The Sluttiest Slut In The Whole Slutty World

Randall Parker over at Parapundit sent a link to some social survey data that teases out a few important characteristics of girls who are most likely to slut it up. The results won’t surprise anyone who is a regular reader of this blog.

Urban SWPL chicks are more likely than small town girls to cheat on their husbands. This was (happily) observed two years ago at the Chateau.

Atheists, the nonreligious, and C and E pew warmers are more likely than churchgoing girls to cheat on their husbands. We can deduce, then, that blue city anti-Christian liberals are sluttier than red state Jesus-loving conservatives. Again, the Chateau hosts are happily, and opportunistically, aware of this social dynamic.

Really smart chicks are more likely than dumb chicks to cheat on their husbands. (And a thousand fembot haters caught themselves mid-whine about how only low self esteem dummies would fall for pickup artists. D’oh!) I wonder if this means Jewish girls are the sluttiest girls of them all? And if true, would that then make the fact anti-Semitic? Would it still be anti-Semitic if the positive and empowering feminist definition of slut were invoked?

Real estate agents and lawyers are considerably more likely than teachers and bank tellers to cheat on their husbands. The Chateau knew this was true from simple real life observations nearly three years ago in its popular and notorious post “What A Girl’s Job Tells You“. Excerpts:

Lawyer

Amoral alpha males with vaginas.  Their yin is so deeply buried they spend all their free time (2 hours per week) fantasizing about a powerful dominant man releasing their inner woman.  This is your cue to ratchet up the assholery.  Outside of i-bankers and fashionistas, you will not meet a more materialistic or status-conscious chick than a lawyer.  When she inevitably starts talking about what law school she attended and politicos she knows, put your finger up to her mouth and say “shhh… stop.  from now on we will talk about happy things.  tell me only the good things that come to mind about your childhood.” Most lawyer chicks have large clits which they use to pin you down on the bed.  Making love to a lawyer means facefucking her till she pukes a little.  The gods of karmic retribution will be pleased with this.  Lawyers are always fucking over everyone else so this is your chance to return the favor.  Proceed with great relish.
Sexual Satisfaction Rating:  4/5th erection
Long Term Potential Rating:  don’t be a masochist

[,,,]

Elementary School Teacher

Pure gold.  Put this girl on your short list for long term commitment.  What’s not to love about the elementary school teacher?  Cute, thin (it’s a workout chasing kids all day), ultra feminine, nurturing, selfless, caring, and most importantly blessedly low maintenance due to the nature of her workplace environment sequestering her from the attentions of men.  The best ones teach 1st through 5th grades.  Women who supervise daycare are too toddler-focused and will love the kids more than you.  You will soon tire of her coo-ing at every baby you both pass by.  High school teachers are too stressed out from their job to properly service your manly needs at home.  Don’t bother with college professors unless you think foreplay is listening to an earful of pomo feminist shrillness.
Bonus:  teachers don’t make much money so your financial status will always be higher, guaranteeing a long and healthy relationship.
Sexual Satisfaction Rating:  3/4th erection
Long Term Potential Rating:  hope diamond (she’s not gonna have much opportunity to cheat at work)

It stands to reason that jobs which require a lot of testosterone and assertiveness to succeed in also attract the sluttiest girls. Testosterone is a leading precursor to infidelity. The slutty lawyer cunt with the overgrown clit is no figment of the imagination. She is real, and she is on the prowl. Jobs which surround women with a lot of men, and thus opportunities to cheat, are also a red flag for any beta hubby suspicious of his kid’s paternity. If wifey is a lawyer in an office that is 90% male, the odds she hasn’t taken a ride on the cock carousel are very low.

As an aside, I don’t particularly trust social surveys delving into the sexual habits of Americans because, well, people lie about their sex lives more than any other subject. On the number of partners, women lie down and men lie up. More relevantly, modern women have a skewed interpretation of what exactly constitutes sex. I can’t tell you how many girls have confessed to me that they don’t consider handjobs, blowjobs, or anal love as sex. This cultural definitional change, naturally, will skew social survey data about female sluttiness trends. The GSS does not capture this attitude shift.

