Sarah Palin Inspires Feminist Hate

I predicted that Sarah Palin’s most fevered foes would be the modern single urban childless feminist:

But Sarah Palin’s worst enemy is not the mincing liberal betaboy, oh no. It’s the childless, career-tracked, urban slut machine, government-as-daddy-and-husband-substitute, spinsterette. Palin shits grizzly-sized dung all over that lifestyle with her outdoorsiness, large brood, and prole tastes. The thing about her they really can’t swallow are her FIVE kids. There’s no better way to remind a hip clubgoing single chick in the city who loves to travel and sip pinot noir of her impending infertility and genetic obsolescence than with the image of a woman who’s chosen not to ignore her biological imperative in favor of playing the field indefinitely.

Palin makes blue state SWPLs nervous because she is the chill up their spines that they are being outbred into insignificance.

Commenter Sebastian Flyte forwarded a NY Sun article to me confirming my prediction:

“All of my women friends [editor’s note: Samantha, Carrie, Miranda, and the fat friend Rosie O’Donnell], a week ago Monday, were on the verge of throwing themselves out windows,” an author and political activist, Nancy Kricorian of Manhattan, said yesterday. “People were flipping out. … Every woman I know was in high hysteria over this. Everyone was just beside themselves with terror that this woman could be our president — our potential next president.”

Ms. Kricorian allowed that she was among those driven to distraction, upon occasion, by Mrs. Palin’s nomination. “My Facebook status last Monday was, ‘Nancy is freaking out about Sarah Palin yet again,'” the writer said.

Facebook! Fuck her fiercely with a ferret. Here’s a Facebook status update for these freaked out feminists: “My life is a joke. A triviality. A nothing. A barren womb of emptiness. Politics is my religion substitute and gives me a belief to cling to when my life is a meaningless, mindless void of handbag shopping and mimosas.”

There. Much better.

“What I feel for her privately could be described as violent, nay, murderous, rage,” an associate editor at Jezebel, Jessica Grose, wrote just after the Republican convention wrapped up. “When Palin spoke on Wednesday night, my head almost exploded from the incandescent anger boiling in my skull.”

“I am shocked by the depths of my hatred for this woman,” another commenter, CJWeimar, wrote.

This is an endless font of humor. Recall what Devlin said about women who delay childbirth:

“Motherhood has always been the best remedy for female narcissism.”

When you have your own children to raise, the sight of a mother on stage at a political convention won’t fry your neural network with murderous impulses. This kind of acute self-absorption naturally places great emphasis on fighting those whose lifestyle choices mock your own.

“It is impossible for me not to read about her in the newspaper in the subway every morning on my way to work and not come into the office angry and wanting to kick things,” a commenter using the name ChampagneofBeers wrote. “My boxing class definitely helps.”

Oh christ, the stereotypical absurdity never ends. I can picture this broad in the latest trendy gymwear, huge oversized boxing gloves, grunting ridiculously while swinging like a tankgrrl at a punching bag and cursing red state women who rub her face in her failure with their large broods. I bet the next time she storms out of class fired up with righteous anger and belief in her jujitsu boxing skills, she makes the mistake of giving some homeless bum lip and winds up knocked out when he takes a swing at her.

Even some prominent figures admitted to being overcome by anti-Palin feelings. “I am having Sarah Palin nightmares,” an acclaimed playwright and writer, Eve Ensler, wrote on the Huffington Post.

Eve Ensler: divorced, ugly, 0 biological children.
She’ll need to call her next play “The Nobody Wants My Vagina Monologues”.

“I think a lot of women felt insulted by the idea you could just take any woman,” a longtime editor of women’s magazines, Bonnie Fuller, told The New York Sun. “A lot of women feel it was a very cynical decision. … What got some women’s backs up was the idea she didn’t earn her stripes. It’s been so hard for so many women to get ahead both in business and in the political worlds and she just seemingly slips in.”

Oh, Palin earned her stripes. The problem is that she didn’t earn the *right* stripes as dictated by the Loony Kommissars of the Crusty Cunt Revolution. Send her to the reeducation camps!

Ms. Fuller also said she and other women were troubled by Mrs. Palin’s decision to have her daughter, Bristol, 17, on stage at the Republican convention, despite news reports about her pregnancy.

Cute, young, pregnant teenagers drive these ugly shrikes right over the edge. How dare they not delay childbirth and devote a decade of their most fertile years to climbing the corporate ladder alongside the boys?

