit. This isn’t the suburbs. A lot of men here will pump and dump you, and from what you told me it sounds like you would be easy prey for pump and dumpers. I’m not going to tell you to suck it up and date men who don’t turn you on. That would be like me telling a man to get past a fat chick’s face and do her in the folds for the good of society. But you do need to have a solid perspective on what you can reasonably snag for the long term. So let’s start with the positives.

• You’re young. This is by far the biggest asset you have now. Leverage it to the hilt. A 21 year old 6 can compete with a 32 year old 7.5.
• You’re aware of reality. Don’t underestimate this. When you witness the wreckage of lawyer chicks’ lives piling up around you, your firm grasp of reality will help you avoid endless pain and hallucinations that your cat is a human baby.

Now the negatives.

• You moved to a big city. Yes, the city is exciting, and the opportunities are great. But you will be continually tempted by alpha swagger and charm to drop your panties, only to feel the burn of disengagement after a few months, weeks, nights. Now you may get lucky and a true alpha will fall in love with you and want marriage and babies, but the odds are not in your favor.
• You dress frumpy. Spice it up a little. You don’t have to ho out, but you should dress sexier. This is the big leagues now.

As for advice, here’s a quickie checklist:

Coy is good, but don’t be a cocktease. A greater beta, (if all things go in your favor, the best I believe you can shoot for), will quickly tire of you if your goodies aren’t parceled out on a fairly brisk timetable. So pace your makeouts. Aim for closing the deal around date #5 or 6. Any earlier than that and your dreamboat may decide you were under his maximum potential since you gave it up without much work on his part. Any later than that and he may decide you are too much work for the deal you are giving him.

Be shy. Men, especially alphas, love shy women. (Betas, because of low self confidence, tend to misinterpret female shyness as disinterest.) There is probably an evolutionary reason for this. Perhaps a shy woman subcommunicates that she will be less likely to cheat in a relationship. Smile and look down at your feet when he approaches you. Learn to blush on demand. Or apply makeup so it always looks like you’re blushing. Since you have very pale skin, this shouldn’t be too hard to do.

Play a little hard to get. Did you eye flirt with him and sweep a lock of hair behind your ear when he entered the office? Good. Now, when he approaches to say hi you smile warmly, issue a couple of pleasantries, and BE THE FIRST to walk away from the conversation, telling him you need to get back to work. You’ve gotta give the man some running room to chase down his prey. It’s in our blood.

Shy != retiring. In your high-powered career field filled with ambitious douchebags greater beta males you are likely to meet men who enjoy a bit of snappy badinage with a smart chick. If you discuss weighty topics, and feel a need to express disagreement, do so in a way that displays your sharpness but also strokes his ego. Always preface your disagreement by saying “I can see your point…”. Let him win 90% of the time, even when you are right. On those disagreements where you allow yourself to win, be sure they are inconsequential points that will not offend his pride of phallus.

DON’T come onto high value men. Yeah, you might get fucked, but you won’t get loved. Notice I said “high value” men. If you are attracted to a lower value man you may find it advantageous to drop a hint or two. Betas have a hard time screwing up the courage to approach a woman giving no signals at all.

DON’T give blowjobs before you have had sex with him. An early, pre-sex blowjob says one thing to a man — slut. And sluts don’t impress men as marriage prospects.

DON’T try to meet men while hanging out with a bachelorette party. Instead, hang your head in shame and tell any man who asks that you were bribed to go along. He will then be curious about you.

DON’T talk about sex, unless you want him to fuck you that night.

DON’T date a man better looking than what you can reasonably expect to get if you want to have any chance of impressing him in bed.

Date older men. Since you are not a heart-bursting hottie (don’t be depressed, most women aren’t), younger men are more likely to use you as a dry spell ender or entertaining diversion instead of a long term girlfriend with wifey potential. Older men are psychologically primed to settle down and commit. This generational male dynamic is especially pronounced in the big city.

Lacy lingerie. Wear it, live it, love it.

And finally, the three most important girl game tips I can give:

1. Don’t get fat.
2. Don’t be a single mom.
3. Learn to settle.

Best,

C.