Nonetheless, the data do give us a glimpse at sexual attitudes and behaviors. And what it shows is that the Chateau was well ahead of the curve in describing which kinds of women are the biggest sluts. This infamous post gave male readers information on how best to identify which girls are sluts. Female readers responded with a hail of indignation, for who can doubt that the ability to keep their slutty selves secret is a power most women loathe to relinquish, as important as it is subconsciously understood by women that high value men prefer to marry more rather than less chaste girls. The Chateau gates creaked open and permitted access to a dark labyrinth of the female psyche, and the demonesses howled at the light right on cue.

From all the above data, and from additional observations into the habits, behaviors, and phenotypes of slutty girls, we can now construct the perfect prototypical überslut:

She is —

A real estate agent, lawyer, or “creative artist”.

Nonreligious.

Has a high IQ.

Is an Ivy League graduate.

Is a business school or law school graduate.

Lives in the city.

Has a ring finger longer than her index finger.

Has a manjaw, a jutting chin, and/or furry forearms.

Is narcissistic, perfectionist, extroverted and just hot enough to have the option to cheat. (Big chins and manjaws necessitate against having this option.)

Is endlessly sarcastic.

Talks about sex a lot.

Has a lot of travel stories you suspect have key details left out.

Has one giant purple saguaro on her nightstand.

******

There you are, folks. A sexually aggressive, extroverted, narcissistic, high self-esteem, facially prominent, sarcastic, well-traveled, SWPL lifestyle living, overpriced downtown condo owning, atheistic, smart lawyer cunt is your best bet for easy, no muss no fuss sex and your worst bet for marriage. Don’t bother buying this girl flowers; you won’t need to. Staying faithful to such a woman in hopes it will encourage her to uphold her end of the bargain is a sucker’s bet.

Here is what the typical female überslut might look like:

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Of Manjaws And Furry Forearms

Have a cuckold fetish for relationships with sluts who are likely to cheat? Want to get into relationships with sluts who are likely to put out quickly, and to fuck like the energizer bunny? Date women with big chins!

If you have not already chosen your new love, researchers suggest you stay away from those with big chins as they have a tendency to cheat. Researchers from four universities across the US and Canada prodded into the sexual habits of chinny and relatively chin-less females to determine these results.

Kidding? No, they’ve published in the journal Personality And Individual Differences, so it must be true. Larger chins, especially on adult females, are associated with the male growth hormone testosterone and too much of that bad boy can lead to messing around. It seems on an unconscientious level men sense this trend and are biased against a more masculine chin. […]

“The findings are important in demonstrating that perceptions of women as desirable and trustworthy long-term mates can be reliably gleaned by men from viewing only the women’s facial features.

“Results suggest that information about women’s sexual unrestrictedness, which is related to their risk of infidelity, can potentially be conveyed by the masculinity of women’s faces.”

Hogwash you say? Perhaps you are already hooked up with said chin-cheater? Well, they may cheat, but you may also have found a sexual goldmine. Women (and perhaps men) with larger chins are also more sexually assertive and perhaps better in bed.

Yet again the science proves me right. Always ahead of the curve, I am. Over three years ago I wrote in this post about generalizing the sexual habits of women based on physical or behavioral traits:

Does she have lots of dark forearm hair?

Girls with this have more circulating testosterone.  They will be more likely to sleep with you by date 3.  Although forearm hair on a girl is unattractive, rejoice when you see it, because it means the moment of sexual congress is nigh.

Big chins, manjaws and dark forearm hair on women are all signs of exposure to high levels of testosterone. And women who have been thusly exposed like to fuck — hard, often, and usually with lots of different men. If you are doing a girl doggy style, and a thatch of thick ass crack hair is staring back at you, you can bet she’s exceeded the national female median of three lifetime sex partners. Have your fun, but don’t make the dumb mistake of marrying her. Or, really, spending any money on her, since she won’t require much male resource display before she’s willing to spread.

Thanks to the additional scientific evidence buttressing my personal observations, we can now add big chins and manjaws to the list of slut tells I outlined in my infamous post describing how easy it is to identify a slut. If you are an inexperienced younger man who wants to know if your girlfriend is marriage material, this blog will arm you with the knowledge you need.

To summarize:

Manjaws are more likely to:

• fuck on the first date
• fuck for hours in every room of the house
• cheat
• need a psychologically dominant boyfriend to keep her faithful.

