Crazy American Women Are Getting Crazier

A very homely, urbanely decayed spinster has taken photographs of herself posed with male and child mannequins, presumably as some sort of statement on the present condition of her bifurcated ego.

If you thought 21st Century American women have plumbed the depths of crazy, you’d be wrong. There’s totes crazy left in those desiccated wombs and cock-ravaged holes where their feminine hearts used to reside. Expect to see a plague of crazy visited upon the women of the West, as the modern diversity industrial complex and no-holds-barred sexual market drives the wedge deeper between their mothering and materialistic desires. We have only begun to bear witness to a total meltdown of the American woman’s psyche.

My advice to American men: If you didn’t get lucky and find yourself a sane, feminine American woman before this late-stage twisted empire in rapid decay corrupted her, head overseas. You’ve got to know when to hold an American woman, and know when to fold her. And right now, she’s coming up 2-7 off-suit.

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Charmless Broad Unintentionally Submits List Of Excellent Negs

At yet another internet portal leading to a giant flapping angry vagina, a bitchy woman reveals, unintentionally, hilariously, a list of 22 excellent negs, teases, challenges, and disqualifications that would work very well as pick-up tactics. She begins,

Don’t say any of these phrases to a girl. In fact, don’t even think them around girls. If you do, be prepared for the wrath.

What follows is not so much “the wrath” as a bandwidth-eating mess of GIFs which she uses as a crutch to compensate for her total absence of a sense of humor. Like other bishes of her kind, you can properly assume that when a blogger bish gets all wound up with no where logical to go, she’s recently been dumped by an aloof alpha lover and is trying to assuage her butthurt ego by pretending it was his lack of betaboy politesse that really caused the breakup. This is never more apparent than when the limbically bruised bish logs online to vent her spleen about a laundry list of supposed horribly inconsiderate alpha male habits that… coincidentally!… every man she’s ever banged and prayed would become her long term boyfriend exhibited in her company.

Here’s her list, minus her vapid snark. You tell me if you don’t think these are the sorts of lines that natural womanizers employ with impunity.

1.”You look really tired.”

Tingles are born in the defensive crouch.

2. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”

This is a great opener, especially if paired with a long pregnant pause, followed by some silly construct, like “Don’t take this the wrong way, but……….. paper or plastic?”

3. “You remind me of my mom.”

Fantastic neg. Is this a bad thing, or a good thing? It’s not like you think ill of your own mother.

4. “Are you on your period?”

This is a version of “nuke the hamster from orbit” game. “Are you on your period?…. Because I heard that girls who drink gin and tonics are flowing like the Nile.”

5. “Are you wearing that?”

This line provides a good conversation thread break to what you think would look good on her.

6. “You might be able to fit into this.”

Spin, hamster, spin.

7. “Your sister is so hot!”

Neg. Is she chopped liver by comparison, or does hotness run in her family?

8.  “You have a really pretty face.”

This is what the bish wrote: Just my face? What, you made it past my neck and decided that the rest of me was hideous? And that, gentlemen, is exactly what a tight neg is supposed to accomplish.

9. “Your hair looks way better (shorter, darker, longer, up, etc.).”

Chicks dig a judgmental man. Why? Because it means he can afford to be judgmental.

10. “You’re still hungry?”

#FatShamingForever. Nip that Jabba wannabe in the bud.

11. “Why are you freaking out?”

This tactic is less effective within the firm shell of a relationship than it is when unloaded during the dating period. All I can say is that if you have a girlfriend who freaks out a lot, you’re better off telling her to stop than asking her why she won’t stop.

12. “Didn’t you wear that last week?”

Related: Classic PUA neg: “Great dress. It must be popular. I saw two girls wearing it last week.”

13. “You ask a lot of questions.”

This line is very effective when delivered on a first or second date. It immediately imbues you with an air of mystery while insinuating that the girl is so into you she can’t help but be curious.

14. “I don’t know if I trust your cooking.”

Great challenge that can lead to a funny conversation.

15. “It’s not you; it’s me.”

If a man says this nowadays, he’s obviously being ironic. Or a mischievous asshole. Translation: He doesn’t care what you think of the line.

16. “Is that your real hair?”

Neg. Chicks will claim it’s offensive, but their muff moistening belies their words.

17. “Don’t be mad; I was just kidding!”

This is actually the one line on the list that men should avoid saying. Not because it’ll make the girl mad, but because it’s supplicating and unattractive.

