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Archive for the ‘Girls’ Category

I really thought we had reached Peak Estrogen during the Cuck Menstruation of 2015/16 when Trump ran for President, but these past few days of cucks tearing up the 1st Amendment in their race to condemn self-aware White people for speaking unauthorized opinions on matters already settled by the Ministry of Untruth has been like free-basing soy and birth control pills. Pure estrus.

Rushing headlong to condemn violators of sclerotic social norms is such a womanly thing to do, but nobody ever confused GOP cucks for real men. McAmnesty, Magic Underwear, Fruitio…these hysterical, treasonous, and authoritarian queens have to be jettisoned from power.

Take a breather, post C’ville. The truth is just starting to dribble out past the Gaystream Media information curators (as usual it looks bad for leftists). When you feel dazed & confused by the swirl of events, ground yourself with the following truths:

1. The Prime Enemy is the media
2. A White majority is self-evidently good
3. Economic nationalism and de-urbanization are necessary correctives
4. Trust Trump. He’s the best friend you’ve got.

PS Trump’s “alt-left” is a linguistic kill shot.

1. isolates, freezes, and polarizes the left
2. easy to remember
3. sidesteps hoary old terms like marxist that normies tune out
4. opaque enough to smear entire left
5. forces Fake News to cover it
6. most crucially, PUTS THE LEFT ON DEFENSE

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The younger, hotter, tighter a girl, the less grateful she is for male attention. She expects it, so when she gets it she’s not grateful, only slightly annoyed that yet again her expectations were met in the most dully predictable manner possible.

This is why it’s counterproductive to compliment girls when they are within the window of maximum nubility (age 15-25). Complimenting a hot babe is an automatic admission against interest; you soil your SMV relative to hers and to the men who don’t compliment her. At her hottest, her ego will never be bigger. A lifetime of poz-facilitated ego stroking will never match the natural ego tumescence she has at her fertile juiciest, when her Bartholin’s sniffy lube engorges not just labial folds but limbic folds.

Telling her in so many words or betrayals of body language that she is a scarce commodity is a tingle killer because you’re not telling her anything she doesn’t already know. She may not be averse to hearing it — if only because a tiny dopamine hit is worth suffering the clumsy proximity of the source — but she won’t be intrigued by the man plying her with compliments. Given enough thirsty betas lavishing her with happy feelz and she’ll come to resent her flatterers; compliments will seem to her assumptions of mutual love she doesn’t share.

Girls are attracted to men who defy their expectations without remorse or apology. The lack of fervid flattery by these men is assumed by a girl to be evidence of confidence in their station and acclimation to endless glowing receptions from women. Non-neediness and disinterest in courting approval is the attitude that drives women crazy with curiosity.

The time in a woman’s life to compliment her is when she has gracefully aged into gratitude (or long before she has matured into ingratitude — little girls need a father’s protective love). A woman who has shed her insta-sex appeal receives fewer genuine compliments from fewer HSMV men. That’s why when bootlicking white knights assert that women are “nice to men who are nice to them”, they are really talking about women past their Peak Allure. (In my observation, suck-up white knights are rarely with hot girls; their treacle can thus be summarized as a long-form exclamation of sour grapes and ego assuaging misattribution).

Can we extrapolate the attraction triggers and dampeners in a 20 year old hottie as operative over the course of her lifetime? Yes, with a caveat. Women never really lose their taste for jerkboys, but they do gain a seasoned (heh) appreciation for the complimenting niceguys they looked past when the looking was good. When women age and their mate choice options dwindle, their willingness to settle for a boring non-asshole beta increases. This is why compliments that once landed with a thud on an HB land like manna from heaven on an FHB (former hot babe).

Lesson: If you want gratitude from women, choose your targets wisely. And tailor your message. Seducing a young hottie? She’ll be grateful if you make her desire you. Chatting asexually with a former hottie? She’ll be grateful if you make her feel desirable again.

