When Her Frigidness Is Not A Warning Sign

In relation to yesterday’s post, there are three main reasons why a girl would withhold sex from her bf/husband. Two of these reasons signal deep trouble with the health of the relationship.

1. she’s trying to manipulate him with vagina power.
2. she’s lost attraction for him.
3. she’s genuinely not in the mood due to sickness or injury.

If you suspect #1 is happening to you, you need to make a last stand for your manhood. No wavering. Any buckling on your part and you have opened a Clamdora’s Box of perpetual bartering for her sex in exchange for your obeisance. Live free or be domesticated.

If #2 is the reason (being observant will help you notice this before it’s too late), then either attempt to outmaneuver her and restrengthen her attraction for you, or bail before your pride is in tatters. Writing her love poems is not an effective counterattack.

Only #3 can be safely taken at face value. But make sure she’s being sincere. “Headaches” don’t count. In fact, orgasms have been shown to alleviate a woman’s headache. If she pulls the headache routine on you, then every time she asks you a favor you can do the same.

“Can you help me fold laundry?”

“Not tonight honey, I have a headache.”

The only time you can excuse her for not servicing your manly needs is when she’s injured or violently ill. Emphasis on “violently”. Projectile vomiting is a legitimate excuse from sex duty. So is chemotherapy. And third trimester pregnancy. (OK, that last one was really an excuse for men.) Hip surgery absolves her of sex, but not blowjobs. The flu… no, unless it’s Asian bird flu. Car accident? Only if the airbag deployed. If she’s feeling self-conscious about “feminine odors” tell her your nose is stuffed up and do her with your head positioned as far away as possible from her privates.

Like an employer gives you sick days, have a sick leave plan for the girl you’re dating. Two days per year should suffice. There’s no accrual rate on this plan. She either uses them or loses them at the end of each year. If she uses more than two days per year you have the right to terminate the relationship contract for poor job performance.

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Withholding Sex

A local DC girl wrote a post about withholding sex in an effort to strong arm her boyfriend to marry her. (Note: The original post has been taken down by the author but you can google cache to find it.)

Let’s start this off with a patented maxim:

Maxim #25: Withholding sex is the tactic of a woman who has already lost. It is mutually assured destruction.

If a woman is withholding sex, she may win a few battles with a beta boyfriend but she has lost the war. It’s a scorched earth strategy that fails on two levels.

One, it only works on guys who can’t score elsewhere. That is to say, undesirable guys. Pissant betas with no alternative options will step right in line yapping yes-dears like spineless whimpering curs once the snatch spigot is turned off. I have seen it with my own eyes… friends who suddenly have to spend Saturdays at Pier 1 or Crate & Barrel pawing through throw pillow bins because the girlfriend pouted and clamped her legs shut. Using sex as a weapon WILL work if the enemy (and that’s what he is if the relationship has gotten to this point) is weak and defenseless. Like “The Rules”, there is a certain amount of tried and true cynicism that will get a woman what she wants… superficially.

I say “superficially” because the seed of a scheming woman’s own unhappiness is contained in the success of her manipulative strategy. A woman who breaks her man by withholding sex is a woman who will never truly respect that man. She will come to resent him for letting her get her way through such devious means. And she will see him as weak, not to be trusted. How can you trust a man who would sacrifice his dignity just to keep the vagina flowing?

An alpha who knows how to pick up women will simply walk away from any girlfriend trying to pull the “my pussy is GOLD!” routine on him. Her selfishness will have backfired.

Two, if it works it merely extends a relationship — sometimes into marriage — that is built on a shallow foundation which is guaranteed to eventually give out. If the love is more than a one-way street, she will never view sex as a bargaining chip and he will never make her so unhappy that she would seriously entertain the idea of commoditizing her cunt. So let’s say this chick gets her way — she locks up her pussy for a few weeks and he caves, buying her an expensive engagement ring. Sounds romantic, eh? If I were a betting man, I’d short sell this marriage.

Practically speaking, the withholding sex strategy is a maneuver that has lost much of its effectiveness as a means to corral a foot-dragger into proposing marriage thanks to all-access, all-the-time, all-you-can-want internet porn. A lot of men can wait out a girl playing these games by resorting to porn. And men who have been with many women, the ones who don’t need porn, the ones all women want, won’t wait long at all. They’ll wander off in search of fresh meat the moment she’s strapped on the chastity belt.

Men can play this game, too. I’ve “withheld” sex from women, not intentionally, because I was tired or sated from sex with other women. Let me tell you, turning the tables like this will REALLY fuck with a girl’s head. They take it personally, like you just left a turd in every one of her shoes.

Girls must be hardwired to completely freak out if their sexual favors are rejected. That is because they have little experience dealing with direct sexual rejection. Men are built to handle sexual rejection better. Therefore, men’s egos are stronger than women’s egos.

Update:

VK made a good point in the comments about how withholding sex can become a habit if the woman sees it is working on her man. Capitulating even once to such a woman can lead down a dangerous slippery slope.

It starts with roping the guy into marriage, then the next thing you know she’s making an impenetrable crotch fortress out of the bedsheets because you didn’t spread the cream cheese on her bagel the way she likes it.

My advice to any man who senses he is being victimized by a sex withholder — run away as fast as you can and stay away. If she wins, she wins for life. You’ll wind up begging for sex every freaking day you and her are together.

You: “Can we have sex now?”

Her: “Did you finish your chores?”

Think about it.

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Girls At Different Ages

The following are one sentence observations of girls I’ve dated in the past five years sorted by their ages.

19 – Slipped me a pink pill in Club Five and flaked on the third date.

21 – She made a CD mix to play while we ate a home-cooked meal by candlelight — in her husband’s apartment.

23 – Needed zero foreplay.

24 – Smoked pot with me and cried a lot about the magic of being in love.

25 – Fingerbanged her in my car and caught her looking over her shoulder at me after we parted going in opposite directions.

26 – Loved to power shop and fuck standing up and talk about herself.

27 – Required three traditional dates (i.e.: I pay) before putting out.

28 – Argumentative.

29 – Flaky like the 19 year old, but minus the charm and flirtatious banter.

30 – Jumped straight out of bed early on a weekend morning to “accomplish things” after a night of earthshaking sex.

31 – Screwed like a man and talked aloud about the chores she had to do for the day.

32 – Lights off sex interrupted by dispassionate instructions on how to please her.

34 – Showered me with excessive flattery and trolled for same in return.

35 – Left bra on during sex.

Trends… I sees them.

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Witty Banter

There are two types of chicks that give me headaches.

The girl who gets aroused by witty banter. Usually this will go on for hours until she is sufficiently lubricated for sex, and then another three hours after sex to seal the bonding process. Eventually, I give up on girls like this, and turn one eye to the TV while she banters into my exposed ear. 

Please, Witty Banter Woman, get your endless witty banter foreplay with a gay boyfriend (they are known to have the gene for witty banter) and then come back to me for the nonverbal coup de grace. Why do you think hours of verbal sparring, double entendres, and superclever sexual innuendo will get and keep my cock hard? I blew my witty banter load on the first run-up to your pussy, when it mattered. Maybe if you were being oh-so-clever while inserting yankee candles into your pussy I might be motivated to parry your repartee.

The other type is Political Activist Chick. Nothing drains the mood faster than a heated one-way discussion about abortion or George Bush while my hand is sliding up your thigh. Unless you have something truly original to say, I don’t care. You may think arguing over politics is a romantic way to build a connection, but it only makes me want to kick you out in favor of porn. I have learned through hard, annoying experience that 90% of DC girls, especially supposedly smart girls who have graduated from a Seven Sisters college, have retarded political views that parrot whatever happens to be the consensus among their peers. The remaining 10% have rational opinions and are also smart enough to know that it’s not sexy to talk politics.

America took a turn for the worse once single women started voting in droves.

Witty Banter Woman and Political Activist Chick wistfully remind me of one of my Russian ex-gfs who would just sit there and knit or organize her recipe book in between giving me world class hummers. Sometimes she’d spice up our blessedly short convos with a loving Slavic nickname for me (I think it was loving). Her grasp of the nuances and idioms of English were not great so hours of witty banter and political sermonizing were automatically off the table. Not talking keeps the passion burning longer.

Finding the perfect woman is proving to be a chore. Viva sexbots!

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Girls’ Night In

I had the following phone conversation with a girl I was asking out for a third date:

Me: How does Tuesday sound?

Her: Oh no, Thursday is better. Tuesday is no good, that’s girls’ night!

Me: Is this anything like a lesbian orgy?

Her: Ha, no, we get together and do arts and crafts every Tuesday night. We make yarn doilies and have a friendly competition to see who can knit the best. And we drink a few bottles of red wine.

Me: For real?

Her: Yes, it’s fun! It’s not really about the competition, it’s about the bonding.

Me: And the giggling.

Her: Squeals and giggles!

This is a social phenomenon you will never see straight guys doing. I can’t even mentally picture a scenario under which there could be a “boys’ night in” without crossing over to fruitville. There isn’t a guy alive who would postpone a hot date to sit in a semi-circle on pillows in the living room with his buddies one designated night a week to play Uno, do a group pedicure, and bitch about girls. Guys get together to watch the game and sit respectable distances from each other on the couch, but nothing remotely resembling what girls do. The closest I can think of is when fifteen guys in my college dorm all piled into one cramped room to watch a porno and get a mass erection.

Me: So what do you guys talk about?

Her: Family, girl stuff, guys… then we talk about cats.

Girl who talks about cats + one dating checklist bullet point too many = cat lady.

The Girls’ Night In is a peculiar idiosyncracy of the childless late 20- and 30-something yuppie woman who has a library of dating books with titles like “Listen to Your Inner Bitch and Avoid These Men” and a secret stash of glittery tiaras she wears while modeling consignment shop clothes in front of a floor length mirror. Without the constant positive feedback of a supportive environment of close friends and family, women go slowly crazy. Since modern urban living shreds these ancient connections, they get their fix by taking “classes” and inventing ridiculous reasons for getting together with other women over a contrived commonality.

