Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘Ridiculousness’ Category

I’ve received inside info about a second date gone bad from a female party who shall remain anonymous. I post it here to illustrate for the men reading what *not* to do on a date. I found the scenario described by Anonymous Girl a textbook example of the egregious dating fouls committed by the typical beta.

******

Had my second date last night. we had a lovely dinner, good conversation, albeit he seemed a bit manic to get his points across.

I can’t believe in this day and age there are still guys who take girls out on dinner dates. Please. Dinner is what your girlfriend cooks you. If you’re stuffing food in your mouth, you’re not charming her with your words or tonguing her down. Dinner dates = contrived ambience = uncomfortable pressure = killing the sexy vibe. And speaking with urgency is a major beta giveaway. Betas seeking approval always try to cram as many of their thoughts into a conversation as possible, hoping that one of the conversational threads and/or embarrassing personal vignettes will impress the girl and lead to intimacy. Frantic speed talking = beta. Slow laconic conversation where every word has the weight of an advancing glacier = alpha.

as the night wore on, i had trouble taking him seriously. he has 3 [dorky types of clothing] he writes about on fbook, he joked they were bigger than obama. he wore one last night. i know it’s a joke, but he is vain.

pretty quickly, his [occupational] addiction/cliquey [occupation] thing began grating on my nerves. he insisted on making a phone call outside the restaurant, he believes it’s a cardinal sin to do it in the restaurant. he had thoughtfully made reservations at another restaurant in case this one was full but then made a point of telling me how appreciative the other place was when he cancelled the reservation. ??

I’ve included this bit to show you how many hoops a girl expects a man to jump through, without his knowing ahead of time just what those hoops entail. This is an elaborate stained-glass window into the mental 463 bullet point checklist that girls carry with them every time they meet a potential suitor. As men, we hardly comprehend this need of women to judge every insignificant and irrelevant detail, and thinking too hard about this will cause great internal confusion and manifest as a terrible neediness to “win her over” on dates.

While the actions of the guy above aren’t the stuff of 100% coolness, viewed in the proper perspective he didn’t do anything that would warrant expulsion from the society of normal human beings. This makes a lot of guys resentful of women and their fickle standards. Forget about it. The good news: If you run tight game, you don’t have to worry about meeting her bullet points. She’ll excuse away minor idiosyncracies as long as you are turning her on.

when the charcuterie plate arrived heaped with blood sausage and other alien delicacies like broccoli/cauliflower hybrids he whispered, ‘and so it begins’ in my ear and kissed my hair, nauseating.

And then there are the non-minor idiosyncracies. I can’t believe a guy can make it through decades of life and not know this would creep out a woman. Leaning in after the blood sausage arrives and whispering “and so it begins” in her ear while kissing her hair is not sexy, though I bet he concocted this putatively James Bond-esque scenario in his head in a thrill of devilish gusto and was eager to try it out in real life.

Timing: Lesser Beta.
Execution: Greater Omega.
Intent: Greater Beta.

I do give him points for boldness, however maladroit.

last night he took his glasses off and was sort of slouching in the booth – i think he was trying to cue me to do something.

Funny. A lot of guys think slouching is sexy, that it highlights the aloofness girls love so much. More often than not, slouching shows a guy who can’t sit up straight. If you’ve already established your alpha cred, you can slouch and seem coolly unperturbed. If you’re in betaland, your slouching will look like the posture of a broken, dispirited man. If he was attempting to nonverbally signal readiness for a BJ, slouching is a half-assed way to go about it. I recommend approaching naked, fully erect, a few inches from her face until she goes cross-eyed. Preferably in a crowded restaurant.

i put my fur on and said i had to go home, work tomorrow. by now there was something vaguely passive aggressive in the air that really spurred me on to think of myself. i payed for half the meal. now i wonder: if i had been more physical, would he have payed for the entirety?

When betas feel sexually thwarted it comes out as passive aggressive weakness. An alpha knows to keep a cool head and refrain from letting his frustration bubble to the surface, where it can poison any future possibility of his date setting him up with one of her hottie friends.

It’s interesting to note that girls make the connection between money and physical escalation. Lesson: Flip the script. If you pay for a girl’s drinks, don’t push her for the kiss. And vice versa: If she gets physical with you, don’t start paying for her drinks as reward. Conspicuous enticement is anhedonic.

when we got outside he said, ‘do you mind?’ standing like four feet away from me. i’m like, ‘do you mind what?’ he kissed me, big warm kiss. it was all of 2 seconds. he lept back and complained that it was like a ’17th century kiss’ – and on and on about how bad it was. i gave him a pity hug and hailed a cab with the other arm. he murmured something about liking my fur. it actually really hurt my feelings. his civility ended in the restaurant and then he pulled the claws out. way too much insecurity for a second date.