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You are about to enter another dimension of the sexual market. A dimension not only of unsightly fat and scolding schoolmarmery, but of repulsive loudmouthed bitterbitches. A journey into a worthless land of self-entitled fat Hillary-loving bitches. Next stop, the Would Not Bang Zone!

Via AutoAdmit, a gem quality thread has coalesced around the story of a fat chick in DC — Jesse Peterson — who was the featured coastal shitlibopolis representative of her swelling species in a Bezos Post Date Lab social experiment designed to prove the pointlessness of pursuing the post-femininity American cow. A couple of AAers put it best,

Date: August 3rd, 2017 9:04 AM
Author: Ozzie Canseco

its incredible how women are all converging to this one horrible personality.

***

Date: August 3rd, 2017 9:06 AM
Author: LTDanCaffey

Titcr.
It’s like all single shrews in major metros are morphing into some hybrid of Sarah Jessica Parker in SitC and the shrew from Eat, Pray, Fuck with some Beyoncé girl power mixed in.

A little background on Jesse, emeritus rider of the cock carousel, courtesy of her About page at her dating blog (aka the place she collates the wretchedness of her personality and will come to regret when she’s 40, unmarried, and sleeping with a small army of cats nestled in her gut folds):

Hey betches,

Welcome to Tinder District! I’m so glad you’re here, even though you may not be able to tell through my chronic RBF.

Afeminine? Check.

My name is J. I’m 23 years old, live in Washington, DC, and by day I do management consulting.

Anti-natalist careercunt? Check.

By night (and weekend), however, I’m a serial dater.

Slut, or pretensions to sluttery? Check.

Since I started this blog in July 2015 (when it was ClarendonTinderDiaries.wordpress.com; really rolls of the tongue, right?),

Grandiose self-conception as a dazzling prose stylist belied by horribly dull writing? Check.

I have been on over 100 first dates.

Unloveable? Check.

Two have turned into relationships (thank God those went nowhere),

Allergic to accountability for her decisions? Check.

many were good, several turned into second and even third dates – but that’s not why I’m here. The thing that keeps me coming back is the bad dates – the ones that turn into a story for me to tell my close friends, future grandchildren, and the entire Internet.

Attention whore? Check.

Oh, and the free drinks and meals. Those also keep me coming back.

Low sexual market value chick unable to date anyone but supplicating beta males who eagerly foot her bill for a chance to pork her oinky trough? Check.

So, welcome, readers! I hope you get a laugh, a nugget of useful life advice, or something new to read while at work contemplating quitting your shitty job.

XOXO,
J

And a recent photo of Jesse, for context in which to place her empty try-hard braggadocio:

She’s a 5 without the insulating layer of blubber, a 2 with it.

Sadly, Jesse is not an outlier. The shitlib cities are filled with CUNDTs like herself: totally converged into the technofemcuntyassqueen man-hating spiteborg, committed to spending their prime nubility years hunting elusive alpha males in the urban junglelove, narcissistic to a degree that would have shocked Narcissus, delusional about their sexual and romantic appeal, and more often than not carrying an extra five or fifty pounds.

Is it any wonder American men have stopped “manning up” and taken nuptial (read: financial) responsibility for these ingrate shoggoths? Women, if you struggle to find a man worthy of your curated and well-marbled self-image, look in the mirror and read the reactions of the world outside your dating blog to your crass behavior and shitty personality. 100 dates in one year? That’s not a banner to wave proudly; it’s a red flag that your goods are rotten.

How obnoxious is this bitch? From her Instawhore:

In her words, she had an awful date and hated the man with whom she was paired, yet she still wanted to exploit his graciousness by copping an “appeal deal” with him to rate each other equivalently in the Bezos Post-Op Date Lab story, so that she could continue to look good to her blog audience of aspiring spinsters. Thankfully, our intrepid beta male found an ounce of scrotal juice still circulating in his manhood and rated her lower than the entitled blobster demanded to be rated.

Management consultant Jesse Peterson, 23, describes herself as “just about the friendliest and most outgoing person there is.”

