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Archive for the ‘Girls’ Category

Be A Secks God

Remember Alana Massey? No? Ok, remember the CH evisceration of her? Ah, yes, that does ring a bell. She’s back, but in a different way, providing ugly truth fodder that’s fun for the whole family. Her Twat feed secretly tingles for a suitor who made such an impression on her that she couldn’t help but fondly recall him and announce her fond recollection to the whole world.

Massey writes,

my fave part of this tactic is always showing up in sunglasses and a shit-eating grin like some kind of a goddamn genius.

He got your attention, Alana. And that’s more than can be said for the loser betas “lifting you up” (in SJW-speak) on Tinder.

Boring men who play by the rules are never remembered by women. “Hey, secks?” game may not be eligible for inclusion in the pantheon of great seduction techniques, but it beats “Hi, beautiful, how was your day? ;)” anti-game. (In Alana’s case, this come-on would be a lie in at least one detail.)

Don’t aspire to be an SJW-approved lapdog shell entity. Aspire to be a Hey, Secks man, a Skittles man, a Bring the Movies man, a Birthday Cat man, or a 8===D man. In every generation, women get the men they put out for.

UPDATE

A commenter thinks Massey is the one texting the “Hey, secks?” line. If so, it doesn’t speak well of her SMV. I mean, if you have to request a booty call intervention from a man, you probably don’t have much to offer beyond a few minutes of your discount bin jizz receptacle.

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There’s nothing more comically predictable than stories about chicks doing what they do best: Digging jerks. Reader Waffles passes along a chicks dig jerks anecdote, Double Infinity Plus in a Series.

Just wanted to add this to the “chicks dig jerks” evidence pile. Quite the story. A girl I know recently broke up with her boyfriend and moved out of the place they were sharing because he disliked her dog. He broke her dog’s leg on purpose. I repeat, PURPOSELY BROKE HER DOG’S LEG. She moves out on him and goes back to her apartment which she still had. She proceeds to go on rants about the incident, gets sloppily drunk at a large group gathering, and gets her old boyfriend (the one before the dog leg breaker) to drive over an hour to pick her up. She gets back with the the old bf and he moves into her apartment with her. Flash forward about a week [ed: one week!] and she is posting beach selfies with the dog leg breaker. Apparently she also moved out of her apartment to move back in with him, straight up just leaving the old bf there by himself. LOL

If you had to choose to emulate Skittles Man or Break a Dog Leg Man to win the imperishable loving devotion of a girl, choose Skittles. At least no dog gets hurt, the only innocent, loveable party in the whole sordid spectacle.

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The Chateau has been a destination for Crimson Pill pilgrims a long time, yet confusion about the functioning of the sexual market continues bedeviling a fair number of click-by readers. And not just at CH, but at other ostensibly Realtalk outposts. A recent example of this entrenched ignorance comes from a commenter at Alpha Game, who is under the impression that a woman’s looks are *less* important to marriage-minded men than to fling-favoring men.

It is probably a bit true that men will make some trade offs in favor of intelligence and other factors against looks in a long term partner relative to a short term one.

But that would be like choosing hot but crazy for a weekend but putting for a bit less hot but sane for a wife.

Of course looks are less important in a wife than in a one night stand. But only in a holistic sense. You don’t really care if a one night stand can read or count past 10 without taking her shoes off. You probably would care the mother of your children can.

“Of course” looks are less important in a wife? Da’Fuc? I don’t know how one could hold this opinion when the real world evidence points in the complete opposite direction. Take a tally of all your married male friends. If you’ve been friends a while, you’ll be able to compare their ex-girlfriends to their current wives. I bet nine out of ten of them have wives considerably hotter than the average of their ex-girlfriends.

The reason why this is so is simple: When a man is seeking to settle down with a lifelong lover and mother of his future children, he wants the BEST DEAL HE CAN GET. If he plans to invest everything in one woman, you bet he’ll make sure he’s getting good return on investment.

It’s similar to buying perishable goods versus durable goods. Toilet paper? Yeah, you don’t want it tearing apart in your ass forest, but you won’t care much about the advantages of 10-ply over 9-ply. You’ll buy a good value TP, a brand that’ll do the job but won’t cost more than a decent cheesesteak.

But a more durable good, like a car? You will care about every detail of that purchase — looks, power, efficiency, reliability… “leg” room. You’ll spend a lot more time mulling over your auto options than you will your TP options.

It goes the same with women. A one night stand or a short fling? Sure, you want the hottest girl you can get, but you’ll make sacrifices if she’s good to go. Maybe you allow yourself to tolerate a one point beauty deduction for a two point increase in sexual availability.

But a potential wife… ah, that’s serious business. Now you definitely want the whole package — beauty, youth, femininity, dependability, fidelity, and smarts that are in the ballpark of your own intelligence. Emphasis on beauty and youth.

Christ, people, use your heads. Do you really think the typical man would be LESS concerned about the looks of a woman he’ll be staring at for YEARS?!

Oh, but you know a man who married poorly. Yes, those men exist… they’re called betas with no options. Men with options are VERY discerning about the women they will bless with their full devotion. You can bet that uglier women, fatter women, sluttier women, and crazier single moms have as much, and likely more, trouble finding a marriage-minded man who isn’t a total loser, as charmless beta males with nothing to offer but their wallets and sympathy hugs have finding a merger-minded girl who just wants to have fun.

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Emma Sulkowicz, that psychocunt NB4 who lied about being raped and still carries on as if her lie hadn’t been exposed, is back for more hard shivving (quite literally). She made a porno “””documenting””” her fake, totally made-up ordeal. Reader Pepe alerts the CH audience,

Remember mattress girl? Well, she made a porno *reenacting* her struggles:

http://www.cecinestpasunviol.com/

This woman has unlocked a new level of crazy. Like you can’t be this ugly and crazy at the same time.

Yes, ugly and crazy, that’s one unattractive combo. The upside is that not many men will be tempted to stick their dick in ugly, so they don’t have to worry about sticking it in her crazy either.

From the rape fantasist’s website:

Do not watch this video if your motives would upset me, my desires are unclear to you, or my nuances are indecipherable.

This is a Nimitz Class Attention Whore (and Control Freak; she wants to shove her smelly snatch in men’s faces and sadistically deny their male sexuality by demanding their desexualized consideration). And there’s no doubt she’s the type of chick (there are an uncomfortably large number of them) who gets off dreaming about a rapist having his way with her.

In the past, attention whores of this magnitude would violate only a handful of people’s lives… those closest to them. And they would be discarded once their friends and family caught on to their sickness and gave up showering them with the sympathetic ardor they crave. We see with the rise of the internet and social media that the insufferable attention whore has a new lease on her vampiric, emotion-sucking malevolence. The online world has enabled her like no BFF or doting mother could; it has not created a monster, but turned a monster into a contagion, devouring cultures whole.

America will fall like Rome did, but it will be much quicker, and more cataclysmic, thanks in no small part to social media and the rise of a night army of attention whores.

PS Eskimo.

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What kind of economy do women prop up, and propagate? A reader forwards an unintentionally funny, and portentous, chart.

Women in their 20s, 30s, and beyond flock to nonprofits for work. There are three reasons for this:

1. Women are psychologically much different than men and have a sex-based preference for work in the “helping” and “schoolmarm” industries. If a woman gets to tell you what to do, and also gets to enjoy a sanctimonious glow from the thought that she’s bettering the world, she is a happy clam.

2. Nonprofits are post-scarcity economy work that appeals to people who want to “self-actualize”, the preponderance of these people being women. Profit maximizing and corporate ladder climbing are icky to women, unless that greed and self-aggrandizement occurs in the context of a do-goodism NGO.

3. Nonprofit work requires little to no UGH MATH CLASS IS HARD education or skills. Women have both less mathematical acumen than men (on the whole), and less desire to do work which involves the rigors of logic and maths.

A job that lets a white woman write jargony word salad all day, get paid for it, AND status whore about uplifting Africa’s women and children (men? what men?)? Hole-y twat tingles, sign her up!

Most nonprofits are a waste of human capital. 99% of them do nothing for their causes, or actively harm their clients and the donors duped into believing the equalist PR. The growth of nonprofits — and the rush of women into their ranks — is a hallmark of a pre-implosion empire.

You may think, “Aren’t nonprofits a luxury, and therefore proof that the society which can accommodate them is a wealthy and self-confident society able to afford a grandiose (and futile) amount of charitable giving?”

Yes, but no. Nonprofits are a luxury, but luxuries often foretell coming hardships. Pride cometh before the fall, and so do nonprofits. A tired, self-doubting, enervated culture will, contrary conventional liberal wisdom, often turn en masse to helping outsiders because, one, it has lost the will to enrich itself materially and spiritually and two, turning one’s energies outward can serve as a psychological balm for personal failings. Nonprofit work functions as a kind of palimpsest, underneath the veneer of which we spy scribblings of social unrest.

UPDATE

Reader YIH adds his .01 cents.

Here’s what that $1 you give to ”help the starving children of Africa” (or other
charity) does:
.80 – Fundraising: The phone banks and all those ads (What? You didn’t know those were paid for? LOL)
.10 – Administration: The lawyer (on staff, comes in handy), Accountant (gotta document what comes in and what goes out don’cha know) and the guy (or gal) in the suit behind the desk.
.09 – The costs to transport the ‘aid’ and the ‘aid workers’ plus all needed supplies as well as round-the-clock armed security for them. Not to mention the spokesperson and the cameraman – those ads don’t make themselves y’know!
,01 – That’s how much ‘Starvin’ Marvin’ gets – plus those nice t-shirts telling them that the Seahawks just won their second Super Bowl.

Liberals just have to learn to accept that inequality is a part of the human condition — perhaps a necessary and beneficial part — and…

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It seems hard to believe, immersed as we are currently in a miasma of equalist lies, that there were ever times in America’s rapidly receding past when people shared a generally realistic appraisal of the sexes. But there were. And America’s fruited plains were once populated with Realtalkers. A reader forwards a link to Realtalk, 1920s-style. The subject is “Petting Parties”, which were all the rage during that time.

Soon the lovey-dovey wingdings were popping up all across the country. Southerners sometimes called them necking parties. They were called mushing parties in the West; fussing parties in the Midwest and spooning everywhere, the United Press noted later in 1921. Eventually some flappers began referring to party-petting as snugglepupping.

It’s almost weird to read about a time when America was so culturally unified, and this despite massive waves of Eastern European immigration happening then.

A game-aware nugget of Realtalk is tucked into the story:

“Girls like to be called snuggle-puppies,” one school administrator told the reporter. “They grant the boys liberties. Encourage them to take them and if the young chaps do not, they are called ‘sissies’, ‘poor boobs’ or ‘flat tire.’ ”

Heartiste Poon Commandment XIII: Better to err on the side of too much boldness rather than too little.

The beta male orbiter was known to women long before our time. He was that “sissy” — an apt description — who couldn’t bustamove when it most counted. That 1920s beta male stumbled and fumbled and waited patiently for unmistakeable signals from the girl until she grew bored with him and alighted for a better man who knew how to travel the landscape of her hindbrain.

Related: Fat women were never attractive to men. The “perfect woman”, according to an 1890s leaflet, was slender and feminine, not a hint of fupa or manjaw on her. America the Beautiful, where have ye gone?

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Steve Sailer contemplates the riddle of women and their whoring for handbag status. It’s a worthy topic, because handbags appear to confer no sexual market advantage to women, and yet women spend inordinate time and money acquiring the latest trendy makeup container. “Hey, sexy mama, I noticed your Birkin handbag, and it is turning me on!”… said no straight man ever.

“But, CH…” you ask, “if, as you claim, the sexual market is the one market to rule them all, how do you explain women and handbags?”

Easy there, brosephus. I think the best explanation is the one Steve gave: Women use handbags as a signal they can carry with them everywhere to advertise the alpha male-ness of their husbands/lovers, and the women’s ability to secure commitment from their alpha men. Since most people will presume the burn money for the handbag came from a soulmate wealthy male donor, the pricey handbag serves as a relatively inoffensive proxy for a woman’s own SMV.

Why the connection between alpha males and HSMV women? Because we subconsciously know in our ape-shaped brains that the more attractive a woman, the better able she will be to land herself a high status man who, himself, will have the options open to him to capture the interest of beautiful women.

Why doesn’t the kept woman just flaunt her pretty face and sexy body to send the same signal more directly? Because in the world of alpha males with sexual market options and the women who circle them like hawks, that is a little too threatening to other HSMV women in her social milieu. She risks total social ostracism from other women if she sluts it up beyond the acceptable norm for her group.

I have another theory about women and handbags that parsimoniously bridges their behavior to the primary demands of the sexual market: Handbags are a sort of runaway sexual selection module gone haywire, similar to brawn on men, a secondary sexual display in men that is still attractive to Western women despite the environmental conditions having radically changed so that male muscularity is no longer needed for survival. But some men take it too far, bulking up in the gym well beyond the point of usefulness, and most women don’t have any special preference for men with bloated roid muscles.

The handbag, under the female inverse of this theory, is just an extension of a sexy, hip-hugging cocktail dress and beautifying makeup. The former do increase a woman’s sexual appeal to men, and women, knowing this on a deep limbic level, have evolved to maximize their efforts at improving their appearance. This evolution for female self-beautification has “spun out of orbit”, resulting in the modern predilection for collecting and showcasing feminine accessories like handbags, despite male indifference to them.

***

Philomathean adds some heft to the sexual market primacy theory of female handbag collection,

Handbagism is a signal of aggression females employ to communicate the accumulation of tangible and intangible resources.

This is a good point. Women can be aggressive with one another, but their particular brand of aggression doesn’t make headlines or rouse moral umbrage because it isn’t delivered through fists and projectile weapons. “Handbagism” is aggressive signaling to other women who could be potential poachers of husbands and boyfriends. An expensive handbag is one way a woman intimidates her competition from entering the arena. It says, “Hey, my man is fully committed to me, and deeply in love with me, as you can see by all the stuff he lavishes me with, so you’d be wasting your time trying to seduce him away from me.”

Remember, sexual infidelity is a man’s worst fear, while love and resource infidelity are a woman’s worst fear.

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