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Commenter natphilosopher poses an interesting thought experiment,

What I want to know is, what’s the CH translation factor [for female age versus female fatness]?
I figure, maybe 2-2.5 pounds/year?
A 20 year old who’s 50 pounds overweight against the same woman 20-25 years later, but now she’s lost the extra weight and toned up?

No, better yet, CH, they are both at the end of the bar. It’s the middle of nowhere, so there’s no other action and your stationed here for a while. The newly divorced mother, toned and horny, and the overweight but otherwise hot daughter and two of her overweight friends. The mother is so hot for her age, which is 39, that under the circumstances she appeals to the mighty CH. How many pounds per year does the daughter have to be overweight for the Mom to win CH’s attention?

The variables:

39-year-old mom, slender and toned.

VERSUS

20-year-old daughter, 50 pounds overweight.

Which woman commands not just CH’s turgid attention, but most men’s attention (since the vast majority of men share the same preferences in women)?

In other words, how much fat has to accumulate on a prime nubility young woman before a height-weight proportionate woman twice her age begins to look like a more sexually alluring prospect?

Reminder: Presented with two equally slender women 20 years apart, most men will, given a free choice, choose the younger woman for sex AND love. (yes, both)

The formula is simple: Youth >>>> Cougardom, at a healthy body weight, every time. It gets complicated when we fiddle with the variables and compare a young fatty to an older, age-adjusted hottie.

Thinking hard about this (because neither cougars nor fatties are sexual fantasy material), I conclude that the thin mom would earn the CH rod of approval. Youthful bloom, rare and exquisite as it is, can’t withstand 50 pounds of disfiguring blubber. Wrinkles and sag are no man’s idea of boner-fuel, but the equivalent of Lindy West is like the anti-Viagra: Boners implode into a black hole of flaccidness, from which no seed can escape.

I’d therefore have to agree with natphilosopher’s mathematical elegance: A 20-year-old daughter would have to be 2.5 lbs per year fatter than her 39-year-old mom. But only if her mom is already thin. If the daughter is 50 pounds fatter than her obese mom, that’s a dirigible sideshow no one wants to contemplate puncturing.

50 pounds of superfluous fat is a lot of unsexxxy BBBBBBBBW adipose. What if the daughter is, say, 40 pounds heavier than her twice-as-old slender mom? 30 pounds? 20?

At 40 pounds difference, most men would still opt to bang the thin mom with the extra 20 years.

At 30 pounds difference, the pattern of fat accumulation on the daughter will start to matter. Did her additional 30 pounds settle on her ass and tits, and avoid her face, neck, belly and arms? Then I conclude that even numbers of men would choose the daughter and the mother.

At 20 pounds difference, the same as above applies, but now the daughter’s sheer youthfulness exerts a powerful influence on men’s autonomic desires. Most men will overlook an extra 20 pounds on a 20-year-old if the only alternative is sex with a thin 39-year-old (again, presuming equal facial attractiveness, i.e. bone structure).

At 10 pounds difference, the daughter wins nearly every time.

I hope this answer has cleared up everyone’s questions on the matter of female fatness and female age and their deleterious, and synergistically deflating, effects on men’s libidos.

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It may astound some readers, but yer ‘umble instigator has no experience fucking fat chicks, rare one-night hummers from borderline chubsters notwithstanding to the contrary. Of course, no man needs to know what it’s like to fuck a fatty; our vision is keen and our imaginations sufficient to piece together a porky pastiche.

However, it does serve as a helpful reminder, especially to the older gentlemen in the audience who may’ve mistakenly jettisoned BMI standards for the reward of perky youth, to paint in technicolor detail the morbid flesh tsunamis that roll during sex with a fatty. So we here at CH turn to the experience of readers who have submerged themselves in the corpulent deep.

Reader Shortest Straw dishes the dirt,

The only problem with fat asses is their only sex position is missionary. If they’re on top of you it’s just nasty, and if it’s doggy style, well, there’s nothing quite like watching the waves propagate across their behinds. Funny as fuck when you first see it but then it gets distracting and pretty soon the boner is gone.

