The Folly Before The Fall

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The Most Unattractive Trait On Women

Ass hair.

More than a few women, particularly those of Levantine extraction, have fluffy furrow forests. There’s nothing as boner-instakilling as doing a girl from behind, spreading her cheeks for a glorious vista, only to find a wispy patch of dark anus fuzz greeting your arrival.

Ass hair is, and should be, the domain of men. No exceptions. Women, grab a mirror and inspect your nethers. Does your pussy hair continue past your taint like a growing moss? You’ve got a big problem. Get rid of it, fast, if you don’t want to lose that perfect man after the first date. (Second date if you’re Amish.) I don’t care what it takes or how much it’ll hurt — wax it, Nair it, zap it, dip it in an acid bath — just grit your teeth and think of how pleased your 15 year old remedial math student will be.

It’s hard to believe in this day and age there are women out there who don’t fully grasp the importance of their looks on how men perceive them. You can be a 10, but a thatch of ass hair will immediately deduct 5 points. It’s so unattractive, men will actually try to avoid having sex with you in favor of gazing at your pretty face and listening to you blab about Gossip Girl.

Even worse? When the pussy juice mingles with the ass hair, transforming it into an oily slick of matted seaweed.

Is any of this getting through to you?

This has been a deliberately disgusting and effectively shaming PSA.

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Arnold, Steroids And Mud Sharks

It’s an open secret that Arnold used steroids throughout his bodybuilding career, and probably uses them today (either as part of an anti-aging program, or to buff up for a film, like he did for T3.) If he was on a cycle when he banged that ugly housemaid of his, that would explain a lot.

I’ve talked with the really hyooge roided up guys in the gym about going on cycle, and they’ve told me that on steroids they’re indiscriminately horny all day long. “I’d stick my dick in a dog’s anus if pussy wasn’t around,” is how one dude colorfully put it.

Arnold is a high status alpha male. Why he would bang, and impregnate!, an ugly broad seemingly makes no sense. But a little analysis helps the picture become clearer. As I explained in a previous post addressing this specific subject, most alpha males are cheating with hot, younger mistresses. We remember the ones, like Hugh Grant, who hook up with fuglies because they are the exceptions to the common rule. But there are other reasons why a guy like Arnold might cheat with a woman so far below him in sexual market value it may as well be an interspecies mating.

One, convenience. A busy man might just grab the nearest pussy available. Alpha males can be lazy about chasing women for sex, particularly if they have a de facto harem already at their disposal to clean the princely penis. Two, and in my opinion the more parsimonious explanation — Arnold was roided up to the gills when his boner pointed in the direction of Mamacita Starch Bomb.

Testosterone is the infidelity and ambition hormone, but it comes with a dark side: too much can cloud a man’s perception and good judgement. A guy on roids might be so climb-the-walls horny that a dumpy, unattractive maid bending over to scrub the floors could look irresistible in the moment. This would also explain the pregnancy; a very horny man needs to get off NOW, and condoms just don’t enter the equation in the heat of passionate release.

Arnold also has a thing for Latinas (and asses and carrots), so maybe his gross maid represented the closest facsimile to his true desire that he could find within his WASPy, stiff-hipped social milieu.

This could help to answer the question why all men don’t continually evolve to have higher and higher testosterone levels. Perhaps because of its ability to impair judgement, testosterone could be subject to runaway selection, where the advantage of being incredibly motivated to fight and fuck everything in sight is nullified by the disadvantage of losing fights and banging low quality women.

And let’s face it, it’s not for nothing that the most advanced civilizations are filled with men who have more discriminating tastes in women.

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Tiger Blood Game

How do you survive that?

Because I’m me. I’m different. I just have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart… you know, I’ve got tiger blood, man.

A big thank you is owed super alpha Charlie Sheen for distracting us Americans from the debt sinkhole, multicult mass brain disease and Third Worldization of our country. Thanks bud!

What can be said about this guy? Is he a little crazy? Yep. A jerk? Yep. A drug addict? Probably. Alpha? You bet.