So friendly she hastily pens post-date snarkbait shitting all over the men who buy her drinks.

She also loves working out, bottomless brunch and a slightly dark sense of humor.

Working out => is 40 pounds overweight
Bottomless brunch => boundless bottom
Dark sense of humor => confuses hackneyed sarcasm for humor

I was much more nervous before this date than any Bumble or Tinder date. I’ve been on dates with a few Dans, and all of them were weird.

The fault lies not with the Dans.

We talked about favorite foods — I write a cooking and baking blog.

Avoid unmarried women who are a little too into cooking. That goes double-chinned for women into blogging about cooking.

And I write a dating blog.

If a chick admitted this to me on a first date, I would walk out immediately, no reason given. At the very least, a chick who feels comfortable telling me this doesn’t respect my refined taste in women and unapologetically high standards.

I’m just interested in exploring people and opportunities and dating culture.

Every girl who has told me she’s into “exploring people” was really into exploring herself for the umpteenth time and receiving external validation for it from the people she claims to want to explore. And “opportunities” is just slutspeak for “cockas”.

Dan: I can’t date a vegetarian; I left hungry. I got home and I ordered a turkey leg.

Vegetarian girls are more often fat than thin. That should tell them something, but when the world revolves around them and mirrors are magical devices found only in Harry Potter books, then one could be forgiven for assuming these broads have an intrinsic ability to put 2 and 2 together. Or maybe their concept of vegetarian is “a plate full of greasy fries and a side of pizza”.

I’m not ready for the gawking to end yet. From another dating-is-hell-on-fatties post at her Unloved Fatty blog:

I didn’t particularly care about continuing to talk to Jack, and I also ignore literally all CMB notifications I receive, so I did nothing.

The attention whore loves accumulating dating apps, so she can proudly claim she ignores them all. It would not suffice to simply not have the dating app on the iPhag. She must have it and not have it, grasshopper.

Jack, however, reached out.

“Men want me, they really want me!”

Jack – Want to get margaritas soon?
J – Sure!

So, I sent him my phone number – because anyone who wants to buy me a margarita is a friend of mine.

From its inception, CH has advised men to avoid buying drinks for women. To this day, the advice retains its merit.

It was two full days before I got a message from Jack, but he made up for his tardiness with sweeping romantic apology.
Jack – Hey, this is Jack from that bagel app

Ahh, pure poetry.

Got her attention. (Keep it short and sweet, gentlemen. The ladies love a self-possessed shitlord.)

FYI her blog is filled with those retarded pop culture gifs that women love. They acquire the habit from their gay besties.

We continued talking for a while, including a brief stint in which my friend took over my phone and sent him a long message about the superfood benefits of kale (#bless kale), when our conversation turned to the events we had planned for the weekend.

From the second I saw the ‘Yikes’ I knew something was amiss. But I was unsure what it was at first – did he frown upon the fact that I had not left all signs of neon and tutu back in college? Was he unnerved that I was not spending the weekend reading the latest political novel?

Like most straight men with a T level above 1, he’s disgusted by homosex and by the sassy platitude-spouting libchicks who latch onto the gay glorification gravy train in the hopes of tarting up their social media feeds with more colorful selfies.

All of that would have been better than his response. What do you mean you find it “off-putting”? You are aware you live in a country founded on the right to do all of those things, correct?

“Off-putting” doesn’t mean “deny the right of fag assembly”, you dumb bint.

I pressed on.

She persisted.

Ohhhhhhhh no. OH NO. I considered leaping off the nearest cliff to escape such ignorance.

She would’ve bounced back unscathed.

“inside a social construct decided by other people that doesn’t let you blah blah”…..typical poopytalk from your typical nasty woman. This is why fatties and other undesirable women glom onto social constructivist shitliberalism: the lies provide a handy rationale for explaining away, say, their lack of portion control. The CUNDT’s dating woes are never her fault; it’s always “men” or “douchebags” or “bigots” or “Trump supporters” or “society”.