***

If I’m drunk enough, I can [fuck a fatty]. I get into thinking about how happy they are to be getting fucked.

There’s a certain line even I won’t cross, though. You see, it’s self limiting: The drunker I have to get, the more likely I won’t be able to get it up anyway, and the more likely I’ll be to just pass out.

However, a combination of viagra and ritalin both offsets those two effects, and pushes me into an alternate reality. If I remembered it better, I could describe it. Let’s just say I’ve had laundry to do in the morning.

Apparently, to fuck a fatty you need to have a sense of humor and a tolerance for ODing on mind-altering pharmaceuticals.

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Leading sociologists like Charles Murray have examined the social phenomenon of cognitive stratification — the generational separating into two classes, or even subspecies, of the smart from the less smart. It’s considered a bad thing (and I agree) because an IQ elite will not just amass an unequal amount of national wealth, but their precious IQ genes will get trapped into a small caste instead of spread to some degree around the general population. There is also the issue of dysgenic fertility among the overeducated women of the cognitively gated class.

The causes for cognitive stratification are manifold, but there’s one very plausible mechanism which I have yet to see discussed by mainstream white knights pundits.

The Southerner writes,

attractive 21 year old white women exist for marriage? By the looks of things they’re all in college capitalizing on their smv, therefore wasting their fertility and become un-marriageable (and untouchable). I don’t think I’ve ever seen a young post high-school white woman not in college and who wasn’t at least overweight.

Can someone tell me I’m wrong?

One of my theories is that female obesity is a big (heh) contributor to cognitive stratification of SWPL elites from other whites. If more working class and lower class women were thinner and sexier, more lower AND higher class men would happily marry them. This is particularly the case for those sassy smart lower class girls who could easily entrance lonely high IQ SWPL bachelors if these girls weren’t all so goddamned fat.

The same goes for single moms, even the thin ones. Men are loath to commit to single moms, sensibly figuring that her little bastards are romance killers and there’s no upside in raising another man’s fly-by-night spawn.

The sub-elite classes are filled with fatties and single moms, and this goes quite a ways to explaining the abandonment of marriage by the men who have these loser women as part of their social milieu.

Unemployed and unemployable men, driven by mass brown world immigration, are doubtless a factor in declining marriage rates among the cognitive outcasts, but due diligence should be paid to female obesity and single momhood as equal, if not greater, contributors to the decline in social stability of non-elite whites. The only reason I can think that this tenderhearted Heartistian worldview is studiously overlooked is because it gives conservatives the hives to shift some blame onto women and their poor life decisions.

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Well-meaning tradcons with white knight complexes like Charles Murray and Ross Douthat wonder why more men aren’t MANNING UP and getting married. They say it’s because too many men are jobless.

Maybe. But there’s another, less Hivemind-hospitable explanation for the marriage dearth: Too many women are fat. Groom looks like he just found out he’s the designated prison bitch.

***

Commenter negro jesus writes,

True or not, I read that one of the original purposes of the best man was to privately ask the groom just before the wedding, “Do you REALLY want to do this??” If the groom said no, the best man would stand in front of the crowd and announce that the wedding was off. That’s what this poor bastard needed.

So, if true, the best man acted as sort of an alpha male wingman who would cockblock an ominous nuptial, but not before getting the green light from the gloomy groom. Outstanding. The West could learn some lessons from its disappearing traditions.

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British women (and American women moreso) really have been getting beefier over the past few generations.

[T]he average modern woman would seem like a giant to her great-great-grandmother, because in the past 80 years all measurements of the female body have increased dramatically.Yet it’s nothing to do with genetics – simply a result of the way we live.

Marilyn Monroe was not the “curvy” woman feminists love to hold up as a fat apologist icon. She was thinner and daintier than today’s modern woman in every conceivable way.

So how have diet and lifestyle conspired to have such a rapid effect on evolution?

Environmental shocks.