“it actually really hurt my feelings.” Negs work!

It just goes to show how even ostensibly smart guys can have zero concept of game.  “Do you mind?”?!?  Oh no that won’t do.  Major DLV.  *IF* a man is going to ask for a kiss, the term of art is “would you like to kiss me”, a la Mystery style.  Then you have your followup answers ready: If she says “yes”, go for it.  “Maybe”, say “Let’s find out” and go for it.  “No”, say “Well, I didn’t say you COULD. You just had that look on your face.”

But the kiss question is moot. It’s best to simply lean in when the moment is right and bust a move. No words exchanged.

As if the hole wasn’t deep enough, the guy emailed her the next morning to fully display for public humiliation and my wicked amusement whatever shreds of betatude he neglected to air out during the date.

Him: That had to be the worst kiss ever.  I give it my lowest rating; one star, plus a thumbs down. Still, for the sake of my ego (which is not too enthusiastic about sexual rejection), the chaste kiss is better than getting the cheek. Nevertheless, I had fun.  I think you are trill.

This is straight out of cocky/funny game. Except he did it all wrong. You’re not supposed to tell the girl her kiss was terrible, you’re supposed to rate it a “7, but i think with practice you could get up to an 8, or a 9 even”. And you have to do it in person, with a sly grin, not over email the next morning when the moment has long passed! What an amateur. Then he lowered his value further by admitting he was sexually rejected.

Maxim #75: If you get sexually rejected, don’t admit it to yourself, and especially don’t admit it to the girl.

And what does ‘trill’ mean? Sounds vaguely LARPer-ish.

Back to Anonymous Girl:

he hurt my feelings. i emailed him back – told him i’m not a restaurant and that he should ‘work it out.’ i guess these are the perils of the dating world! what a weirdo.

ps it should be noted i was complimentary throughout the entire evening, on the shirt, the restaurant, his writing, his family sagas…i guess he could smell that i wasn’t INTO him though and decided to dive bomb the entire experience in retaliation — gay.

Divebombing is the spurned id unleashed. Closers can afford to divebomb; betas cannot. If you sense that your date isn’t INTO you, then the best thing to do is say you had a nice time, wish her good luck finding someone, and leave. Don’t make a production out of it. Expressively minimalist is the alpha way when handling rejection. Vengeance is ecstatically thrilling from a position of power, but cringingly self-defeating from the vantage point of a cornered pig ego-pricked and bleeding beta all over the ground.

Strategically, I have a hard time blaming this guy for the failure of this courtship. There were other forces he was unaware of that conspired against his succeeding. Tactically, though, he was a complete fuck-up. His is the classic case of a congenital beta overreaching in a spazzy attempt at grasping the alpha mantle, landing a flurry of off-target blows, only to dissolve in a mudpuddle of piglet squeals when things didn’t go his way.

Read Full Post »

LXXXXXX XXXX Fri 10pm – m4m (staircase to sidewalk)


Reply to: XXXXXXXXXXXX@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-10-11, 9:16AM EDT

you walked down to the sidewalk from the west bldg, made eye contact, then went back inside your bldg….second staircase. you had a hat on and i was dog walking.


I got excited until I noticed it was from a dude. 😯

Read Full Post »

have the power of:

Invisibility?
Immortality?
Flight?
Super strength?
Irresistible sexual magnetism?
A giant cock that never fails to please? (Perfect body and face if you are a woman)

Invisibility would let you enter girls’ locker rooms and bathrooms unnoticed. This is like Porky’s minus the peepholes. As an invisible person, you could pilfer cash registers and rob banks unmolested. You could film upskirt videos all day long.

Immortality — tough to top this. Like in the movie Groundhog Day, immortality would allow you to hone your game to perfection. Approach a thousand sets? Please, give me a real challenge! After a few millennia picking up chicks in cities around the world you’d be such a formidable PUA the bards will write songs about you. Johnny Depp would sign up for your bootcamp. The perfect age at which to acquire immortality? Men: 30. Women: 20.

Flight is cool. Flight is alpha. It is the ultimate DHV (demonstration of higher value. literally!). Heroes sucks because Nathan hardly ever uses his ability to fly. It’s like he’s ashamed of it. What a pussy. I’d be up in the air all the time. Having trouble closing the deal on that Day 2? Just lean in and whisper “Hey, lemme show you something”, put your arm around her waist, and glide over the city. Instant orgasm.