Personally, as a normal man with normal tastes in women, I prefer feminine girls with dainty jaws and chins and soft flat bellies that aren’t ripped six packs. So Leno-chinned women of the world are not much concern to me, except insofar as their numbers in the general female population seem to be increasing of late, and thus causing the aggregate beauty in the world to shrink. As a lover of beauty, I consider this environmental destruction. Luckily, manjaws are less prevalent in younger women, so I will do my part to help the environment by casting out older women to the wastelands of solitary cougardom where their jutting mandibles can do no harm to anyone except 18 year old boys desperate to lose their virginity.

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Sexual Experience Is Overrated

For women, that is. Men can never have too much sexual experience.

The following conversation I had with Silverback in the City Zeets will explain why.

~~~

Zeets: I’m pretty sure she’s only been with one other guy her whole life.

Me: Is she a virgin?

Zeets: Not a virgin… technically. But emotionally she may as well be. She has almost no experience with men.

Me: Hard to believe there are women like her outside of rural areas still in existence.

Zeets: She’s a foreigner from [a less developed European country].

Me: Bingo.

Zeets: The first time, she didn’t know what she was doing. It’s like I was back in high school. I tried to maneuver for the kill shot, but she kept her legs shut tight. I had to physically pry them apart. As I’m inching in, she’s squeaking like a mouse. “Ow ow ow”, she’s saying. I’m like, “Uh, ok, you’ve gotta relax here, otherwise this isn’t going to work.”

Me: Then what?

Zeets: Then she’s telling me to close all the blinds and blow out the candles. She likes the room pitch black. I guess it was because she was uncomfortable with me seeing her naked body in the lights. She’s got the bedsheets pulled right up to her chin.

Me: But she has a nice body. Doesn’t she know that?

Zeets: I know, tell me about it, but remember this girl is like a teenager fumbling around in the back seat of a car. She’s self-conscious. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. Eventually, we did do it, but it wasn’t good. She was too uptight, barely moved at all, and the endless foreplay pooped me out.

Me: That was over a month ago. You’re still with her.

Zeets: Yeah, we’ve done it a few more times since then. I was worried that she might have a weird psychological hangup about sex… maybe a religious thing?… but then it started getting better. She listened to my instructions, and followed orders well. Sex got better. She really loosened up.

Me: She got comfortable with you.

Zeets: Now she’s presenting like a red-assed chimp. She is truly loving in bed, totally getting into it. Sex has gotten even better with her than with some other women who knew what they were doing on the first date. Still need to work on proper blowjob technique, though.

~~~

Sluts may know what they’re doing the first time without much prompting from you, but sexually inexperienced girls who have been allowed to blossom into full, exuberant womanhood under your caring tutelage and by your steady temperament are the true prize, the holy grail.

It is a myth that sexually inexperienced girls are sexually repressed girls. Some are, but most of them are simply choosier than their sluttier sisters. It is more fulfilling to have a girl release with you, than to have her come pre-released by a battalion of men before you.

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Relationship Limbo

Relationships generally follow the same trajectory, despite men and women having contradictory mating goals. The optimal trajectory for each sex differs as such:

For men:

– Meet
– If alpha, seduce. If beta, butter up.
– Sex
– If nothing in common, date for a few weeks
– If something in common, date for a few months
– If falling in love, date for a year
– If willfully ignorant, marry
– Divorce
– Start over, poorer but happily still in demand

For women:

– Be introduced through social circle
– If man alpha, relinquish. If man beta, puppeteer.
– If nothing in common, one date and done
– If something in common, date for a few weeks
– Sex
– If falling in love, dream of marriage
– If smart, marry
– Divorce
– Start over, richer but regrettably older

For every long term relationship, sometime between the six month to one year mark, the woman will angle to get you to marry her. Dumb women will attempt to accomplish this through the injudicious use of ultimatums. Devious women will apply the more sophisticated tools of a covert operation. But nearly all women will want marriage sooner rather than later, and their men will be left wondering why, if the relationship is going so well, such a superfluous notarization as marriage is necessary. Usually, the women win out, because most men are weak when confronting possible loss of reliable pussy access.