No one claimed alpha males had to be admirable (though personally I find much to admire about Sheen). The alpha male and the admirable man may often be the same, but not always. Women, saddled as their emotionally stunted gender is with an underdeveloped sense of justice and fairness, swoon for the alpha male, whether or not he is admirable. Sure, women will talk a big talk about the fine traits of admirable men, but when pussy comes to tingle, it’s double alpha all the way.

Sheen is an example of the highwire alpha extremis male who draws women into his orbit through intensity, unpredictability, charisma and rebelliousness. What he lacks in grace under pressure and amused mastery he makes up for with brazen candor and fearlessness, as well as a take-no-shit-from-anyone attitude. We could call this Tiger Blood Game.

There’s a lot to note in Sheen’s Tiger Blood Game that follows the tenets of this blog.

I’ve got magic and I’ve got poetry in my fingertips, and you know… this includes NAPS.

Cocky funny.

I’m an F-18, bro. I will destroy you in the air and I will deploy my ordnance to the ground.

I am on a drug. It’s called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available, because if you try it once, you will die.

Be interesting. If you’re going to strut, do it in a way that is funny and captivating.

Stuff just comes out. It’s sounds fun. It sounds different than all the garbage other people are spewing.

Demonstrating higher value via contrast with lower value people. This is similar to the technique of building comfort with a date by poking fun of a guy doing poorly on his date, or asking a girl “how many of these horndogs tonight slobbered all over you?”.

Are you apologizing for anything right now?

Well, I kind of set that one up nicely, didn’t I? Yeah, no, I’m… really, I’m upset about how something was interpreted. I feel terrible it, so I think we should just clear the air on that.

Excellent dodge. The alpha male never apologizes, particularly when he has nothing to apologize for and people are demanding the apology for their own status boosting reasons. (Really, is Chaim, or his shalom chorus, *that* upset that Sheen called him Chaim?)

Stay away from the crack… unless you can manage it socially.

Be a rebel, but be right. This statement may have raised the hackles of the anti-drug crusaders, but it’s true. Some people can handle it, some can’t. Charlie Sheen has money, fame and likely a genetic disposition that enables him to partake of the smiley snow without suffering too many adverse affects. I’ve known quite a few top-flight school MBA students who snorted on the regular, and they’re making money hand over fist.

Sheen did backpedal from this statement, which is understandable. The fuzz are probably on him, so he has to be circumspect now.

Did any of your celebrity friends [editor note: competitor alpha males] give you any advice?

Well, they didn’t give me any advice, and within that, there’s great advice… it was just love.

The alpha male never credits other alphas if it means a diminution in his own status. “Love” is a neutral term in this context which preserves Sheen’s alpha cred.

When you look back at the last time you used drugs, are you disgusted with yourself? Do you think ‘How could I have done that?’

No, no, I’m proud of what I’ve created. It was radical.

You’re proud of that party moment? [editor: classic shaming moment. Will Charlie bite?]

Of course, why wouldn’t I be? [editor: he does not. Bravo!]

Why would you be?

Because I expose people to magic, I expose them to something they’re never going to otherwise see in their normal, boring lives.

He’s bringing the viewer into his world. This is classic attraction phase material. It requires some chutzpah, to be sure, but pimps will tell you this type of “pot of gold at the end of the rainbow” game works wonders on women.

Your anger and your hate are coming off as erratic to people.

My passion, my passion.

The alpha male does not abide others’ frames. He reframes every interaction to his advantage.

Some people say you’re bipolar. That you’re on two ends of the extreme.

Wow, really? So what’s the cure? Medicine? Make me like them? Not gonna happen.

Excellent DHV.

Notice that the question that got Sheen genuinely angry was the reference to his father disapproving of his lifestyle. That is because to a super alpha like Charlie…

only his dad is the greater alpha.

You may not like Sheen, but he’s right about one thing — the most important thing, in fact: He’s taking hot young pornstars to the islands for fuckathons while you’re a depressing bore going home to ingrate kids and a fat wife yelling at you to mow the lawn.

As Sheen might say, “I’m bi-winning.” Truth is, he is.