1920s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 31-20-32

Despite widespread poverty, the Twenties’ diet was in some ways healthy. Convenience food did not exist and meals, which involved much peeling and chopping of vegetables, were higher in carbohydrates.

A typical breakfast consisted of porridge or bread and butter. Lunch – the main meal of the day – might have been meat pie with cabbage and potatoes, followed by apple pie and custard. Tea would have been lighter – perhaps a pork pie or scrambled eggs – with a snack of bread and cheese at bedtime.

In the Twenties, people burned up their calories with physical activity from dawn to dusk. In streets largely free of traffic, children skipped and played hopscotch and tag. Sports were a highly-valued part of the school curriculum, with compulsory PE for all.

Almost everybody walked or cycled to work, and for the many women who worked in the industrial areas of the North, there was a daily grind of physical labour at the factory.

The housewife did not need a personal trainer to keep the surplus pounds at bay. In a world before vacuum cleaners and washing machines, housework kept her trim. There was coal to be fetched, grates to be blacked, floors to be scrubbed, carpets to be beaten – as well as the Monday wash with washboard and mangle.

Moving onto the next generation:

1940s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 33-21-33

[…] Again, it was their highly energetic lifestyle that kept Forties women slim. There was no petrol for cars, and people cycled or walked for miles every day. Girls thought little of walking ten miles home after a Saturday night dance.

With their men off fighting, fashion changed. The curvy feminine look to cheer returning heroes became the order of the day, with fitted suits and belted flowery dresses to show off the waist, and the Flapper’s flattening bodice giving way to the circle-stitched bra.

And Lena’s getting laaaaarrger!!

1960s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 34-24-35

[…] Our lifestyles became less energetic too. Housewives cleaned their homes at the push of a button as washing machines and vacuum cleaners become the norm, while children fell victim to the Left-wing educationists’ decree that competitive sport was ‘divisive’ and state schools saw their playing fields sold off for housing. Before much longer, experts would be talking of the unimaginable – rising rates of obesity in childhood.

The first steps were made on the road towards the classic modern English pear shape, as, for the first time, the bottom of the hourglass figure became bigger than the top.

We’re gonna need a bigger buffet.

1980s

AVERAGE STATISTICS: 35-24-37

By the time the Eighties came along, British woman was well on the way to an irretrievable pear-shape, with her hips measuring two inches more than her bust.

Snacking, eating at one’s desk, in front of the TV and even on public transport became increasingly common, and the habit of three meals a day was jettisoned. The new-style snacks were high in fats and sugars, and even apparently ‘healthy’ foods, such as breakfast cereals and yoghurts, are high in ‘hidden’ calories.

Physical outdoor games for children started to look very uncool in comparison to a video or computer game, and exercise experts reported that Eighties children were dangerously unfit compared to their grandparents.

Nuke the jabba from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.

2001

By the year 2000, the pearshape has become even more marked, with the average waistsize having ballooned four inches in 20 years.

Feminist concern trolls wonder why men are “dropping out” of the marriage market. Well, you don’t need a degree in human physiology to spot a blubbery, boner-killing trend.

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In yesterday’s post, one of the beta male of the month contenders was a guy who had lifted a hideous chubster onto his shoulders (“Do I even lift? Why, yes, I do lift!”) so that she could flash the crowd of gawkers a pair of bee stings that Manboob Emeritus David Fatrelle laughs at.

Interestingly, as a reader pointed out, there’s a hidden shiv in this photo if you look closely and direct your attention to the grinning man in the black hoodie, front and center.

“Da fuckin’ tits and bellybutton look like a face!”

Sure, a chubster publicly undulating her naked rolls will achieve “attention” from men, but not all of it, in fact not much of it, will be the sort of attention she wants. Men gawk at naked fat chicks like they gawk at car accidents, or at Kramer’s self-portrait. “She’s a loathsome offensive beast, yet I can’t look away.”

So for all the fat and ugly and manjawed lawyer attention whores who like to clit-stroke on cue about the surfeit of male attention they get, it’s helpful to keep in mind that a lot of the so-called “attention” they think they receive from men is nothing more than the furtive ridicule of happy-go-lucky rogues.