Super strength is another DHV, but one of limited applicability. Lift a car aside so your girl has room to parallel park? Awesome. Knock out a roomful of meatheads for the sheer joy of it? That’s try hard. You’ll get laid by sluts with high primitiveness, but the quality girls will roll their eyes.

Irresistible sexual magnetism means you would pick up the handful of chicks who aren’t turned on by flying in the air with the guy above. It’s big advantage is that you don’t need to do jack shit to get laid. Just sit on a chair and wait for the girls to come to you. There’s not much thrill of the chase, but it does make life easier. I predict a lot of betas would choose this power.

As I am blessed with an enormous, pussy pleasing cock, I can only tell you this power is as good as you’d imagine. My life would be so much easier if it was socially acceptable to unzip and let it roll to the ground on first dates. Unfortunately, I still have to go through the motions of courting women.

Read Full Post »

Dear beloved Chi Cha
this ode is for you
if your lounge was music
it would be a Bachian fugue
many a lady whore
have i lured
to the glow of your blood red boudoir
appletini-stained sofas
hookah smoke swirled above us
drinks that hurt my bank account
greasy doorman checks us out
through it all you stayed my place
where i took my ladywhores for dates
staff smiled knowingly at my whore parade
and ran bets which dates i laid
Chi Cha you set the mood right
pussy opened up in your amber light
i gave you much in drink money
and you paid me back in liquored honeys

but then you went and fucked it up
you thought you weren’t douche enough
so you had people wait in a line
when clearly no one was inside
this policy is cheese
when it’s in NYC
but here in DC
it’ll kill your revenue stream
and so i’ve noticed lately
not many patrons i see
here’s a suggestion from me
toss the pseudo-Victorian love seats
and add a Wii.

img_0803.jpg

Read Full Post »

I once wrote a post advising you to never send archiveable communication to a girl that you would be ashamed of if it were publicly broadcast:

If [your texts and emails] were given a public airing, let’s say on a blog or the Verizon Center jumbotron, you should feel comfortable with what you have written for the world to see.  You should not feel an urge to wince, because it will be clear to everyone reading it how alpha you are.  If the thought of someone other than you and your girl reading your permanently archived romantic exchanges makes you cringe with embarrassment, then you are doing something wrong that will eventually lead to your girl dumping you.

A female reader [name withheld] emailed me the following text exchange she had with a guy she met recently. She wanted me to post it as learning aid for betas everywhere on what NOT to do. Her sad, sorry tale of woe demonstrates why my rule of thumb — don’t write a girl anything that would humiliate you if publicly aired — is important: You give yourself a chance with the girl, and you don’t get ass raped on a public forum such as my blog.

Please help the betas of the world understand why I don’t want to talk to this guy I met a few weeks ago, who I had the following convo with via txt:

9/25 1:33PM
Him:  Are we still hangin 2moro

9/25 1:57PM
Me:  Hey…actually I’m headed back to Portland this weekend.  My parents just decided to move to Seattle next month so I have to help them pack.  Have a great weekend though

9/25 1:58PM
Him:  Damn harsh blow off! Thought u had people comin!

9/29 1:35PM
Him: Hey

*Note: He called me within one hour of this text.  I didn’t answer or call back.

9/30 2:20PM
Him: What’s up

9/30 2:36PM (Apparently he wasn’t getting the picture…so I responded)
Me: Nothing much

9/30 2:37PM
Him: How is work?

9/30 2:45PM
Me:  Oh alright.  Pretty busy right now though…can I send you a text later?

9/30 2:58PM
Him: Yea go for it hopefully we can meet up this wknd

10/1 9:27PM
Him: Do you have plans fri?

10/2 9:13AM
Me: Um…yeah.  I have a date with a guy I’ve been seeing for a couple weeks.  Sorry.  – This was a lie

10/2 9:23AM
Him: I see, I see well let me know when you’re free and we can work sumthin out

10/4 8:05PM
Him: Hello

If this guy is reading, I can almost feel the burn of his embarrassment. Let’s quickly itemize where he blew up the rails of the beta train.

