When Asshole Game “Backfires”

Asshole Game is one of the best and fastest methods for stimulating attraction in women. But its raw power tempts risky overuse. There are assholes who overplay their hand, and lose the girl. Women are romantically dichotomous creatures, at once lured by the aloof asshole as by the wooing beta. This dichotomy exists because women procreatively require both the seed of a proven quantity alpha male and the provisions of a proven investor beta male. The tension of the female dichotomy is never more apparent than when she’s at that precarious six-month stage of a relationship with an intoxicating alpha male, and she’s starting to fret about a dearth of romantic gestures from him that would allay her fear of abandonment.

Wise players understand this womanly war with herself, and tailor their game to satisfy her dueling needs, (or until such time that the player becomes restless for new conquests).

However, asshole game is SO powerful, that even overuse doesn’t automatically kill a budding relationship dead like beta supplication kills it flat out. Hence, the nuance quotes around “backfire” in the post title.

For an example of what I’m talking about, read what this reader passes along,

I’ve been devouring your archives these last two weeks. Great stuff that has really been life changing at my tender age of 19. I was never a complete beta, but I did not have an alpha attitude that I look to adopt now. I wanted to get your thoughts on a text thing that I’ve taken to. In the same vein of “gay” and “…”, I offer up “haaaaaaaa”. With as many A’s as you want. Recent example from an old ex texting me the other night, after a missed phone call from her at 11:30 on a Thursday.

ex: why didn’t you answer
me: i’m out
ex: i need to talk to you
(30 minutes later)
ex: actually forget it. go fuck yourself asshole.
me: haaaaaaaaa
ex: seriously?
ex: you’re immature as fuck
(hour later)
ex: are you home yet?

Thoughts?

My thoughts are this is classic aloof asshole game, and her reaction indicates that it’s working on her. How do we know she continues to dream about you pounding her out? Because she’s responding. Not only responding, but initiating contact. Her words may sound resentful, but the fact that she bothers to express herself against your perceived indifference is all the evidence you need she can’t stop thinking about you. Women who are truly uninterested in a man show it by not showing anything at all — they tend to vanish in a quickly evaporating mist of curt goodbyes.

To the average culturally medicated passerby, it reads like your ex is really angry with you and that romance is the last thing on her mind. But to those with experience in the dating trenches, her indignation is a major tell. A woman’s emotional outpouring, good or bad, is reserved for men who matter to her.

Did this reader’s asshole game straddle the line between puppeteer of poon and jettisoned jerk? Perhaps. But there’s something you should know about assholes and their unusual pull on women. Beta suck-ups are rejected before they even know where they went wrong; an asshole can dump a quarry full of his toxic slurry into a woman’s heart and she’ll still leave the door to her pussy open a crack for him, based on nothing more than a slim hope he’ll redeem himself in her eyes.

Women give latitude to men with attitude, while earnest betas are swiftly disposed.

***

In related news, the Napster-founding asshole with expertise in the art of vanishing has somehow managed to provoke the obsessed love and unthwarted womb receptivity of a model. Will wonders never cease?

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Gaming Attention Whores

Commenter MercifulBoss asks,

I was daygaming at the mall a while ago, got this girls number and took some photos with her and me in the photo for social proof. She opened me on facebook we talked for a bit, I tried to get her out but she found excuses and never went out with me.

Today I was fucking around on Facebook and she opens me saying, “like my photo of me getting kissed?”, its a photo of her sitting at her computer while some random dude kisses her on the cheek.

I didn’t reply (seems like an attention whore to me — I don’t like enabling attention whores).

Was this the correct move, or should I have said something non-commital like, “cool”? The silence could be interpreted like butthurtedness?

All indicators are that she’s a) taken or b) totally uninterested in anything but getting her ego stroked by a chasing beta. I don’t think you have a deep mystery on your hands here. The correct move was moving on.