Well, until the Hollywood honchos string him up like they did Mel Gibson.

Funny story. I was having dinner with friends — mostly an assortment of West Coast SWPLs — and the Sheen subject came up. One guess which Sheen foible got them the most exorcised. Hint: it wasn’t the pornstars, the drugs, the braggadocio, the craziness or the poor parenting.

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Woman Is The Kitty Of The World

Soul of a woman was created from cats.

Cats are funny. If you’re around a cat, it won’t deign to give you more than a passing token of affection, usually around dinner time. But if you leave it alone for a couple of days, upon return it will rush up to you, urgently meowing and bumping its head into your leg, starved for affection. It will then curl up in your lap, thankful you are back home, and purr contentedly until a glisten of cat saliva forms on its mouth. Then, once a certain amount of time has passed in your lap, (as determined by whatever cat brain mechanism is at work), the cat will decide it has had its fill of your love and promptly jump off to saunter out of the room with the closest approximation to a haughty look a cat can muster. If you attempt to follow it for more petting, it will harshly meow and maybe even take a swipe at you.

The cat wants your love on its terms. It does not value your affection freely given. It is most loveable when it has been psychologically mindfucked to believe it was on the verge of being abandoned. Just like women.

This inscrutability and natural aloofness perfectly explains the appeal of cats to women, and why they identify so strongly with the hellforged beasts. They see in them reflections of their gender’s psychological traits, and, being cognitively biased to project onto an idealized man that which comprises their own contours of sexual desire, thus anthropomorphize the cat into the alpha male lover they wish was courting them.

I like cats. They’re cute, fluffy stress balls. Give ’em a squeeze round the middle and feel your stress melt away. But dogs make better pets. Dog owners tend to be earthy and grounded. Cat owners tend to be drama-prone and concerned with image.

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Prole Vs SWPL

Half Sigma has a running gag on his blog comparing the tastes of proles (the proletariat, i.e. the working class and lower middle class, with perhaps some bleeding into the middle class) with those of the higher classes. I can’t tell if he’s being ironically deadpan or sincere, but it’s funny nonetheless. Categorizing the peculiarities of your lessers is so much more entertaining than watching Dancing With The Stars.

For instance, did you know that Red Delicious apples are prole while Fuji apples are SWPL? I always had a vague inkling that was the case, but now I know why: Red Delicious are oversized, gaudy, juicy and excessively sweet. Fujis are a more natural size, less ostentatious, less juicy and mildly sweet with subtle earthy undertones. This pretty much encapsulates the difference in class tastes; proles have an underdeveloped aesthetic that can only appreciate the bluntness of flash and tackiness, much like how an infant is drawn to bright primary colors. SWPLs have a mature aesthetic that gravitates to understatement, irony, and “hidden meanings”. On the color wheel, SWPLs would be the tertiary colors (red-orange, blue-green). This is because they are mincing little pukes who love to nuance everything to death.

I’m gonna run with this. Expanding on Half Sigma’s theme, here is my prole vs SWPL chart. I count SWPLs as generally middle to upper middle class whites (and some honorary Asians), raised through their formative years in leafy suburbs, and living in hip urban enclaves with other like-minded whites, often on their parents’ dimes. Hipsters, scenesters and yuppies are SWPL subgroups. Their tastes tend to converge even when their politics don’t (although as a rule SWPLs are pretty much standard operating procedure liberals. A conservative SWPL is what’s known as a “benefactor”. Or an engineer.)

Conservative and liberal SWPLs co-locate. Proles cohabitate.

If you have to ask what the acronym SWPL means, you are a prole. Or a foreigner.

Multicolored Christmas lights – prole
White or blue Christmas lights – SWPL
Bulb ornaments – prole
Antique doll ornaments – SWPL
Actual star or an angel on top of tree – prole
Homemade concoction by niece or a cubist representation of a star on top of tree – SWPL
Inflatable Santa and reindeer on front lawn – prole
Only decoration is Christmas tree in window and perhaps wreath on front door – SWPL
Nativity scenes – prole
Christmas miniature villages – SWPL
Kids get electronic toys minus the batteries – prole
Kids get puzzles, books, board games and art supplies with batteries included where necessary – SWPL
CVS brand batteries – prole
Rechargeable batteries (or better still, solar recharging) – SWPL
USAToday – prole
NYBTimes – SWPL
Glenn Beck – prole
Steve Sailer – SWPL
Jim Webb – prole
Nancy Pelosi – SWPL
Alarm clock set to morning zoo radio program – prole
Alarm clock set to soothing cadence of NPR – SWPL
Cloth sofas – prole
Microfiber sofas – SWPL
Motorcycles – prole
Scooters – SWPL
Tuna fish – prole
Salmon – SWPL
Bartlett pears – prole
Asian pears – SWPL
Barbequed ribs – prole
Bison meat – SWPL
Shredded cheese – prole
Smelly cheese – SWPL
Porn with anal penetration and loud, fake moaning from the girls – prole
Regular sex porn with pink-haired emo girls squeaking like mice – SWPL
Sluts – prole
Sluts pretending to be good girls – SWPL
Public sex – prole
Role playing – SWPL
Diabetes – prole
Stress fractures – SWPL
Sugary cereal – prole
Paleo diet – SWPL
Domestic industrial beer – prole
Microbrews – SWPL
Zinfandel – high prole
Pinot noir – SWPL
Shot glasses from different cities and vacation spots – prole
Stemless wine glasses – SWPL
Blended whiskey – prole
Single malt scotch – SWPL
Gays seen as threat or butt of jokes – prole
Gays seen as cool social ornaments or butt of jokes smoothed over with ironic plausible deniability – SWPL
Meth – prole
Coke – SWPL
Weight room – prole
Yoga – SWPL
Backyard wrestling – prole
Marathon running – SWPL
Biceps (men), tits (women) – prole
Six pack (men), calves (women) – SWPL
Children – prole
Apartment sized pets – SWPL
Home installing – prole
Home brewing – SWPL
Decks – prole
Patios – SWPL
Lawns – prole
Gardens – SWPL
“No fat chicks” t-shirt – prole
“This is what a feminist looks like” t-shirt – SWPL
NRA – prole
ACLU – SWPL
Cable – prole
Streaming video – SWPL
QVC – prole
Adult Swim – SWPL
Leno, CSI, DWTS, American Idol, Sarah Palin’s Alaska – prole
Stewart, Colbert, O’Brien, Tosh.o, Tim and Eric – SWPL
NASCAR, UFC – prole
Soccer, tennis – SWPL
Sleeps with fat chicks but would prefer skinny chicks – prole
Sleeps with skinny chicks but claims fat chicks would be perfectly fine – SWPL
Knows what the meaning of “is” is – prole
Knows what the meaning of “is” is, but pretends not to – SWPL
Paid summer jobs (or unemployment) – prole
Unpaid summer internships (AKA unemployment) – SWPL
Disney World – prole
Amsterdam – SWPL
Cleveland – prole
San Francis – SWPL
Patriotism, anti-quotas, de facto integrationism – prole
Feminism, anti-racism, de facto segregationism – SWPL
Transformers – prole
The Kids Are All Right – SWPL
“Show us your tits!” – prole
“Hey ho hey ho, Western culture’s gotta go” – SWPL
Family lives close by (no buffer zone) – prole
Family lives three flyover states away (buffer zone) – SWPL
WWJD? – prole
COEXIST – SWPL
First person shooter – prole
RTS or MMORPG – SWPL
Ford F150 – prole
Vespa – SWPL
Church – prole
Sunday brunch mimosas – SWPL
Drinking and fighting – prole
Drinking and snippily chastising – SWPL
Basement parties – prole
Stoop parties – SWPL
Naturals – prole
PUAs – SWPL
Taylor Swift – prole
MGMT – SWPL
Tom Cruise – prole
Colin Firth – SWPL
Nikes – prole
Vibram Fivefingers – SWPL
Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirts – prole
Thinkgeek.com t-shirts – SWPL
Motorola  – prole
iPhone – SWPL
Bumping and grinding – prole
Salsa lessons – SWPL
Single moms – prole
Single – SWPL
Wolf whistling – prole
Shy glances – SWPL
PeopleofWalmart.com – prole
Will Wilkinson – SWPL
Divvies the check up by the exact amount each person in a party owes – prole
Splits the check evenly by number of party members – SWPL
Kiddie beauty pageants – prole
Kiddie bilingualism – SWPL

These are, of course, generalizations. Exceptions exist.