If you are a man who can face the marital abyss and not flinch, then at the one year mark you may be put into relationship limbo. This is what it implies — a relationship in a holding pattern with a woman who is slowly withdrawing her affection. She will go to bed without sexytime, make breakfast for herself instead of the both of you like she used to, start complaining that you hog the bed, happily recite a list of her friends who are getting hitched, ceaselessly mutter about your “incompatibility”, bitch that you don’t take the “initiative” (read: “propose”), and generally become a sourpuss around you. This is because women get very, VERY, pissed and bewildered when their prime directive (to get married) is thwarted.

Now, there is a catch. The problem for men is determining whether relegation to relationship limbo is the result of the girlfriend’s infidelity or her marriage denial blues. Unfortunately, the symptoms of either are remarkably similar. A woman who is cheating on you will withdraw sexually, stop being considerate, and bitch you out a lot. A woman who is worried and anxious that you have no intention of marrying her will lash out likewise. Your job, as a man, is to figure out which succubus has possessed her, for the solution to handling either demoness is quite different. A cheating woman will need more alpha from you. A despondent woman will need more signs of commitment from you.

Deciding which dark path she is on is no easy task. Women are evolutionarily optimized to be fantastic, nearly undetectable, liars of things both great and small. And what is the greatest lie of all than the lie to hide the pedigree of a man’s child from him so that he may raise it as his own? Women who were bad at lying about cuckoldry were quickly weeded from the population, either by violence, avoidance, or expulsion. And so Darwinian selection ensured that those women who successfully duped beta mates into raising alpha progeny would need be liars of an exemplary sort.

Thankfully, Darwinian selection also ensured that a humanitarian saint like me would come along one day to give you the tools to help you discover if your woman is a sneak cheat. Namely, if she’s branded with identifiable markings of sluttitude, she is more likely to be a future faithless whore.

If you have convinced yourself beyond a reasonable doubt that your girlfriend is not cheating on you, then you are left with finding a way out of relationship limbo. You could take the path of least resistance and propose marriage. But that is lopping off one’s left nut to spite one’s cock. For a woman who has proven capable of withdrawing affection from her man is a woman who can — and will — do it again, to get what she wants, wedding band or no.

Relationship limbo is a dangerous place to be for men. It can drive the male mind crazy with thoughts of abandonment, or worse. His mind swirls with the concoction of nightmares, and his confidence betrays him at the moment he needs it most. In order to defeat it, you must know yourself first. Do you eventually want to marry? Then decide if she is the one for you, and take the leap into or out of her arms. The purpose of limbo is to incite resentment in you, thus making it a simpler endeavor for the woman to conclude that you are worth leaving. If she is not the one you want to marry, prolonging your time in limbo will only feed your resentment, no matter how mastered your art of aloofness, until it boils over into a dramatic breakup.

If, like me, you fully grasp that marriage serves none of your interests, but you like the girl you are dating and want out of limbo, you have two choices. Either stoically accept that every relationship has an inborn lifecycle, and that marriage is simply a delay tactic to push the lifecycle beyond its natural limits, and allow her to leave to find the man who would give her what she wants. She has already poisoned the well, so what further benefit from the relationship can you realistically extract? Limbo more often than not delivers you to hell than to paradise.

Or, have her fall so deeply in love with you that she betrays her own female edict. A woman truly in love won’t be able to contemplate leaving you without pain shooting through her sternum. She may be sad at times that you haven’t proposed, but her sadness is short-lived as it surrenders continually to her joy.

A woman who has put you in limbo does not love you with abandon. She instead loves you like most women do; with an eye toward the pragmatic. She is attempting to manipulate you, consciously or not, to reach her own ends. A man has two noble goals in life — the pursuit of sexual pleasure, and the winning of a woman’s heart in toto. A man has not lived until a woman has loved him without proviso.

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The Most Obnoxious Woman In The World?

I wander the scorched wastelands of the human psyche, explore the depths of the musty ideologies hidden within, and drag them kicking and screaming to the oasis of cleansing truth so that you may be entertained from the comfort of your Barcalounger. My crusade over the past three years finding and eviscerating the hated enemies of beauty and truth has finally brought me face to face with perhaps the most execrable creature to stalk the consciousness of the Holy Hedonist Empire.

I hesitate to write this post because the horror you will find within is nearly beyond comprehension. I risk credibility if it turns out the entire article was a put-on, an act to stimulate an immunological response from a healthy psyche. I accept that risk, because the greater risk is in allowing a genuine abomination to go unridiculed.