She then feverishly texts Jack the Shitlord to “put him in his place”, and what she imagines as an epic BTFO of her antagonist just comes across like a butthurt fatty going well out of her way to make some stupid political point lost in the noise of her emotional incontinence.

HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE.

STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

YOU THINK PEOPLE ‘LIKE PLAYING THE VICTIM‘?

LITERALLY GET THE FUCK OUT.

Was Trayvon Martin ‘playing the victim’ when he was killed in an ethnic hate crime?

Surprise, a conformist GoodWhite plays the Saint Trayvon card! Newsflash, fatty, Trayvon pounced on Zimmerman the Hispanic hero and in the commission of his assault and battery received a load of lead in return. Tray Tray got his just desserts.

Were the 49 lives lost in the Orlando Pulse Nightclub massacre ‘playing the victim’ when their lives were unjustly ripped from them in a homophobic hate crime?

Funny, she forgot to mention that the Pulse gayclub killer was a Muslim.

Was I, or any other victim of sexual assault, PLAYING THE FUCKING VICTIM when we were raped, had our self-worth and self-confidence, not to mention ability to trust and, I don’t know, ability to sleep through the night without having a panic attack, STRIPPED FROM US BY A MAN WHO DID NOT KNOW HOW TO TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER?

Ten to one she was never raped.
One hundred to one if she was raped, it was by a black guy.
One thousand to one her conception of “rape” is really an ego-assuaging morning after regret rape rationalization for throwing herself at yet another garbage hour loser.

I was outraged. I would have killed him right then, if my insurance covered it.

The only thing you’re killing fatty is a plate of donuts.

Instead, I put him on blast in the betchiest way I know how

Shitlib women crave putting wrongthinkers “on blast”, and announcing their declared victory in war to whomever will listen. They’re like George Costanza thinking up a comeback zinger well after the moment has passed. It’s pure humiliation gotcha fantasy, a pageantry of the ego without substance, meant in the retelling to impress a very stupid and dull coterie of equally LSMV rejects more accustomed to getting ignored by high quality men than to putting those unattainable men in their places.

– by saying I felt sorry for him, using his own words against him, and turning the tables around.

I’m sure he was utterly destroyed by your lethal psy ops campaign.

He continued to not see the error of his ways and be the literal worst.

Resentful woman unable to convince man to cater to her feelz has literal meltdown in ASCII.

I’m out. I’m done! I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t handle humans or fuckboys or ignorance or Trump or anything that’s not at least 13% ABV or laced with THC.

This is the mewling of a woman who has experienced failure after failure in her search for a boyfriend. Naturally, she blames Trump.

So, fam, if you encounter an ignorant fuckboy along the lines of Jack, just remember that the best solution is to screenshot the conversation and put the entire thing in your Snapchat story and on the internet. Because, friends, it happens to the best of us.

So, fellow cundts, if you encounter a man who won’t tolerate your vapid lib bullshit and grating personality, just remember that the best solution is to publicly broadcast your private conversations with him in the hope that you’ll inspire a chorus of sympathetic losers to cheerlead your self-immolation and validate your desire to humiliate those who won’t feed your egotistical, self-absorbed, status striving herdthink.

The final word on the CUNDT and her species of post-America millennial woman:

they pair up with modern genderless shitlib males and get into those punching bag relationships where the wife is in the driver seat so both of their lives just sort of end up doing donuts, swerving into oncoming traffic, etc. if they have money they end up brunching and biking a lot and talking about global warming and refugees and rescue dogs. the woman becomes mean and haggard and a public nuisance and the man just looks at the floor a lot. looks like hell but tons of men jump right into it early and never reassess.

Good news. The Reassessing has begun. DOTR has a new meaning, and shitlib femcunt fatties will be hardest hit.

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It’s incredible to think that it wasn’t so long ago America was so based, and so full of heritage pride, that the US Navy could release a training film on how to succeed with brunettes (because blondes are apparently easy lays and don’t require much in the way of effort to seduce).

