Female Beauty From 5 To 7

Reader Hair Slicked Back With Swag So Fresh (great handle) wrote to ask if CH could revive the posts that asked readers to rank female beauty in photos. The goal in those posts — achievement realized — was to demonstrate how men pretty much share the same taste in women.

You may think it obvious that men share the same gut reaction of what constitutes female beauty and female ugliness, and therefore not a subject worth bludgeoning to death, but the world is full of — and filling up more by the day with — defectives, misfits and losers who tirelessly propagandize pretty lies like “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” and “there’s a good man for every woman” and “sexual attraction is a matter of personal taste” and “grow old along with me the best is yet to be” and “BBWs have no trouble attracting men”. A few soul-shivving CH posts puncturing the bubble of platitudes that ensconces the degenerate freak mafia is but a ripple in the tidal wave of RAWMUSCLEDELUSION that is the hallmark of current Western intellectual discourse.

Swag writes,

Hello CH, I’d like to commission a blog entry regarding these photos [ed: see pics below].

First of all, what do you see in these pictures?

Next, which of the two is hotter?

Finally, why did you pick one over the other?

Swag is getting at an interesting point about female beauty and men’s universal sexual preferences in his choice of these two particular women as ranking subjects. Although the rankings of homely women (4s and lower) and very attractive women (8s and higher) are largely agreed upon by the vast fantastic majority of men from all cultural and racial backgrounds, this near universal shared clear male preference gets more muddied in the fat part of the female beauty bell curve. Right there in the populous (YOUNG, SLENDER*) middle — where female 5s, 6s and 7s dominate the sea of snatch — the marginal differences in objective physical beauty that distinguish one girl from another in such a large population tend to exaggerate underlying idiosyncratic male tastes.

While general universal female attractiveness rules still mean that a randomly chosen typical 6 will not have as many, or as high quality, sexual marketplace options as a randomly chosen typical 7, there can be individual exceptions to this rule resulting from men’s particular preferences along minor, mostly cosmetic, beauty metrics. For example, a blonde 6 might get a man that both she and a brunette 7 want, simply because the man has a particularly strong preference for blondes. But that blonde 6 will likely lose out to a brunette 8 because the difference in facial beauty and how that appeals to universal primal male desire is great enough to overcome the individual man’s relatively weaker idiosyncratic preference for blondes.

*A few important points need to be made here.

First, obesity is skewing the female sexual market. Most American women are now chubby or worse. So the middle part of the female beauty curve in 2013 is now shifted to the left of where that same curve would have been in, say, 1960. The fat (heh) part of the female beauty curve is now shifted to where the dregs of womanhood — the 1s, 2s and 3s — Jabbanate. It’s no longer a bell curve but a pear curve. The 4s, 5s, 6s and 7s are still representative of the average of female beauty, but their total share in the female population has been sadly, tragically, whittled down to endangered species status.

Second, whenever we talk of female beauty rankings we are implicitly talking about women under the age of 30. Yeah, yeah there are some attractive 40-year-olds out there… for their age. Save it. Those attractive 40-year-olds were even hotter when they were 20-years-old. The wall spares no one, not even Monica Belucci. At best, the wall only hits some women harder and earlier than other women. This is a universal law about as predictable and unavoidable as the law of gravity. Sure, there are a few rare exceptions of women who miraculously got better looking into their late 20s or early 30s, but these biological rarities only serve to throw into stark relief the dictatorial governance of the primary SMP rule.**

**Many of these female late-bloomer exceptions are of former fatties who lost a ton of weight. A slender 35-year-old will be better looking to most men than a fatty 20-year-old version of herself.

Finally, we must note that there is one other group of rarified women whose ethereal beauty provokes a “narcissism of small differences” reaction in men: the hard 10s. 5s, 6s and 7s may cause some minor disagreement among men by dint of their numerical advantage in the female population, but hard 10s provoke the most heated disagreement. One man’s 10 is another man’s 9.5, and GODDAMNIT he is going to let you know that 0.5 points makes all the difference in the world. Male personal whim tends to get exaggerated to outsized importance when contemplating the beauty of truly exquisite creatures.

Anyway, onto the beauty ranking. Two girls are featured, in two different photos. They represent the slightly right-of-middle part of the female beauty curve. The objective here is not an absolute ranking of the two girls, but a relative one.

You, the readers, will decide which of these two girls, both of whom are fairly close together in looks and both of whom are representative of the majority of young, thin women, is the better looking of the two. Will the voting show significant disagreement? Or are men better at distinguishing, say, 6s from 7s than we give them credit for?

Here’s a close-up shot:

After you have voted in the above poll, write in the comments what distinguishing features of either girl swayed your judgment. What details about these two girls pushed you to vote one or the other as more attractive? Be as specific as possible. (Note to women voters: “specific” does not mean “she has a sexy chi”.)

Give that some thought, and then vote in this poll:

Results and analysis will be posted later.

UPDATE

Early return poll results are in and the winner, by an overwhelming margin of victory, is…

The girl on the left! And that’s a good thing for a lot of you guys because the girl on the right…

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IS A MAN, BABY!

😆

Reader Swag follows up:

Not everything is what it seems.  You’ve been duped!  The pictures do not contain two women, but rather, a man and a woman!  The woman is the one in the white top and the man is the one in the black top.  The man underwent hormone replacement therapy to turn into a tranny, and has been living as a woman for the past 8 months.  The tranny’s actually wearing a wig until his real hair grows out long enough to look like a woman’s hair.  They’re siblings, and the black top brother is only a few years older than the white top sister.  Nice contrast, I know.

Let’s see what some readers had to say.

“the one on the right’s eyes seem to show an IOI but the one on the left is more deadpan.”

😆 😆

“And rightie is a 6 based on having a tight body in a world where 98 out of 100 women are fat or obese.”

😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 Tranny hotter than fat chicks. What more needs to be said about fat chick prospects?

“People saying the one on the right is a 5? Really? Nobody’s standards are that delusionally high. 99% of the dudes here would gladly fuck either of them and be thankful for it.”

I don’t know that feel, bro.

“Girl in the white top is a quick fuck I’d maybe LTR the girl in black but cheat on her a lot.”

😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 😆 ….

….oh god…

…*phew*…

…wait a sec…. ok…

😆 😆 😆 😆

“The one on the right’s nose and general facial structure makes me think she’s a former man, to be honest. At first she looks quite good but if you look for a few seconds it just doesn’t feel quite right.”

Commenter Loc wins the thread and spares his masculine essence horrible indignity.

This being CH, an April Fool’s joke is not just a joke. There’s an underlying message. And that message is this:

Universal male attraction standards are vindicated again.

You may wonder how this is so, considering that men were arguing over the “beauty” of a tranny, and a few benighted souls even voted in favor of the tranny. Well, note how overwhelming is the victory for the real girl. Then notice how many men in the comments said that “something just wasn’t right” about the girl on the right. This person is probably the best looking, or rather the most realistic looking, tranny you will ever see, and STILL he couldn’t quite pull it off. Most men can pick up on the subtlest facial cues that differentiate plain from pretty women and, yes, uncannily fake women from real women.

Look, too, at the poll results for the features that readers said most informed their ranking judgments. Body, jawline, chin, eyes and noses were the big (heh) overriding facial characteristics that pinged men’s (and women’s) mate (or competitor) attractiveness triggers. As Swag writes,

What you should have noticed about the girl wearing the gray/white top:

– All-natural 32Ds (Titty-fuck, anyone? :P)
– Smaller facial features (softer jawline, pointed chin, modest cheekbones, etc.)
– Large and warm eyes that sparkle in the light
– Fuller and wetter bottom lip
– Congruent hairline parted close to the middle
– Tasteful fake nails on long, slender female fingers
– Sexy, hourglass figure within the ideal BMI range
– Feminine display of ownership by cradling the waist of the girl in the black top

What you should have noticed from girl wearing the black top:

– Flat, pancake tits undeserving of a cup size mention
– Wider, more angular facial features (manjaw, uppercut-ready chin, prominent cheekbones, etc.)
– Smaller, darker eyes devoid of that bright spark
– Flat and chapped bottom lip
– Incongruent hairline which doesn’t sit right
– Unpolished nails on short, stubby man hands
– Straight, column-like hips with the sex appeal of a balance beam
– Masculine display of ownership by draping the arm around the shoulders of girl in gray/white top

Female beauty is not subjective, except in the metaphysical sense that an individual’s neurons have to operate to perceive the beauty. A transsexual can only be perceived as womanly if he alters his body and face to such a radical degree that he begins to conform with innate biologically grounded standards already in place in the brains of men. The very fact that transsexual men have to conceal or otherwise surgically reconstruct their male features to more resemble female features in order to “pass” with straight men is hard real world evidence that female beauty is objective and male sexual attraction preferences are universal. And even then… the ruse is exceedingly difficult to pull off.

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Hamster Of The Month

CH’s last Hamster of the Month was none other than punching bag connoisseur Rihanna, who hamsterly rationalized her way right back into the loving-hating arms of the artist who turned her face into soggy oatmeal. Now we’ve got a new contender in the ring, and this lady’s jacked hamster might just be the rodent to take down the reigning champ.

In a BBC News article about readers who supposedly *cho cho chose* celibacy, a 46-year-old woman opened the cage and let her little fella out for an aimless, zig zagging stroll. The trail of tiny poops it left behind smells the tale.

I am a pretty 46-year-old woman, single and I haven’t had sex in almost four years. When I was in my 20s and 30s I had enough sex to last three lifetimes. I rarely went a week without finding someone to shack up with. Then I got older and more picky and I found that most of the guys just weren’t worth the time or the energy. The whole thing got old. I never found anyone compatible with me and I certainly was never willing to compromise my personality and my priorities for a man, so there you have it. I’m actually happier because I don’t date anymore and I’m free to enjoy life with myself. I have a great relationship with myself and my life. Sex really isn’t all that. American Woman, Chicago, Illinois, US

Please have a gander at her face shot on the BBC website (fourth picture down). That chin, guy! Her hamster is crazed. Hopped up on laced pellets and Five Eras Energy. When one is dealing with a rabid female rationalization hamster in the wild, one must take caution when capturing and tagging the varmint. Once caught, the hamster can be squeezed until concentrated delusion juice is extracted, and then the juice mixed with the proper reagents to produce the distilled truthful equivalent of the rationalization. CH lab technicians have already done the dirty work for you, and the following is the woman’s honest and true feelings translated from her hamsterese:

I am a 48-year-old pale shadow of the unattractive manjaw I once was, involuntarily single and I haven’t had real sex besides the penetration of my mouth, anus, or vagina in a bathroom stall at the Early Bird Buffet in Pensacola FL in almost ten years. When I was in my 20s and 30s I had too many soul-crushing empty pump and dumps with meth heads and aspiring rappers to last twenty pointless lifetimes. I rarely went a week without finding some total loser to bitterly cling to. Then I got even older than old and pickier at a time of my life when I should have been dropping my standards, and it slowly dawned on me that all of the love em and leave me losers I happily spread for just weren’t going to stick around and put a ring on it. My whole body and energy level got old. I never found anyone willing to put up with my acid bath personality and cauliflower mug, and I certainly was too selfish and too delusional to budge in the direction of making myself more appealing to the increasingly beta men realistically available to me, so there you have it. I’m actually sadder because I don’t date anymore and I’m fated to suffer my terrible loneliness. I have a hallucinatory relationship with myself and the last leg of my life. Loveless celibacy really isn’t all that.  – American Woman, Team Edward, Fatopia, Comingapartville, US

*shudder* So painful to read. Take this truth serum away and lock it somewhere safe. Bring back the hamster! That cute fuzzball is a lot more fun to watch. Haha… look at him go… round and round the wheel. Aaaahhhh…. so much better. Hold the Xanax.

Some readers ask, “Why do you give so much shit to obviously deluded and tragic headcases? What harm is she doing to anyone but herself?”

Harm is a conveniently vague word that’s often used by those who don’t understand the concept of externalities. A functioning nation is comprised of broadly like-minded and temperamentally similar people. The collective character of those people determines the character of the nation. In the course of time and the tumult of events, a people’s character can shift to accommodate new incentives. A nation will, during these shifts, follow more or less a path of lies or a path of truth, as befits the psychological needs of her people and the monied interests of her ruling elite. When the willing embrace of lies predominate, the cohesiveness of the nation frays under the strain and her aesthetic bounty fritters from neglect. Inexorably, too slowly for the average person to sufficiently apprehend to refuse her servitude, the cacophony of lies begins to demand its tribute. And that tribute is a steep price, indeed. Paid sometimes in blood, but more often in the humiliating betrayal of good sense and in the surrender of self-assurance. A resignation of the spirit accompanies the disheartening assent to moral neutering.

In the gloomy twilight of receding greatness, what was once the lonely wail of the societal defective harshly but rightly estranged from the common good becomes the discordant battle hymn for a broken people bereft of purpose and vulnerable to experimentation with novel hierarchies of morality and aesthetics.

American Woman and her Rationalization Hamster is a propagator and a product of that novel hierarchy of twisted morality. Her self-medicating lies are an insatiable mind virus that won’t stop their multiplying at the contours of her body. The virus will leap into the ether, strengthened on the gruel of sophistry, into the unhappy, inviting, doubt-whipped minds of those teetering on the precipice of postmodern annihilation.

Her lies to herself become the lies that others tell themselves, until the cancer has culturally metastasized and there is no longer a way to distinguish the self-told lies from the lies meant to deceive converts.

If you believe that harmless little delusions are in fact the craggy building blocks of degeneracy total, then you grip your CH-issued shiv of sadism, press the tip against the beating breast of the poisoned id, whisper tenderly into the deformed monster’s ear to silently accept its necessary death, and drive the cruel cleansing metal of mockery to the hilt, until its black lifeblood has drained out. You hang the freak corpse from a lamppost as an example for the others. And then you remind yourself that you, like everyone else, is a depraved human, slave to his nature, who enjoys the suffering of losers and mind disease vectors.

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The Equalist Mantra

Anyone can have sex with anyone else!
Everyone belongs to everyone else!
Anyone is as good as anyone else!
Everyone is as capable as everyone else!
Anyone is as smart as anyone else!
Everyone is as cooperative as everyone else!
Anyone is as conscientious as anyone else!
Eveyrone is as beautiful as everyone else!
Anyone is as witty as anyone else!
Every group is as worthy as every other group!
Any group is as productive as any other group!
Every group is as lawful as every other group!
Any group is as athletic as any other group!
Every group is as civilized as any other group!
Any group is as welcoming as any other group!
Every man is the equal in every way of every other man!
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except for that one group of people, you know, those bigoted white men telling us otherwise.

Repeat until brainwashed.

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The Myth Of The Indiscriminate Alpha Male

Some readers took yesterday’s post as an opportunity to grind an axe about the supposed fact of alpha males rutting with undesirable females. Puzzlingly, a few readers credulously assumed the factual basis of the featured BDF’s (Bitter, Delusional Fattie) proof-free assertions that she has spread for the seraph rods of “Adonises” of “wealth and success” with “chiseled abs”, despite the BDF having a history as a hardcore delusionist spinning weird, often self-contradictory, fantasies on feminist websites.

Sorry, gullible readers, but this does not happen in real life, at least not nearly as often as fat, deluded shits trying to pump their sexual market value would like you to believe. Perhaps a reacquaintance with the rules of the sexual marketplace are in order:

1. Men prefer younger, hotter, thinner babes over older, uglier, fatter broads.

2. Men with options — aka alpha males — will exercise their freedom to date and fuck and even marry younger, hotter, thinner babes.

3. The sorts of men who date and fuck older, uglier, fatter women are men with fewer options, aka beta males and omega males.

I hope this clears things up. But if not, allow me to bring the abstract down to earth with a personal story.

I know a guy who possesses almost every single genetic and personality marker for high male mate value that a woman can dream of in her wildest fantasies — he’s charming, funny, top 2% looks, wealthy, mesomorphic, ambitious, has a certain amount of local fame, loves kids, owns a dog, stylish, seductive, and cocky — I mean, the dude is heaven sent for women, no homo. If he has a flaw it’s that he’s not very interested in romantic gestures, or putting much effort into pursuing women. It’s a flaw most women he dates are all too happy to dismiss as irrelevant. Mostly his “game” is to demonstrate social status by cracking jokes that get the whole group laughing, tease any hot girls nearby, pull back, and wait for them to throw themselves at him. He is very lazy about the follow-up and closing the deal, preferring instead to call it an early night, skip out on exchanging numbers or insta-dates, and walk home in anticipation of sex as the girl nips at his heels, eager to oblige. His laziness in regards the courtship of women means that he will often “slum it” with 7s and 8s rather than put in effort to get the 9s and 10s who would be ecstatic to assume the role as his natural prey. He is the perfect emblem of the “lazy cad”, iow.

In all the time I’ve known him (a long time), he has never, not once, not even a little bit, bedded a woman less than a 7. And when he has bedded a 7, he treated her with a summary cruelty that would be the envy of badboy loving feminists diddling their beans to female porn about sadistic billionaires. Worse still, when shameless BDFs like the chick showcased in yesterday’s post shower him with attention and practically beg for his cock, he stares at them coldly and arrogantly waves them away, as if to say “what in the hell makes you think you have a chance with me?” He does not disguise his contempt for the over-reaching, sexually aggressive BDF. Most alpha males don’t disguise their contempt, because to be approached with an almost open invitation for sex by a grotesquerie is a slap in the face, a denial of the alpha male’s high standing.

This is, I believe, an accurate reflection of the workings of the sexual market at large. True “Adonises” are not slumming it with gross pigs. They are ignoring them, totally, utterly, completely. That is, when they’re not ridiculing them for shits and giggles. Instead, the rare “Adonises” that BDFs claim to fuck are much more likely, upon closer inspection, to be revealed as simply chucklehead losers or, on very good nights, slightly higher value than bland, nondescript lesser betas. In all my forced acquaintances with these “Adonises” who were banging BDFs, the dude turned out to be much less than the BDF proudly advertised. And, along these lines, you have never seen a more wretched prototype of man than the omega orbiter who revolves around BDFs hoping for some of that fat slut love.

In reality, the following observations are the typical scenarios for low value women:

BDF 3s pumped and quickly dumped by male 4s or 5s, with a very lucky few once in a decade (or year, depending how depraved the slut allows herself to become) getting a shot at male 6 penis. And penis is all she will get.

BDF 3s getting short term flings with male 3s or 4s.

And BDF 3s getting long-term flings with male 2s and 3s, possibly male 4s, and most of the times with no men at all.

The rarity of the BDF 3 hooking up with a male 7 cannot be over-emphasized. It happens, but it happens so infrequently that it tells us nothing generalizable about the mating market. I have never seen nor heard of a male 8 or higher hooking up, even for a few seconds in a dark corner of a club, with a BDF 3, unless he was so blotto that he couldn’t clearly see the pig he was sticking.

Some readers will balk and offer Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hugh Grant as examples of alpha males who slummed it with ugly women. Yes, but the reason they are noted punchlines of jokes about indiscriminate horny men is because they are exceptions to the rule, and hence less forgettable than the hordes of alphas who only abide the love of hot babes. For every Arnie banging a Mexican maid on the DL, there are hundreds of Clooneys, DiCaprios, Pitts, Depps and Berlusconis who have a long, long history of banging only grade A ass. And let’s not forget that Arnie has been under the judgment-altering influence of steroids on and off his whole life, and if you have any experience hanging around meatheads on roids, you know that their powers of discrimination quickly yield to their wall-climbing horniness. I once knew a a guy on the juice who said his erections became so uncomfortably insistent that he would look at any hole, animate or inanimate, and wonder about ways to make it conducive to penetration. He was once caught masturbating into a gym towel in the locker room. No one paid him much mind, though, because apparently it is common practice among juicers to relieve themselves at the gym.

Other readers will claim that high testosterone makes men indiscriminate, and they will point to young men or black men as examples of “alphas” who will bone almost anything, thus vindicating the assertions of the BDF. Two problems with this: One, teenage youth — which is the age at which young men have the most free-flowing T and are presumably the most indiscriminate, is not in and of itself an attractive male trait to most women. Since women judge a man’s mate value on a suite of factors of which facial attractiveness is only one variable, it stands to reason that younger dudes out for a thrill would be lower value to most women. So their rankings, from the BDF perspective, would be lower than what she is claiming to score internet debate points. Two, most white women, which is what the BDF under discussion is, want to date and sleep with white men. They may claim their lovers are Adonii, but if their lovers are black men, the BDF is likely to feel that she is settling.

Black men are, not to put too fine a point on it, more willing than are men of other races to fornicate with the dregs of womanhood. I know there are brothers reading this site, and I know you know that I’m right. This point, along with accompanying scientific evidence, was made in the coda to yesterday’s post, so I suggest readers peruse it again so as to avoid these annoying redundancies. It is a horrible, viciously sadistic point I make, but it is a true point. If the black guys in the studio audience have a problem with it, they can start raising their standards and stop dumping in plumpers. I won’t be holding my breath.

Still more readers argue that every man goes through a dry spell, and it is during these periods that BDFs get their holes morosely plundered by alphas. Again, this claim falls under closer examination. First, alpha males have fewer and shorter dry spells than other men. They are rarely without the company of cute girls, so they rarely feel the need to dumpster dive. When they do experience the odd down time, they attempt to end it by aggressively pursuing… more cute girls! Second, beta males, who would be the natural constituent of BDFs looking to satisfy a hypergamous tingle for higher value men (remember, the omega male is the BDF’s SMV equal) are MORE likely to retreat to video games and porn than to recklessly dumpster dive with a fattie! Even betas have a sense of self-respect, arguably a greater sense than do alphas, for the beta is ever so closer to falling permanently into a BDF dating career track.

Finally, there are some readers who argue that alpha males dumpster dive a lot because “they just don’t give a fuck what people think”. Funny, this theory. Since when has a “don’t give a fuck” attitude been incompatible with adhering to standards for oneself? If anything, alpha male don’tgiveafuckness correlates highly with not giving a fuck about risking rejection from hot girls.

The bottom line is this: Alpha males, like all males, prefer thin babes. The difference is that alpha males have the power to fulfill their preferences, and they do. Betas and omegas are the men who must make sacrifices in quality, and who will occasionally dumpster dive because they feel more urgency to grab those infrequent opportunities when they arise.

And doesn’t that just get to the heart of it? Alphas make their opportunities. Betas mind their opportunities.

Nothing in this post should be taken wholly as a counterfactual to the above claims of BDF sexual opportunity. There is, in fact, truth to the notion that BDFs occasionally get their sloppy wet holes serviced by men somewhat higher in value than the BDF could be expected to realistically date in longer term arrangements. The issue I take with those readers who credulously (and curiously) buy BDF assertions of sex with Adonises is the lack of perspective they reveal about the relevance of sexual market hierarchy gradations.

Dumpster diving men above the omega male threshold do exist, but they are rarer than BDF fantasists assert. And they are not nearly as alpha as the typical BDF will eagerly claim in credulous company. Accidental real life meetings with the “sex toys” of BDFs usually confirm suspicions the BDF was lying to stroke her ego: The “lovers” are either black men who are gonna bolt in two days time, or they are white men who are way more beta, charmless, goofy, older, uglier and/or socially awkward than the BDF let on prior to public exposure of her “conquests”.

But even if the BDF gets her ego temporarily massaged by a parade of one night stands only one SMV point higher than herself, that is still enough pressure exerted on the mating market to skew the pairing up and pairing off outcomes. A one point SMV differential between herself and her regretful pumper can be enough to raise the expectations and entitlement of the BDF, and when a slew of these fly-by-nighters are accumulated, the BDF may actually come to believe her own bullshit. When that happens, omegas and lesser beta males who would be the rightful and natural heirs to the puffy sausage hands of BDFs come to find themselves passed over by these beasts who continue to trawl the singles scene hoping to capture the attention of an out-of-sight greater beta male.

The BDF who thinks herself a CSB (Certified Sexy Babe) is bad news for the nation’s betas, who are forced by circumstance of bloated BDF entitlement to put more effort into wooing women lower on the sexual market totem pole. Luckily, this is a self-correcting market skew, as the egotistic BDF who has not made a realistic reappraisal of her romantic worth is left, at last, lonely and unloved under the rubble of the wall that smashed down on top of her.

This is why game is so important for reasons beyond simply the promotion of techniques for snagging verifiably cute chicks; game is an invaluable market-correcting mechanism that redounds to the benefit of beta males who only wish to date IN THEIR OWN LEAGUE. Game opens pathways to hard 10s, and closes off dead ends to flabby 2s.

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Bitter, Delusional Fattie Thinks Sluttiness Is An Accomplishment

A bitter, delusional fattie (BDF) with disfiguring tattoos plastered all over her porcine hide has a blue spruce up her pancake batter butt about the normal people who are claiming 26 year old Lena Dunham’s character Hannah on her show Girls (said show cribbing liberally from this blog, and the proprietors know it) is not hot enough nor skinny enough to entice the sexual attentions of a 42 year old handsome doctor. (Speaking of Hannah and BDFs: Why the hell is it always the grossest women who are the biggest exhibitionists? Wait, we all know why. Because you have to give it away for free when no one is interested in buying it. This explains the phenomenon of aging, Hollywood ex-starlets dropping their moral compunctions against nudity and eagerly stripping down for the cameras. Thanks, ladies, for the day-late, dollop-short consolation prize.)

The normal people are, as per usual, right as rain. In real life, no doctor who isn’t a total dweeb will bother with a frumpy, dumpy, plumpy formless flesh entity like Hannah, even if she’s fifteen years younger. Men with high status and thus plenty of options in the dating market will choose pretty women with discernible hourglass figures. They will choose younger pretty girls over older attractive women, but if the choice is between an older (pre-wall) attractive woman with a nice body and a younger, uglier woman with a bratwurst impersonating a body, the red-blooded man will opt for the former.

The BDF under the Chateau laserscope for this go-round is truly an exemplar of her foul genus. To wit, here is a quote from the gelatinous beast:

Aside from being sexist and sizeist and just plain fucking rude, this idea that you have to have a thin, perfect body and the face of a model in order to be sexually attractive is just patently untrue. Sexual attraction is oozing and amorphous and refuses to live in boxes. Regular women, women who look like Lena Dunham, or me, get laid easily and often. Some men who look like Patrick Wilson are attracted exclusively to women 3 times Dunham’s size. Men who look like Patrick Wilson get rejected by women who look like Lena Dunham.

Couples are “mismatched” because these boundaries, these “leagues” are made up by society and easily crossed. Anybody can have sex with anybody else!

Friends, that is a hamster triple bank shotting on roids, ECA stacks, and crack cocaine. CH is in a Christmas mood, so let’s unwrap this rationalization rodent offal.

Aside from being sexist and sizeist

If the -ist fits…

and just plain fucking rude

BDF complains about rudeness while squeezing the word fucking in every sentence.

this idea that you have to have a thin, perfect body and the face of a model in order to be sexually attractive is just patently untrue.

Forget the science, forget clear-eyed observation, forget the reality that swims all around us… she said it, so it must be true. Rejoice, repulsive fatties! BDF says that men actually want to have sex with you even though the millions of decisions that men make every hour of every day, the preference for sex and love with thin women they attempt to satisfy, and the cruel mockery of fatties they indulge, demonstrate the exact opposite.

Sexual attraction is oozing and amorphous and refuses to live in boxes.

Well, it’s definitely oozing on her.

Regular women, women who look like Lena Dunham, or me, get laid easily and often.

Proof by assertion. But for the sake of further evisceration, let’s assume she’s not telling a bald-faced lie, and that she does manage to get a fuck dumped in her when the planets align. For the typical BDF, getting unceremoniously and absent-mindedly banged out by a desperate omega loser whose closest companion is normally a couch crease is not a trophy to place on the mantel. There are enough degenerates who will spelunk a convenient flabby hole when no other more attractive alternative is available that it is possible for a fat chick to sustain a belief in her marginal desirability, however threadbare that belief. Men are, on the whole, less discriminating about whom they will penetrate than are women about whom they will allow to penetrate. This is because for each egg that a woman produces, a man produces billions of sperm. Each sexual congress is therefore of far lesser biological, and thus emotional, importance to a man than it is to a woman, even to a BDF simulacrum of a woman. A woman who makes herself readily available to every wanton horndog who can’t afford adherence to standards is a woman who essentially announces to the world that her eggs are worthless mass market crap. Emphasis on mass.

Some men who look like Patrick Wilson are attracted exclusively to women 3 times Dunham’s size.

But most men aren’t. And in the zero-sum arena known as the sexual market, it’s the mate preferences of the majority that will most impact how much happiness any individual will extract from it.

Men who look like Patrick Wilson get rejected by women who look like Lena Dunham.

But most men don’t. It’s more often the case that alpha males are doing the prompt rejecting of women who resemble Lena Dunham. Remember, BDFs, male rejection usually takes the form of emotional rejection, and that’s the rejection that hurts you most.

Couples are “mismatched” because these boundaries, these “leagues” are made up by society and easily crossed.

Hugo Schwyzer agrees! Losers of a feather…

Anybody can have sex with anybody else!

Only if you count forcible rape.

There are some egregious BDFs out there, but this one takes the cake and inhales it. You can distill her crass self-motivational to two points, and neither one casts her in a flattering light:

1. She says she has had sex with “movie-star hot men with chiseled Adonis bodies”*, some of whom were “wealthy and successful”.

Try-hard. If you have to say it, it’s less true than true. If you have to say it so hyperbolically, it’s likely not true. If you have to say it so hyperbolically while looking like a propellor-scarred manatee, it most definitely is not true. But you keep telling us pigs can fly, BDF, and we’ll keep pointing and laughing at your ego-pricked obtuseness.

Here’s the deal whenever one of these asinine BDFs or her close kin rumbles into view to claim they have wonderful sex with high value men: they are almost always lying.

Nearly every instance when a low value woman claims she dates high value men, it will invariably reveal itself upon closer examination that the men she dates are supplicating, socially awkward, dull beta males, unreliable drunkards, or fly-by-night players who couldn’t give a shit about her beyond a late night booty call and who are clearly embarrassed to be seen with her in public. This is Rationalization Hamster 101, wherein the compulsion to assuage one’s BDF-riddled ego by declaiming the handsomeness, charm, high status and virility of sex partners overrides all consideration of truth value.

2. She implies that amassing a notch count of sex partners is an achievement for women like it would be for men.

Self-deluded fattie gonna self-delude. Spreading as far as two hamhocks can spread for a loser to stick his dick in and jab a few tepid spurts into sea cucumber labia is not an accomplishment. There will always be a contingent of wretched, loveless omega males roaming the wilderness like zombies to occasionally service the land whale through three seconds of love, for no other woman remotely attractive will have them, and sheep aren’t always as receptive as fat chicks. Now multiply the relative ease of convincing a loser to participate in greasy pig rutting by ten million to get an approximation of how effortless it is for the typical good-looking girl to entice a whole battalion of higher value men to line up for a free blast inside her exquisite heart-shaped pussy, and you’ll have an idea of just how inconsequential is sex itself as a measure of a woman’s romantic worth.

The crux of the cunt is this: a woman’s sexual worth is measured by the ease with which she can convince a worthwhile man to commit to her and stick around for the long haul. It is not measured by the accessibility of her sperm receptacle. You’ll note that the BDF under discussion refers in the past tense to these “Adonises” whose intimate company she allegedly enjoyed over the years. Presumably, they all fled before the last jizz stream swirled down her belly button drain. Who could’ve guessed a noxious, fat, ugly, hallucinatory, tatted freak would have trouble getting any of them to fall in love with her? Rhetorical.

Some of you kinder, gentler, naive readers ask, “Why flay this poor fattie’s soul? What has she done that’s so bad? She’s just masticating on the internet, giving girls a self-esteem boost.”

If she were gloomily masticating in her bedroom, alone and out of earshot of impressionable darlings, she would escape the torture. But she shouts her rampant idiocy from the rooftops, sliming the minds of thousands (millions?) of young women who teeter at the precipice between unhappy fatness and happy slimness. Thankfully, most thin babes know in their lovely bones that getting fat will hurt their chances at finding love, so a whole goon platoon of bellowing fatties would do nothing to dissuade them from following the right and true path in life. But some girls are emotional basket cases, and in their weakened conditions are susceptible to infectious mind disease.

If this BDF propagandist can potentially convince even one slim girl that she would suffer no romantic consequences were she to bloat up and ruin her desirability, ruin the scenery, and ruin the attitudes of hotter girls who relax self-constraints on their bitchiness when their competition is reduced, then the BDF is a legitimate enemy of the natural state. She has earned her designation as a prime target. The incalculable cruelty of the breaking wheel wrenching screams of agony from her blubbery carcass will serve as an example for the others thinking that it’s a wise life decision to dedicate oneself to spreading lies and destroying the looks of pretty girls.

*PS: The cynics will interpret this BDF’s outrageous claim — “movie-star hot men with chiseled Adonis bodies” — as a fat white girl euphemism for black guys. They are onto something. You brothers won’t like to hear this, but too many of you are willing to drop your standards, however temporarily or conveniently, and plow white fatties with finger-wagging ‘tude to spare. While proof is lacking, it’s a strong possibility that this particular BDF is another data point in favor of the African Megafauna Size, Shape, Color and Texture Theory of Conditionally Flexible Black Male Mating Preference.

CH is on record stating that black men, when they are free to choose high value women, will, like men of other races, generally choose thin, pretty women, especially if the choice is for a woman who will be a long-term relationship lover. C.f., Will Smith. And yet, there is also plenty of evidence, observational and analytical, confirming the stereotype that black men, when they date or screw around interracially, slum it with the refuse of white womanhood.

Two things ought to be said about this: One, most white girls prefer sex and relationships with white guys, if online dating statistics are to be believed. So a fat white chick transcending earthly bonds on wings of passion with a vibrant black dude is likely feeling a powerful discomfort on a subconscious level that she is settling. Two, it’s a good bet none of these black lovers are staying around to cuddle and raise a nuclear family with their BDF gory holes.

It’s fair to surmise, then, that a fat white chick who brags about snagging indiscriminate black guys with chiseled abs is not feeling the winner vibe those abs are supposed to make her feel. In the morning, she is left confused about what the fuck is happening to her life. This is what is happening to the BDF: You are a loser, you will continue to be a loser, and you will die a loser. And no amount of pain-addled transparently ego-massaging insistence to the contrary on a feminist website will change that. Only pushing away from the table will help.

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How To Tell Women What They Want To Hear

Nick Savoy is a pick-up coach who runs Love Systems. He’s been in the business of selling blueprints for getting laid a long time. Although he’s Canadian, I have nothing against the guy. Word is he’s an excellent artiste of the pick-up persuasion. However, I can’t help but call out — and compliment! — glorious bullshit when I see it, and parts of this latest interview with him qualify.

Savoy made an appearance on the Today show recently to hawk his new “””game””” book for women, called It’s Your Move: How to Play the Game and Win the Man You Want. Now when I hear the words “girl game” my BS detector goes off. The fundamental premise of the sexual market is that women trade their youthnbeauty for men’s power, prestige, charm, dominance and resources (among other desirable male traits). The best “girl game” in the world, then, is simply this:

Be young and hot, ladies.

Any advice geared for women beyond that basic prerequisite is sure to be warm, steaming feelgood pablum. Effective at the distant margins, AT BEST. And then, effective only on beta males who are the kinds of men apt to fall for manipulative girl game. The alpha males for whom chicks devise “girl game” to capture in heady commitment are just the sorts of men who are adept at sidestepping women’s manipulations.

(This is very unlike game for men, which is the inverse of game for girls, because it tends to be the hottest, highest value girls who swoon the swooniest for seductive men with pick-up skills.)

But of course that message won’t sell. And since women are the majority of book buyers, especially of books which tickle their solipsistic fancies rather than give them actual useful advice to measurably improve their lives, it pays a man like Savoy to craft a prettified message for the ladies that will make them happy and hopeful and validated and reaching for their credit cards. So Savoy is no dummy. In fact, I predict he will make more $cashmoney$ from this one “girl game” book than he has made from all his tougher-edged game books aimed at men.

To understand what I’m getting at, watch this video of his interview. (Sadly, SFW.) Savoy has to speak in womanese to these two old, stretchy faced broads or they’d ride him out on a rail. (Or, more likely, their white knights and femlickers would ride him out on a rail.) The womanese dialect Savoy employs is thickly accented, so I’ve included where necessary a helpful womanese-to-male English translation below.

Ok, let me get this out of the way first so the comments don’t get clogged with funny yet drearily repetitive remarks: Yes, Savoy sounds gay. He’s not, but he sure sounds it. If you’re wondering how a man whose voice is a nasally kazoo that projects Kegel-strengthened arias into the heads of the assembled can seduce so many lovelies, keep in mind that Science! has discovered bisexual men — who are a subclass of the class of effeminate men — have more female partners on average than do exclusively heterosexual men. My take: Those men in touch with women’s deepest truest desires, like apparently Savoy is, are best able to coax them into the sack.

Also, Savoy is kind of funny. I’d be surprised if the gentle humor that comes across in this interview wasn’t also a part of his pick-up success.

I’ll skip the first minute which is mostly a prelude to the juicy stuff.

1:10 — “Well, half the game’s won or lost before you even leave the house.”

Male English translation: “If you’re cute inside your house, then you’ll be cute outside your house.”

This statement is half sincere, and that’s all right. If he had said “9/10ths of the game’s won or lost before you even leave the house”, he’d be eight-balling 100% stone cold truth. But we’ll take half and call it a win.

1:16 — “How you dress is important, too. But also, I mean, you want to go out with like a couple of girl friends, not a massive group, because that’s intimidating for most guys.”

This is good, if obvious, advice. Men, of course, prefer to approach women who are alone or with one friend. But Savoy either doesn’t understand *why* women go out in large hen groups, or he understands but is deliberately avoiding the implications in order to spoon feed pleasant sounding advice to women who will in reality never take it up. Single women aren’t making an error of judgment when they choose to go out in big groups of clucking hens and a few beta orbiters. In fact they are making a wise choice; big groups insulate them from potentially dangerous men, and big groups allow them to judge a man’s facility to navigate pressure-filled social dynamics.

So telling girls to go out alone is like telling them to put out as quickly as possible: it ain’t gonna happen as long as the female biomachinery isn’t radically altered. You know what types of women go out alone or with one friend? Cougars. When you have low sexual market value, you have to make it as easy as possible for the desperate beta males who are your bread and butter.

1:33 — “…and wear something or bring something interesting that a guy can comment on.”

Male English translation: “Don’t dress like a potato sack.”

This is good advice as far as it goes, but again, it suffers from the tacit delusion that ugly girls can attract men by wearing an eye-catching ensemble or a peculiar accoutrement. The “unique purse” that Savoy recommends a woman carry as a lure to capture a man’s attention and give him something to talk about is advice best suited for women who are *already* attracting men with their looks, and who want to make it easy for those men to strike up convos. Like I said, decent advice, but not really the sort of advice that is going to do the women most in need of a “How to find a man” book any help.

2:44 — “It’s so important to go to your strengths. I’m with guys as they’re going out to bars or clubs or coffee shops, and they’re deciding who to approach and who they’re interested in, and I see so often that guys would much rather approach the woman who’s confident in her own skin, who looks comfortable with herself, and who maybe is telling a story about herself with how she’s dressed, than the 25th most attractive woman in the room who’s competing on that ground.”

Male English translation: “If you’re an unattractive girl, dress like a scenester slut. Men will figure you’re DTF and will approach you over the girl who is unattractive and prudish.”

This is great advice for the girl who wants to get banged out no strings attached, but not so great advice for the girl who wants a relationship with an alpha male. Since most girls want the latter, this advice is as likely to get them further from their goals as it is to help them fulfill their goals.

By the way, the very fact that Savoy can speak so fluently in womanese is testament to his skills as a womanizer. Perhaps he won’t like that I’ve labeled his girl game advice as bullshit, but in fact I am paying him a high compliment. You’ve got to be smart and seductive to spin a whole book out of “Be cute and young, and don’t be ugly or get old”.

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We’re Gonna Need A Bigger Hamster

Sometimes, in moments of deep reflection, I wonder… just what delusional depths can the typical American woman plumb? I thought I’ve seen it all… attack lawyers bitching off the shoulder of sensitive niceguys… I watched cockblocks glower in the bar near the target babe. All those delusions will be spun in time, like hamsters on wheels. Time to self-deceive.

But now I see there is more out there. A bigger, better, faster hamster. A rodent so enormous on a wheel spinning so violently it creates its own black hole of irrationality, sucking in logic, reason and common sense to an event horizon doom.

Behold: The Hamster of Hamsters. The Mother of All Rodents. The MOAR you know… the more you despair that America is in the grips of a virulent, and wholly undeserved, narcissism determined to sink the nation ship with the utmost alacrity.

The beast hungers:

In that sense, vanity is yet another stick with which people are beaten — because women are told, constantly and without any real deviation from the message, that they have to look a certain way to be worthwhile, to be of value. To be REAL, in some sense.

This is, of course, utter bullshit. Because any woman who identifies as a woman is a real woman. There’s a lot of different ways that can look and they are all valid.

“Because any woman who identifies as a woman is a real woman.” Is this the ur-tautology? Or just the usual gibberish from the usual losers unable to cope with the revelations from clear thinking?

Leaving aside for the moment any presumption this particular breed of hamster vessel knows what she means by the word “valid”, it is absolute falsehood that all women have value no matter what they look like. A morbidly obese land whale has almost zero romantic value to nearly all men. A woman who is so disgustingly fat she ceases to retain even the merest shimmer of womanly shape is a female of very low physical value.

Her post seems melancholy to me in some ways, caught and struggling in the web of the social expectations that are thrust upon women.

Expectations exist because we are biological machines with biologically-based desires that react to specific body types. When those body types deviate from the desirous norm, we recoil as if we have seen a monstrous creature of the nightmare world.

if you are fat and you accept your body as it is, you are often bombarded with “Your fat!” (they never get the “you’re” right)  [ed: female humor] in email and comments and sometimes in person, as though you need the reminder because you’ve risen above your station.

If you accept your fatness, then you wouldn’t be bothered by people calling you fat. Is Donald Trump bothered when people say to him “You’re rich!”?

One of the best things I ever did for myself was to consciously make an effort not to judge people’s bodies.

Here comes the patented feminist self-contradiction within two sentences…

I do not care if your hipbones stick out.

But you noticed, didn’t you, Judgy McJudgemytwoextrabeefpattiesonasesameseedbunfueledwideloadass? The “hipbones stick out” descriptive excess is classic fatgirl speak for healthy weight, slender women, hidden under an obfuscating layer of plausible deniability that she “does not care” about those skinny girls and their jutting hipbones. Fat shits just love their propaganda that the world is about to be overrun with thin women on the verge of mortal anorexia.

Your body is awesome.

Yes it is.

I do not care how many chins you are packing.

Men do. And that’s what matters.

Your body is awesome.

No it’s not.

So is mine.

I’ll be the judge of that.

Awesome, indeed. Awesomely rotund.

“So is mine.”

It’s like listening to a small child argue. The mind on display here is underdeveloped like a child’s, but at least children have the excuse that their brains are still a work in progress. This is an adult woman talking like this. Acting out like a petulant brat that reality is what she says it is, and so there!

“There’s no place like my body. There’s no place like my body. There’s no place like my body. Yay, I’m happy with myself again!”

If you wish for it hard enough… well, you’re still a fat crap.

My vanity — when I am not compromised by my own intrinsic self-doubt (two days before my period, like CLOCKWORK) — is of the traditional form. My vanity is in thinking that I am absolutely worth being looked at, absolutely worth being seen. Absolutely worth thinking of myself as talented.

Correction: You’re not worth being looked at, you’re not worth being seen, and goshdarnit, you’re absolutely not worth thinking of yourself as an alternative and equally worthy female form. And this fact will not change no matter how much you lie to yourself otherwise. It will never change until you change the fact itself, by losing weight and slimming down to a reasonable facsimile of a sexy woman. In your case, the fact itself looks to weigh about 100 unnecessary pounds.

Vanity is distasteful in people who at least can claim some justification for feeling vain; we may not like it but we understand. In contrast, vanity is farcical delusion in people who don’t possess a scintilla of real world evidence to justify their bloated self-regard. The vanity untethered from reality is a joke; it’s Generation Lookatme! on uppers, their heaving bulk held aloft by a helium-filled entitlement complex. The best thing for society would be to have these BubbleBoars disabused of their fanciful self-delusions. Of course, it might take more than a few stabs with the soulkilling shiv until they get the message. There’s a lot of ego blubber to cut through.

I wouldn’t call that inflated. I wouldn’t call that undue. I’d call that actually having a pretty good grasp on being confident that I am, in fact, a worthwhile human being.

A person’s actual worth is inversely proportional to the efforts she takes to convince herself of her worth.

Other than the death fatness and the blue hair, I’m actually pretty conventional in my appearance, according to the social beauty imperative: I am white, I have a clear complexion (mostly), I have thick curly hair on my head but little body hair. I have an hourglassy shape.

You’d have to be sober-ish to think she’s hourglassy. Hey, I thought all body types are worthwhile? She shouldn’t preen about her clear complexion and hourglassy shape. Is there something wrong with hirsute women?

I am still going to advocate for everyone being at least a little vain though. Because “pretty” should not be the sole criterion for “worth being seen.” Because “pretty” is actually kind of a bullshit narrow construct.

The hamster has gone suborbital.

In fact, when people who do not fit into the effing oppressive beauty standard that is going on in America are vain as hell, I love it.

“I am a beautiful, healthy woman. Fuck you, dad!”

I think it’s powerful and subversive and political and awesome.

No, it’s just retarded and transparent and silly and self-defeating.

Because fuck those folks who think you don’t deserve to be seen.

The problem is that there’s too much of you to see.

It’s worth clarifying as well — not only is no one required to participate in beauty culture,

No one is required to participate in breathing oxygen, either, but there are consequences if you choose non-participation.

you are still awesome and worth being seen [for the degenerate freak show you are] if you reject beauty culture entirely.

ftfy.

If vanity is about excessive pride in our appearance, well, let’s just say I’ll be damned before I look in a mirror and hate what I see just to avoid being vain.

Interesting reasoning. I didn’t know the opposite of vanity was self-hatred.

My only caveat regarding the awesomeness of vanity? Your intense and concentrated awesomeness does not mean other people are not also awesome.

I bet she doesn’t think Todd Akin is awesome.

Jane and the xoEditors actually have a whole new project in the works that will celebrate all things VAIN. It’s pretty hella exciting.

I used to think that setting these insipid behemoths straight would require nothing more than ignoring them. The sexual market is cruelly indifferent to one’s constructed vanity, and fat shits would find in short order how unloved they were by men with options. But now, I dunno… cold indifference doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. Pointing and ridiculing is the next step in the campaign against raging American female egotism, and if that doesn’t work, well, there’s always diabetes, chopped feet, and early death.

Why do I put crazed egomaniacs like this woman on the breaking wheel? What’s the point of being so mean to someone who is probably nice to puppies when she isn’t eating them? I do it to set an example for the others. To push back against evil ideologies that infect innocent minds. And make no mistake, this woman’s message is evil. If other women who had not yet ruined their bodies by blowing up to her repulsive dimensions took her words to heart, they might feel entitled to let themselves go, figuring that their body is beautiful no matter what it looks like, and shame on you for saying differently.

And then the world would be a little bit sadder, a lotta bit uglier, and a hella lot fatter. And that would be decidedly un-awesome.

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