From a Washington City Paper interview (hat tip: reader Mike), pay your shilling and enter the tent to feast your eyes upon Jaclyn Friedman, AKA “Fucking While Feminist”:

Jaclyn Friedman is, in short, a feminist rock star. She is the executive director of  WAM!: Women, Action & the Media. She edited the incredible Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape, and continues the work of dismantling rape culture in her weekly pro-sex column. She writes as compellingly about taking off her shirt for fun as she does her college sexual assault. And she has been fucking under these conditions for nearly 20 years.

What is the difference between sex with a pro-sex feminist and sex with a pro-sex normal woman? Earplugs.

Fucking while feminist presents a peculiar set of challenges for the pro-sex single. How do you talk rape culture on a first date while still managing to get laid once in a while? How do you find the feminist guy who won’t self-flagellate to the point of unfuckability? How do you avoid dying alone, basically?

I’ll answer those questions for the City Paper interviewer.

“How do you talk rape culture on a first date while still managing to get laid once in a while?”

You don’t if you want to date men who aren’t afraid of their own penises.

“How do you find the feminist guy who won’t self-flagellate to the point of unfuckability?”

Such a man doesn’t exist. If he does, he is lying to you. Or gay.

“How do you avoid dying alone, basically?”

Cat cryogenics.

J[aclyn] F[riedman]: The way I hope it will work is that they ask these initial questions [about my rape culture books] before we meet in person. So then they can go offline and collect their thoughts and then respond to me. My profile says I’m a feminist. So a lot of people who would be really scared off by me, we don’t get very far. When the whole Polanski thing was going down, I had this big argument with a guy about Polanski. First date. And last one.

No surprise there. Though I can only read her words, I can vicariously hear her grating voice plucking out my ear hairs one by one, slowly to maximize the pain. Could you imagine going on a date with this shrike? She’s already arguing with you before the first round is ordered. If I get into *one* big argument with a chick within the first three months of dating her, I seriously consider dumping her. But a big argument on the first date is a giant red flag that proudly proclaims “Kneel before my mighty shit test, and pass or be emasculated by the swinging of my serrated clit dick!” Some shit tests are not worth passing. Sometimes it’s just an ugly, gnarled soul staring daggers of challenge at you from across the table.

Do you have any feminist litmus tests?

JF: I would like for there to be a set of feminist litmus tests that I could reference and use to find the right guy. Right now, I feel like I’m in an endless cycle of asking myself, “Am I willing to let this slide?” I’m mostly dating guys right now, which is fairly new for me. From my early 20s to my mid-30s I dated exclusively women and trans men.

Ah, so she’s in her late 30s or 40s now. That would explain the sudden biological urge to merge with sperm-manufacturing normal men. Experimentation is all fun and games until your subjects stop finding you a worthwhile lay.

I’m not romanticizing that, like “it’s so much easier with women”—let me tell you, it’s not. But it’s a different set of questions you have to ask. I don’t feel like I can go in to these dates expecting dudes to know as much about feminism or sexuality studies or rape culture [i.e., lies], the stuff that I live my life talking about and thinking about. I feel like I’m going to die alone if I do that.

Will your slavish adherence to your comforting lies have been worth it?

Here is what’s depressing about dating while feminist. Feminism is what I do with my life, it’s how I spend my days, it’s my job, it’s not just an opinion I have among many other opinions.

The most dogmatic ideologues are always running on the righteous fury of their opinions. They have to, because one stop to take a breath could mean the entire edifice of lies crumbles down on them from forward momentum. They secretly suspect, late at night when the terrifying silence leaves them alone with their innermost thoughts, that everything they believe is a lie. And so they shout hate and fear at the heart of the world. Imagine waking up one day to realize your entire life was a farce? And a deadly farce at that; one which withheld from you some of the greatest joys of life.

If I had a hardcore litmus test, the pool of men I could date would be so tiny.

I’ve got news for you, my cougar child. It’s getting tiny regardless of any litmus test you might impose. Which, ironically, will cause you to impose ever stricter litmus tests. The bruised ego drinks deeply from the chalice of the sour grapewine.

And then when you weeded out men who are gay, the men I don’t find attractive, the men already in monogamous, committed relationships—really, I would never get laid again. So I do feel that I have to try to be flexible out of necessity.