However, it sounds like you wanted an exploit that would ignite the possibility of slipping the PIV. If so, there are many effective ways you could have replied to her taunt. Examples:

her: “like my photo of me getting kissed?”

you: “you’re real close with your dad/brother/cousin, aren’t you?”

you: “more tongue next time”

you: “presentation: 7, execution: 2”

you: “goddam, dude is slobbering on you like a hungry dog” [boyfriend destroyer subroutine]

you: *popcorn pic* “awesome. steamy lesbian sex” [another boyfriend destroyer PLUS sneaky neg]

you: “you call that a kiss? i’ll show you a kiss.” *send her pic of a Hershey’s kiss*

you: “how cute. you’re looking for my approval” [flipping the native sex script is powerful game]

you: *send her pictogram of birthday cake cat*

The point with these replies is that it’s paramount to communicate an aloof, outcome independent, devil-may-care, toes-a-tappin’ alpha male attitude. Amused mastery, in PUA parlance. The best way to do this is through an amalgam of cavalier humor and edgy teasing.

This method is probably the only really results-replicable, reliable, game-savvy response to an attention whore dropping beta bait into the Facebook tank and fishing for nibbles or whole chomps from desperate orbiters. She’s already put you on the defensive; therefore most replies, like “cool”, will carry a whiff of butthurt.

Radio silence of course is your next best option, but that doesn’t leave much room for burying the beef hatchet in that ratchet. Silence is a very passive opt out of an attention whore feeding frenzy. It isn’t butthurt — men tend to overestimate women’s ability to read spite into silence — but it isn’t a proactive game tactic, either. At best, it leaves her wondering what you really think and leaves you free to spend your valuable time on other less emotionally needy women.

Just follow the patented CH Maxim of Seductive Interaction:

Maxim 5: Charisma before silence, silence before self-incrimination.

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“The want of men was their ruin”

Aristotle expounded on the fall of Sparta at the hands of their women. It’s brisk reading and, to CH readers, offers familiar theories about the sexes. The ancients knew more about the nature of women than do our modern, plugged in Wiki warriors with the world’s PC knowledge at their fingertips.

Again, the license of the Lacedaemonian women defeats the intention of the Spartan constitution, and is adverse to the happiness of the state. For, a husband and wife being each a part of every family, the state may be considered as about equally divided into men and women; and, therefore, in those states in which the condition of the women is bad, half the city may be regarded as having no laws. And this is what has actually happened at Sparta; the legislator wanted to make the whole state hardy and temperate, and he has carried out his intention in the case of the men, but he has neglected the women, who live in every sort of intemperance and luxury. The consequence is that in such a state wealth is too highly valued, especially if the citizen fall under the dominion of their wives, after the manner of most warlike races, except the Celts and a few others who openly approve of male loves. The old mythologer would seem to have been right in uniting Ares and Aphrodite, for all warlike races are prone to the love either of men or of women. This was exemplified among the Spartans in the days of their greatness; many things were managed by their women. But what difference does it make whether women rule, or the rulers are ruled by women? The result is the same. Even in regard to courage, which is of no use in daily life, and is needed only in war, the influence of the Lacedaemonian women has been most mischievous. The evil showed itself in the Theban invasion, when, unlike the women other cities, they were utterly useless and caused more confusion than the enemy. This license of the Lacedaemonian women existed from the earliest times, and was only what might be expected. For, during the wars of the Lacedaemonians, first against the Argives, and afterwards against the Arcadians and Messenians, the men were long away from home, and, on the return of peace, they gave themselves into the legislator’s hand, already prepared by the discipline of a soldier’s life (in which there are many elements of virtue), to receive his enactments. But, when Lycurgus, as tradition says, wanted to bring the women under his laws, they resisted, and he gave up the attempt. These then are the causes of what then happened, and this defect in the constitution is clearly to be attributed to them. We are not, however, considering what is or is not to be excused, but what is right or wrong, and the disorder of the women, as I have already said, not only gives an air of indecorum to the constitution considered in itself, but tends in a measure to foster avarice.

The mention of avarice naturally suggests a criticism on the inequality of property. While some of the Spartan citizen have quite small properties, others have very large ones; hence the land has passed into the hands of a few. And this is due also to faulty laws; for, although the legislator rightly holds up to shame the sale or purchase of an inheritance, he allows anybody who likes to give or bequeath it. Yet both practices lead to the same result. And nearly two-fifths of the whole country are held by women; this is owing to the number of heiresses and to the large dowries which are customary. It would surely have been better to have given no dowries at all, or, if any, but small or moderate ones. As the law now stands, a man may bestow his heiress on any one whom he pleases, and, if he die intestate, the privilege of giving her away descends to his heir. Hence, although the country is able to maintain 1500 cavalry and 30,000 hoplites, the whole number of Spartan citizens fell below 1000. The result proves the faulty nature of their laws respecting property; for the city sank under a single defeat; the want of men was their ruin.

Translated into New Shivvian:

“Hordes of pampered, ballcutting, materialistic, meddling, careerist, status whoring, slutty Spartan women riding the cock carousel and riding their hapless hounded hubbies, became self-sufficient property owners and heiresses of a few very wealthy aggrandizing men, thereby robbing Sparta’s beta males of the opportunity to establish affordable families of their own, leaving the city down the road with too few men to defend itself against invaders who themselves didn’t give a shit what proto-feminist Spartan women thought.”

CH is fond of recapitulating the axiom that women are perishable and men are expendable, and this is true in the whole and assessed over discrete blocks of time. But perturbations in the male population caused by long term fluxes in the expendability side of the equation will lead, as observed and noted by Aristotle, (a thinker so great you could jam the writings and wailings of all of history’s leading feminists and mangina suck-ups into a single fold of his cerebellum and it would scarcely amount to more than a fleeting musing in his daily mental output), to the ruin of a nation.

Biologically, men are indeed the expendable sex. A population group (i.e., a nation in the old timey sense of the word) can withstand short term shocks to its total number of men; it doesn’t take but one man to munch a few celery stalks and pop a few zinc tablets and carry on in his duty to impregnate an army of patriotic women and repopulate the countryside.

But given enough male expendability over time, and the first order axiom of fundamental sex difference starts to break down. For although a single man can, conceivably, star in a version of Boogie Years and spread his seed to the four corners of the country to rebuild a stricken population, that single man is also critically vulnerable to overrun by hungry barbarians who get word of a land where they can dine on honeydew and drink the milk of paradise for the low low price of one man’s scalp.

Feminists, equalists, open borders nutjobs, and assorted degenerate misfits ought to keep in mind that their beloved “progress” comes prepackaged with the seed of their destruction. CH (and Aristotle) will slap on the warning label; now it’s up to them to heed it.

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The Top 4 Future Fatty Tests

Vox has a post about identifying future female fatties which references a study that found differences in MRI scans of the brains of women when viewing food or exercise. Women whose brains essentially bellyached at the sight of exercise were more likely to fatten up for the pig roast.

CH would like to e’er so ‘umbly suggest less invasive, and perhaps equally predictive, methods for determining which girl you date today has a good shot of becoming a gross fatty tomorrow.

There are four tests, listed in descending order of predictive power.

1. The Mom Test

If her mom is fat, she’ll be fat. If her mom was fat in old pictures of herself, she’ll be fat REAL SOON. The Mom Test is about as close to a guarantee of future daughter fatness as you can get. Prepare yourself for the inevitable by acquiring new numbers and warming up your texting-while-dumping thumbs.

2. The Wrist Test

She’s thin where it most counts but her wrists are old growth logs. Watch out! The wrist bones are a dead giveaway that she has the sturdy frame to support future poundage. She might not bloat to Jabba proportions, but she will “fill out”, to use a transparently softening euphemism.

3. The Diet History Test

Does she have a history of dieting? This may take some digging to uncover, but girls who have dieted in the past are prone to dieting in the present, and they will self-incriminate about previous attempts to lose weight, failed or successful. Naturally and durably slender women rarely, if ever, actively diet. “Actively” is the key word here, since it is possible to “diet” by simply choosing certain lifestyles without making a consciously pained effort to do so. A woman whose past is littered with the detritus of planned diets is one weak moment away from turning into a post-blueberry Violet Beauregarde.

4. The Unprompted Exercise Test

Does she jump into exercise without being prompted by external influences such as peers, scheduled class times on her phone calendar, or gym fads popularized on celebrity websites? Does she undertake exercise with a smile rather than a groan? Then she’s a thin-for-life keeper! But be careful about using total exercise hours spent as a measurement of a thin girl’s propensity to stay thin. If she has to be pushed into exercise, then she can just as easily be pushed out of it by eviler life influences. And many fat girls do log impressive amounts of time curling 1 lb pink dumbbells and strolling on treadmills at the lowest speed setting. The crucial variable, then, is a girl’s eagerness to exercise, and especially her eagerness to exercise alone. This is a girl who moves her body not to lose weight, but to stimulate a dopamine rush. Happily, a welcome side effect of that dopamine craving is a slenderness that just won’t quit.