(For whatever reason, the video isn’t linking up in WordPress, so go here to watch.)

The advice given in the Pussy Service Announcement will sound familiar to Chateau Heartiste guests…because it’s basically The 16 Commandments of Poon commissioned for release by the US government, before the levers of power were handed over to (((social constructivists))), SJWs, tranny freaks, and the globohomo bathhouse alliance.

First of all, be late. That’ll show her you’re a busy important person, and you’re not TOO interested in her. Play hard to get…this will make a great first impression.

Game concept: Flip the seduction script. Be the chasee, not the chaser, of girls.

Laugh it off. Apologize? Aw come on, don’t be a square.

Never apologize. Contrition is as little tolerated by women as it is by the leftoid media fuggernaut.

Be masterful. Protective. Grasp her arm firmly and steer her…to the car.

Kino escalation.

Always lead your woman.

Chicks dig it.

Oh, and don’t forget to light your cig with the candle sitting in the middle of your restaurant table.

Make sure you’re seated so you can see what’s going on. Makes for a more interesting evening.

Dread game.

Good stuff. Would recommend, without hesitation.

The twist ending is that this is the dating behavior the US Navy does NOT recommend for finding, meeting, attracting, and marriage-closing mid-20th Century American women. Instead the Navy believes men should aspire to the opposite: chivalrous White Knightery, pedestalizing pussy at every opportunity, and generally being a boring, if polite, beta schlub.

I don’t know if this “ladies first”, pussy pedestalization, “be a gentleman” anti-Game advice worked in 1967 (I doubt it), but it’s interesting that the culture at the time was strongly committed to this view of the dating scene. That tells me either beta males had it very good then and could afford to “be a gentleman” without losing out to sexy cads, or that cads were ascendent and the wider culture was beginning to push gentlemanly courtship as a reaction to a growing threat to cohesive society from sexy ZFG alphas and the women who couldn’t get enough of them.

PS Anyone notice that the man playing the cad in the first part of the video who supposedly demonstrated bad dating protocol is, shall we say, a bit on the dago swarthy side? And that the man playing the “gentleman” is a Whiter shade of pale? Heh.

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Current Year ¡SCIENCE! is continually affirming CH maxims about the sexes, but even old timey trustworthy science, from before the SJW and femcunt infestation warped the scientific method, clairvoyantly strokes the Heartiste ego.

From a 1987 research paper, a finding that should crush the spirits of sex equalists and Game denialists (h/t Mr. Roboto):

Dominance and Heterosexual Attraction

Four experiments examined the relation between behavioral expressions of dominance and the heterosexual attractiveness of males and females. Predictions concerning the relation between dominance and heterosexual attraction were derived from a consideration of sex role norms and from the comparative biological literature. All four experiments indicated an interaction between dominance and sex of target. Dominance behavior increased the attractiveness of males, but had no effect on the attractiveness of females. The third study indicated that the effect did not depend on the sex of the rater or on the sex of those with whom the dominant target interacted. The fourth study showed that the effect was specific to dominance as an independent variable and did not occur for related constructs (aggressive or domineering). This study also found that manipulated dominance enhanced only a male’s sexual attractiveness and not his general Usability. The results were discussed in terms of potential biological and cultural causal mechanisms.

It wasn’t that long ago that scientists were ballsy and fearless exposers of ugly truths. These mid-20th Century studies are a gold mine for realtalk unpolluted by political cowardice and libshit sophistry. 1987 was probably near the last year these brutally shivtastic studies made it past the Narrative enforcers.

Descriptions of traditional female role expectations either omit dominance as a relevant dimension or suggest that low dominance is an aspect of the feminine role. For instance, Broverman, Broverman, Clarkson, Rosenkrantz, and Vogel (1970) found that clinical professionals viewed the healthy woman as submissive and not competitive. The empirical literature on normative behavior for males and females thus suggests that striving for dominance and success (ascending a social hierarchy) is typically demanded of males and is frequently proscribed for females.

Submissive wife, happy life.

