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Archive for the ‘Girls’ Category

We lords of love at Le Chateau have explored and endorsed the theme of improving one’s seduction skills through the use of children’s games and phrases. Women, especially the prime nubility hotties, are more like children than they are like men. A despicably un-PC truth, but true nonetheless.

There’s another way the behavior of children holds the key to successfully flirting with grown women. The conversation style that elicits peals of joy from children is pretty similar to the conversation style that elicits squeals of arousal from women.

Allow me. When you talk to a kid, they will react in one of two ways: escalating excitement, or boredom. Kids don’t have a “neutral listening gear” like adult men do. When a kid is excited, he’ll show it. When he’s bored, ditto. And there’s no faster way to bore a kid than indulging in long-winded, detail-oriented replies to the myriad questions with which kids love to bombard adults. It’s not that kids don’t want answers to their burning questions; it’s that they don’t want dry answers that aren’t painted with the brute force rhetoric of the primary colors.

Kids expect short answers because kids have underdeveloped attention spans and a hunger for amusement. Just like women. Therefore, kids, (just like women), will zone out on long explanations. And they will positively engage with pithy, sarcastic jibes that merely brush with a sufficient answer to the questions.

For example, say a child asks you about something unique you’re wearing. The beta male reply would be to dive into a lengthy history behind the artifact which has momentarily caught the child’s eye, boring him to an exasperated facial expression with an answer that might surely be thorough and enlightening but not fun at all. The alpha male reply would be something shorter, sweeter, far more dramatic, and only superficially aligned with the real provenance of the artifact. So instead of the straight answer to the child’s question, the savvy man answer would be something like, “A bullfighter gave it to me as a gift.” Which is a delightfully heart-racing, child- and woman-amusing shorthand for “I found it in a Spanish alley next to a cafe purportedly owned by the mother of a famous bullfighter.”

The drive-by conversational style that wows children is equally effective on the limbic nodes of women’s hindbrains. If you can keep a child’s happily rapt attention, you can do the same to women. Practice, practice, practice.

Related: Owning a dog is training for owning a woman.

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Commenter maldek regurgitates a shopworn belief among a certain set of manospherians concerning the ability of LSMV women to get sex.

Women at 58 – even much worse looking and overweight women – CAN get dates easily.

No they can’t. More on this below.

They can get as much sex as they want easily. Quantity is not a problem.

Yes it is. More on this below.

The problem is, the quality of mate. Dates are from younger guys who can get laid in their own age group or younger so they date older. Or from guys their own age or older who are in one way or the other SMV rejects and have no other options.

Man with options with an SMV of 7 or higher can and prefer to date younger pussy. This hurts the old hotty even more than it hurts the overweight ex-housewife, because she is used to male attention of the 8+ area and now has to decide between low quality flesh and high quality plastic inside of her lady parts. More often than not, its the later.

Look, you don’t need SCIENCE! to tell you that fat, ugly, and old chicks have trouble getting laid. If you enjoy a halfway-respectable social life, you’ll notice time and again that the unattractive girls show up to parties and events alone, and leave alone, no man to escort them home for post-party boffing. It happens so often no one really blinks an eye, because it’s expected. If you DO need SCIENCE!, please consult the CH archives for studies clearly finding that fat chicks have sex less often than slender babes.

In the real world, fatties, fuglies, oldies and, less frequently, super hot sexpot ingenues with a case of BPD, are the ones who never seem to have a boyfriend when they meet up with their social groups. The sexpots are BF-less for a different reason: they play the field so much they’ve forgotten how to identify a quality man worth slowing down for and stashing the crazy in the crawl space.

The SMV hierarchy of “ease of getting laid” looks like this (note that ease of getting laid does not necessarily imply fulfillment of sex opportunities), in descending order of ease:

Alpha females (HB 8s, 9s and 10s)
Super Alpha males
Beta females
Alpha males
Beta males
Omega females
Omega males

Fat, ugly and old women are essentially omega females in the sexual market, and that’s reflected in the fact they have as much, perhaps more, trouble getting laid as do garden variety beta males. In line with what we know about biomechanics and sex differences in reproductive goals, Omega Females are the instant sexual access equivalent of Beta Males. They don’t get sex offers, direct or indirect, as often as prettier girls, and when they do get laid it’s usually with flings who aren’t their first choice and who don’t even feign a promise of commitment to a longer term agreement.

Omega males have it the worst, and can often go years without so much as a whiff of womb flower.

(Note the curiosity that beta females — 4s, 5s, and 6s — have an easier time getting laid than regular alpha males. The cheapness of sperm guarantees that even alpha males have to put a little legwork in to find a willing buyer.)

So while it is true that in general women can get sex easier than can men, in the particulars we see that this truth varies by the sexual marketability of the woman in question, just as it does for men. What we can say with certainty that applies to all men and women is that the curve for women’s “ease of getting laid” is shifted to the rawdog right of the same curve for men. But there are still plenty of women on the left side of their sex-getting curve who languish as insols for uncomfortable lengths of time.

There’s another psychological dynamic that puts the lie to the “ugly girls can get laid whenever they want” mantra. Women simply don’t emotionally or mentally process their ability to get laid the same way men do for themselves. If a fat chick can slum it with a piss-stained bum, that’s no comfort to her ego. Even if she has an easier time getting hobo dick than a similarly LSMV man has getting fatty furrow, that reality won’t resonate with a positive assessment of her self-conception.

Succinctly, women don’t count loser men as validation of their sexual desirability, (just as they don’t count vacation sex or anal sex as points toward their lifetime partner count). A bum willing to fuck a fat chick just won’t register in her brain as evidence that she can get laid whenever she wants. For women, the only men that register as proof positive of their feminine allure are quality men with options who have willingly chosen them over others, instead of having been chosen because the woman was desperate.

Some manosphere types (and a lot of bitterbitch feminists) forget this because, just like feminists, they frequently dupe themselves into projecting their male sensibilities onto women. That never works. Notch count, and the ability to inflate it, has a different meaning for men and women. However, their wrongness on this subject does spring from a premise with a small kernel of truth: ultimately, sex-getting comparisons between men and women are inherently flawed, because women are, barring exceptions, the receiving sex, and men are the achieving sex. Women wait to receive the sex of a bold sex-getting man emotionally judged worthy of their reception, while men are moved to action to achieve the sex of a beautiful sex-receiving woman penilely judged worthy of their injection.

Because of this intractable psychological and behavioral difference between the sexes, it’s difficult to say with precision that this man and that woman have equal capabilities to easily get laid. The man may have a shy personality or religious feeling that limits his easy sex opportunities, and the woman may be surrounded by timid men who incidentally limit her easy sex opportunities. For this reason, the evidence that fat chicks can’t get laid easily is even more damning than at first blush, given that they have to betray their native womanhood and allow emotional distress into their lives when they chase after men to get the sex they aren’t getting by waiting around passively for a man to approach them unsolicited.

In the big picture, though, the Thirsty Beta Male = Thirsty Omega Female formulation is a useful shorthand. Refer to this post the next time some butthurt blowhard goes on at length about how women have it so great because even the ugly ones can get sex on demand.

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There are developments in the Orlando muslim fanatic mass shooting that won’t surprise Chateau guests. Omar Mateen’s second wife, Noor Zahi Salman (American as apple pie), knew about his plans to shoot up the Pulse anal playground, excuse me, nightclub, and declined to tell authorities. She basically covered for Omar, and could be charged as an accessory to murder.

The lessons are as old as time. Muslims, especially from the Middle East and Central Asia, are extremely inbred and clannish. When one muslim goes on a killing spree for allah, you can bet that his immediate and extended family silently acquiesced and probably even supported his violent intentions. This is a sort of tribal wagon-circling and abetting you won’t find too often among Whites of Northwest European descent. It’s confirmation of Donald J. Trumpening’s sensible position that the families of jihadis should be targeted for kebab removal.

The second lesson is ripped straight from the pages of the CH Philosophes. Chicks dig jerks, especially cute chicks in the prime of their fertility who could have non-jerks if they desired them. The allure of the alpha male — note I did not say admirable man — over women is unmissable. Even a brown, ISIS-pledging son of weirdo immigrants with a possible history of downlow sexcapades can cast a spell over women who should know better. Is anyone who’s lived a day in his life among the fairer sex shocked that Noor Salman would swooningly swim in the wake of her psychopath husband’s plans to reach his 72 goats? History is replete with female accomplices of alpha male killers whose charms could not be resisted.

Lest it go under-reported, Omar’s first wife is a true hottie, and he has kids from multiple women. ALPHA. And if you don’t like it, don’t blame the messenger. Blame the massengil.

Meanwhile, a beta male has six white roses instead of twelve red roses delivered to his wife on their anniversary, and she nags him for the oversight and closes her legs for six months.

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Sharon Stone is a long way from her star turn in the movie Basic Instinct as a femme fatale who flashes her vaj during an interrogation. Thirty years on, paying audiences don’t want to see her vagina anymore. And, if the bitterness and sour grapes that drip from this recent interview with Stone are any indication, not many quality men in her real life want to see her vagina either.

After two divorces and decades in the business, Sharon Stone isn’t looking for a casual romance.

How convenient.

The 58-year-old actress opened up to AARP magazine about the effects of aging on both her personal and professional life.

“Obviously it’s pretty easy to get a date,” she said. “But to me, my life is so full. I don’t want to take time out to just go on a date, or to just have sex with a stranger.”

Translating from the hamsterese: “There’s a whole world between ‘sex with a stranger’ and involuntary solitude, but I can’t access it because obviously it’s pretty hard to get a date with a man who doesn’t eat his own boogers as a woman over 50.”

“At this point, I get more satisfaction – physically, spiritually, emotionally – from a smile, a laugh, a warm conversation or a really sexy look,” she told the magazine. “You know the way a man can look at you? Where you know he really sees you? I don’t want to be with someone unless it’s like that.”

The above is what age-related low libido looks like in words.

The aging beauty claims to seek romantic perfection as an ego emollient to avoid the crushing reality that imperfect romance isn’t even an option for her anymore.

Why pick on Sharon? Isn’t her personal torment enough punishment? The problem is that, unlike most aging women who must nurse their fantasies and shill their platitudes in private or to a small audience of immediate family and close friends who know better, Stone has a public platform to spread her lies to impressionable younger women who can’t see through the bravado to the sexual market rejection hurt underneath. At the margins, some younger women could be convinced, to their detriment, by Stone’s false pride that playing the field until late middle age is a viable route to life happiness, instead of what it really will be: a big mistake.

Making an example of Stone is a lesson for the others to avoid the same lonely fate. Prime fertility women need to know with the utmost seriousness that it will NOT be easy for them to get a date at age 58, with ANY man, and an old lady saying otherwise is blowing smoke up their skirts. Platitudes are cute when no one really believes them, but they’re downright malevolent when asserted with righteous authority as truth.

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On my travels to the four corners of the globe, I’ve noticed something very telling about the casual fashion choices White women make within different contexts. Yoga pants, as most of you know, have been staples of the White woman wardrobe for years. Basically, yoga pants are underwear, worn in public. Most styles are extremely tight, some have thigh cuts that are see-through, and all display the camel toe in its full glory, leaving little to the imagination. A few styles cut a crevice so deep in the ass cheeks you can just make out the rusty starfish.

So yoga pants are the striver class-approved slut outfit for SWPL women who want to flaunt their sexy bodies and then bitch about beta males, who have the gall to possess functioning libidos, ogling them. See, proles and SWPL ladies are more alike than not; their goals are the same, but they choose to achieve those goals via different pathways of expression.

Anyhow, to the chewy center bursting with Bartholin’s flavor. In the blacker neighborhoods — the ones gentrifying but still menacing enough to put a pep in the step of Whites who venture out after 7pm or have to walk past throngs of friendly “teens” — you will rarely see White women in yoga pants. They are more conservatively dressed. Jeans are common. Leggings with a long-ish dress or skirt over them are also common. In the heat, shorts are tasteful; no underbutt. I’m talking about SWPL White women here; the ones with mid-paying jobs, sterling Women’s Studies credentials, and big brains they drown in mimosa juice. I’m not talking about the mudshark dregs with the tattoos and needle marks.

In contrast, in the Whitest huetopias, the skin-tight, labia-compressing yoga pants are everywhere. Where da sluttily-dressed White women at? In White neighborhoods. What’s going on here?

I have a thought. Striver White women soaked in a lifetime of feminist tankgrrl indoctrination dress to attract alpha males (while having to deal with the risk of sending the wrong advertising signal to beta males), and they dress to flaunt the power inherent in their number one asset (their figures, culminating to a point at the mons pubis). In White neighborhoods filled with hirsute hipster goons concealing weak jawlines, White women feel unrestricted freedom to flaunt their creases and cracks. This freedom makes them power-drunk, and they love the torment (or thought of it) that they can cause to erupt in the silent skullcases of fearful beta males ogling them from a safe distance.

In the blacker zones, this strategy doesn’t work. Way too risky. Black-on-White women rape is epidemic (leftie White women know this even though they’d never admit it). A darkpool of dindu nuffins loitering on a street corner, veins coursing with the liberating elixir of low impulse control, will not let a yoga pants sloot, with looks that shame the mammoth black beasts the brothers are used to boffing, walk by unmolested. One thing blacks don’t do: cast sidelong, shy glances from a distance while pretending not to notice the lingerie show strutting down the street. They will let a slutty White women know, in so many jungly hoots and howls, that her goods are the sheeeeiit, and they intend to sample them.

Naturally, there will be no White hipsters to white knight for her. And justifiably so. What noodle-arm would risk a five-on-one swarm because he stood up for the honor of some cunty careerist feminist White woman who thought it would be a good idea to display the contours of her vagina to the Congo line?

This, of course, scares feminist White women. Scares them enough that they shelve the yoga pants in favor of more modest attire when blacks are a significant part of the outdoors scenery. Then, in their spite and resentment and bitterness at having to concede the core reactor of their female power to a stronger force (naggers), they will go home and spew a river of Tumblrrhea about misogynist, racist White guys who oppress the POC.

One solution to this impasse: White beta males can start hitting on yoga panties and make them pay at least a small psychic cost for their skanky exhibitionism. The results of shifting White women’s expectation bias are a positive development for White men: Either a more chaste White womanhood emerges that defers as obsequiously to White men as to Machete-Americans, or White betas start scoring more poon which boosts their confidence and swagger and thereby coaxes some respect from the SWPL White women who for now can only spare their respect for the urban orcs that forcefully extract it from them.

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Female suffrage was a big mistake, part infinity in a series.

Austria had an election recently, pitting a nationalist, immigration restrictionist patriot (Hofer) against a globalist, open borders nutjob (Van der Bellen). The vote results confirm a pattern seen all over the Western world: White women are voting in the shitlib traitors who will drown White nations in a polluted sea of third world misery.

hofermen

Men invade, women invite. Right now, White women — especially over-educated White women — have the West’s power structures by the balls, gleefully cutting them off and handing them to migrants, invaders, refugees and general admission Diversity for display in their conquerors’ trophy cases. White men have responded by… well, until the Trumpening struck fear in the hearts of the West’s enemies, throwing up their hands and retreating to pr0n, opioids, and video games.

Trump is the West’s last, best, chance to turn this thing around. If TheCunt wins, it’s GAME OVER for America as we have known her.

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A reader worthy of wielding the obsidian Chateau shiv sends a screen cap of his Tinder response to a single mom-by-choice. The lols are strong (and frequent) in this one. (Reader’s Twatter handle is @FUSigma.)

How to teach cause-and-effect to Millennial Tinderellas & impose sanctions on single mommery:

(It’s especially effective if it’s done immediately, so that the reason is obvious.)

singlemomsand

consequences

A few thoughts:

First, this reader’s Game, however little of it he revealed here, is tight. He promptly starts off with a qualifying question, to which the single-mom-by-choice eagerly feels the urge to defend her skankly honor. The quickest seductions occur when the woman is thrown back in the defensive crouch. In fact, the line “So how normal are you?” could legitimately serve as an effective, all-purpose opener. Don’t even bother with the “hi”, just stroll up and drop that hamster nuke at ground zero. It’ll get laughs from the cool, self-confident (read: thin and cute) women, and that’s practically the same as foreplay.

Second, I commend the sly follow-up leading question; not “are you divorced?” (which can trigger an offended rebuttal), but “how long have you been divorced?” This is assume-the-slut Game, and she couldn’t resist correcting his assumption.

Third, this woman is weaponized American Whore, marinated in decades of feminist cunt indoctrination. Her answer — “I’ve never been married lol” — indicates a confidence with, or an obliviousness to, how she’ll be received by men for admitting she shat out a bastard with a fly-by-night jerkboy. She thinks men will praise her. And why does she think men will praise her shitty life choices? Because she probably has experience on Tinder stringing along thirsty beta and omega pre-op Millennial males to treat her nicely and boost her ego major, in return for a fraction of the sex she lavished in one night on her sperm donor.

Fourth, notice all the “lol”s Alayna scatters throughout her banter. This is a tell-tale verbal tic that hints at the desperation and self-doubt lurking underneath her tough skank facade. Insincere LOLs are an attempt to coax intimacy, and a conversational bonding, that doesn’t yet exist. Beta males do it all the time (which is why  they fail). The scattershot LOL is also a ploy to distract someone from keying in on the LOLyer’s personal flaws (which in this case is the single mommery and Samsonite sprog).

Finally, my opinion is that the best message shiv to deliver single moms-by-choice is the pump-and-dump. Leading her on to get what you want out of her — a quick and dirty no muss no fuss lay while avoiding tripping over her kid’s toys on the way to the bedroom, and then ghosting — will leave bloodier stigmata on her soul than the curt “Unmatch”. The problem is that very few men can pull off this cold-hearted maneuver without getting physiologically attached to the pussy and returning repeatedly to that over-used well, because very few men are alpha males accustomed to living with the knowledge of endless sexual market options. Therefore, an alternative special lesson to teach the feminist-brainwashed squadrons of stupidly proud single moms is what FUSigma did here: the rhetorical pump-and-dump.

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