So there you have it. Tally your girlfriend’s score.

Would you bang her sexy mom? Check.
Are her wrists like songbird legs? Check.
Is her idea of a diet not eating like a hog? Check.
Does she run five miles without advertising it to the whole world, or making a Hollywood production out of it? Check.

Congratulations! You have a girl whose tight hourglass bod will hold up for years, and even decades, to come. I’d say slap a ring on it, but that’s the one test that will reverse the positive result of passing all four of the above Future Fatty Tests.

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Gaming Crazy Chicks

The crazy chick is practically an American institution. Delayed marriage, cats as alpha male fill-ins, marathon trash TV, childlessness, anti-depressants, and energy drinks with five pounds of added sugar will turn most normal girls into genuine headcases or poseurs who want men to think they’re headcases. A disconcertingly large minority of American women seem to believe that acting like a mentally imbalanced fruitcake substitutes for a paucity of femininity. It doesn’t. It only makes men think you’ll put out on the first date.

The crazy chick can be gamed, and there’s good reason to try. Men want three primary attributes in the ideal woman: beauty, an openness to sexual experimentation, and a sweet disposition. Crazy chicks often possess attribute #1, and always possess attribute #2. The problem is that they never have #3, so the smart man knows the crazy chick was put on the earth for fun only, to be discarded as soon as the ratio of her pain-in-the-assery exceeds her ability to sexually please. The crazier the chick, the quicker that P-to-P ratio turns upside down.

If you’re going to mix it up with crazy chicks, you had better know what you’re doing. Lesser men have gotten chewed up and spit out by the sexy siren who made a sport of baffling and blind-siding her prey. A man unacquainted with the Lokianne side of female nature can be ruined for all good women after a few months dangling on the painted meathook of a crazy chick. You’ve gotta know when to hold ’em, and know when to fling ’em out the door and change the locks.

It also helps to know which chicks are crazy to the bone, and which are just sad, tragic figurines fronting crazy for the attention whore fix.

Commenter Troubadour writes,

I’ve decided to seek outside opinions profiling the girl.

She has piercing, dark eyes that drill straight into mine, and our eyes stay locked while she throws out shit tests like these:

“It was my fault I was raped when I was 11. Everybody tells me I was asking for it, and I agree. I was asking for it.”

“I’ve often thought how much fun it would be to call a hooker over and then murder her.”

“I almost killed myself a little while ago. I cut too deep. That’s why I’m wearing the long sleeves.”

“I hope I die soon. I haven’t eaten in over a month to lose all that weight, and I’m in danger of passing out. I might pass out behind the wheel and die. I hope it happens.”

Is that the kind of crap a garden variety scene kid throws out to get attention, or is this chick scary fucked up?

What am I messing with here?

I’m no psychiatrist… just a humble man with a working penis and a blessedly light genetic mutational load… but I can tell you this chick is fucked in the head. She’s either a raging narcissist or a certified nut; in practice, it makes no difference to you. The emotional basket case attention whore won’t make your life any easier than the subclinical loon.

Maxim #41: A girl who mentions rape or suicide during the first few months of dating in any context other than as a third party making a wryly humorous observation immediately outs herself as a crank with borderline personality disorder who will be a living nightmare as a girlfriend.

Many crazy chicks will fool you with their lavish dependency, and then surprise you one night with a story about “this one dude at the art expo I went to (yeah I forgot to tell you I was planning to go) who kept pestering me and eventually I just gave up and had to kiss him to get it out of the way”. And you’ll be like, “Ok, what the fuck just happened here? Do I need to get myself tested?”