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Agent Provocunteur

Maxim #112: Never underestimate the sneaky lengths to which a woman’s female friends will attempt to undermine her relationship with a boyfriend or husband they don’t approve of.

I was walking with a girl when one of her close female friends called. I listened in on the side of the conversation available to me.

“I’ve found the perfect guy for you… You’d really like him…. No, he’s really cute…. Do you remember Ben from Mischa’s party?…. Yes!, isn’t he funny?…. Oh you guys would be so perfect together…. I know I know….. So what?….. Oh don’t be such a worrywart…. I heard he’s a really good dancer too…. Maaaaaaybe I’ll invite him out after our Yoga class…. *laugh*…”

I knew her girl friend on the phone. She was a cute Asian girl, 28 years old, currently dating a white man in his 50s. They had been dating for over a year when we were all introduced at a party once. I remember the man was in shape and presentable, though he looked his years, with a neatly coifed head of silver hair. I was told he was an excellent tango dancer and that’s how they met. I was also told by third parties that he was uninterested in marriage or children, preferring the freedom of his bachelor life. I was naturally intrigued by this man because I am compelled to give props to any older man without obvious compensatory means who is able to bag a much younger and cuter chick on his terms. I observed them closely at the party, and noticed the Asian girl’s obvious love and devotion for him as she tenderly rested her hand on his knee. For his part, he looked at her with pride and love, and struck the acceptable alpha pose of a man in control of his love life (satisfied, borderline smug, smile coupled with glances of affection and contented stares into the distance.)

In other words, there was no evidence the Asian girl friend on the phone was dissatisfied with her older gentleman boyfriend.

Before their phone conversation was over, I leaned into the mouthpiece and shouted “Homewrecker!” The girl with me giggled.

Laugh it up, muffball.

I asked my woman companion why, if her girl friend was happy with her boyfriend, she was trying to set her up with another man? I was offered a pu pu platter of Rationalizing Hamster savories.

“But he doesn’t want kids and I know she does.”

“Did you ask him personally if he doesn’t want kids? Did you ask her if she wants to leave him because of the kids issue?”

“It’s not just the kids. He likes to stay indoors and do his own thing, and she’s just doing what he wants to do. They’re not compatible.”

“You’re absolutely positive she’d rather be out hanging with the girls instead of staying at home with him?”

“Yes, she’s a fun girl. She would be happier with someone on her wavelength.”

“She seems pretty happy right now with him.”

“He’s not serious about her.”

“Are you a mindreader?”

“Stop it. It’s a girls thing. We have intuition about this.”

“Don’t hate on love.”

If you’ve ever harbored doubts about the inherently evil nature of women as you diligently polish the porcelain pussy pedestal in your head which refuses to dislodge itself, look no further than the scheming, manipulative ploys women will happily pursue in service to destroying the love between a female friend and a man they don’t think is “appropriate” for her.

Love, as fragile, rare, and transcendent as it is, means nothing to women when the man in question offends their hypergamous sensibilities and their urge to conformity. It doesn’t even matter if the man is not their own lover. They will seek and destroy anything which subverts the established pussy order.

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Why Do Conservatives Sanctify Women?

Reader LoboSolo sent me this article by conservative writer Paul Greenberg extolling the “innate superiority” of women.

I’ve never been much of a believer in historical theories about the Indispensable Man. There may be some examples — Washington, Lincoln, Moses — but they are few. But the indispensable woman, I believe in. Call it Greenberg’s Law: Women are the innately superior sex. My theory may not be backed by any scientific evidence, but it’s something every man has surely felt. At least if he’s got a lick of sense. […]

When it comes to great truths, each generation shouldn’t have to work them out by itself. They don’t have to be written down, any more than the English constitution is. Every boy soon learns that women seem to know intuitively what the weaker male sex may grasp only by effort and education. Which is why it requires marriage and family to civilize the male animal. He needs a woman’s tutelage.

Greenberg tells a story, among others, which purports to demonstrate unassailable female virtue:

Brighter boys learn the lesson of female superiority early; dimmer ones may never catch on. A story: It was homecoming weekend many years ago in Pine Bluff, Ark., and a clump of us stood on Main Street waiting for the black college’s high-stepping marching band to come striding by, drum major and majorettes and 76 trombones and all.

A venturesome little boy in the group stepped off the curb to look way up the street — where the little girl on the Sunbeam Bread sign, a local landmark, still swings endlessly to and fro. Way in the distance, the boy spotted the prancing majorettes throwing their batons high, higher, highest, catching them on the beat. “Wow!” he exclaimed, returning to report what he’d seen. His conclusion: “Girls have to know so many things!”

Lovely stories, Mr. Greenberg. Now let me tell you a story.

I’ve seen things you gullible chumps wouldn’t believe. Married women’s loins on fire off the rumpled sheets of my bed. A feminine Russian woman, her buttocks turned in my direction, sweetly asking me if I’d “like to do her in the ass” as her cell phone rings with the plaintive wail of her husband seeking her whereabouts. I’ve watched nipples harden in the dark near the cathedral gate, and behind the rectory doors. I’ve lain with the most virtuous women you could imagine — caring women who “have to know so many things” and who give dollars to homeless bums and who tear up during sad scenes in the movies — who freely allowed my member to violate them in every conceivable way in their husband’s and boyfriend’s beds, their writhing bodies, ecstatic moans, and gushing furrows testament to the lustful abandon with which they unshackled themselves of that other conservative virtue, fidelity. I once counseled the most darling woman — a young woman so exquisitely gentle and winsome I’d dare any man not to fall instantly for her — to stop her flowing tears for our doomed affair and, there on the sidewalk in midday, to return to her husband at her apartment which was two blocks down the street; the husband who, through years of his toil and love, put a roof over her underemployed head in one of the ritzier neighborhoods of the city. I have made love — God’s highest expression of devotion to His creation — with women in the company of small woodland creatures, scandalized roommates, and children who were, as best we dared, out of earshot of our erotic rustlings. I have witnessed women, caught in the snare of irrefutable evidence damning their supposed virtue, lie with the effortlessness of a soulless sociopath. In the moment of release, when we come closest to touching the Hand of God, I have been instructed by a wondrously virtuous woman to “rape her” and to “do it like you mean it”. Her screams of howling joy — pain or pleasure I could not tell — to this day echo in my memories. And, most enlightening of all, I have seen wives and girlfriends, their hearts once filled with seemingly endless and nourishing love, cruelly turn on their daft former lovers with a vengeance unmatched by even a wronged God. Such as the time a sizzlingly sexy brunette whose mouth I was gracing with the metaphorical appendage of God’s divine love answered a phone call, mid-oral delight, from her ex-fiancee (who it should be noted was recovering from a mental breakdown) to thank him for purchasing a $5,000 Tempur-Pedic mattress delivered to her apartment two weeks earlier. Her thank you’s sounded surprisingly sincere for a woman whose free hand was simultaneously cradling the fleshy pod holding the life-giving seed of another man.

All those moments will be lost in time, Mr. Greenberg, like tears in rain.

What is it with conservatives and their willful blindness to the true nature of women? Pedestalization of the Other (and its many permutations, c.f. “noble savage”, “gaiaism”, “diversity”, and “na’vi”) is a sickening act of self-abasement; a desperate denial that one could possibly be right when one has been so badly wronged, or that a wrongdoer could possibly be as bad as the facts attest. Perhaps those who engage in this sort of faith-based pedestalization of women are deathly afraid to confront the reality of female nature because it would impose on their tidy worldview. Perhaps they need a savior, in the form of women, like of god, to compartmentalize the darkness and symbolize something to aspire to. After all, if women are just as bad as men, where does that leave the sensitive man? Stuck now with double the responsibility to guard oneself against predation by both sexes, and to discard to the ash heap cherished notions of the fairer sex. Does this sound familiar? If you thought “beta”, you’d be right.

Where conservatives sanctify women, liberals demonize men. Not all conservatives and not all liberals, but enough of them that a valid generalization can be made. Whether sanctifying women or demonizing men, the end result is the same: laws, policies, and cultural beliefs that are anti-male, and which we in the West are soaking in today.

I believe the conservative’s and liberal’s instincts toward women can be explained by contrasting the peculiar life conditions of both:

• Conservatives, having grown up in larger, more intact families than liberals, and being thus surrounded by more sisters, aunts, and female cousins on a daily basis, are loathe to imagine those female relatives could be the alpha cock-hungry animals inside that they really are. Liberals, meanwhile, hailing from broken homes and guided under the tutelage of man-hating single moms with a revolving bedroom door, find it easier to grasp the amoral nature of women.
• Conservatives have less sexual experience with women than do liberals. I would not be surprised if it was discovered that liberal men lost their virginity at an earlier age than conservative men. Nothing teaches like experience.
• Conservatives believe women are morally child-like compared to men, that women are the weaker sex, and so cannot be held accountable for their actions. Liberals, who see white male oppression behind every human group difference, are more likely to individualize a woman’s bad actions and politicize a man’s bad actions.
• Conservatives are ashamed of their base desires. Thus, they recoil at the thought that the women they desire might share the same debased thoughts that they do. Liberals, by contrast, are proud of their base desires. And so they are more accepting of the knowledge that women are as depraved as men.
• Religious conservatives fear sex for its power to distract from god. It is better for them that women are thought of as empty vessels incapable of making sex-based calculations in their decisions. Secular liberals love sex for its power to distract from considering the merits of any moral code. It is better for them that women are thought of as sex-possessed tankgrrls ready to rumble across the Vaginot Line of mind-body liberation.
• Conservatives invest more in the idea of family than do liberals. A wanton woman is a grave threat to that idea, graver than even a wanton man, for reasons clearly elucidated by evolutionary biology. Ergo, women cannot possibly be as wanton as men.
• Conservative women are busier being pregnant and/or fatter than liberal women, and are thus less frequently able to act wantonly. This may skew conservative men’s impressions of women to being something more positive than it really is.
• Conservatives by temperament are drawn to the beautiful. Liberals by temperament are drawn to the degraded. Conservatives have trouble tainting with dark knowledge the beauty of a woman in her prime. Liberals relish the thought that a beautiful young woman would wallow in the mud just as enthusiastically as they do.

As a man who is drawn to both the beautiful and the degraded, my aim is to act as a bridge between conservative men and liberal men, holding the liberal’s hand tenderly to the conservative’s crotch. I shall bring understanding between the two mortal enemies, and together we shall march into the nearest bar, our minds fortified with the knowledge of women’s true natures and our hearts swollen with masculine conceit, and lay waste to that place, claiming battalions of pussy for our own. Without excuse, without apology. Without god, whether supernatural or political.

Women are vile creatures at heart, just as men are. An ugly truth, Mr. Greenberg, which even God can’t shield you from. Don’t let the batting eyelashes fool you.

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Icebreakers For The SWPL Chicks In Your Neighborhood

Is your neighborhood infested with status whoring but irresistibly cute SWPL girls? Then you need an icebreaker tailor made for their fastidiously ironic sensibilities. Let’s say you and the SWPL girl of your infatuations are sifting through a selection of $10 jars of almond butter at Whole Foods. Unless you are a savvy shopper, most stuff at Whole Foods is ridiculously overpriced. Knowing this, you look across your shoulder at her and say:

“If it isn’t overpriced, I don’t feel like I’m getting my money’s worth.”

Wait for her to smile (she will, if she doesn’t take herself too seriously) and enjoy that moment when your pinkies touch reaching for the same jar of almond butter.

Now you’re at the local dog park, a place where SWPLs can feel morally upstanding for giving their dogs the opportunity to run free on a scruffy patch of 10 feet by 20 feet crabgrass (artificial grass if you’re at the Dupont dog park.) A tasty number sits down near you with her pomeranian in tow.

“The great thing about dogs is that you don’t have to worry about moving out of the city when they get old enough to go to school.”

What if you see the SWPL of your dreams at the local bike shop, where she’s purchasing enough biking accoutrements to outfit a small, fitness-oriented Central American guerilla army?

“I really recommend that aquapac. It’s good to be prepared in case you get stuck for weeks in the wilderness of Rock Creek Park.”

Close your eyes. Open them! Now you see a cute SWPL babe at a Georgetown consignment shop. She’s trying on musty old hats.

“That hat would be even cooler on you if it was a man’s hat. And it had an Olympics pin on it.”

You’re at the famed E Street Cinema in downtown DC. You’re standing in line next to a SWPL babe to see a sub-subtitled foreign flic of mega-ironic proportions. (It’s originally spoken in Czech, dubbed over in German, subtitled in French and sub-subtitled in English.) You capture her attention while waiting in line to buy a ticket.

“I hope this movie comes with 3D glasses.”

You’re at an outdoor concert, standing in line to use the Porta-John. You get her attention and say…

Well, actually, nothing. There’s nothing flirty you can say while waiting to use a Porta-John. It’s just too gross.

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Unemployment Busting The Mating Market?

Zeets sounded like a teenager who just discovered his parents’ 1980s era VHS porn stash.

“Dude, the women are coming out of the woodwork. I’m getting more than nibbles now. The fish are hooking themselves as soon as I drop the line in the water!”

Zeets has been blowing up the internet dating niche for the past couple of months. Multiple dates per week, and women were reaching out to him, texting him constantly about times to meet and what he’s doing for the weekend. And all this in DC. It’s as if the heavens parted and pussy shone down on his head like a beam of light.

“Why do you think that is? What’s changed this winter?”

Zeets stroked his goatee like a young Zeus. “Well, I can tell you what I think is going on. Most of these women I’m seeing are unemployed. That’s a big change from just a year ago when they all had exciting and wonderful nonprofit jobs. Now all those precious nonprofits have dried up. Suddenly these women are out of work living in an expensive city. A lot of them don’t have two pennies to rub together because of grad school loans.”

“And that’s where a guy with a steady paycheck can step in and clean up.”

Zeets jabbed a finger of exclamation. “Exactly. You take a guy like me, who knows his way around women, and who has a job and steady income, and it’s like putting a bulls-eye on my cock. Women are gunning for it. They’re not so ridiculously picky anymore.”

This conversation got me thinking about economic trends and how they impact the dating market. In most of the country, men are filling the unemployed ranks, not women. But DC seems to be an outlier. Women here are feeling the sting of the recession just as much, if not more so, than men. Accordingly, out of work DC women are adjusting their self-worth downward, and in the process becoming less spastically picky about what they require in a man.

It’s no secret that DC women are full of themselves. 4s think they’re 7s, 7s think they’re 9s, and cunty lawyers waving their big vocabularies and multiple degrees think they’re supermodels. I’ve discussed many reasons why women would be prone to overestimating their looks. Now you can add unemployment to the list of factors that influence how a woman perceives her mating value.

Women, and a lot of men, are stricken by a psychological disease known as projection. What women find attractive in a man is what they think men find attractive in them. All else equal, women generally prefer men with a steady income to unemployed men. And so they mistakenly assume men prefer to date women with a job and income. But men and women don’t neatly mirror each other that way. If the woman is good-looking enough, most men won’t give a shit if she’s out of work. They’ll be thinking of the lay, only the lay, and nothing but the lay. In fact, many men will go out of their way to date unemployed women, because they justifiably think they can date up a point or two when their designation as a job holder grants them a relative boost in status.

Maxim #31: Any change in the relative status between men and women introduces new instabilities into the mating market.

Women, however, almost always assign too much importance to their own employment status and too little importance to their looks or weight when subconsciously calculating how desirable they are to men. This phenomenon explains why DC, filled as it is with hard-charging alpha globocorporate cunts, is plagued by haughty 4s who think they can play a 7’s game. It also explains why women, now that the jobs are disappearing, are beginning to lower their expectations in the mating market based on a distorted self-evaluation of their sexual worth. Soon DC will resemble the less economically illustrious parts of the country, where a 4 is properly reminded she is a 4 every morning she wakes up and looks sadly in the mirror.

As long as women continue to believe their job status matters to men, regions where the recession has impacted heavily female occupations are going to be boomtowns for men looking for a chance to play out of their league. That 8 you thought was too hot for you? Well, now that she’s out of work, she just might give your beta provider ass the time of day.

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HIIIIII!!