18. “Are you sick?”

If a girl gets this line a lot, she may want to see a doctor.

19. “You’re crazy.”

Challenging a girl to prove she’s not crazy is liable to make her even crazier… thinking about you.

20. “You have a lot of feelings.”

😆 Love the ambiguity.

21. “Calm down.”

Sean Connery knows how to calm a woman down.

22. “How much do you weigh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m curious. You have the body for a bobsledder.”

“What does that mean?!”

“Hey, bobsledders are HOT. Do you have a problem with bobsledders? My beloved grandmother was a bobsledder, and she was CHOICE back in her day.”

***

Programming note: It’s a good time to reflect how fantastically obnoxious American women have become. Ladies, if you’re reading, a helpful tip: You have to work to please men as men work to please women. Somewhere along the way, a fat lot of you forgot that simple truth, thinking that the world, and the world’s men, owe you something for nothing. Worse, owe you for acting like roaring cunts. Rest assured, reality will set you right in short order.

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New York Beta Times Stumbles On Chateau Heartiste Truth, Mass Hysteria Ensues

A year late and a neural synapse short, the New York Beta Times has stumbled upon a dusty CH tome and (re)discovered an obvious fact of the sexes: Domestic servitude makes a man undesirable in the eyes and loins of his woman.

A study called “Egalitarianism, Housework and Sexual Frequency in Marriage,” which appeared in The American Sociological Review last year, surprised many, precisely because it went against the logical assumption that as marriages improve by becoming more equal, the sex in these marriages will improve, too. Instead, it found that when men did certain kinds of chores around the house, couples had less sex. Specifically, if men did all of what the researchers characterized as feminine chores like folding laundry, cooking or vacuuming — the kinds of things many women say they want their husbands to do — then couples had sex 1.5 fewer times per month than those with husbands who did what were considered masculine chores, like taking out the trash or fixing the car. It wasn’t just the frequency that was affected, either — at least for the wives. The more traditional the division of labor, meaning the greater the husband’s share of masculine chores compared with feminine ones, the greater his wife’s reported sexual satisfaction.

This news so shocked the NYBTimes readership that the high IQ assembled emptied their bowels en masse and vaulted the article to #1 most-emailed. In a den of liars, a simple truth is meme-king. Quoting the CH bastion of enlightenment,

When men are men and women are women, the sex is more frequent. And probably hotter, too. When men are scalzied manboobs and women are manjawed feminists, the bedroom is an arid wasteland of dashed passion.

Sexual polarity — the primal force that adheres the cosmic cock to the celestial snatch — is the truth of truths that belies every feminist assertion ever made in the history of that insipid, leprotic ideology. May the losers of the world quake and fall to their knees before its divine directive.

You may now take a moment to ponder what terrible, horrible, no good, very bad truths the high priests of leftoidism will scare themselves into noticing next. Down the hall, second door on the right… what’s that you’ve found? Biological race differences? Good God, man! Brace yourself against something sturdy! Third floor, door at the end of the hall… women love badboys? Lawdy it’s another breathtaking nugget of common sense! You’ve just loaded your diaper. There there, dear.

Let them have their circus act. Whatever they need to keep those UES cocktail party invites flowing, and their naughty thoughts checked before their self-admiration is wrecked. It’s all fun and games unless $$$trillions$$$ are wasted on turning their self-medicating lies into public policy. Woops.

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Overheard In [Redacted]

Out of their sight but not my earshot, I overheard the following conversation between two late 20s-early 30s SWPL girls giggling about a man one of the girls recently dated.

***

“Did you check him out?”

“I googled him… got his accounts… {unintelligible}”

[ed: silly me, thinking her question meant to ask if she looked at him before meeting.]

“His accounts?”

“Yeah, you know. Facebook, LinkedIn…Instagram… thank god he didn’t have a Tumblr, as far as I could tell.”

“You should probably check those cheater sites too. You know the ones?”

“I did! I tried those… lol… but there aren’t enough women participating yet.”

“So what did you find?”

“Oh wow, a lot of douchy pictures of him at parties with skanks.”

“Gross.”

“But at least he doesn’t have love children… {unintelligible}.”

“Right!”

“Unless he’s hiding them, but I feel like it would be tough to hide secret kids.”

“I dunno, I dated this guy once who had a son, and I didn’t find out until three months later.”

“Except for the stupid photos…oh yeah, and the creepy military history stuff he collects… he seemed all right.”

“Did you go out with him?”

“Yeah. But he said something weird, which makes me wonder.”

“What?”

“He said I’d make a good event planner for bachelorette parties.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I asked him. He said it was my upbeat vibe, or whatever. He said I had the personality to manage a lot of high maintenance girls. Can you believe that!”

“Oookay.”

“But the thing is, I was at a bachelorette party recently. For my friend. He must have saw the pictures on Facebook. I was wondering the whole time if he was checking out my friends. Like, if we didn’t work out, he’d call one of them up?”

“lol… that’s crazy creeper.”

“Eh…. it’s not a huuuge deal.”

“I guess you didn’t see him again.”

“No, we’ve been on three dates. He’s out there, but kind of funny. Thank god he hasn’t talked about any military stuff.”

***

Folks, you simply cannot make up the utter lack of awareness and pathological solipsism exhibited by today’s modern Western woman. It’s like if you threw a woman into solitary confinement, she would claim the world was banging on the cage door to get in and join her.

The lesson, as if it needed to be stated, is that you can expertly game the post-modern dating market by seeding the online world with self-glorifying disinformation. That is, if you choose to have an online presence. Women may cast a suspicious eye at massive online DHVs, but the power of social proof to redound to a man’s benefit is not a trivial thing; if asked, she’ll express disbelief in your sexyman antics but a part of her inner world will want to believe.

Also, don’t fear the douche. You can be all the douche you wanna be, skanks draped over your arms with a wall of duckbill mouths trumpeting your greatness, and women will come running to discover the “good man” underneath. But if you show the good man right away you’ll get a pat on the shoulder and a bored look.

Your other option is zero net presence. ZNP is the safe alternative, and it will certainly stoke curiosity in women in this day and age of pajama-concocted character story lines uploaded to social media megacorp spy machines. But it will also invite more questions than you may be comfortable batting away. If you prefer to go more with the cultural flow, you’ll have to manage your online presence. Welcome to the age of endless self marketing.

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Screwing With Girlfriends And Their Exes

DragonfromCY writes,

Urgent advice requested, there’s an opportunity for mischief in outing a liar. Bare-bones summary: 6 months dating a flaming s–t (far too long, I know, but the sex is great), going to a big bday party with her tomorrow.

She says there are no exes coming and she hasn’t hooked up with any of the men who are gonna be there–but from a quick perusal of her computer it’s clear she’s f—d at least one of them (a few weeks before meeting me), a guy who has a girlfriend (and cheated on her with my s–t girlfriend) so it’s like their dirty little secret. “This is between me and you, right?” he wrote to her, when she offered him “a ride”. She still keeps in touch with him, texting him stuff like “hey dude what’s going on with you” etc. That to me was the death knell of our hooking up–I don’t even want her as a f-buddy. She lied that she didn’t keep in touch with exes.

The guy will most likely be at the party with his girlfriend, and I’ll be introduced to him. I’d like to amuse myself by watching her hamster spin. I want to dump her soon. I might even wink at the guy and insinuate subtly that I know. Any advice on how to f–k with her/his head? For fun of course!

You can safely assume any girl who keeps in serious contact with an ex is still having sex with him, and then act accordingly. If you’re right, you dump a cheater. If you’re wrong, you dump a drama queen who loves to mentally cheat. Win-win.

Exes should be treated like vaporware: You can let people know you have them, but beyond that, they don’t exist. This holds for men and women, but for different reasons. It’s difficult for men to be “””friends””” with exes because nearly every man retains a desire to tap that ass one more time. That feeling won’t go away until the day he sees that his ex has gone post-Wall. Unfortunately for most men, exes don’t want sex with them. This is because women initiate the majority of relationship break-ups. So being a “””friend””” with a female ex is apt to lead to psychological torment and beta orbiting blue balls for non-alpha men.

Women don’t necessarily want another go at exes, but of the exes they’ll continue contacting it’s a good bet they’re thinking of extracockicular activity. Therefore, regard with a wary eye any woman you’re dating who claims to be on exceedingly friendly terms with an ex.

The rule for men in relationships: Contact with an ex should continue only if either of these two conditions is met:

1. You know the ex still wants you, and sex-on-the-side is logistically favorable.

2. You have children with the ex.

The rule for women in relationships: There should be no contact with any exes, unless the ex is John Scalzi and thus presents no sexual threat. Or, like with men, your ex and you share children.

Now that we know the rules of the game, let’s attend to the reader’s question.

First, you’re right to dump this girl. She’s got the red flags of whoredom planted in every orifice, lying being the most obvious tell of her possible present and certain future infidelity. But a perfunctory dumping is just so… anti-climactic. You want more bang for your headfuck. Remember, your beef isn’t with your girlfriend’s ex as much as it is with your girlfriend, so target your firepower on her. As the sexual gatekeepers, women should always be held the more responsible party for any illicit dalliances they undertake.

(I know that last line stuck in feminist craw. Because it’s true.)

What you want to avoid is a “let’s you and him fight” situation where your girlfriend fortuitously gets to enjoy two men blustering and posturing for her tawdry benefit. That means don’t aggressively confront her ex. Here’s my suggestion:

When you’re introduced to the ex, lead with, “I’ve heard so much about you.” Doesn’t matter if it’s true. (It’s better if false.) Watch your girlfriend’s reaction. If she hadn’t told you anything about him, she’ll become perceptibly uncomfortable. Savor these few seconds with a smile so broad she’ll think you’re guarding a Fort Knox stash of secrets about her.

Nervous chit chat will follow. Lean in like you’re about to tell the two of them (or three of them if his GF is also part of the group) a dirty secret of your own, then say “Hey, I was going to keep this between me and you [look at your GF], but [her ex] wouldn’t mind hearing this.” Your smile should now be reaching Joker proportions.

You say, “I saw my ex here, and she is crazy. She loves taking me for a ride.” Hold it, hoooooold it. Look at the ex. “You know what I mean? Anyhow, could you guys just kinda circle around me so maybe she doesn’t see me? If she comes over, pretend like we’re in deep conversation. Christ, I may need to bolt.”

Then they’ll chime in with something, it’s irrelevant. All you’re doing is extracting the id from your girlfriend’s ego bunker and forcing it to manifest in the awkward contortions of her face. You want to savor that crimson blush, her foot shuffling, and her attempts to cut off the conversation with feeble excuses. This is your one act play, and you will make it count.

Continue. “How close are you two? Can I trust you alone together? Haha, just busting your chops. I’ve gotta go, babe. Do you mind if I leave you here with [her ex]? No hanky panky, all right?” Finish it with a coup de grace shit-eating grin.

At this juncture, anything can happen. She might slink away disgracefully and meekly request she join your departure. Or, more likely, she’ll be experiencing something akin to septic shock, and stand there like a dummy, trying to make sense of her cratering bowels. Whatever you do in response, DON’T let on that you know the score. Pretend ignorance. This whole circus depends on plausible deniability and soul-shivving ambiguity. You’re not starting a fight with your girlfriend; you’re starting a fight *within* your girlfriend.

All will become clear to her in a few days time when she hasn’t gotten a single call or text from you. Relish the thought of her paranoia.

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Picky Men

The alt-internet is a strange land where you can find people who appear to have lived in a hermetically sealed Tyvek bubble since birth, and have escaped all interaction with reality. A recent example of this reality-cushioned subspecies is the obligate sperg — male or female — who believes, with absolutely no supporting evidence beside the whispers her hamster breathes into her brain ear, that men exercise no discretion when choosing a mate.

You’ll see this type litter comment sections of blogs whenever the discussion turns, however tangentially, to the horrifying and bowel-shaking notion that men actually prefer to bang and commit to prettier women at the expense of uglier women, and that this preference likely contributed to the evolution of beauty in women, particularly the women of certain races. On the Ugly Truth scale, mentioning that in medicated company is the equivalent of casually noting the vast (and increasingly puzzling, based on current performance) overrepresentation in elite institutions of 2% of the population.

But as anyone who has lived a day in his life knows, men are choosy. (I’m looking at you, Satoshi Kanazawa.) Go to a bar or a nightclub and AMAZE YOURSELF at the sight of so many men gunning for the attention of best in show, and how that best in show as judged by men are, PECULIARLY, often the same three girls. And then notice to your UTTER STUPEFACTION how so many men ignore the overtures of the less attractive girls, even at closing time when, legend has it, men become sex-hungry dogs incapable of controlling their impulses.

No, men are not dogs. Men are discerning dogs. Yes, men like to hump, but they do so with an eye for quality. Male choosiness is real, and while it’s not the equivalent of female choosiness in breadth or intensity, it exists, and it has likely shaped who we are today, and how our women look today. Intriguingly, there have been environments in the distant past when the sex ratio was so skewed by premature male deaths that the few lucky men left alive had a bounty of mate options that would seem incomprehensible to most men alive today, save for the über famous or obscenely wealthy. And since men, almost to the exclusion of all other considerations, prefer sex with hotter women to sex with plainer women, it’s a small logical leap to infer that, given favorable sexual market conditions, men will choose to fuck more often, and more vigorously, the prettiest of women from among all the women. And from that, men will choose to invest their resources in those prettier women, ensuring that their children have a survival advantage over the children of uglier women.

Rinse with sperm and repeat for a thousand years, and you’ve got a race of women who look as if they’ve been touched by the chisel of God.

And the male impulse toward polygyny needn’t be dismissed out of hand for this to work. Simply impose environmental constraints on the amount of resources any one man can amass and thus distribute among multiple women, and he will be nudged in the direction of favoring with his cooperation and sexual gift only those women who most stiffen his splitter. Even a small nudge in this direction can produce massive long-term generational change in the looks of women. An alpha male in possession of a few extra furs and stores of winter grain, who services, say, four women, will plow harder, and plow more often, the best looking of his harem. Over time, and patterned similarly among other men like him, this targeted ardor will lead to differentials in reproductive fitness between the women.

But enough of the theorizing. You don’t need computational geneticists to prove to you what your own eyes can see any night in a crowded bar. So get the hell out of your lala land, internet sperg, and join the human race. You might learn a thing or two.

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Top 5 Signs That A Woman Is Using You

If a woman you know isn’t having sex with you, it pays to be cognizant of signs that she’s using you for emotional or material support. You may not want to be used in this manner, so knowing her intention is half the battle. Even if you don’t want sex with her, you may also be uninterested in serving as an emotional sponge which she can fill with her tears.

Sexlessness is a necessary but not sufficient condition for female exploitation of male friends, but since most men want to bang their female friends, the unreciprocated desire for sex is enough for afflicted men to feel as if they’re being exploited, regardless of the purity of their female friends’ intentions. It is thus in these men’s interests, and for their mental health, to know when they’re giving above and beyond the call of a casual friend and not getting what they want in return, so that they can exit stage right while they still have a shred of dignity left to preserve.

The lure of prime vagina can cloud the most perspicacious men’s minds, so one must devote pointed mental energy to noticing any signs that a woman is using him for friendship without benefits. In my travels across these blown-out post-patriarchy lands, I’ve seen dicksploitation that would shrivel an elephant’s nads. The following list is a summary of the most common methods I’ve observed women employ to snare betas into unwitting friendzone or house eunuch arrangements.

The top five signs a woman is using you, in no particular order of certitude:

1. She’s a single mom.

That’s all. Single mommery is not just a promise of emotional manipulation, it’s a guarantee. The single mom in your life could be the kindest, most generous woman alive, but she’ll be unable to resist the succubus song of her sex’s prime directive: Extract resources from an available male to help her lil’ bastards survive. If a single mom becomes entangled in your life, it won’t be long before you’re shuttling her sprog to soccer games and sex ed classes. Many single moms instinctively know how repelled men are at the thought of raising another man’s issue, so these half-moms often pay their hapless beta volunteers in pellets of post-partum poon. Assuming attractiveness thresholds are reached, this is all well and good… until about three weeks in when, rubbing your knee after having tripped over yet another infernal toy on your way to the sexroom, mommy coyly wonders aloud if… oh never mind… what? what?… oh, it’s just that it would be a really big help if [robe opens to reveal one breast]… yes?… [uptalk alert] if you could take little Sarah to school tomorrow morning so I can get ready for a job interview?

And by then, it’s too late. She has her hooks in you. My advice: Single moms are short-term sex aids. Get in and get out before a fortnight has passed.

2. She’s a flirtatious flake.

Don’t confuse a flake for a flirtatious flake. The latter is FAR more dangerous. The flake is usually a one and done deal. She flakes, you never hear from her again. The flirtatious flake will reinitiate contact on a regular basis, filling you with renewed hope every time your phone buzzes with her latest ego-stroking scam. The dead giveaway of the flirtatious flake is the phony joy she exudes when anticipating the date you proposed — “can’t wait! c u then!!!” — which is followed by an abrupt last-minute cancellation. A few days later you’ll hear from her again, in full apologetics mode, and the cycle begins anew. If she has a real sucker in her hands, she’ll get you to meet her out with friends and buy everyone rounds of drinks… and you’ll leave later, with dry crotch and empty wallet, wondering if what you just experienced was an actual date or a group hug. Hint: It wasn’t a date.

3. She’s a date whore.

This is the girl who muscles in on the man’s prerogative to choose the date venue. She likes dating; she doesn’t much like sex with the types of men who will agree to her demands for endless dating. No matter what date you suggest, she’ll counter-offer with something that will invariably cost you more money. “Oh hey, I read about this new play downtown… I’d love it if you went with me?” Of course, there’s no logical procession from her date suggestion to her paying her way. If you agree to whatever exorbitantly priced scheme she has in mind, you’re stuck coughing up the cash. Unless you’re a total asshole (ahem) and slip out the back Jack, when Jill gets the bill.

There are two ways to smoke out a nascent golddigger: 1. Absolutely demand she meet you for drinks at your favorite cheap dive bar. If she balks or, worse, if she goes but sulks all night while trying to bounce you to a pricier venue, you’ll have evidence that she’s a user of losers. 2. Suggest an outrageously expensive date idea. If she jumps at the chance after having spent weeks evading your efforts to meet up with her, she plays tools for fools. Don’t try to stick it out with her; if you think sex is “just around the corner”, that’s a corner that never ends.

4. She likes to play “Let’s you and him fight”.

Some girls love to incite white knight theatrics. They get a rush from manipulating dupes to fight other men for their sake. These girls typically have very high tolerances for drama, so it takes a lot to rev their egos. The spectacle of a betaboy friend confronting another man for the approval of a fair maiden is too delicious to these women to pass up. If you find yourself precariously edging toward such situations every time you’re out with a girl, take it as a given she’s using you for emotional orgasms. And those are the least interesting orgasms from a man’s perspective.

Women can also play the “let’s you and him fight” game with invisible ex-boyfriends. She’ll insert an ex into the conversation as a psychological combatant to measure your response. It’s crisis and observation, and if you don’t dismiss her ploy out of hand, you always come out the losing party. Women who bitch and moan about exes on dates aren’t really needing your “support”; what they need is to see what kind of man you are.

5. She’s a self-made martyr.

The old damsel in distress scam. “Pity poor me! My ex/BFF/pimp did this horrible thing to me, and now I don’t know what to do… [bats eyelashes]… maybe you can help?” Beware the walking sob story. She’s a predator who strikes at men’s weakest access point: Their protective instinct. Many a beta chump has been swindled to do the bidding of a doe-eyed martyr expertly wielding the distant reward of sex. These women know that many betas nourish a powerful fantasy of winning the girl through acts of heroism and sacrifice, and they exploit that delusion mercilessly.

If you’re dealing with a self-made martyr, resist the urge to be a Captain Save-a-Ho. Remember the First Rule of Fuck Club: Fuck first, favors later. Sex can always be followed by favors, if you wish. But favors are rarely followed by sex. Get your priorities straight.

Bonus!

Top five signs she’s a true friend and not just using you.

1. She brings her own drugs to share.
2. She pays for the first round, and insists on alternating after that.
3. She never mentions ex-boyfriends or family problems on dates.
4. If you ask her about an ex, she’ll say you don’t want to hear about it, and mean it.
5. She genuinely surprises you with unexpected gifts, because she remembers that time you did something for her.

Double Bonus Round!

How to turn a friendzone to your sexual advantage.

Preemptively friendzone the girl if you suspect she has similar designs. Getting the LJBF jump on a girl will seriously fuck with her mental toolkit. Expectations UPTURNED! Sense her attraction isn’t quite “there” yet? Worried she might try to insert you into her group of friends as the reality of your animal desire looms? Tell her, “I like hanging out with you, because there’s no pressure. It’s good that I’m not interested in you that way.”

A preemptive friendzone is a sucker punch to a girl’s ego. What was once her romantic inertia will become her raging curiosity. “This guy just wants to be… friends?!?” Humor her attempts to drag love interests and exes into conversations. In fact, ask her for more juicy gossip, because you like hearing about all the guys who fall for her tricks. Agree & amplify. Brag about yourself, because now you’re no longer “trying” to impress her. Exaggerate your indifference to her sexuality; “I’m glad we can be this physical because it doesn’t mean anything.” Play it cool and play it with sincerity, and you can energize the sexual tension until such time that you decide you’ve “had a change of heart” about her. It’s the rare woman indeed who doesn’t fall for this convenient about face. Proceed to plunder at will.

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