Although females do compete for positions in status hierarchies, there is no available evidence to suggest that their achieved dominance or rank is positively related to their attractiveness to males.

This is borne out by personal observation. Mean Girls is orthogonal to female attractiveness to men. Women compete intrasexually primarily as a means of securing social favors from other women when they need them (for example, after childbirth). This is in stark contrast to men, who compete in dominance hierarchies to unlock a higher PUSSY POUNDER achievement level.

I read through the study to see if the authors properly defined what they meant by “dominance”. Luckily, they have: the term as they use it means PSYCHOSOCIAL DOMINANCE, aka GAME, and all that entails, including alpha and beta male body language and conversational nuances. Quote:

Dominance gestures in the performance were derived from criteria published by Mehrabian (1969). In the low-dominance condition, a constant male (CM) is shown seated at a desk in an office. An actor enters the room and chooses a chair near the door approximately 6 ft (2 m) from the desk of the CM. The actor, clutching a sheath of papers, aits in symmetrical posture, leans slightly forward with head partially bowed, and alternately looks down at the floor and up at the CM, During an ensuing discussion, the actor engages in repetitive head nodding and lets the CM engage in longer communications.

In the high-dominance condition, the actor enters, chooses a chair closer to the CM and sits in a relaxed, asymetrical posture. The actor’s hands and legs are relaxed and his body is leaning slightly backward in the chair. During the discussion, the actor produced higher rates of gesturing and lower rates of head nodding than in the low-dominance condition. Identical films were made with actresses playing all roles. Within each sex, the same actor or actress played both dominant and nondominant roles.

Does psychosocial dominance REDUCE female attractiveness to men? It would appear it does, a little at least (and it certainly doesn’t help women with men):

Female target persons in both Experiments 1 and 2 were in a context where dominance was displayed only toward other females. Perhaps a somewhat different picture might have emerged had subjects rated females who were dominant over males, indicating that it is in competition with males where females violate the normative expectations that they be submissive and noncompetitive (Broverman et al., 1970; Broverman, Vogel, Broverman, Clarkson, & Rosenkrantz, 1972), and it is only in this case that their attractiveness suffers. A third experiment was conducted to examine this possibility. […]

If the dominance manipulation had a differential effect on the female target’s attractiveness when she was in competition with men (as opposed to women), this would have shown up as a Sex of Target Person x Dominance x Sex of Opponent interaction. This interaction yielded F values of less than 1 for both variables. The higher order interaction, sex of target person by dominance by sex of opponent by sex of subject, likewise yielded an F of less than 1 for the sexual-attractiveness item and an f[l, 199)= 1.33 for the dating-desirability rating. [ed: see Table 3 at the link]

The fourth experiment in the research paper is the most interesting. It found that psychosocial dominance, but NOT aggressiveness or a domineering attitude (aka try-hard douchebaggery), was the key to increased male sexual attractiveness to women:

Manipulation of the level within the aggressive and domineering cells produced no differential effects on sexual attraction. These factors also did not differentially affect the sexual attractiveness of male and female targets (all F values for Sex x Aggression and Sex x Domineering simple interactions were less than 1).

A different pattern emerged for manipulations of dominance. The main effect of dominance on sexual attractiveness was significant, f{ 1,66) = 8.12, p< .01. This main effect was produced by differences in rated attractiveness of men in high- as opposed to low-dominance conditions. Consistent with the results of Experiments 1 through 3, there was a significant Sex x Dominance interaction, F(l, 66) = 9.79, p < .01, with men rated as more attractive in the high-dominance condition.

Ignoramuses and cunts arguing in bad faith love to assert that Game is about being a try-hard douchebag, but it’s nothing of the sort. Game is about amused mastery, subcommunicated through dominant body language and verbal confidence. Domineering men aren’t master seducers; they’re usually romantically insecure and their self-doubt impels them to try to ham-fistedly control women’s fluid flirtations and feral sexuality, instead of smoothly guide women to a heightened state of arousal.