I was sitting at one of my favorite social venues when a disturbance behind me erupted. A woman had just arrived and greeted her mixed group of friends with an exaggeratedly pronounced “Hiiii!!!” All the women already sitting at the table, and the couple of men who were with them, replied nearly in unison with an even louder and prolonged “Hiiiiii!!!”. The “Hiiii!!” was annoying beyond belief; a sing-song-y, off-key yenta battle cry. It’s hard to describe the sound of a spoken word, but imagine a musical “Hi” divided into two notes with the accent (upbeat) on the first note (Hii-) followed languorously by a longer downbeat on the second whole note (-iiiiiiii), spoken in adagio and fortissimo. Would a girl saying “Hi” like this sound phony? Yes!

It’s pretty common knowledge that DC stands at the top in per capita phoniness. There is a higher density of phoniness per square mile here than even in vaunted phony cities like New York. The whole reason of DC’s existence is to persuade other people to throw money, perks, or props your way, so a finely developed skill in the art of phoniness is a requirement before stepping in the ring. But this latest incarnation of phoniness is breathtaking even to a jaded cynic like myself. And these were not teen girls. They were grown-ass women with non-profit jobs and rich daddies to pay their exhorbitant rents.

To all the girls reading this post who greet each other and their gay best boyfriends this way, I ask: Are you *really* that happy to see your friends whom you just saw last week? Or is phoniness the new black? Maybe you think the phony Hi and the accompanying fake phony smile are supposed to be feminine, but I assure you, it is not. Fingernails on a chalkboard? Yes. Feminine? No. I’ll go out on a limb here and hypothesize that girls who are fakers when greeting people are also fakers in bed.

Here’s what I think is going on. The thuper duper edge community gay culture and the girly follower female culture have fused and become as one — a vortex of caricatured, trannyfied pseudofemininity spewing nebulae of jutting manjaws, wildly faggy gesticulations, and conversations that sound downright operatic. It is a vortex of suckage that any straight man would find baffling, which come to think of it, may be the point. But I can definitely tell you what it is *not*. It’s not attractive. This illustrates another great dividing line between the sexes — our respective reactions to phoniness. In general, men loathe phonies. Women cherish the company of phonies, and embrace the phony scene with gusto. Without phonies in their lives, women would have nothing to be catty about behind closed doors.

There is a powerful feeback loop in effect when girls and gays join forces. Where does this great culture meld between city girls and city gays end?

Half the moves in men’s figure skating look like reach arounds.

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Valentine’s Day Mascara

Valentine’s Day is probably the one day of the year which presents special difficulties to the harem king attempting to juggle his multiple lovers. Birthdays and anniversaries are scattered and Christmas absences can be excused by claiming to spend time with family. But Valentine’s Day is that one day of the year that every girl in the known universe expects to be spending with the man who is laying intimately with her. So what does the Man With Multiple Lovers do on this most romantic of days?

I can tell you what the harem king doesn’t do: Tell the truth. There is some literature in the seduction community dealing with harem management (or “multiple long term relationships”) for truly advanced players, but what is counseled is something along the lines of 1. be honest, 2. reframe, and 3. be exceptionally high status. For most men, satisfying condition nmber 3 is unlikely, which is the most important variable in being able to successfully and *openly* manage multiple lovers. There is a reason that seduction community advice for handling MLTRs is so sparse and half-baked — it’s damned hard to do. The fact is that most successful players — alphas and greater betas alike — will lie out of expedience to enable the gravy train of multiple concurrent pussy to keep rolling. Honest and open MLTRs of the sort extolled by pickup instructors who are scared of being labeled misogynists are very rare. I estimate less than 0.5% of men can pull it off for longer than a few months. Eventually, one or more of the girls will tire of the arrangement and opt out, and it will usually be the highest quality [read: age 18- 25, BMI 17 – 23] concubine in his harem, because she is the one with the most options on the open sexual market.

As for reframing, yes, if your game is exceptional and your aloofness unshakeable, you can execute a smooth reframe with all your women and avoid lying to them about sleeping around. But I mean your game has to be tighter than an Asian chick’s virgin anus. And don’t expect it to last much beyond the four month mark. If you think kickass reframing will net you three hot, faithful, simultaneous long term girlfriends who dote on you for years, you need to come down to earth. Your game is not that good. Even pinnacle alpha males have trouble with this. You think Angelina Jolie would tolerate for long a second lover in Brad’s bed? Sure, she likely looks the other way at his dalliances (in much the same way Elin Woods ignored the evidence of Tiger’s blatant cheating for years until the dam burst), but Brad upholds his end of the bargain by LYING about those dalliances, either forthrightly or by omission. I’m assuming Brad is cheating, because the odds of a man of his status not cheating on a rapidly trannie-mogrifying wife like Jolie are infinitesimally low.

An alternative to psy-ops pimp-style harem management for successfully operating an open and honest MLTR is to relinquish your male prerogative as sole pussy possessor. If you state up front to your girls that your desire to bed a variety of women means it’s only natural you don’t place the same expectations of fidelity on them, you can amp up your aloofness game to maximum overload and actually pull off the coveted Open and Honest MLTR. Upside: You never have to worry about covering your tracks. (Roosh recently wrote a good post about track covering). Downside: You may be swimming in polluted vaj. The downside risk to this alternative is so anathema to the majority of men, that even if they have mentally rationalized their way to embracing the wonders of the open, polyamorous relationship, they will likely find it nearly impossible to control their emotions should they suspect one of their favored mistresses is fucking another man on the side. The god of biomechanics, the one true god, is not to be trifled with. This also explains why the denizens of professed polyamorous arrangements are usually ugly, fat, middle-aged hippies with greasy hair. When the grotesqueries you are banging are practically worthless in the sexual market, you don’t much care if they screw around. You aren’t losing much.

I don’t mean to be a complete downer on the concept of the open MLTR. There is a chance, not insignificant, that following the precepts of the open relationship by establishing early on with your women a very loose code of conduct could redound in your favor. Women aren’t linear in thought or action, so telling them they have the option to fuck on the side since that is what you will be doing does not mean that your women are actually going to follow through and fuck on the side. It could just as well result in them wondering in awe at your alphaness that you don’t care if your concubines “cheat” on you. This is aloofness game taken to the nth degree, and can often send the rationalization hamsters spinning so furiously that your multiple girlfriends won’t have the mental energy to expend seeking out additional male partners. They will instead spend their spare time analyzing the smallest details of your words and actions. Remember, too, that it is not in the nature of women to sleep with more than one man at a time, so the open relationship is often open in name only. What normally happens to open relationships is the primary (most attractive) girl bolts after a few months while the lesser girls squabble for sole rights to your time.

Which brings us back to Valentine’s Day. How does the man with multiple lovers deal with V-Day? Well, as I’ve amply demonstrated above, he doesn’t tell the truth. That would be sexual suicide for most men. He prefers not to blatantly lie either, not because of his tender concern for upholding a moral order in the universe, but because as a practical matter it’s hard to keep up with lies. And the inveterate player never lets his eye too far off the practical matters, even for men such as myself with a strong streak of romanticism. No, what he does instead is EVADE. And evasion is best accomplished through planning and foresight.

Let’s say you are currently banging three girls, rated 8, 7 and 5. You’ve been with the 8 for six months, the 7 for four months, and the 5 two months. (The 5 is your guaranteed booty call when you MUST BUST RIGHT NOW.) Obviously, the 8 is going to receive the bulk of your loving attention, and you will be most upset if she were the one to leave you. So you set up the official Valentine’s Day date with the 8. Plan to do the usual stuff with her — nice restaurant, flowers, charming flattery, wild sex. Two weeks before V-Day you call the 7 and tell her to make sure she keeps the weekend before Valentine’s Day free, because you are going to take her out and show her a good time. Then you call the 5 and tell her to be free a couple of days after V-Day. Why do you do this? By preemptively arranging dates with your lesser girls around Valentine’s Day, you buy yourself plausible exemption from having to spend time with them on V-Day itself. They will be so happy that you’re taking them out they won’t be too bothered by the fact that it’s not on Valentine’s Day. If they ask why you aren’t taking them out on V-Day (most girls won’t ask, as it would be an admission of their doubts about their worthiness to you), tell them you spend Valentine’s Day with your family. Or just say you’ll be out of town, so you wanted to see them before you leave. If the spirit moves you, have some flowers delivered to them on V-Day, which they will receive with warm smiles while you are blasting a glorious load in the face of your number one lover.

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