I give SWPLs a lot of shit for their hypocrisy, sanctimony and status whoring, but I wouldn’t want to live, for example, a prole lifestyle in a redneck neighborhood where COPS isn’t just a show on TV. The lower classes are crass, boorish and often thoughtlessly impulsive. Their kids are snot-nosed brats and bullies. When they speak their rudimentary patois, you will cringe. Their abysmal taste in the finer pleasures of life is a perpetual turn-off for those who would be their natural political allies. But they already get so much shit from the MSM that I don’t feel an urge to pile on them. I prefer to hunt the hunters.

Low class antics aside, working class proles are, by and large, honorable people. SWPLs are clever neutered ciphers. The average small town prole is much more genial than the typical urban SWPL, and more generous of spirit as well. When charitable giving is on the line, or when it’s a friendly voice and a warm smile you need, proles step up to the plate. SWPLs, meanwhile, are busy quipping like French aristocrats trying so SOO hard to impress their fellow SWPLs.

Proles are the backbone of vital enterprises like the military, but they could learn a thing or two from the culturally advanced classes. Of course, being proles, they probably don’t give a shit about impressing the SWPL schoolmarms, or they at least act like they don’t give a shit. And quite frankly, I don’t blame them for eschewing SWPL tastes. Aside from the aesthetics, what is there to admire in such a repugnantly self-regarding group of irony-pimping, snark-spitting, transnationalist, post-American lifestyle whores?

Both groups are signaling their status through their tastes, so morally neither one is better than the other. They are both sheep with a herd mentality, just following different herds. But an objective aesthetic judgement can be made that at least some (not all) of the SWPL tastes are superior. (Some taste differences are just downright arbitrary, and probably serve more as markers of delineation from perceived lower classes — AKA “wrong kind of white people” — than as honestly felt improvements in quality of life. For instance, there’s nothing about multicolored Christmas lights that makes them inherently inferior to white Christmas lights. In fact, not long ago, white lights were considered gauche.)

I always advise pay no heed to what women say; instead, watch what they do. You shall know them by their actions. Well, the same could be said for the places you choose to live and the people with whom you choose to associate.

Look around you. Do you feel a twinge of cognitive dissonance? Yet you admit to yourself it is a pretty good life. Don’t underestimate the satisfying feeling of being a dark force moving stealthily through the oblivious masses. They will do your bidding.

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American Woman In One Photo

If a provincial foreigner who had never left his tiny village were to meet me and ask what American women are like, instead of bothering with a long-winded exegesis I would show him this photo. The understanding would be immediate.

Fat? Check.

Delusion of grandeur? Check.

Ridiculous standards? Check.

Pop culture cipher? Check.

Overinflated ego? Check.

Self-entitled princess? Check.

Living in fantasy world? Check.

Craves demonic prolespawn with sexually unavailable, aloof vampire who will always be by her side gazing longingly into her beady, pig-like eyes to protect her from danger? Check and checkmate.

This is how it starts, folks. The road to SUS — Spinsterly, Unattractive and Single.

After the foreigner and I got done laughing, he would thank me for giving him a newfound appreciation of his local women. Joylessly, I would further inform him that there are American men who would happily lay with that porky princess, thus feeding her ego beyond the ability of science to measure it. He would shudder as I told him that desperate betas and indiscriminate horndogs willing to beg for table scraps guarantees there are tens of millions of American women just like her who have no incentive to improve their looks or their attitudes. Then we would part, and I would notice a skip in his step.

Oh well, at least we have cheap smartphones.

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