  1. Right off the bat he asked her a question. Weak and needy. A better text: “I’ll see you tomorrow”.
  2. Infantile texting grammar. “2moro”? Leave the cutesie misspellings, shorthand, and emoticons to the girls. You are a man in control of the English language who calmly writes coherent, manly sentences.
  3. “Damn harsh blow off”? Never assume the rejection. And especially never announce it to her.
  4. Four days later: “Hey”. She didn’t respond to you four days ago. It’s not going anywhere. A few days incommunicado won’t make her horny for you. Delete her number or continue down your path of self-administered slow-mo castration.
  5. 9/30: “What’s up”. You’ve crossed into farce.
  6. 9/30: “Nothing much”. Now here is where my reader fucked up. Either continue ignoring him, block his number, or forcefully tell him off so he gets the idea. What she’s done here is give him an excuse to carry on haranguing her. I suspect she may have done this because she secretly enjoyed the negative attention. Some girls are like that.
  7. “How is work?” It was over by the first text, but as a helpful tip you should never ask lame, rapport-forcing questions like this.
  8. “Oh alright.  Pretty busy right now though…can I send you a text later?”. Wtf is this!? Hey, babe, if you don’t like a guy the response is simple: “Stop texting me. I don’t like you.” Are you an attention whore who likes to string losers along? If so, you get no sympathy from me. In fact, I hope the next guy you really like does the same to you. Karmic justice and all that.
  9. “Yea go for it hopefully we can meet up this wknd”. Hook, line and sinker. Try some self-control next time, Needy McNumbnuts.
  10. Two days later: “Do you have plans fri?” I quote Ronin: “Where there’s doubt, there’s no doubt.”
  11. “Um…yeah.  I have a date with a guy I’ve been seeing for a couple weeks.” This is what my reader should have sent him right after his first text. Did she toy with his hopeful eagerness so she could supply her true love with material for a blog post? Nyyaaaaahhhh… could be!
  12. “Hello”. I hope you’re 14. If you’re a full grown adult, you will die a virgin.

Well, I hope that was as painful for my readers as it was for me. It will have been worth it if I saved even one beta from serving as scathingly contemptuous giggle fodder at the next girls’ night in.

Read Full Post »

Before this gets taken down:

Check out the glowing “O”-face of the SWPL whiter person at 1:19. Really, you can’t make this shit up.

In other news, scientists discover evangelicals aren’t the only species of fundamentalist wackos.

Read Full Post »

I got roped into a baby shower for an acquaintance. I’d never been to one of these seminal events, though I’ve heard about them. It was as bad as I imagined, maybe worse. Between the pink ribbon-wrapped gifts, blankies, snugglies, baby bouncies, belly-rubbing, earnest discussions of contractions and labor, and torrents of sympathy sludge, I felt like I would suffocate on the maternally estrogenic fumes.

GIMME BOOB MILK!

GIMME BOOB MILK!

I saved my mental health by fantasizing what it would be like to make gentle love to a third trimester pregnant woman. This is a mountain I’ve yet to climb. It couldn’t be any more challenging than this. Or this.

The best gift by far was two small jewelry boxes. One was engraved with the words “My First Tooth” and the other with “My First Hair Curl”. This was a great gift because it put a smile on my face as I pondered the milestones that a bunch of my own engraved jewelry boxes filled with mementos of my past conquests would have celebrated.

“My First Forgotten Panty” — It’s pleasantly surprising waking up the next morning, after she has left in her drunken state, to stumble across her panties lying on the floor that she forgot to put on. *sniiiiiff*

“My First Hidden Video” — You never know, she could become famous. And you’ll need masturbation material for when you’re 80. Watching yourself fuck your girl in the bloom of youth >>>> internet porn.

“My First Period Fuck” — Put that bloody used condom or red-stained towel in the box, champ! You’ve earned it.

“My First Threesome” — See: “My First Hidden Video”.

“My First Close Call” — In here you put the abortion clinic receipt.

“My First Anal” — Awkward. You don’t want anything smelly in your box. An audio recording of her yelping in pain is acceptable.

“My First Russian Anal” — An audio recording of her yelping in pain in Russian. (It sounds like this: “Aye, aye aye, Ee ee yi yi yi!”. Music to my ears.)

“My First Raw Dog” — Take an after photo of your cock crusted in dried vaj juice.

“My First Facial” — Tough one to document. Wipe her face with a towel to capture the jizz and makeup in a Turin Shroud-like imprint. Put in box and pray to nightly for the blessings of future facials.

“My First Virgin” — See: My First Period Fuck. You might need a biohazard hymen container for this one.

“My First Fat Chick” — Empty.

“My First Psycho Bitch” — Restraining order.

“My First DC Lawyer Chick” — One silver bullet.

“My First Bartender” — STD fact sheet.

“My First Cunnilingus” — One gnarly pube.

Darwinianly-speaking, women huddle like pinkiron midwives around the expectant QB mother to fulfill a deeply subconscious group coherence bonding mechanism that works to assist the tribe raise its young. Since most women are going to get pregnant at some point in their lives they don’t worry about exerting effort helping out another woman’s child. Men don’t have the luxury to waste resources like this; they could easily lose out on the chance to pass on their genes if they spent time and money on a rival’s kid.

I walked out of that baby shower feeling grateful for being a man.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: