Contraption

I didn’t bother unhooking her bra. I never do anymore. I pulled it off her like a t-shirt. As I’m squeezing her boobs (and taking a mental note of her remaining “years-to-sag” based on a complicated formula I devised involving underside crease length, armpit spillover when prone, and depth of press), I glance over at her bedside table and notice an unusual object illuminated by the thrift shop lamp. It was a huge, purple vibrator — the luxury model, by the looks of it — with ridges and nubs and hooks and multiple arms sticking out from it, like a saguaro cactus.

I’m pretty sure there was even a scrolling LED screen. It sat there nonchalantly like a potted plant, or a paperweight. Wow, this is embarrassing, I thought. She forgot to put it away. It was so large and ridiculous that I had to interrupt our foreplay to ask her about it.

“Um, that’s quite a contraption you have over there. Just… laying out.”

“Oh yeah, that’s my little toy.” She didn’t sound embarrassed. “I use it every Sunday to masturbate. I can cum ten times with that baby.”

“Ten times? Straight through, or spread out over the day?”

“Like, within an hour or so.”

“Yeah. Impressive.” I tried to figure why her naughty “secret” wasn’t more titillating to me. Back when I was 18 this sort of discovery would have been exciting. Oh, yeah, I would have thought, This chick is kinky! She’s gonna do all sorts of crazy shit in bed! Now that I’m older and more discerning of women I sleep with, a giant purple saguaro vibrator staring at me from across the room doesn’t make me more turned-on by the woman who uses it. In fact, just the opposite. I lower my estimation of her as a worthy girl in whom I would be happy to take out on creative, exciting dates. Ladies, this is what a man thinks of you when he notices your purple saguaro and you don’t seem fazed by him discovering it:

1. novelty seeking (slut)
2. sexually adventurous (slut)
3. horny all the time (slut)
4. unconcerned about men’s opinions of her (good god, what a slut)

Now 1 – 3 aren’t problems if the girl possesses reasonable degrees of those urges, or if you’re just looking for an uncomplicated fling. You don’t want to hitch your weenie wagon to a frigid ice queen. Number 4 is a flashing red light that she is a cheating whore at heart. Any girl who can’t be bothered to take the two seconds worth of effort to hide her absurd sex toys when a man comes over is a girl who won’t think twice about cheating on you. Even if most girls aren’t delicate, precious chaste creatures, you at least want the girl you are dating to pretend like she is and acknowledge your opinion of her matters — and one thing that matters very much to guys, even if they won’t admit it to the girl’s face, is that the girl he is with isn’t the town orifice. Men want their women, at a bare minimum, to take token stabs at modesty. It’s endearing to us and suggests you will be worth keeping around. We don’t want women to embrace their sluttiness as if it were a postmodern badge of honor. A good woman understands this and heeds a man’s romantic sensibilities.

The trick for men is finding a balance in women between unrepressed sexuality and faithful frigidity. Too much of the former = cumguzzling slut. Too much of the latter = blue balls. A proudly displayed purple saguaro says “I’m a slut, and you’ll like it.”

I’ve found that the more power I acquire over women, the pickier I’m becoming. I won’t call back a girl who has a purple saguaro on her nightstand. This choosiness has strengthened my character. I’m a better man for it.

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Sarcasm Is Unfeminine

I had the following conversation with “Hal’.

Me: How goes the dating circuit?

Hal: That abrasive girl called me back. Her sarcasm is really grating.

Me: What was it this time?

Hal: She asked me what I did this past weekend. So I told her I went to a Civil War reenactment, and she was like [Hal affected a drippingly caustic tone of voice] “Oh GOD, don’t tell me you were one of those guys who dresses up in the uniform and everything. That’s SOO sexy.”

Me: It’s SOO sexy when girls talk like that.

Hal: It’s unfeminine. It doesn’t make me want to have sex with her, I can tell you that. I explained that I went to watch and learn some history, but she kept being sarcastic. She can’t turn it off. I mean, I know she likes me since she called me, but she can’t talk like a normal human being for one second.

Me: What happened next?

Hal: So I said “Well, what did you do this weekend? Yoga book club? Rescue an orphaned cat?” Then there was this long awkward silence. I relished it. There was no sound. I could hear her thinking on the other end of the phone. Finally, she says “Ach, I’ll just speak to you later in the week” and hangs up.

Me: You need a sweetie-pie. This girl wasn’t it.

Hal: No, she was a vomit-pie.

*****

Sarcasm is a leading indicator of low self esteem in a woman. It is a masculine manifestation driven by the ego that cannot coexist with the inner feminine driven by the heart. A girl who leans on the crutch of sarcasm to thrash her way through a conversation is hiding insecurities behind a phony facade of gritty toughness. She sees the world through a lens of negativity. Her first instinct is to doubt sincerity in others, because she is herself insincere in everything she says and does. When your date wallows in sarcastic “humor”, you will know you are dealing with a girl who is untrusting, manipulative, and incapable of being vulnerable around you. She is afraid you will see right through to her core being, and you will judge. Sarcasm shields her self-doubt from you.

Low self esteem + fear of vulnerability + sarcasm = typical urban woman.

These are the key ingredients of the Bitch. She is inherently unfeminine. Screen for these types early and often, and let the betas suffer the Bitches’ weaknesses. They deserve each other.

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Sarah Palin, The Mirror

This made me laugh:

Yes, Sarah Palin didn’t know what [the Bush Doctrine] is. But neither does Charlie Gibson. And at least she didn’t pretend to know — while he looked down his nose and over his glasses with weary disdain, sighing and “sounding like an impatient teacher,” as the Times noted. In doing so, he captured perfectly the establishment snobbery and intellectual condescension that has characterized the chattering classes’ reaction to the mother of five who presumes to play on their stage.

Memo to Charlie Gibson: Never open your mouth unless you know the shot.

I no longer care about Sarah Palin’s qualifications for the job of VP. I’m just enjoying the overreaching hate she elicits. Not that I would know anything about that…

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Brush With Humanity

This short video was shot at a local German restaurant specializing in a delicious variety of sausages. The woman playing the piano struck me as incredibly ugly. Later, I discovered she was blind when a small child walked up and requested a song — she didn’t look at him but only cocked her ear in his direction and smiled. My lovely guests were emotionally moved.

Listen carefully to the video, particularly toward the end. You will hear her sing with a beautiful lilting voice. The incongruence reminded me of the power of contrast and pleasant surprises. You would do well to keep that lesson in mind in your interactions with women.

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Quality Girl

I’m often asked “What do you consider a quality girl?” This is a good question, if by quality we mean a girl I’d be willing to date long term (>3 months), to invest more than the minimal amount of my time and energy, and to feel secure, if I were so inclined, in committing myself exclusively without worry that she might spread her legs for any random guy who happens to catch her alone on an especially drunken night and says the right things about how good her forehead looks in the reflection of the beer bottle.

Very few… and I mean VERY few… women in DC have met my exacting standards of quality. I’d estimate that of all the girls I’ve dated in this city less than 10% were worthy of my full attention. I’d hazard to guess that if all men held themselves to the same high standards I do and didn’t kowtow to the first chick who deigned to bless them with a crumb of affection there’d be universal agreement among DC men that my 10% figure is accurate. Maybe in flyover country the number of quality girls hits 25%. In Poland it is 80%. The times have changed and quality girls are no longer the norm.

So what makes a quality girl? Well, I know what *doesn’t* make a quality girl.

• She has cheated more than three times in her life, or has cheated more than once on the same boyfriend.
• She forgets to say “thank you” when you buy her a drink. Buying her a second drink confirms her ingratitude.
• She dates around. Dating around — specifically, seeing more than one person concurrently — is a prerogative of men only, for reasons having to do with the greater leverage men need to arm themselves with to compete in a dating market that is fundamentally tilted in favor of women. Any girl who makes a habit of dating more than one guy at a time, especially if the parallel dating lasts longer than one month, in order to milk her options is a bad seed. In all my years of banging, one soulsaving thing I’ve learned is to walk away from any girl who I’ve discovered is also dating other men. Even if I beat the competition and win her over, it never ends well.
• She tells you she has a long distance boyfriend she loves, then proceeds to bang you anyway. A few months later, you see her groping a new guy, and she’s still with her boyfriend. (That relationship is doomed.)
• Her default mode is sarcasm, negativity, coarseness, and shamelessness.
• She spends twice as much time getting ready for a house party than she spends getting ready for a date with you.
• She can’t control her impulse to flirt with other men. Double minus points if she does this in your presence.
• She doesn’t seem nervous undressing in front of you the first time.
• She fucks you on a pretense of less than the sum total of an hour of conversation, and calls you the next day worried that your condomless sex might have given her something. (She’s been down this road before.)
• She is proud to be on the pill and considers her dependence on it a carte blanche slut sanctioner instead of a safety net affection fortifier.
• She is cavalier about casual sex.

A quality girl does the opposite of all the above. She doesn’t cheat, and if she does she has a plausible rationale. But she will still feel bad about it. She is generous when it is risky to be so. She is positive and lifts people up, not pushes them down to lift herself up. She laughs at the absurdity and beauty of the world, but never at the expense of others. She is warm, and this is something that can’t be taught. She says “I love you” early and often out of conviction, not inquisition. She understands that her heart is more important than her pride.

A high quality girl is good for standing by, sticking with, supporting always, loving fully, defending righteously, and if the timing is right, embracing for life to the exclusion of all others. She is the type of girl who can enthrall you with her words alone. She can make you smile over the phone. She can be far away but feel near. She is often discovered in the unlikeliest places, and her magic is the energy that animates her pretty face, rather than the other way around.

Low quality girls are good for fucking, a few laughs, some funny digicam pics, and that’s it. Spare your hard-earned manly capital — your time, your resources, your protection, your commitment, your LOVE — for those few quality girls you might meet if you’re lucky. And speaking as a man who has seen, heard and experienced enough to turn the most naive optimist into a stone cold cynic, if you do meet a girl like that, you would be a fool to pass her up. Her kind is going extinct.

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Butt Pirates, Butt Pats, A Killer Line

If you like very feminine women (and what man doesn’t?), you’ll want to date girls who have gay relatives:

Andrea Camperio Ciani and colleagues at the University of Padua, Italy, showed that the female relatives of homosexual men tend to have more children, suggesting that genes on the X chromosome are responsible.

“It helps to answer a perplexing question – how can there be ‘gay genes’ given that gay sex doesn’t lead to procreation?” says Dean Hamer of the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, who was not involved in the work. “The answer is remarkably simple: the same gene that causes men to like men also causes women to like men, and as a result to have more children.”

Camperio Ciani emphasises that, rather than being a “gay gene”, this unidentified genetic factor is likely to promote sexual attraction to men in both men and women. This would influence a woman’s attitude rather than actually increasing her fertility, making her likely to have more children.

The girl’s attitude is key here. Femininity is not just curves, it’s temperament and personality. When I meet girls now I screen them for how many gay brothers and cousins they have:

“So this girl I used to date was telling me how great it is for her to have a gay brother, which is even better than a best gay boyfriend. Do you have any gay relatives?”

I believe screening for this in girls will mean a more romantic dating life, more affection from the girl, and fewer lawyers in my stable of regulars. In fact, I would bet any chick who is a lawyer has a lot of lesbian relatives.

*****

The downside of being President when people are watching: A girl offers you her ass and you have to politely decline:

Bush knuckled off a couple of lobs, but defending gold medalists Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh gave the chief executive some pointers. Then after a good play, in the tradition of female volleyballers, May-Treanor turned, bent over slightly and offered her bikinied rear-end for the 43rd president to slap.

“Mr. President,” she said, “want to?”

[…]Bush wisely chose instead to brush his hand across the small of May-Treanor’s back.

I’d have slapped, spread, and dry humped her. Of course, as President I’d set up a rendevous later in a secure location where she’d really get my approval for her good play.

I read the comments on some of the news sites to this story. Unsurprisingly to me, most of the negative comments were from women, who used it as an opportunity to bash Bush’s “perviness” and religious leanings. It’s funny how Bush is so unpopular with women, especially young women and feminists, when he did the “right thing” in this situation, and when by all accounts he’s a moral exemplar of the faithful, loyal (beta) husband. And yet a guy like Bill Clinton, who in practice shit all over feminist principles by sexually harassing interns, fucking subordinates, cheating on his wife multiple times, getting blowjobs from women considerably younger than himself, and even coming dangerously close to actual rape, is beloved by women and especially by the very same feminists whose phoniness and moral relativism Clinton showcased for the world. Beautiful. I trust the lesson has not escaped my readers.

bush to ass.

*****

Here is a great line you can tell a girl during the A2 (female to male interest) attraction phase to boost your value:

“I could introduce you to every guy in this room, but I can guarantee that none of them will be as interesting as me.”

Concepts hit: DHV, social status, push-pull. It’s been field tested and proven successful, so give it a try and let me know how it goes.

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How Not To Be An American Woman

When I wrote my perfect woman post, I had Slavic and Caucasus women in mind. Watch this video:

“It has most likely been a light weapon since it’s a minor wound.”

Although the video is grainy, this female reporter looks hot. She has the stunning high relief apple face typical of Slavs that gives me mighty boner. And she has a slender figure that is the norm instead of the exception for non-babushkas in her part of the world.

Ask yourself, how many women do you know who can get shot and continue working in a calm manner without crying or crumpling to the ground helpless? Now… how many HOT women do you know who can do this?

Does this seem like the type of woman who takes Cosmo sex quizzes, who organizes her mammoth shoe collection by hue, who dances on bars, who has had every hole violated and blogs about it, or who gets drunk on margaritas with her aging spinster friends before a marathon night of Sex and the City viewing?

Watch this woman and understand finally why your devalued law degree and non-profit job mean nothing to me.

Not only is she hot and can take a bullet without missing a beat, she probably knows how to cook healthy meals, haul water from the well, and orally please her man. You surmise, correctly, that given her grace under pressure after getting shot she has the strength of character to sacrifice for her children and perform her domestic duties without whining or running to a divorce lawyer at the first sign of her husband not “meeting her needs”. As a man, you will have to be strong for her, very strong, BUT LOOK WHAT YOU GET IN RETURN.

How can the modern American woman possibly compete against this? Answer: She can’t. Which is why cuntastic femicunts are feeling the heat and worked hard behind the scenes and out of the public eye to pass into law the misandrist International Marriage Broker Regulation Act, designed to make it more difficult for an American man to meet a foreign woman with a more feminine and pleasant disposition than the average American woman.

I hope American men are reading this and absorbing the lesson. Flights to East Europe are always available. You know what to do. So… what’s stopping you?

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