Ms. Grose posited that some of the anger was because Mrs. Palin, a former beauty pageant winner, resembled a high school homecoming queen. “She has always embodied that perfectly pleasing female archetype, playing by the boys’ game with her big guns and moose murdering, and that she keeps being rewarded for it,” Ms. Grose wrote.

Jealous much? High school never ends. Adults just dress up their status jockeying with social niceties.

“Their entire image of themselves is based on the fact that they are paving the way for women. What do they see? Women getting ahead, women being empowered who don’t agree with them,” Dr. Santy said.

Fear and ego are being disinterred for public scrutiny. The id monster emerges from the depths of its subconscious lair. And what do they fear most of all?

Judgment.

Palin’s attractivness, femininity, fertility, and “wrong” politics are the perfect storm to batter the psyches of the SWPL modern feminist. I have loved every minute of this national Rorschach test. It has paid truth to everything I’ve written about the blue state vaginacentric culture in which I swim and exploit for my own uses and pleasures. I hope it never ends.

To fathers everywhere I say: Continue sending your daughters to the big city in droves. I, and those like me, will be waiting.

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Marry Shag Kill

Also from yesterday’s post, commenter Sebastian Flyte highlighted women’s natural inborn revulsion for beta males with the example of the fun bar game Marry Shag Kill:

Another aspect I’m increasingly seeing – WOMEN ARE PITILESS ABOUT BETAS. 

Most gamers who run the routine “murder, marry, shag” quickly realise this.  For those who don’t, you and the girl point at various people around the bar and state whether you would murder them, marry them, or shag them. 

Sometimes I point at wallflowers and guys with no game. I normally just feel bad for them, there-but-for-the-grace-of-god and so forth, me a year ago, he just needs to learn… but women_are_brutal.  Murder of course, but they embellish it further with unflattering observations on their penis size, acne, relationship history, masturbation habits… the vitriolic hate they have for these guys, it’s scary.  If a couple of alphas walked in and started ripping on the betas, women would join in.

I have noticed the same thing with women when I play Marry Fuck Kill with them. After an initial hesitancy, they get comfortable playing and suddenly the claws and fangs are out, revealing in high definition surround-sound glory their barely submerged joyous hate for the hapless beta male.

The nicer ones might try to think of alternate ways to dispose of the losers.

“Uuumm… yeah I guess I would kill him [pointing at rumpled shirt herb]. Do I really have to kill him? Ew, yuck, could we just have him shot into space or something? Or moved to China?”

If the guy is really emanating the stench of loserness, her killing instinct sharpens:

“Yeah, kill him. Oh god, yes, just kill him.”

You have to understand why women have this curdled reaction to betas deep in their bones. If a man spills his seed in the wrong woman, no biggie. He can still bang other women and fulfill his genetic programming. If a woman gets her eggs polluted by the feeble seed of a beta, she’s stuck for nine months, and probably longer.

This is why Marry Fuck Kill is an excellent litmus test. I now use the game to screen for women with good character. If she is *really* uncomfortable killing off men she doesn’t want to fuck or marry, and refuses to pull the trigger, I know she’ll be more likely to want to please me and less likely to cheat. I put her in the “long term prospect” mental bin. If she chooses to marry what I consider marriage-worthy men (and I pick sample targets for her with my screening process in mind) I give her an extra point. If she chooses to fuck the dude wearing the skull and bones bandana with tribal tattoos on his arms and a perpetual sneer, I subtract points from her and put her into the “short fling” mental bin.

Marry Fuck Kill does not work the same for men. When the girl plays the game with me, and I haven’t yet fucked her, I have to be careful how I answer.

“Her? [looking at the fat girl she picked] Hmm, I dunno… If she was good to animals I miiiiiight marry her. I guess I have to kill someone here, eh? Maybe that chick over there. [pointing at the hottest chick in the bar] She looks high maintenance.”

If I simply told the truth and chose all the hot girls for fucking and marrying and killed all the ugly and fat chicks, occasionally with unbridled glee, she would become self-conscious and never agree to be videotaped during sex.