This next finding should piss off another subset of Game denialists:

Results for the dimension of physical attractiveness were similar to the results for sexual attraction. Neither the aggression nor the domineering factor produced an effect on physical attraction. Level of dominance did, however, influence attributions of physical attraction, F( 1, 69) = 6.62, p< .01, and this main effect was again moderated by an interaction of sex and dominance level, F( 1,69) = 4.42, p< .01. Once again, a test of the simple main effects indicated an effect only for men, who were rated as more physically attractive in the high-dominance condition only, ^1,37)= 12.71,p<.01.

Resident Looks Piller wolfie wept.

So why aren’t all men dominant? Well, for one, status hierarchies only have so much room at the top. Two, there are trade-offs in the race for maximal reproductive fitness:

Manipulation of the level of dominance produced a constellation of personality attributions. In addition to its impact on variables related to sexual attraction, the level of dominance significantly influenced attributions concerning the target’s likability, stability, promiscuity, competence, and social class.

High dominance was found to lower the general likability of the target person, F(l, 64) = 38.7, p < .001. There was neither an effect of sex nor any interaction between dominance and sex on this variable. This result indicates that for men there is a potential trade-off between sexual attractiveness and likability, with high dominance increasing the former but reducing the latter. […]

High dominance led to perceptions of greater promiscuity in the target, /(I, 66) – 10.86, p < .002, with high dominance associated with increased promiscuity. A significant Sex X Level of Magnitude interaction, F{1,66) = 5,36,p < .02, indicated that men were perceived as more promiscuous in the high-dominance condition than were women. […]

To summarize, the following influence of dominance level was observed. High dominance increased the rated sexual attractiveness and physical attractiveness of male targets but had no discernable influence on the sexual or physical attractiveness of female targets. High dominance substantially decreased the likability of both sexes and was associated with increases in the rated stability, competence, promiscuity, and social class of both sexes.

Women are sexually attracted to psychosocially dominant men, even as these men are perceived to be less likable and more promiscuous. So no, femcunts and manginas, promiscuous men do not suffer a sexual market penalty. In fact, the perception of promiscuousness and unlikability may help them score additional notches.

It all goes to the old CH saying, “Don’t listen to what a woman says, watch what she does.” Which includes whom she fucks. Women will tell you they want a likable, chaste man, but their pussies are aching for a dominant, unlikable, promiscuous man.

Wynne-Edwards (1962) and Pfeiffer (1969) have suggested that among humans the ability to impress and win deference from others depends on the sum of many qualities, including strength, skill, determination to achieve superiority, and intelligence.

This sentence is a wet kiss planted right on the Heartiste lips, evoking as it does the seminal CH pinned posts “Dating Market Value Test for men and women” and “The 16 Commandments of Poon”.

The results of our fourth experiment suggest that some of the behaviors that may lead to a high rank do not themselves promote an individual’s attractiveness. Aggressive and domineering tendencies did not increase the sexual attractiveness of either males or females. The covariance analysis suggests that the highest levels of sexual attractiveness should occur when males express dominance without the use of such behaviors.

This research is a veritable PSA for the efficacy of Game (learned charisma).

Furthermore, dominance increases the sexual attractiveness of males but does not produce a general halo effect. Individuals simply described as dominant were assumed to be also aggressive and domineering; they were regarded as less likable and were not desired as spouses.

The first unearthing of the famed “alpha fux, beta bux” principle?

Executive Summary: If you want to bed more women, stop trying to make them like you. Instead, make them desire you.

Denying and obfuscating and suppressing these truths about the nature of the sexes inevitably leads to tragic cases like the women on the following magazine cover. Maybe someone should inform these aging beauties that men aren’t attracted to “sassy, sophisticated, solvent” women.

Where have all the good men gone? Back in their nubile 20s, where these sour grapes spinster cows left them. 54 and “looking for love”. jfc the delusion is unreal.