Older women either stiffen into celibacy or become Yogic masters of dating flexibility. As “Feminist While Fucking” seems to possess a man’s libido, she has opted to accept the dreary fact that her waning sexual market value places constraints on what she can, and can no longer, demand from the men she dates.

But if I were to end up with someone—and I do want a long-term, stable relationship with someone at some point—they would have to be feminist on some basic level. They would have to be.

Hey, betas, guess what! You now have your shot at tasting the curdled nectar of an aging radical feminist who has spent her prime years servicing a battalion of men, women, and transsexuals. All you need to do is nod in agreement when she discusses the finer points of the imaginary gender wage gap. Sound like a good deal? And turn off that sexbot when I’m talking to you.

Right now my basic litmus test is this: Is he interested in feminist issues when I bring them up?

Sure. I’ve noticed feminists are quicker to jump into bed than non-feminists.

And can he talk about them in ways that express curiosity and engagement and respect, instead of defensiveness or dismissiveness or attachment to stereotypes?

Feminists have hairy armpits and daddy issues.

If we can talk about this stuff in ways that are interesting and productive, I can work with it most of the time.

A good marriage will have a higher status husband and a better looking wife. Discuss.

[T]he only cisgender man I’ve been in a longterm relationship was a feminist when I met him. We would have feminism arguments where I was educated by him, and vice versa. And I thought, well, how lucky I am to have found a feminist guy! And he ended up being an ass . . . in somewhat unrelated ways.

Disturbed hardcore feminists are attracted to assholes, too. Red alert on Drudge.

Is there anything that men can mention in their dating profiles that tips you off to feminist compatibility?

JF: Well, this is my test: When I look at personal ads, I look at their lists of favorite books, movies, and music, and they have to list women in all of those categories.

Ok, here goes.

Favorite books: Anything by Stephenie Meyer

Favorite movies: Anything by Leni Riefenstahl

Favorite music: T.A.T.U.

Heh.

I also don’t respond to any guy who says they’re looking for a woman who “doesn’t have drama,” not because I have a lot of drama, but because I feel like that is code for women who have opinions.

This is super double secret code for “I will blab endlessly about utter bullshit while you sit and listen with the patience of a saint”.

. . I also have a couple things in my profile that are screeners, that I’m hoping will turn off people I don’t want to be bothered by. I mention feminism. I say I’m a size 16. But I do it all in a flirty way, like, ’size 16 can be sexy,” not in a way that says, “I AM ALL THESE THINGS. DEAL WITH IT.”

Proud feminist, aging spinster, fatty. What’s not to love? Rhetorical.

PS: Size sixteen cannot be sexy. Saying so won’t change the fact that the vast majority of men, particularly desirable men who don’t need to lie to get sex, are repulsed by the rolls of blubber you refer to as “curves”.

So when you tell people that you’re a feminist, do they have assumptions about what the sex is going to be like?

JF: A couple of guys were shocked that I like to play various games in bed, because I’m a feminist. That’s always really interesting to me. I’m always like, ‘Are you kidding me? The feminists I know are the craziest women in bed you can find!”

There’s gotta be an iron law of the land that states the less desirable the woman, the kinkier she is in bed. Compensation in da houze!

So do you meet guys who pass the feminist test but then turn out to be disappointments for other reasons?

JF: Oh God. There is a type of feminist guy who is so eager to fall over himself to be deferential to women and to prove his feminist bona fides and flagellate himself in front of you, to the point that it really turns me off. And it makes me sad, because politically, these are the guys that I should be sleeping with! You know what I’m talking about?

Color me unsurprised that a woman’s gina tingle doesn’t oscillate to a man’s political beliefs.

They haven’t internalized their feminism, so it’s always being externalized. And it places a lot of pressure on the women they’re with. There’s this very self-conscious performance of feminism. And it does sometimes feel like they want a cookie. . . .  OK, I know this is such a delicate conversation to have, but I want those guys to wake up because those are the guys I want to want to sleep with!

You want to want to sleep with men but your abrasive, unfeminine personality attracts eunuchs. Clever eunuchs who tell you what you want to hear in hopes of getting in your XL pants, but eunuchs nonetheless.