What I’ve learned is that the winning tack with crazy chicks is a studied indifference to their assorted psychological manipulations. And by the buttplug of pajamboy do they have a warehouse of mind games. Know what you’re getting into, and be ready to get out as soon as you catch her freak coming round the corner. One, you’ll want pussy on the side; crazy chick pussy is usually pretty good, and hard to tear yourself from if you don’t have a fallback. Two, whatever you do, don’t indulge her outbursts, her passive-aggressiveness, her pity ploys, her martyrdom, or her sensationalism.

The worst decision you can make is to be “exclusive” with a crazy chick, and try to reform her. That’s just begging for a world of hurt. You’re no magnanimous minister to the moon units, saving hos like Jesus saving sinners. The crazy chicks FEASTS on do-gooder betas. You show a glimmer of kindness, or patience, or a “need to understand” and your cuckoo boo will have your sanity for lunch.

The only cure for the crazy chick that’s been known to work on at least a few of them is The Wall. A headlong splat and total invisibility to men is worth more than ten years of therapy and annual pregnancy scares. When a young hottie has lost her source of power, her crazy stops befuddling betas and testing the tolerance of alphas. She gets ignored, and learns through Instant Feedback that her crazy antics, once so entertaining and lovable in the form of a 21 year old vixen, now isolates her from every social circle she knows.

The best counterstrategy for dealing with crazy chicks is bracing candor wrapped in condescension. Tell her what’s really going through your head, but do it in a way that leaves no doubt how little you care what she thinks or feels:

“It’s amazing how you can say shit like this while holding eye contact like a serial killer. Great stuff. Love it. What other tricks do you do?”

Meet crazy with the kind of male crazy that *really* drives crazy chicks nuts: detached amusement. The sex should be incredible. Just don’t stick around.

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Finding A Poosy Paradise By Women’s Number Of Facebook Friends

While peer reviewed, double blind, metafantastic research on the subject is hard to come by, there is a general consensus among men who have experience with women beyond licking their taints in the comments section of feminist blogs that the less attention whoring a woman the better candidate she is for a long-term relationship. The causal mechanism for this observed reality is theoretical at this point, but a reasonable proposition is that attention-craving women — like this one — have oversized egos which require constant external validation.

Women without this need for ego stroking from the betatariat and BFF choruses are, on the whole, more grounded and fulfilled with their private love lives. While they are just as attracted to desirable alpha males as any social media mistress who sells pieces of her soul to Instagram, the attention eschewing woman represents less risk as a long-term romantic investment, because her sexual and communal energy is more inward- than outward-directed.

What is a poosy paradise for most men? It is a place where, or a time when, the women are beautiful, sexually hungry, and also sexually faithful, with an eye toward long, loving relationships while they are still in their youthful primes. You can find these places by word of mouth, or by extensive travel. You can also narrow your search by collating online social media data by country and discovering where the women are least likely to whore for attention.

Probably the best data rich vein is Facebook. The average number of friends that a country’s (or a region’s) women have on Facebook is a pretty good indicator of the mean level of national attention whoring. Internet penetrance (heh) is broad enough in developed countries that fair comparisons between Facebook friend numbers can be made by country. (I suppose if you want to Game Africa, this comparison system will do you no good.)

Commenter corvinus writes,

But even your normal white American male of German-Irish-English descent has to contend with the fact that about one-third of women in their twenties are FAT, and the desirable women usually have several male orbiters and never have to worry about not having a boyfriend until they’re north of 35.

One thing I’ve noticed based on Facebook is that the hot American girls usually have over 500 “friends”, and very often over 1,000 (including plenty of frat boys that they’ve known for years and can pick from for their next boyfriend), whereas Eastern European girls tend to have only about 100 or so. I myself was never in a fraternity, and only became halfway socially adept after coming here a couple years ago, and I’m now into my early thirties. So I have a serious disadvantage as per social connections go.

Crack CH researchers trawled the net and found some social media data that helps clarify where in the world the worst attention whores reside. While the following graph isn’t separated by sex, it’s safe to assume the overall comparison is similar for both men and women across countries, even if there is a difference in average number of FB friends between the sexes within countries.

Within America, it should surprise no one that the attention whores congregate in the Northeast and Midwest, where careerist feminists and fat single moms predominate. The attention whoring in the South is probably driven by their large black population. Squinting a little, the attention whore map overlays fairly closely with the Red State-Blue State political map (especially the one that drills down to the county level, where racial political differences are more apparent). The big outlier would be the Pacific Northwest, where people take pride in their friendship selectivity.