Psychological projection seems to be a feature of the female brain gone insane. What women desire — male dominance — is mistaken by women for what men desire in them. But men don’t love dominance, or sass, or careerism, or ambition in women. What men love is younger, hotter, tighter. Something which these has-beens lost as a bargaining chip a long time ago. And now they claim the chaps they can get just don’t measure up, which translated from the female hamsterese means the only men willing to fuck them are naggers and LSMV dregs with no standards and no other choice but internet porn. In fact, many dregs would choose the Fap Life before laying with one of these sassy harridans.

Sass is tolerable on a 21 year old vixen. It’s boner death on a 54 year old matron.

Likewise, chasteness and likability are tolerable on a dominant man. But they’re tingle killers on a submissive man.

Dominance is Game and Game is pussy.

And pussy is life everlasting. Amen.

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I love writing about the strangeness I encounter in the dating trenches. Universal principles of female nature are more fun to continually rediscover when they’re embroidered with quirks and hiding under free-bushing skirts.

However, I’ve had to curtail recounting these exploits in a public forum as increasing numbers of Chateau guests have emailed to say they’ve recommended the blog to their sons, and sometimes daughters. When I hear about this in the middle of contemplating another launch of raunch, a feeling comes over me……one I can’t quite describe…..it’s so alien to me…..guilt, yes that’s it. Guilt, mixed with embarrassment. Apparently, I think of the children more than Hillary Clinton’s Cunt Corp does.

But I can’t resist this tale of the tail. So to any parents reading, please usher your children to their radiator shackles.

I girl I dated had a perfumed asshole. She was half-Asian (not the same Asian chick as the one featured in this post). I caught a whiff when she straddled me 69 style to suck me off. Her ass bobbed closer and closer to my nose, and the scent of jasmine (assmine?) wafted pleasantly across my face. Sweetest smelling mini-vag I ever sniffed.

For Lucifer knows what reason, I never bothered to ask why her asshole smelled like perfume. Best explanation I can give is that when I’m in the bone zone I let fleeting and amusing thoughts escape transmission to my tongue, so while I may think it, I never get around to vocalizing it. If it’s a particularly unusual assfectation, it can feel awkward to bring it up. So I enjoy the sensation and the farcical quality of the moment and leave it at that.

Recapping, I wonder now what that hapa’s perfumed asshore meant. I come up with five possibilities.

  1. it’s an inscrutable oriental thing
  2. her asshole was either congenitally very smelly, or she adhered to a higher standard for asshole freshness, and perfuming it helped her live with herself
  3. it was an olfactory invitation to me alone to rectally ravage her (rim jobs are out of the question, jeez people, i’m not a savage)
  4. she was a serial sphincter spritzer, and the jasmine aroma was the equivalent of a sexual history report card. straight As in anal play
  5. she had just had a spicy dog stew

If you have a memorable time with a woman who perfumes her asshole, you’ll think “that’s brisk baby!” and have an immediate compulsion to come to the Chateau to share your glory. We’ll be here with the lights on. Because proctology dies in darkness.

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Reader Jim gives a short field report testifying to the Power of Jerkboy.

Off-topic: A girl I’m seeing on the side just texted me “You have me so wet right now. How is that possible when you’re making fun of me?”

I keep waiting for CH to be proven wrong about something… but it hasn’t happened yet. Girls love jerks.

They sure do. Smartasses. Jerks. Even assholes. Girls love ’em, and the niceguys can only watch in despair from the sidelines (or until said girls reach post-nubility age and suddenly become available to them. heh).

In all the time this ‘umble abode has been running there hasn’t been a single field report come in over the wire that delivered news of Boring Beta Politeness lubing the limbic of a sassy lassie. I’m sure it happens…somewhere…sometime…but it’s a rare event, like an eclipse. You perk up and take notice when you hear of it.

Everything you need to know about women is revealed in their romantic fantasies. Ol’ Reliable and Ol’ Dependable are always MIA from women’s erotic steamscapes. When was the last time you heard of a girl fantasizing about a proper beta pulling a chair out for her? Or paying for her drinks? The absence is telling.

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