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There’s a lot of chatter among the cuntocracy about how men aren’t “manning up” and doing their duty to marry off all the single ladies. But maybe, just maybe, part of the reason for this male abdication of the sacred institution of marriage is the poor quality of the women on offer.

Just how bad is the marriageable American female market? Jay in DC writes,

‘Hot 99.5′ is basically the hippest and most relevant DC radio station in that it has the youngest listener demographic.

They are currently holding a contest for “new brides” to post their hottest photo to win the contest (1,000 dollar prize). Now granted, more intelligent chicks are probably NOT going to put their pic out there. But there are about 100 submissions up there already so this is a pretty good cross-section of not only DC, but really the US.

Behold men, and look upon your ruination. Betas WILL marry anything. ANYTHING, and this is what keeps the perpetual cycle of disgusting fat entitled average americunts reproducing.

I really advise you take the 15 minutes or so to REALLY look at every photo. This is our future. Out of those 100 photos there are FIVE women I would date, a few more I would fuck, and 3 I would marry if they had the classic femininity to go with their looks.

That is a SAD ASS RATIO. 97 to 3 in a pretty good statistical sample are marriageable? Welcome to the USSA.

http://www.hot995.com/contests/summer-bridal-showdown/297456/Vote/photoDetail/402513

p.s. Don’t bother posting comments, they will be shot down in seconds, just enjoy the grotesquery that is these women in bridal gowns.

Browsing the blushing attention whores, I’d have to concur with Jay’s assessment; the majority of the American East Coast brides are beastly. Beauty and the beast, inverted.

Beta males won’t marry anything. That is a stretch. Ugly, older, masculine, and fatter women DO pay marriage marketplace costs that you won’t be able to readily discern in their smiling wedding day photos. The hidden nature of the cost does not preclude its exorbitance.

And what is that exorbitant cost? Settling. It’s all of the better men with whom the post-prime, pre-Wall, porky-princess American bride had to give up hope of fettering to a marital contract. As age, size and attitude veer away from the feminine ideal beloved by the vast majority of men, women will find it harder — sometimes impossibly harder — to land the man of their dreams. They will have to settle for second, third, or even 30th best if they want to be married at all.

And so what you don’t see in those blushing blimp pics are the men they truly wanted who pumped and dumped them, or ignored them for their prettier friends. What you also don’t see are the hapless losers who vowed last-ditch lifelong monogamy to a land whale in exchange for avoiding the walking death of incel, as their hearts privately sank away in forlorn regret.

That is the individual, human dynamic. What about the big picture? Interesting — in the horrible sense of the word — things happen when the supply of attractive women drastically shrinks in proportion to the supply of megafauna, feminists, careerist shrikes, manjaws, and bitter spinsters. When the marriage market essentially become an outpost of Wal-Mart (Wall-Mart!) — cheap, throwaway, high fructose corn syrup goods — men experience what could be described as an exogenous “restriction of range” problem when they set out to find marriageable women.

Instead of a normally functioning sexual market where men are presented with many options among marriageable women of varying degrees of attractiveness (who nonetheless meet the men’s threshold for long-term commitment worthiness), what transpires in a shit market like what we have now is a massive limitation in men’s acceptably attractive mate choices and a replacement with a dichotomous mate choice system. In a dichotomous mate choice system, beta males no longer have the luxury of choosing between, say, a feminine slender 6 and a tomboyish slender 7. Now they’re restricted to choosing between involuntary celibacy and marriage to a ghastly apparition.

Unfortunately for the progress of the human species, the male sex drive is so strong that more than a few hard-up betas and omegas will choose the sad, dreary marriage to a circus sideshow over the soul-crushing solitude of sexlessness.

Beauty is truth. CH is among the greats in asserting the truism of this plea for an aesthetic sensibility, and for good reason. When ugliness of body is the norm, ugliness of character and, ultimately, of nation is sure to follow.

Related:

obesity-map-GIF-j

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