Worldwide, Russia and Eastern Europe look like the places to be for pretty girls who don’t feel a delirious compulsion to hoard as many pretend friends as possible in an alternate virtual universe. And, again, this accords with personal experience: the EE chicks I’ve dated spent far fewer hours on Facebook per week than any American girl I’ve known.

Warm weather climates appear to be more Facebook friends-friendly, while cold weather climes the opposite. My guess is that this is a reflection of broad racial differences in temperament: K-selected, nuclear family people versus r-selected, social aggrandizing people. But there are plenty of exceptions to this rule.

In Europe, the Anglo countries don’t fair so well. Feminism was birthed in the Anglo crucible, and it is within the Anglosphere where the fruits of feminism and you-go-grrlism are most overripe. Five decades blowing buttercups up girls’ muumuus is bound to have a deleterious effect on their egos and need for infinite validation.

Beyond Eastern Europe, Japan looks like a good bet for finding women who avoid attention whoring. If you’re a white Western man, Japan is tailor-made for romantic adventure: feminine women with self-sustaining egos and men who go to bed with pillow girlfriends as competition. Just gotta get past those flat asses…

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How To Evade Tough Questioning From Women

This one time, in gigolo camp…

I’d like to relay a conversation I had with a past lover who asked a very pointed question as we were strolling along a riverbank (yes, really! Hallmark called and wanted their moment back), in hopes that it will impart a valuable lesson for the next generation of pussy houndlings. Our love ended when she moved far away, but she later returned for a few weeks and met with me to wax nostalgic over old times. The pertinent part of our convo follows:

Her: Did you use game on me?

Me: (momentarily rattled) What do you mean?

Her: I mean did you say things that would make me fall for you? Were your feelings real?

After a few seconds pause to collect myself and stop from blurting an ill-formed, self-incriminating reply, I stowed my easy smile and summoned my Very Serious Face.

Me: Since when did you become so cynical? One thing I’ll always regret is turning a woman like you into a cynic. It doesn’t suit you.

Her: I’m not cynical. I was just wondering if you meant what you said to me.

Me: Tell me, was I a bad influence on you?

Her: No.

Me: But I was. You sound like a different girl today. That’s not good. You’ve lost something, and it kills me inside.

Our conversation took a detour at that juncture, as we passed a store that reminded her of the place where I picked her up. When we returned to the subject, she asked me what I meant when I said she was different now than when I met her. All talk of “game” had ceased.

Note three themes: 1) I never answered her question directly. 2) I redirected the conversation so that she was put on the defensive, having to reconcile both a possible change in her personality for the worse, and blame for making me feel like “it was killing me inside”. 3) The “bad influence” assumption fed her desire for JERKBOY drama.

The wild-eyed feminist reader shrieks, “That’s manipulation!” Is it? Substantively, nothing I said was false. Her fling with me really did provoke in her a small measure of cynicism. It’s also true that she was a naturally big-hearted girl for whom cynicism conflicted with those temperamental attributes that made her special to me. And finally, I did in fact feel kind of bad for arousing in her dark suspicions. And it is a fact as well that women welcome a bit of badboy excitement in their love lives.

But there would’ve been no gain to be had, for either of us, from admitting under interrogation that I had used game on her or from expressing regret for the use of game rather than regret for the effect that it had on her uncorrupted, trusting love. Because I knew from experience that when women ask seemingly pointed questions, what they really want to know goes much deeper, to primal feelings that women hold near and dear, like, for instance, the nature of loving reciprocation. Directing my replies to those deeper feelings in her, as if I was talking to a separate being or the real woman behind the curtain, would yield fuller intimacy.

So I had used game. And I meant what I had said to her when we first met. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Game was the best way to persuade her that my feelings for her were genuine, because I knew that she would need that professionally administered seduction to be open to receiving my sincere message of love. Yes, you evade tough questioning from a woman to sidestep discomfort and bad feelings, but you also evade her dead end inquisitions to grapple with the turbulence of her hidden, animating emotions. The art and science of seduction can be as enlightening as it can be bewildering. And there’s no woman in the world who doesn’t love it for both reasons.

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