Archive for the ‘Girls’ Category

I have remarked that one will see far more fat man-slender cutie couples than the inverse. This REALTRUE observation perfectly accords with sexual market theory: specifically, men place primary importance on women’s looks and women place primary importance on men’s social status and personality (or, less pointedly, holistic importance on each facet of a man’s character).

But libido-projecting male readers remain astounded: how could it be so?

Instead of a dry exegesis on the mechanics of the dating field and women’s evolved romantic preferences, I’ll paraphrase a pithily revealing convo I had with a girl when this subject came up.

SHIV IN FLESH AND STEEL: You know [fat guy X]. His girlfriend is so cute. And thin! He must bring something to the table.


SHIV IN FLESH AND STEEL: {Faux curiosity} Oh yeah?


SHIV IN FLESH AND STEEL: {faux prying} And that makes up for the uncinematic sex?

EXPERIMENTAL GIRL SUBJECT: *laughs* I bet the sex is hot. He probably throws her around like a rag doll.

Yes, for anyone, man or woman, it’s better to be lean than fat. No one of sound mind would argue otherwise. But a fat man with an out-sized personality and bloated self-confidence will easily compensate for his extra pounds. (A fat woman has no such option, because men aren’t wired to see past her blubber to the beauty within.)

Girls have an amazing ability to overlook or rationalize a man’s physical demerits if he has equal or surpassing merits in his non-physical traits. Nothing further needs saying on this topic.

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How rare is female beauty? The answer to this question has yuge implications for the functioning of the sexual market and the average man’s odds of landing himself a cutie-pie. Reader Wrecked ‘Em tries to get a handle on the raw numbers, and cleverly draws a connection to the normal distribution of IQ among humans:

If you take the HB10 scale to generally mean a normal distribution with mean = 5 and standard deviation = 1, it works out reasonably well.

7 = 1 woman in 44
8 = 1 woman in 741
9 = 1 woman in 31,574

With a global female population of 3.52 billion there would be 1,009 “10s” in the world. That’s a reasonable definition of an HB10: “one of the 1,000 most beautiful women in the world”.

Makes an interesting comparison to IQ…

7 = IQ 130
8 = IQ 145 (low bound for “genius”)
9 = IQ 160

Like IQs above 150, at some point it becomes difficult to “test” since IQ and beauty aren’t like horsepower — better to get them together and sort them into a closed-order ranking based on their own opinion of each other.

Let’s assume (justifiably) that the 1-to-10 scale of female beauty predominately applies to under-35 women. Aging has such a deleterious effect on women’s looks that the 1-10 ranking no longer sufficiently captures the over-35 woman’s negative contribution to the normal distribution curve of female beauty. There are so few 7s, let alone 9s and 10s, among women older than 40 that to include them in the data set would dramatically skew the beauty curve to the left side, where the has-beens reside.

Given the above age-adjusted correction, there is still a problem with Wrecked ‘Em’s statistical premise. To wit: If you live in a region with lots of under-30 women who haven’t let themselves bloat into lardasses, you might be surprised to learn that only 1 out of 44 of them qualify as an HB7 (or higher). The reality is different than a normal distribution of female beauty would suggest; there are way more bangable 7s strolling around our urban fertility sinks than 1-in-44. I’d say the number of 7s or higher in any given population of White, under-30, slender* girls is closer to 1-in-5.

What gives? Well, I propose that the female beauty curve for prime fertility women (ages 15 to 25) is right-skewed. That is, if excess adiposity is avoided, a larger share of fertile young women than is inferred under a normal distribution are cute enough to impregnate.

That right skew in fertile female beauty is hard to quantify, but readers are welcome to take a shiv at it. Now you can argue that one man’s 7 is another man’s 5, but the real world evidence refutes you; most men pretty much agree on which women are 7s, which are 9s, and which are LSMV pawns in your master plan to womanize the fuck out of this gay earth.

So we’re left with the problem of graphing the distribution of a primally fertile female sub-population that has more 6s, 7s and 8s in it than a normal distribution would predict. (Although perhaps not many more 9s and 10s; extreme right or left tail rarity isn’t budged that much by an overall skew in the entire demographic.) My guess is that between the ages of 15 and 25, the representation of HB7s is triple what you would find in a perfectly normal distribution of female beauty.

What about the left side of the female beauty curve? Meh, WGAF. But for shits and giggles, gross obesity (but I repeat myself) has clearly increased the ranks of women in the unfuckable 1-3 categories. Regular, height-weight proportionate unattractive girls (plain janes) still exist, but their relative numbers have been crushed (heh) by the growing (heh) class of fat chicks. In a healthy America, say, 10% of women would be 4s; in a super-sized America, only 5% would be 4s because half of the 4s would have gotten fat and demoted themselves to 3s and 2s and “I’d sooner pork an apple pie”s.

Perhaps, then, the Current Year prime fertility female beauty curve looks more like a camel’s double-hump: lots of, ironically, sexually invisible fatties, and enough bangable slender babes to keep men at least partially invested in making a go at it rather than surrendering entirely to Pornhub. As age gathers, the female beauty curve starts to resemble a normal distribution, until a sexual worthlessness inflection point is reached and nearly all the women bunch up on the far left-behind side of the curve.

*Obesity so badly damages women’s SMV that there are wide (heh) swaths of the USA where barely any young women are attractive enough to inspire thoughts of the bang.

PS Comparison of the extreme tails is revealing. My hunch is that the left tail of female looks is longer/fatter than the right tail. If 1-in-30,000 women are 9s, then 1-in-300 are 2s. And this mismatch accords with personal observation. It’s probably a consequence of the sheer number of genetic permutations that have to go right to produce a 9, as opposed to the relatively light demands placed on the God of Biomechanics to produce a 2. (Basically, Nature stops de-bugging her code, and lets the mutational load run havoc.)

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Scanman posits three rules of dating in post-America:

A few gems of sage advice that I will pass on to my sons —

1. If a woman has ever been photographed wearing a crown or tiara on her birthday, she is likely a shit human being.

2. Ditto for any woman who has referred to herself or her friends as a goddess.

3. Women who claim to “love helping people” are invariably manipulative, untrustworthy and usually treat their own family like shit.

I find nothing objectionable in this crib sheet. If you just want a simple guide to girls that requires the least bit of pattern recognizing effort, steering clear of tiara girls, “goddesses”, and avowedly altruistic women is as good as any dating guide you’ll find in laddies mags.

The beauty of Scanman’s rules for red pillers is that following them effectively screens out the worst of the post-America girls: the pathological narcissists and ¡lookatme! attention whores. It also screens out a lot of fatties, because I can’t help but notice a calorically-dense number of broads who wear tiaras and refer to themselves as goddesses are fat fucks.

The last rule might invite skepticism — after all, women as a sex are more empathetic than men and can thus be expected to have stronger urges to “help people” — but understand that there’s a crucial distinction between the typical sappy woman and the virtue signaling SJW urbanette who makes a big show of her altruism. Aggressively empathetic women can be as dangerous as aggressively cold-hearted men. More dangerous, actually, as ruthless men aren’t likely to flood their nations with millions of incompatible mud worlders just for the self-righteousness high.


Commenter chris adds labcoat context to the third rule.

“3. Women who claim to “love helping people” are invariably manipulative, untrustworthy and usually treat their own family like shit.”

There is a scientific explanation for this.

Basically, doing things that are regarded as ‘moral’ makes people feel like they have built up a ‘moral credit’ that they can draw on in the future to offset any immoral behaviour or ‘moral debits’ they engage in.


Nazis by Kraut: A Playful Application of Moral Self-Licensing

Doing something moral gives one a license to do something immoral. This form of moral compensation is called “moral self-licensing”. Interestingly, the moral behavior can take place in another domain than the subsequent immoral behavior. For example, buying eco-friendly products gives one a license to steal. This article is based on the idea that a healthy diet has a moral dimension. As a consequence, consuming a healthy product should give one a license for immoral behavior. This research supports this hypothesis on a playful study. This study shows that drinking sauerkraut juice contributes to a stronger support of Nazi-esque right wing ideology than drinking either nothing or a less-healthy beverage (Nestea).

Avowedly, assertively altruistic women (or women who claim the altruism mantle) are probably sluts with a well-fed rationalization hamster ready to justify their future infidelities.

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Here is a photo of a just-married man with his blushing bride. Did you cringe while looking at it? That’s understandable. Her body language drops at least three clues that this marriage is doomed to roll off the divorce disassembly line.


  1. He’s leaning into her (and her head is arching away from his kiss).
  2. She’s (fake) smiling for the camera, instead of for him.
  3. She’s got the kung-fu take-down grip on his wrist, as if she’s ready to stop his hand from roaming toward her ass.

Those are bad omens for your marriage if your bride is like this woman. Recall an ancient CH maxim (paraphrasing): If a man has to chase a woman’s love, she’ll never relinquish it.

The romantically successful couple reverses the polarity balefully evidenced in the photo above. A marriage destined for many years of reciprocal loving love looks more like the couple in the photo below:


This pic is literally the mirror image of the first photo. The man — Trump — is the one looking at the camera smilingly, his hand smugly occupying the erogenous nook of Melania’s appealing lordosis, and tickling the top of her ass. His torso, like his megashit-eating grin, is swiveled forward-facing. Meanwhile, Melania gazes at him adoringly, pressed unquestioningly into his chest, seemingly oblivious to the photographer in the room. If there is an attention whore here, it’s Trump, not Melania, and that makes all the difference in the world.

To recap:

Chasing man + chased woman: splitsville
Chased man + chasing woman: healthy relationship
Chasing man + chasing woman: unmarried couple in throes of lust
Chased man + chased woman: theoretically possible if both partners are cheating

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An early 30s woman I know through a lover likes to regale friends who will listen with tales of her sordid sex life. (If you want to know what happens to a woman’s vagina if she’s still single by her thirties, think of a flowering rose…mashed into a slab of ground beef.)

One of her adventures included a break-up with a caddish loafer, followed by a two month-long rebound “””boyfriend””” who was dumped one month after her ex-jerkboy sent her a two word text (accompanied by a thumbs up emoji) at 1am: “wut up”. Sometime during her fling with the rebound, she openly stated when he was out of earshot that he wasn’t a serious contender and that little did he know she was fucking her ex-jerkboy on the side (her ardor obviously reignited by his eloquent late-night text). Oh, and to add colorful detail to the story, since she “didn’t have those kinds of feelings” for the rebound boyfriend, she withheld her pussy from him and only permitted mouth and anal access.

To her ex-jerkboy’s credit, he wisely said no to getting back together in a relationship context.

Let me just preface here that the clearest view of women’s true sexual nature is from the vantage point of a man who has gotten “in”, in every sense of the preposition, with a crowd of attractive young women. You will hear, and sometimes see, and occasionally participate in, everything that the average bumbling beta male does not. If observed patterns at the individual level are indicative of general behavior at the societal level, then the view is a disillusioning one indeed for those who nurture a streak of quaint romanticism.

A thought intrudes: What would the sexual market look like if all men, appeasing betas included, had first-hand knowledge of women’s most intimate goings-on? Women have a vested interest in maintaining a quasi-lockdown on unsanitized information about their sexual behavior reaching the mass audience of potential male suitors. But if men had Pussy-vision — that is, if men could see women’s secret world through the cylindrical scope of their vaginas — how would the sexual market change?

Would, say, the rebound man in the story above, if Pussy-vision pinkly illuminated the world of women for him, have continued dating and investing his time and money and energy into this girl who refused him her vagina but gave it freely and furtively and concurrently to an ex who invested nothing in her that didn’t require more than a perfunctory text solicitation?

What about other female behaviors that most men, especially White men, consider distasteful or even depraved and evidence that the woman exhibiting them is unworthy of marriage, or a carton of Skittles on her birthday? How would the typical White man respond if he suddenly knew that the bubbly HR girl he has started dating once shacked up with a black guy who left her with a bruise and an abortion?I’ll cut to the lace.

These rhetorical questions answer themselves. If Pussy-vision were real, the sexual market would change radically, and not to the benefit of women or of society. You’d see a lot more pump and dumping, a lot fewer engagement rings and $40K wedding circuses, and increased market demand for sexbots, virtual reality porn, and libido-numbing interventions.

Alpha males would hesitate more to commit, greater beta males would kick out the last leg of their pussy pedestal and consequently score with more women, lesser beta males would shy from asking girls out even more than they already do, and omega males would, to women’s consternation, become bolder in asking for raunchy sex, not unjustifiably assuming that skanks who have taken it up the pooper on first dates might not have a properly functioning discretion filter.

These would be the immediate effects. Eventually, (if Pussy-vision were real), the wholesale abandonment of men from the LTR and marriage market would drive women’s behaviors in the direction of chasteness, modesty, low partner count, deference to male prerogative, and vulnerable femininity, (and away from mudsharking, you bet your ass). Hmm, not unlike how it used to be prior 1960 or thereabouts.

So, did pre-1960 American men have Pussy-vision? In a way, they did. No, they weren’t seeing the world close-up through women’s vaginas, but the culture was a healthy one that acted as a proxy Pussy-vision instrument, instructing men in the traits and behaviors of women who are worthy of long-term investment. Men didn’t need to spend years in the banging trenches to learn the true nature of women; they had fathers (and mothers!) and friends and institutions teaching them, forthrightly or round-aboutly, the shapely contours and tell-tale demeanor of the marriage-worthy woman.

What has happened since then is the warehousing of Pussy-vision out of sight of the everyday man. In a way, Pussy-vision is real, but now only for a select few alpha lords who have the key to the secret garden and a peen’s-eye-view of unkempt, chaotic, dizzyingly feral female sexuality. For the rest, the culture has not only jettisoned the concept of Pussy-vision, it actively works to promote the opposite of Pussy-vision:


Which would not be such a mentally handicapping thing if women were, in fact, worthy of investment. Beaver-blindness is the benefit of the doubt women receive when they are truly keeping up their end of the bargain: namely, don’t have an N-count that could rival a porn star’s and don’t delude yourself into thinking ass sex is an acceptable virginity-preserving substitute.

But Beaver-blindness is metadeath to the idealistic man living during an era of unrestricted female licentiousness, either as practiced or as imbibed by a go-girl propaganda machine that encourages and glorifies sexual amorphism and the taking on by women of the traditional roles and behaviors normally associated with male sexuality. Beaver-blindness is wilful castration when pussy is liberated from male expectation and discernment. It’s basically telling women, “Do what you will, I have neither the inclination nor the capacity to judge your worth as a lover and a partner in life.”

Naturally, women HATE HATE HATE nonjudgmental men who let them get away with the farm, (even as they tell social scientist surveyors and gullible male feminists the opposite). The only counter to liberated pussy is donning the Pussy-vision goggles and treating women exactly how they allow themselves to be treated. This will improve the enwhitened man’s love life and may, paradoxically, persuade women to reject the liberation of their sex.

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A fairly regular bleat from the woe-is-me contingent of hapless beta male romantic losers who’d rather wallow in self-pity than engage the frightening prospect that deliberate effort can improve one’s sex life, is the recurrent assertion that Game – or any of its organic derivatives – will only work on women who are “already attracted to the man”.

This claim is an indicator that the claimant has either

a. no experience seducing women (as opposed to listening to women talk about other men seducing them, or watching women be seduced by other men), or

b. has had the stroke of luck to land Miss Right early in life, settle down, and thereafter be cursed (or blessed, depending on your POV) to view womankind through snow white-tinted glasses, which act as convenient amplifiers that facilitate the projection of male desire onto female sexuality.

First, a tiny caveat. Yes, there will be a particular woman, and a particular time, when a surge of immediate attraction will be powerful enough to propel her post-haste into a man’s bedroomy embrace. These scenarios exist.

Most times, though, a woman’s journey from meeting to fellating is more labyrinthine, less viscerally certain to occur to one or both parties invested in the hoped-for denouement. As any man who’s shivved a day in his life knows, women aren’t wired in the same way as men. Female arousal oscillates on a spectrum from fleeting curiosity to uncontrollable splooging. Fun fact: In the typical relationship, the men that women are dating or have even married will have begun their courtships, unknowingly for the most part, as nothing more than mildly interesting prospects making no more impression than that of a dim speck on the woman’s heart horizon.

The upshot is that in the sexual market, it’s men who have to work harder, and longer, and smarter, to win the love of a woman. Male desire is a rather simpler proposition; it’s on or off, and the switch is pulled within a second of visual inspection of the woman’s face and body.

The lesson here for the average man is that very few women you meet will be “already attracted” to you, and likewise very few women you meet will be instantly and irretrievably unattracted to you. A woman’s attraction is not a switch; it’s a burner that can burn hotter or colder depending on the skill of the man turning the knob.

The majority of women you will date will have felt a little something from the very beginning, but only a few of those women will reach your bed, if any. Dating is not fucking. Pleasantries are not fucking. Kissing is not fucking. Fucking is fucking, and to get there you have to make a woman MORE ATTRACTED to you, which is where the power of Game aka learned charisma, shines brightest, taking you from a dim speck on her heart horizon to a flaming sunRISE announcing a new lay.

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Via reader oldfury, a Chesterfield warning on the dangers of reorienting one’s foremost purpose to the objective of empowering women.

As women are a considerable, or at least a pretty numerous part of company; and as their suffrages go a great way toward establishing a man’s character in the fashionable part of the world (which is of great importance to the fortune and figure he proposes to make in it), it is necessary to please them.

I will therefore, upon this subject, let you into certain Arcana that will be very useful for you to know, but which you must, with the utmost care, conceal and never seem to know.

Women, then, are only children of a larger growth; they have an entertaining tattle, and sometimes wit; but for solid reasoning, good sense, I never knew in my life one that had it, or who reasoned or acted consequentially for four-and-twenty hours together. Some little passion or humor always breaks upon their best resolutions. Their beauty neglected or controverted, their age increased, or their supposed understandings depreciated, instantly kindles their little passions, and overturns any system of consequential conduct, that in their most reasonable moments they might have been capable of forming.

A man of sense only trifles with them, plays with them, humors and flatters them, as he does with a sprightly forward child; but he neither consults them about, nor trusts them with serious matters; though he often makes them believe that he does both; which is the thing in the world that they are proud of; for they love mightily to be dabbling in business (which by the way they always spoil); and being justly distrustful that men in general look upon them in a trifling light, they almost adore that man who talks more seriously to them, and who seems to consult and trust them; I say, who seems; for weak men really do, but wise ones only seem to do it.

-Lord Chesterfield in a letter to his son

Chesterfield here is essentially arguing for restricted female agency, and therefore the necessity to men of wisely shielding women from matters of true importance – like immigration policy – while pretending as if women’s counsel was desired.

Feminine women don’t really desire, as beta males are wont to believe, full egalitarian inclusion in serious business or political decisions. Having it bores them and they often rebel by deciding for changes that subvert the bounty for which they were charged by obsequious, supplicating men to protect and preserve. What women really love is the man who “trifles with them”, but also assuages their fear that their instinctive female predilection for flirtation and little passions won’t be exploited to embarrass them in polite company as frivolities.

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