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This Will Count Towards Your Final Score

Who would you rather be friends with? An honest asshole or an amiable hypocrite?

young woman substitutes

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The Sixteen Commandments Of Poon

I. Never say ‘I Love You’ first

Women want to feel like they have to overcome obstacles to win a man’s heart. They crave the challenge of capturing the interest of a man who has other women competing for his attention, and eventually prevailing over his grudging reluctance to award his committed exclusivity. The man who gives his emotional world away too easily robs women of the satisfaction of earning his love. Though you may be in love with her, don’t say it before she has said it. Show compassionate restraint for her need to struggle toward yin fulfillment. Inspire her to take the leap for you, and she’ll return the favor a thousandfold.

II. Make her jealous

Flirt with other women in front of her. Do not dissuade other women from flirting with you. Women will never admit this but jealousy excites them. The thought of you turning on another woman will arouse her sexually. No girl wants a man that no other woman wants. The partner who harnesses the gale storm of jealousy controls the direction of the relationship.

III. You shall make your mission, not your woman, your priority

Forget all those romantic cliches of the leading man proclaiming his undying love for the woman who completes him. Despite whatever protestations to the contrary, women do not want to be “The One” or the center of a man’s existence. They in fact want to subordinate themselves to a worthy man’s life purpose, to help him achieve that purpose with their feminine support, and to follow the path he lays out. You must respect a woman’s integrity and not lie to her that she is “your everything”. She is not your everything, and if she is, she will soon not be anymore.

IV. Don’t play by her rules

If you allow a woman to make the rules she will resent you with a seething contempt even a rapist cannot inspire. The strongest woman and the most strident feminist wants to be led by, and to submit to, a more powerful man. Polarity is the core of a healthy loving relationship. She does not want the prerogative to walk all over you with her capricious demands and mercurial moods. Her emotions are a hurricane, her soul a saboteur. Think of yourself as a bulwark against her tempest. When she grasps for a pillar to steady herself against the whipping winds or yearns for an authority figure to foil her worst instincts, it is you who has to be there… strong, solid, unshakeable and immovable.

V. Adhere to the golden ratio

Give your woman 2/3 of everything she gives you. For every three calls or texts, give her two back. Three declarations of love earn two in return. Three gifts; two nights out. Give her two displays of affection and stop until she has answered with three more. When she speaks, you reply with fewer words. When she emotes, you emote less. The idea behind the golden ratio is twofold — it establishes your greater value by making her chase you, and it demonstrates that you have the self-restraint to avoid getting swept up in her personal dramas. Refraining from reciprocating everything she does for you in equal measure instills in her the proper attitude of belief in your higher status. In her deepest loins it is what she truly wants.

VI. Keep her guessing

True to their inscrutable natures, women ask questions they don’t really want direct answers to. Woe be the man who plays it straight — his fate is the suffering of the beta. Evade, tease, obfuscate. She thrives when she has to imagine what you’re thinking about her, and withers when she knows exactly how you feel. A woman may want financial and family security, but she does not want passion security. In the same manner, when she has displeased you, punish swiftly, but when she has done you right, reward slowly. Reward her good behavior intermittently and unpredictably and she will never tire of working hard to please you.

VII. Always keep two in the kitty

Never allow yourself to be a “kept man”. A man with options is a man without need. It builds confidence and encourages boldness with women if there is another woman, a safety net, to catch you in case you slip and risk a breakup, divorce, or a lost prospect, leading to loneliness and a grinding dry spell. A woman knows once she has slept with a man she has abdicated a measure of her power; when she has fallen in love with him she has surrendered nearly all of it. But love is ephemeral and with time she may rediscover her power and threaten to leave you. It is her final trump card. Withdrawing all her love and all her body in an instant will rend your soul if you are faced with contemplating the empty abyss alone. Knowing there is another you can turn to for affection will fortify your will and satisfy your manhood.

VIII. Say you’re sorry only when absolutely necessary

Do not say you’re sorry for every wrong thing you do. It is a posture of submission that no man should reflexively adopt, no matter how alpha he is. Apologizing increases the demand for more apologies. She will come to expect your contrition, like a cat expects its meal at a set time each day. And then your value will lower in her eyes. Instead, if you have done something wrong, you should acknowledge your guilt in a glancing way without resorting to the actual words “I’m sorry.” Pull the Bill Clinton maneuver and say “Mistakes were made” or tell her you “feel bad” about what you did. You are granted two freebie “I’m sorry”s for the life of your relationship; use them wisely.

IX. Connect with her emotions

Set yourself apart from other men and connect with a woman’s emotional landscape. Her mind is an alien world that requires deft navigation to reach your rendevous. Frolic in the surf of emotions rather than the arid desert of logic. Be playful. Employ all your senses. Describe in lush detail scenarios to set her heart afire. Give your feelings freedom to roam. ROAM. Yes, that is a good word. You’re not on a linear path with her. You are ROAMING all over, taking her on an adventure. In this world, there is no need to finish thoughts or draw conclusions. There is only need to EXPERIENCE. You’re grabbing her hand and running with her down an infinite, labyrinthine alleyway with no end, laughing and letting your fingers glide on the cobblestone walls along the way.

X. Ignore her beauty

The man who trains his mind to subdue the reward centers of his brain when reflecting upon a beautiful female face will magically transform his interactions with women. His apprehension and self-consciousness will melt away, paving the path for more honest and self-possessed interactions with the objects of his desire. This is one reason why the greatest lotharios drown in more love than they can handle — through positive experiences with so many beautiful women they lose their awe of beauty and, in turn, their powerlessness under its spell. It will help you acquire the right frame of mind to stop using the words hot, cute, gorgeous, or beautiful to describe girls who turn you on. Instead, say to yourself “she’s interesting” or “she might be worth getting to know”. Never compliment a girl on her looks, especially not a girl you aren’t fucking. Turn off that part of your brain that wants to put them on pedestals. Further advanced training to reach this state of unawed Zen transcendence is to sleep with many MANY attractive women (try to avoid sleeping with a lot of ugly women if you don’t want to regress). Soon, a Jedi lover you will be.

XI.  Be irrationally self-confident

No matter what your station in life, stride through the world without apology or excuse. It does not matter if objectively you are not the best man a woman can get; what matters is that you think and act like you are. Women have a dog’s instinct for uncovering weakness in men; don’t make it easy for them. Self-confidence, warranted or not, triggers submissive emotional responses in women. Irrational self-confidence will get you more pussy than rational defeatism.

XII.  Maximize your strengths, minimize your weaknesses

In the betterment of ourselves as men we attract women into our orbit. To accomplish this gravitational pull as painlessly and efficiently as possible, you must identify your natural talents and shortcomings and parcel your efforts accordingly. If you are a gifted jokester, don’t waste time and energy trying to raise your status in philosophical debate. If you write well but dance poorly, don’t kill yourself trying to expand your manly influence on the dancefloor. Your goal should be to attract women effortlessly, so play to your strengths no matter what they are; there is a groupie for every male endeavor. Except World of Warcraft.

XIII. Err on the side of too much boldness, rather than too little

Touching a woman inappropriately on the first date will get you further with her than not touching her at all. Don’t let a woman’s faux indignation at your boldness sway you; they secretly love it when a man aggressively pursues what he wants and makes his sexual intentions known. You don’t have to be an asshole, but if you have no choice, being an inconsiderate asshole beats being a polite beta, every time.

XIV. Fuck her good

Fuck her like it’s your last fuck. And hers. Fuck her so good, so hard, so wantonly, so profligately that she is left a quivering, sparking mass of shaking flesh and sex fluids. Drain her of everything, then drain her some more. Kiss her all over, make love to her all night, and hold her close in the morning. Own her body, own her gratitude, own her love. If you don’t know how, learn to give her squirting orgasms.

XV. Maintain your state control

You are an oak tree. You will not be manipulated by crying, yelling, lying, head games, sexual withdrawal, jealousy ploys, pity plays, shit tests, hot/cold/hot/cold, disappearing acts, or guilt trips. She will rain and thunder all around you and you will shelter her until her storm passes. She will not drag you into her chaos or uproot you. When you have mastery over yourself, you will have mastery over her.

XVI.  Never be afraid to lose her

You must not fear. Fear is the love-killer. Fear is the ego-triumph that brings abject loneliness. You will face your fear. You will permit it to pass over and through you. And when your ego-fear is gone you will turn and face your lover, and only your heart will remain. You will walk away from her when she has violated your integrity, and you will let her walk when her heart is closed to you. She who can destroy you, controls you. Don’t give her that power over yourself. Love yourself before you love her.

***

The closer you follow the letter of these commandments, the easier you will find and keep real, true unconditional love and happiness in your life.

Best.

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Girls Who Lie

I was listening to a morning talk show and the subject was about local area bars cheating customers by using false pint glasses with thicker bottoms that only hold 14 ounces of beer, and leaving too much head on top. Since this is a major breach of bar patron trust many irate callers offered opinions on what to do, which basically boiled down to stiffing the bartenders on tips, informing the manager of your displeasure, or choosing a new bar. Stiffing a bartender is not usually a good idea since it’s the bar manager who sets policy, and most bartenders are on your side.