I sort of feel that I get cast in these dudes’ narratives as the Hellcat Dream Girl, there to prove how bad-ass they are because they’re dating such a bad-ass woman. They think it’s cute or sexy. But when I use that smart, outspoken bad-assery to challenge their own perspectives, it’s suddenly not sexy at all.

No shit it’s not sexy. What man worth his stones wants to spend time with a woman always pitched in heated battle against every perceived slight to her worldview? Especially when her perspective is a mountain of lies. Men get enough of that from other men. The point of women is that they aren’t men. But maybe we are entering an era of manjaws and art fags.

I feel like the same thing happened with the guy I dated for two years. He liked the idea of being a guy who would be with someone like me, but ultimately it turned out that he wanted someone who wouldn’t challenge him as much, a person who was easier and quicker to sweep away. I got evidence of that when, within three months of breaking up with me, he was dating a 23 year old who lists her political views on Facebook as “moderate.”

😆

I hope this field guide to Americanus afeminoxious was as unpleasant for you as it was for me. But really, there was nothing new here. Guests of the Chateau have all seen these creatures before, in special holding cells, their cries of torment under the lashings of my bulldykewhip striking a dulcet note on weary ears.

The more interesting question is what kind of man would so debase himself to willingly spend time in such a woman’s company? To suffer the tortures of the damned, his ears ringing with the demonic cacophony of femicunt war shrieks? To betray the last, good measure of his manly essence for a pittance of overripe pussy? What kind of man, indeed?

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Is College A Poon Nirvana?

Readers have sent me this New York Beta Times article about the skewed sex ratio on college campuses. It turns out there is widespread discrimination against men in favor of admitting women to higher institutions of learning. If I were a knee-jerk liberal, this would be my go-to explanation. Better yet, if I were a culturally cocooned fruitcup leftie elitist of the sort who would write for the NYBTimes, I might explain the dearth of male participation in higher learning this way:

Women on gender-imbalanced campuses are paying a social price for success and, to a degree, are being victimized by men precisely because they have outperformed them, Professor Campbell said. In this way, some colleges mirror retirement communities, where women often find that the reward for outliving their husbands is competing with other widows for the attentions of the few surviving bachelors.

Get that? Women are victimized by men for outperforming them in college admissions. I feel manipulated by this media spin. Somebody call tha police!

The article itself is interesting not for its trenchant analysis, but for the money quotes by some of the coeds [reminder: sexual prime, age: 18 – 21, BMI: 17 – 23].

Jayne Dallas, a senior studying advertising who was seated across the table, grumbled that the population of male undergraduates was even smaller when you looked at it as a dating pool. “Out of that 40 percent [of men on campus], there are maybe 20 percent that we would consider, and out of those 20, 10 have girlfriends, so all the girls are fighting over that other 10 percent,” she said.

I think Ms. Dallas fucked up her math. Or she is really picky. I presume she meant to say 50% of that 40% of men, but confused half of 40 (citing 20%) for half of 40% as a percentage. In fact, she seems to be all over the place confusing percentages with absolute numbers. You can’t expect much from an advertising major. On the other hand, if she really did mean that only 20% of the men on campus would interest her, then the imbalanced sex ratio seems to be doing nothing to curb the natural inborn phenomenon of Hottie Hypergamy. (Non-hottie hypergamy usually resolves itself in buckets of ice cream or soul-crushing strings of one night stands. Do note that a woman’s right to choose ice cream takes precedence over her right to choose a beta.)

The very next sentence by the article’s author is this:

Needless to say, this puts guys in a position to play the field, and tends to mean that even the ones willing to make a commitment come with storied romantic histories. Rachel Sasser, a senior history major at the table, said that before she and her boyfriend started dating, he had “hooked up with a least five of my friends in my sorority — that I know of.”

Hm. Not sure how Alex Williams segued so effortlessly from Jayne Dallas confessing that despite the imbalanced sex ratio she still only finds 20% of the men attractive to “this puts guys in a position to play the field”. Correction Mr. (or Ms.?) Williams: This puts ALPHA MALES in a position to play the field. Betas continue chafing themselves to relief.

Thanks to simple laws of supply and demand, it is often the women who must assert themselves romantically or be left alone on Valentine’s Day, staring down a George Clooney movie over a half-empty pizza box.

“I was talking to a friend at a bar, and this girl just came up out of nowhere, grabbed him by the wrist, spun him around and took him out to the dance floor and started grinding,” said Kelly Lynch, a junior at North Carolina, recalling a recent experience.

