Why Men Don’t Have BFFs

Watch this video of a man and a woman, respectively, dropping a mickey in their dates’ drinks.

When the man attempts to drug his date, a mongrel horde of white knights descends upon him to break him on the wheel. But when the woman does the same to her date… crickets. Not a stir among the white knight brigade to defend from bodily harm the man who is the victim of her mickey. Only one person — a woman — steps up to tell the guy that his date put a pill in his drink.

This is all unsurprising to Chateau regulars who are familiar with the fundamental premise governing human sociosexual dynamics.

Interestingly, this reluctance to come to a man’s aid (relative to the eagerness to do so for women) is why men’s same-sex friendships are so much deeper and more meaningful than women’s same-sex friendships. When a man has earned another man’s true friendship, their loyalty can last for decades, through the worst tribulations. Women’s friendships are, by way of contrast, quite a bit more… how shall we say?… gossipy and fickle.

This is the reason why women invent terms like “BFF”, (Best Friend Forever). When you can’t really count on your friends to be there, you artificially pump the value of your friendships with branding exercises that allow you and them to think the relationship is more profound than it is. Men have no need for such verbal calisthenics, because a man’s close friends have earned their place in his world by their action, not by their word. His loyal male friends are presumed BFFs. No marketing or product branding required.

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A Thin Line Between Bad Game And Tight Game

RappaccinisDaughter writes,

The problem is that so many guys attempting [the neg] DO NOT understand the difference between a “neg” and an insult. From what I’ve read on here, a “neg” is supposed to be playful…like you were teasing a bratty little sister, but not trying to make her cry. Instead, what I’m seeing out there is guys saying these unbelievably rude things.

Example: I was meeting some friends for dinner, but I got there early and had to wait at the bar. Some random strikes up a conversation with me. We speak for a couple of minutes, everything is polite and friendly, when he comes out with this whopper:

“You know, those child-bearing hips of yours almost make up for how small your tits are.”

That interaction went from, “Hmm, maybe he’s got some friends that might like to come hang out with me and my friends after we’ve all eaten,” to me actually giving the guy the finger and telling him to go fuck himself. Which I generally never do because I think it’s tacky, but I was so shocked and insulted that it just kind of popped out.

RD is aghast at the rudeness of her negger, but a small change in wording is all it would take to reframe RD’s middle finger into a muffsome tingle. For example:

“Your sexy hips balance out your athletic boobs.”

There. This is what a neg should sound like coming from a better negger. It’s only superficially a compliment. The “athletic boobs” part, sliding in as it does like a sneaky syntactical fucker soon after the conspicuous flattery, adds that necessary ingredient of backhanded ambiguity that so enthralls women’s need for intrigue. When delivered with plausible naivete, the woman is left with no one to accuse of rudeness, and her middle finger is stayed. Instead of outward rebellion at her devious suitor, she turns inward to wonder what he meant by “athletic boobs”, (to most women, the description evokes the image of tiny but firm titties), and in the turning inward she becomes invested in him and, ultimately, in his approval.

I hope now people are starting to get a feel for proper neggery. It doesn’t have to be complicated, although negging as an art form can require a high skill level. A simple disqualification — “It’s nice for a change to talk to a girl like she’s one of the guys” — is really all that you need to say to successfully pull off a neg and pique a girl’s curiosity about you.

It wouldn’t be CH if a sly postscript precision-engineered to get under combatants’ skins weren’t appended.

PS Despite the horrible negger in RD’s anecdote, you’ll note that she remembers him days later. A woman’s hate is far preferable to her indifference as an emotional medium through which you can insinuate your obscure charms. To put it curtly, no man ever banged a woman who didn’t know or care he existed, but plenty of men have banged women who started out with hate and disgust (but not boredom!) in their hearts. Of course, it’s ideal to begin the dance of symbolized copulation in the throes of genuine romantic ardor, but hate will do in a pinch.

PPS Better to err on the side of too much assholery than too little. If you can’t think of a good neg, dropping a bad neg is, most of the time, still better than talking about the weather. At least you’ve pinged her radar. Because hell hath no blowouts like a woman bored.