Women need to aimlessly socialize like men need to jerk off. If they don’t, they get their version of blue balls — wild mood swings. The fact that a girl will complain about not meeting any good men and then postpone a date with a guy she really likes to talk excitedly about that guy with her girlfriends at a doily-knitting party on the same night she could be in that guy’s arms making out with him proves that girls are mentally ill and should not be trusted with positions of power.

Conclusion

Different species. Men are more closely related to chimpanzees than they are to women.

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Girlfriend Or Fling? Holiday Edition

It’s a Very Special Christmas Girlfriend or Fling.

This photo looks like an advertisement for Peroni, the Miller Lite of Italian beer, but it is in fact an actual nightclub shot.

Most Northeast Asian girls (Japan, China, Korea) are good girlfriend material.  They are more monogamously inclined than other races of women, save the Finns and Irish.  Ten randomly chosen Asian girls in relationships will have fewer cheaters amongst them than ten randomly chosen girls in relationships from different geographic regions of the world.  Based on this, my initial assessment is that the Asian in this photo has solid girlfriend potential.  However, closer inspection reveals details to the contrary that give pause.  One, the hand draped effortlessly over the guy.  Two, left boob contact with his arm.  Three, forehead to forehead contact.  Four, a slightly forward-thrust pelvic area.  Five, slouching… my unquestionable opinion is that slouchy girls are sexually looser than girls with good posture.  Six, the bedroom eyes… in a nightclub.  Seven, she’s not wearing any breast support.  Those mangos are hanging low on the tree and begging to be plucked.

If this guy is not her boyfriend, (and judging by that hammy look on his face, I’d guess not), then the Asian girl is clearly a fling.

The girl on the right has too much blush on her cheeks which screams dirty little tramp.  As the wisdom of the grandmothers says:  Ladies pinch, whores rouge.  She is showing the bottom row of teeth in her smile, which is a leading indicator of sluttiness.  Her voluminous cleavage reinforces my impression.   Also, she’s allowing the guy to wedge his leg into her crotch.  She’s riding his left leg like a mechanical bull.  Total fling.  Her saving grace might be that she looks like a hapa (half-asian, half-white… wasian) which should help keep her slutty urges in check by the forces of faithfulness.  I like the fact that she is not wearing dangly earrings.  Her minimal accessorizing speaks well of her.  I’d be tempted to give a girl like this a chance to become a member of my stable of regulars except that she looks six months pregnant.  Any girl swollen with that much baby should not be in a nightclub — she should be home learning how to crochet blankets or playing Beethoven to boost her fetus’s IQ.

If she is not pregnant, then she needs to jump on a treadmill instead of going out drinking.  If that is fat, I feel bad for her.  I’ve never seen a girl put weight on like a middle-aged man with a beer gut.  Did she swallow a keg?  If she’s not pregnant, and that is not a beer belly, then the only explanation left is that she is uncomfortably arching her back so her stomach and ass protrude for maximum attention-getting.  Which brings us back to total fling.

I like the guy’s shirt.  I bet he’s saying to her “Heeeeeey, how YOU doin’?”

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Number One Asset

I once had to get rid of a girl for a shallow reason.  It’s a shame, too.  I didn’t want to… she was cute, considerably younger, sweet… but some things are non-negotiable deal killers.  I was finger banging her during foreplay and, because I like the full experience, I brought my fingers up to my nose for a big sniff.

DAMN!  PEW!

Her vaginal odor instantly ruined the mood.  I don’t know what produced it — natural musky scent, yeast infection, old chicken wings — but a foul genital smell is right up there with brandishing an ice pick for making me walk away from sex and finish up later to pics of Lois from Family Guy.

I butched up and endured for as long as I could, but every time we changed positions and her bush passed through my smell zone I got blasted in the face with toxic fumes.  Doing her doggy style I was forced to press her ass cheeks together to keep the odor trapped.  Afterwards, I was afraid to smell anything on me.  I scrubbed my hands like a surgeon prepping for an operation and hours later the stank was still on my fingers.

I spent the next day smelling my own farts to get rid of the memory.  Then I shaved my pubes because I figured there was no way her sticky pungent juices would ever leave my groin.  It was like radical lice therapy.

I like going down on very attractive girls.  But even a Russian 10 would stop me cold in my tracks if her pussy smelled that strongly.  If I can’t go down on her without suppressing a gag and crying like I was peeling onions with a clothespin on my nose she will never be a long term prospect.  I may as well cut my losses.

I had a nightmare that night about being tortured by Central Asian Islamists who forced my face repeatedly into this girl’s snatch while yelling PUSSY IS GREAT! LICK IT DRY! over and over.  They called it beaverboarding.

Here’s Chateau Tip #14, ladies:  Your vagina is your number one asset.  Treat it as such.

Maybe girls can’t smell their own pussies the way we can’t smell our own bad breath.  In that case, it’s the duty of every man to inform his stinky girl she has issues down there.  If she can’t be bothered to fix a problem with her number one asset then that tells me she does not care for my desires as a man.  If she refuses because of a hippie belief in going au naturel then dump her.  Feminist mother earth hippie chicks with unkempt overgrown bushes will never treat you like the king you are.  Selfishness is a major character flaw in women.

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