When you catch a girl you are dating in a lie that matters you are presented with a few alternative ways to respond. Although it’s fun to think of a girl as “tapping a keg”, she isn’t a bar and doesn’t have a manager you could complain to, so that option is not available. You don’t want to call her out on her lie because that will accomplish nothing; if she’s comfortable lying in the first place calling her out isn’t going to reform her character. You’re not the first man she lied to, and you won’t be the last.

In my experience, you have two acceptable courses of action:

• Ignore the lie, but know who you’re dealing with.

Knowledge is the key to managing a woman. If you catch her in a serious lie you will feel like she isn’t treating you with the respect you deserve and you will want to dump all over her, but before you do remember that you’ve gained some very crucial leverage over her — you know her character. Now you can handle her appropriately. Have some fun, enjoy her company (read: sex), but move her to your second or third tier of women. You owe her nothing. Maintaining a code of silence on your discovery of her lie is a form of power that will allow you to hold her at arm’s length and remove all her tools of manipulation.

Identifying a bad seed is important so you don’t waste too much time and energy trying to find her nonexistent inner beauty.

• Leave her.

Character is destiny. A woman who lies about serious shit will not make a good long term girlfriend, wife or mother for anyone, so if you are a man looking for that you may want to streamline your dating efficiency and drop her like you would drop a bar serving pints in 14 ounce glasses. But don’t tell her exactly why you are leaving. As I wrote above:

Maxim #13: Calling a girl out on her lie accomplishes nothing.

Instead, cut through the ego bullshit and tell her the *deeper* truth — she is free to do whatever she wants with her life but you expect loyalty from the women you date. Say no more. Just stop calling.

***

Do men or women lie more? I finally have the answer to that player’s pickup question.

Men occasionally lie about the big things. Women lie about everything all the time. Like gossip, it’s just another tactic for them to manufacture the drama they so desperately crave in their lives. Your goal should be to find that quality woman who lies about the big stuff less than the average woman.

I don’t advocate lying to get into a girl’s pants, not for ethical reasons but because it isn’t necessary. Good game will get you there without the lies, and you’re less likely to get busted in the future. I do lie by omission sometimes, like not telling a girl my oversized member might hurt her, or that I’m dating around, unless she asks. I might even lie if she asks, because if I’ve just started dating another girl on the side I don’t consider that “dating another girl”. In my moral calculus, “dating” means more than five dates and you’ve banged her more than once. Anything less is “sampling”. This system has worked for me so far.

If you cross paths with a weak woman given to lying, don’t try to save her from herself. And don’t use her natural weakness as an excuse to get in the mud with her. Instead, look out for number one and do what’s in your best interest. Adopt a 1 to 10 sliding moral scale and place the women you date along that scale based on how you judge their characters.

All else equal, the closer she gets to 10 the more you will want to invest in her. She is worth it.

The closer she is to 1, the less you will want to invest in her. She is a succubus and will own your soul if you let her. Devalue her and let the good times roll. Your sperm will likely be mixing with another man’s sperm in her vagina.

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Thought Experiment

ANSWER:

Man (B) is worth more.

Man (A) will get more pussy than his intrinsic worth would suggest.

*******

Which person is worth more?

a. an overweight, balding, dull-witted man who is self-confident.

b. a good-looking, smart, rich man who is insecure.

Now ask yourself, which person will have more success with women?

How far can inner game take you? Is manufactured self-esteem — I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people want to bang me — an essential psyche-out or a chimera? Is it deceptive advertising or better marketing? Are all those pickup business models right in emphasizing getting a handle on your inner demons before tackling your outer battles, no matter the actual reality of your station in life?

Ultimately, mental calisthenics in service to ego-propping and conscious affirmations of self-confidence are acts of self-delusion. This is a rational choice, for the ability to delude oneself is a survival trait. For instance, we all live in a fantasy world concerning the real horrors of old age that await us.

Self-delusion or a depressive spiral ending with a gun barrel in your mouth. You choose.

And, thus, this is why so many instinctively recoil at the “ugly truths”. The abyss is too deep and too dark to contemplate.

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Speed Dating Sucks

I went to a speed dating event here in DC with my date and one of her girlfriends. The idea was that we would have some over-the-top fun with it while practicing our flirting skills on a maximum number of targets in a minimum amount of time in order to keep our game sharp. (Lord knows this is much easier for women to do. Their game amounts to cleavage.) We would pretend not to know each other. A side benefit from surreptitiously watching each other work the magic with other speed daters would be heightened sexual arousal that would resolve itself later in the night in panty-shredding lust. Kink alert in full effect.

We devised the questions we would ask our four minute “dates”. She wanted to see how much she could get away with so these were the questions with which she was going to pepper her speed suitors:

How much do you gross per year?
What kind of car do you drive?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
Can you support me so I don’t have to work?
How many cleaning ladies do you think is reasonable?
What kind of engagement ring would you get me?
How much would you allot to spend on our wedding?
What would you like to name our first born?
What does your stock portfolio look like?
If my mother gets sick, can she come live with us?
How many cats do you think is normal?
Do you mind if I hang a portrait of my cat in the living room?
I’m a scientologist. Would you be willing to convert for me?
What were your SAT scores?
What was your standing as far as getting picked in gym class?

She even wanted to bring a Barbie and Ken, give them to the guy, and say, “now act out how we would resolve an argument.”

I admit I laughed at these. If the victims guys were smart, they’d play along and say things like “I have one whole cent in my stock portfolio!” Most likely, they’d get defensive or answer straight. Speed dating crowds are that kind of people.

Since I wanted to join in the glib fun, I made up a list of questions I would ask my dates to see how far I could push my game past its barriers:

Are you flexible? How many yoga positions can you get in? How long can you keep them?
Are you confident enough to go bra-less?
Do you like sex in public?
Are you comfortable with the idea of having yourself photographed nude?
Can you suck a thick milkshake through a straw?
Are you good a good cook? (actually, i use this one a lot)
You’re not a prude, are you?
How do you feel about housework in the nude? (Seinfeld nixes it.)
Are you cool with threesomes?
Would you consider yourself experimental in the bedroom?
Do you like to travel… to have sex in exotic locales?
Does looking at a cigar turn you on?

Unfortunately, neither of us got the chance to try out our souped-up conversational skills on unwitting speed daters. When we arrived, it was clear this was the saddest crowd of lonely hearts in all of DC. The women were mid-30s to mid-40s and older and looking every bit of it and the men, while older and, from the bits of conversation I overheard, successful professionals, made it worse for themselves by dressing in rumpled shirts like accountants on casual Friday and slumping in their chairs with the familiar drawn faces of those who have been beaten down by life. My date and her friend completely lost interest in sitting through even one second of this four minute dating of the damned, so we left as soon as we got our stick-on nametags. They should call it speed dying.

The impression I got walking by the tables of speed daters was the same I got when I first visited my grandmother at a nursing home — chamber of horrors. The rank miasma of bedraggled desperation, depression, and utter hopelessness was overbearing. It settled around me like a suffocating shroud of despair, sapping all the fun out of being alive.

There is nothing more pathetic and… alien… than a pre-menopausal aging childless woman throwing herself headlong into the chaotic vagaries of dating. When a woman doesn’t have children to nurture and raise by her early 30s she morphs rapidly into a sad and tragic creature — a shell entity of raging cynicism that can do no more than go through the motions — that no one wants to be around. Whatever is left of her innate femininity, beauty and sexiness is destroyed to dust by that point. And the men, despite their well-paying jobs as corporate lawyers, lobbyists, and policy analysts, seemed to have forgotten or never bothered to learn what it takes to attract a woman. Hint: waving a stable job and a fat paycheck ain’t it.

My advice to the guys who run these speed dating and related social events in DC: Stop charging $60 to $300 for your lameass glorified happy hours. I understand you’re all about making a buck, but when you set the price at airline ticket levels you will get those men who have nothing to offer but their money, and those women who want nothing else but those men who offer nothing but their money. End result: Older bitter women desperate for husbands and boring beta males desperate to slide comfortably into sexless soulless predictable suburban ennui. If you want to spice it up and attract a more diverse, fun crowd (read: younger), try a lower price range and more casually creative get togethers. But hey, it looks like you’ve cornered the niche market of schlubs and hags who’ll pay through the nose like clockwork every week seeing the same people over and over and hoping against hope that one more contrived event and another $100 will usher their soulmates through the door.

Tick tock and all that.

Verdict: *Shudder*

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