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Unethical Places To Pick Up Girls

You can fast-track your cad career by being smarter about the locations of your target acquisition. But this may require going above and beyond the call of decency.

1. Abortion clinics

What better (or faster) way to look like a protector of loved ones than to strike a pose at an abortion clinic waiting room, assisting a friend in fertilized distress? The kind of man who will “be there”, even in a woman’s darkest moments. And your quarry… ladies at their most vulnerable, many forgotten and discarded by badboy lovers. And you know these abortion-questing broads are impulsive, full spectrum sluts. The proof is in the womb pudding. Their BFF escorts are sluts, too. Sluts like to be around other sluts, so they’re not constantly judged by withering glares.

Here’s a man who took the pre-viability plunge:

I creep on [girls] and they love my confidence. I have put myself out there. I made out with a girl the other day for the first time since high school.

Anyways, abortion clinics are great. I always go in and i pretend that I am making an appointment for my sister because she got knocked up and my parents are religious. So the other day i go by the clinic (my parents kicked me out and I moved in with my grandma who lives close to one clinic) and I just lurk around so see if any hot non preggos come in. After about an hour or so this cutie walks in with her preggo friend.

Now I don’t do preggos because they have weird nipples and I am lactose intolerant so sex gets messy and pukey. But her friend was hot.

so I make up a sob story to this bish about my sister and how I am there for her even though my parents would abondon her is she told them about the pregnency. I also tell them that women have the right to choose (lol the only thing I let bishes choose is how much lettuce they put in my sandwich. Bishes be all healthy and sh;t).

So the preggo goes into the clinic while the hot friend stays out with me. We talk about feminism and stuff. She is impressed with my in depth knowledge and asks me to come out to the bar later. (I hate finism but I learned all about it to trick bishes. Bishes be dumb lol).

So I go home start pre gaming and puke a few times because of my celiacs (can’t drink beer). Go to bar, talk up the bish, buy her drinks and she kisses me at the end and tells me that she has to go but I should come over to her house on monday. I’m gonna get laid tomorrow. So happy.

This strategy of killin’ it at the clinic might not be viable much longer, thanks to the morning after pill. Next pick-up stop… CVS!

2. Gay bars

If you have the stomach for it, plying the gay bar for straight women is subterfuge with a high ROI. There are many reasons why gay bars are great pick up places for straight men, but really it primarily comes down to the de facto sex ratio skew. The bar doesn’t have to be wildly gay, either. A minimal substitution of, say, 10% of the straight men with gay men can make the women there feel quite a bit more anxious about their market positions. Nudging the sex ratio needle a little can help your cad cause a lot.

Gay bar downside: Trannies. You better hope you have a keen eye, crying gamer.

3. Divorce/family court

Ever hang out at your local bureau of broken dreams and tragic mistakes? Yeah, the quality there isn’t great (most hot babes marry well and learn to tolerate the mistresses) but the self-esteems are at ROCK BOTTOM PRICES. Like stalking abortion clinics, the objective here is to hone on women who are hurting awfully bad, and pick up their spirits with promises of romance to carry them away from their problems.

4. Any poor country

Self-explanatory. As an American, you’ve got that “expert from afar” and “meal ticket” vibe going which foreign women in poor countries amor amor amor. But these INCREDIBLE DEALS won’t last, because America’s relative superiority to lesser nations with good-looking peasant girls is shrinking by the day. Soon, you can kiss goodbye that East European breastbasket. Next pick-up stop… Rwanda!

5. Welfare office

Flash that roll of tens, and you are good to go, pimp daddy! Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking. “But I like my women to look like women and not megafauna!” Somebody call the waaambulance. Ok, then pay a visit to the countryside, where skid row is more rustic, and more white. At least a few of those hard luck cases will be disarmingly cute. Downside: Hope you like tripping over toys on the way to the bedroom.

6. AA meetings/sex addict groups/rehab centers

There’s nothing better for the modern Casanova than a fragile woman with low impulse control. Heck, books have been written about it. Problem is, some bishes are catching onto the ploy.

7. Funerals

Ah, the specter of death, beaten back with help from the specter of your scepter.

8. George Mason University Economics Department

After a week of enduring robotic sperg anti-game, that cute coed will be dying for some human contact. Should be hassle-free to sit in on a class or one hundred, because I’m certain the GMU Econ Department has an open door policy, right?

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Monthly Cycle Game: A Teaser

CH taunted and teased you ladies with hints of forthcoming posts on Monthly Cycle Game.

[T]here are two distinct schools of game every man should use: One tailored to women during the one week they’re ovulating and demanding of more dominance signals, and one tailored to women during the three weeks they prefer more signals of attainability and commitment. How will you know when to use each? Stay tuned.

Here’s a little pleaser teaser to get you started on your road to mastering MCG, the art of adjusting your game to women’s cycles. A reader passed along the following study.

Synopsis ad paraphrase:  That the most fertile women have a 29.5 day cycle, and their menstration tends to be during full moon. While the most infertile women tend to bleed a week after full moon.

File this baby under “wow, just wow”. Do you enjoy the pleasures of exceedingly fertile women with exquisite hourglass figures who look like they could birth a small village? Then you’ll want to ramp up your aloof alpha cockiness when they’re ovulating, which appears to be, according to this study, [correction: two weeks before] full moons. So look up at the night sky, find that love-lit orb shining its arrogant fullest, wait two weeks, and confidently neg that hard 10 knowing she’ll never be more receptive to your jerkboy charms than right at that moment.

In future posts dedicated to the concept of Monthly Cycle Game, CH will examine the ovulatory “tells” that betray maximally fertile women; tells which men with a trained eye will be able to pick up and exploit to their end-of-civilization advantage.

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Are Antidepressants Ruining American Women?

Think about the ecumenical change in society that, intuitively, must be happening with the widespread use of various hindbrain altering drugs, like the Pill and antidepressants. This is a change in biochemistry unparalleled in human evolutionary history. It’d be a miracle of serendipity if there weren’t blowback.

A reader surmises,

Great site. Good advice. But …

There is something to be said for all the anti-depressants/mood stabilizers/whatevers that women are taking these days. And I mean, a LOT of women on are on these psych drugs. You’re asking me so what, right? Well …

A lot of a man’s behavior toward women rests on the presumption (truth) that women are insecure and may get depressed at times, and when they do, they choose a man that has been solid for them. They either choose one, confide in the one they “love” or return to one. BUT, with these drugs, I think a lot of their negative feelings are prevented, making them less vulnerable.

It’s something I’ve noticed among professional women. Sure, maybe my game isn’t what it was, but I think it’s worth addressing. Women’s drugs are changing the game a little bit.

An interesting hypothesis we have here, and one that may go a ways to explaining why there is a growing impression among American men that their women are becoming manlier, sluttier, present-time oriented, and all-around less provocatively charming.

Here’s a lovefact sure to torque a feminist’s fat hamster into a tailspin:

Maxim #27: Beyond beauty, a woman’s attractiveness to men is partly a function of her feminine vulnerability, or her ability to mimic feminine vulnerability.

Corollary to Maxim #27: Men are turned off by overconfident, assertive, proudly self-sufficient women.

Yep, despite the delusional claptrap that feminists want the world to believe, men don’t swoon for women who act like men. Non-manboobed men with hanging testicles don’t, at any rate. Invulnerability is not sexy on women.

Men, at least K-selected men from the frigid Northlands where the cold winds blow and nothing grows for six months, are hard-wired with a protection instinct. We want to guard the carriers of our kingly posterity.

Evolution, therefore, has ensured that men respond viscerally to beautiful, weak women needing protection. A woman in need rallies a man’s ready seed.

Enter antidepressants. Suddenly women all over the sub-veneer tribal landscape are feeling invincible, unstoppable, and perfectly capable on their own. “No means no, creeper!” The manly protective (beta) instinct which warms the hearts of biochemically natural women leaves SSRI drugged-up simulacra of women feeling indifferent, even antagonistic, to the same signals of stoically masculine benefaction.

Multiply this effect a hundredfold in the homeland of the SWPL: The big blue whitening cities of the coasts, where every vibrantly atomized lawyercunt and her bovine cockblock are hopped up on happy happy happy pills. No joke, I’d bet 80% of Obama Country college-grad white chicks are dazed and confused with the help of Big Father Pharma. That percentage jumps to 99% when you expand the age range to include spinsters with two or more cats aka alpha male substitutes.

All successful game requires, in lesser or greater dose, the deployment, consciously or otherwise, of psychological tactics which raise the man’s relative status, lower the woman’s relative status, or both. This is a fact of the nature of the sexes, and it exists because the lifeblood of lust is fed to men and women by different veins. What excites a woman — the challenging company of a higher value, dominant man — is different than what excites a man — the company of a coy, vulnerable, pretty woman. You can rail to the ends of the earth about this fallen state of humanity, but you will never change it, not as long as there are two sexes evolved with differing reproductive goals.

It makes sense, then, that drugs which create a disturbance in the sexual polarity force would also have a downstream effect on courtship, both the traditional and the modern game styles of mate acquisition. A less vulnerable-feeling woman is a woman less receptive to beta provider game, and — this is getting deep into CH theory of modern dating dynamics territory — more receptive to sexy alpha bounder game.

An artificially happy and confident woman is, in short, a no-game-having beta male’s worst nightmare.

(A few of you wags might say that SSRIs are helping turn the US from a Euro mating market to an African mating market, where sky high self-esteem absent any supporting evidence is the norm.)

As a visionary acolyte of Le Chateau, you want to know how to make this new social reality work for you. (Some of you want to change it back to where it was before it turned wicked, but that is a concern for wise old men with rerouted energies.) A good start is dread game, which is the seducer’s answer to invulnerable women.

Some other proto-men, like the scalzied followers of male feminists, take the opposite tack, and submit themselves completely to the whim of Tsarina Bombas, in hopes, apparently, that their utter prostration would excite in women the pity fuck compulsion before it triggers their active repulsion reflex.

A specific skill of modern seduction, as channeled through game, will therefore need to be (sadly from a certain perspective) the ability to evoke, in pinprick psychological jabs, sadness, fear, worry and self-doubt in the Happy Harlots of Late Hour America. If you lack this skill, you’ll find more cynical men stealing your lamb meat off your white linened table.

Or, you could just wait out the coming collapse in your Galtian gulch, and watch the feckless loverboys starve in the streets live-streamed, as the newly vulnerable women rediscover the value of your warm hearth. But by that time, you’ll have stuccoed the entirety of your masturbatorium.

The antidepressant ruination of American women is a theory worth investigating, particularly in light of observational evidence in favor. Perhaps enterprising readers will unearth studies which connect the dots. Or perhaps they’ll just say “what the fuck”, and give the Supergirls a double dose of ego-smashing sexytime.

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A Dying Culture’s Malignant Tumors

Prepare to glimpse into the belching maw of the Dystopia Abyss…

‘For reasons unfathomable to the court,’ BethMarie Retamozzo, 34, ‘would rather have [her boyfriend] in her life than to reunite with her children,’ judge wrote in Aug. 8 order.

The background:

A white single mom (if photo is accurate) has amassed a grand total of seven children by at least three different men, one white, one hispanic, one black.

This model mom is trying to regain custody of two of her bastard spawn, who are now under the care of her parents.

Her current boyfriend is a Class A badboy who has hit one of the kids with a belt and exposed himself to another.

She ignored her own protection order which she had against her boyfriend to be with him, and lied to the court about it, thus violating a court order barring the boyfriend from being present during her visits with the children.

WIth the help and/or incompetence of her visit supervisor/landlord, single mom abducts her kids and heads for a truck stop in South Carolina, where cops eventually catch up with her thanks to the trail of texts she sent to her boyfriend along the entire trip.

This is dysgenic idiocracy accelerated to warped speed. Every one of these losers is a cancer feeding on the soul of a once-healthy culture, which we all pay for the pleasure. And the elite, safely ensconced behind private schools, egregious zoning laws and sky high rents, mock from a safe distance, unwilling or unable to grasp how their policies and ideological pronouncements encourage the downward spiral, or how their sanctuaries shrink by the day, their overrun imminent.

I met an orphan from a deracinated land
Who said, ‘A mother and a judge in robes
Stand in family court. Near them at the table,
Half mad, a sadistic lawyer lies, whose greed
And rubbing hands and sneer of cold command
tell that its benefactor well its interests read
Which yet survive, stamped on these broken wards,
The handout that enslaves them and the heart that is bled.
And on the chamber door these words appear:
‘My name is Feminism, daughter of Equalism:
Look on my works, ye merry, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that cultural wreck, shameless and bare,
The lone and empty homes stretch far away”.

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Are White Women The Gold Standard In Beauty?

Commenter FeministX, Indian woman (she would be offended if you called her “Indian-American”, as that would be too disparaging of her vibrancy privilege) says,

Based on media attention, it doesn’t seem like white women have been the gold standard for a long time. Doesn’t seem like blond women were ever the gold standard as neither Raquel Welch nor Sophia Loren were blond and they were beauties of yesteryear. Of fair women, it’s really difficult to see how nordic women were ever more attractive than slavic women.

It seems like all caucasoid groups can produce 10s though the average female attractiveness surely differs across groups. Salma Hayek is half lebanese half mexican. Monica Belluci is Italian and black haired. Aishwarya Rai is south Indian. Adriana Lima is a latina mix that includes black and native. Even Vanessa Williams looked like a 10 to me in the early 90s as her face is very caucasoid.

Personally, I’m not sure if Ive ever seen a 100% east asian or 100% sub saharan woman with a 10 face. But to me it looks like caucasoid groups can all produce beauties of the same grade A+ caliber. Across different caucasoid groups, 10s look sort of similar to each other despite the difference in skin tone. They seem to be the standard of beauty, not a particular race.

There are three methods for determining if a race’s women are the globalized gold standard in physical attractiveness:

1. Direct measurement

There is substantial evidence that beauty is quantifiable and measurable. Direct measurement of various facial ratios found in women from around the world would tell us which race’s women came closest to meeting the beauty ideal. This method would result in the most accurate results, but many religious believers in equalism would go to their graves denying in the face (heh) of all scientific evidence and common sense that beauty has an objective basis. It is likely this sort of scientific inquiry will not be done in our lifetimes.

2. Media exposure

The premise is simple: The most desirable women are the ones most represented in mass media as icons of beauty. If Unavision and Korean beauty pageants are any indication, white women (and facsimiles of white women) are beloved in large swaths of the non-white world. In fact, based on media presence, it seems the only areas of the world where the beauty of white women *isn’t* idealized are in the homelands of whites: the Anglosphere and Europe.

The downside to using this method to determine white women’s relative attractiveness is the result-skewing effects of propaganda. The media both reflects cultural taste, and molds it in the image that the gatekeepers of social discourse want it to go. So a media blitz to, say, elevate the desirability of Aboriginal women would not be fairly representative of their attractiveness to the world’s men.

3. Male preference

Outside of direct measurement, this is the method that will yield results closest to reality. Watch what men do, not what they say. Which women do men from around the world prefer to gaze at? Which women do men prefer to bang? Marry? Etc. For that, we can look at porn stats to see if white women are disproportionately represented. Another method is to examine the historical sex slavery data to find out, contra FeministX, if white women have or haven’t been the “gold standard” in attractiveness for a long time.

Peter Frost has a series of post looking into this very question, and the results are sure to stick another shiv into the black hearts of beauty relativists: White women (and whiter women) have historically been desired as concubines and sex slaves by non-white men.

***

Putting it all together — (limited) direct measurement data, total media exposure, and male preference (both current and historical) — the conclusion is hard to escape: White women are indeed the global gold standard in beauty. There are exceptions, of course, and not every white woman is beautiful (far from it, and less so today thanks to the obesity epidemic), but on a large scale analysis, white women appear to be the women that all the world’s men want, and the women that the world’s women want to be.

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