This article is useless without a proper analysis of the types of men on campus who are getting blatantly propositioned by women. But the NYBTimes won’t touch that with a ten foot schlong, because it might mean peeking behind the frilly lace at what exactly drives female mating choice. Let me start off the discussion by suggesting that the “10% of guys” who are the recipients of bumpandgrindage are pretty much the same 10% of guys on college campuses without an imbalanced sex ratio. Oh sure, maybe a few extra dudes luck out from a favorable sex ratio, but by and large female hypergamy is as rock solid unalterable as is male attraction to slender hourglass figures and youthful beauty. Which is why you’ll see a bigger increase in the number of voluntarily single women choosing to sit out the dating game when the odds are against them than you would see an increase in the number of hotties slumming it with betas who would normally repulse them. This is not to say the sex ratio has no impact. It does. Just not as much as most would believe. The sex ratio’s biggest impact is how it changes courtship behavior (more women dressing sluttily; more men acting like cads), but courtship behavior is not the same as fucking. The endgame is still “Who is she fucking?”, and by my take, a favorable sex ratio for men doesn’t much change the calculus of women seeking the 10-20% top dogs for fucking. As I’ve written before:

Maxim #101: For most women, five minutes of alpha is worth five years of beta.

Thanks to the sex ratio, a lot of these college chicks choose to share the cock of a worthy insperminator rather than settle for a beta, no matter how numerically scarce beta penii happens to be. They don’t much like sharing, but they like receiving the tepid seed of a milquetoast puffboy even less.

Naturally, all systems have a breaking point. I would bet that when the sex ratio becomes radically skewed — let’s say 80% women 20% men — you would start to see some strange female behavior. Cats laying down with dogs, women laying down with betas. It’s probably happened before in human prehistory. One evo theory suggests the reason for Euro women’s exemplary beauty stems from a time in the distant past when large numbers of eligible paleobachelors were killed off hunting big prey, leaving the remaining men to choose from among the hordes of lonely women. These men likely chose the hottest babes to pass on their genes, ushering forth the big-eyed neotenous era we have today. As with all good things in life, beauty, too, was born in a crucible of boiling blood. Thanks, God!

Indeed, there are a fair number of Mr. Lonelyhearts on campus. “Even though there’s this huge imbalance between the sexes, it still doesn’t change the fact of guys sitting around, bemoaning their single status,” said Patrick Hooper, a Georgia senior. “It’s the same as high school, but the women are even more enchanting and beautiful.”

Wait a sec. Six women for every four men and yet there remain men who can’t get laid? How could this be? *scratching head, looking skyward and sticking tongue out a little* Nope, I just can’t figure out why there are male students sitting around lonely and single. For those men attending college who think a favorable sex ratio will spare you the need to learn game, I hope you can see the folly of that thinking. At best, a good sex ratio simply means more betas getting taunted by slutty women flashing scads of skin to catch the attention of the few alphas in the room.

“It causes girls to overanalyze everything — text messages, sideways glances, conversations,” said Margaret Cheatham Williams, a junior at North Carolina. “Girls will sit there with their friends for 15 minutes trying to figure out what punctuation to use in a text message.”

Girls have always overanalyzed the laconic conversations of alpha males. The sex ratio doesn’t change that. All it does is make their overanalyzing of the same men tinged with frantic desperation. Sorry betas, your conversations don’t get overanalyzed by women. They get disappeared; sucked into a void of whitenoise. You know, kinda like how you don’t remember a single word a fat chick said to you.

I haven’t written much about sex ratios because I don’t find it to be all that pertinent to a man’s daily life and his odds with women. I’ve noted that on a microcosmic scale a very bad sex ratio can mean a shitty night at the bar fending off armies of Bob Evans, and perhaps on a macro scale a skewed sex ratio will affect a host of social indicators. But for the day to day gaming of chicks, sex ratio isn’t going to have much impact one way or the other, unless it is severe and prolonged. If I had to guess, I’d say a sex ratio that favors men — as we have on a lot of college campuses these days — would mean the following:

• Women acting sluttier.
• Fat women ostracized more than ever.
• Betas taunted by a flesh machine churning out display product they cannot buy.
• Alphas living like harem kings.
• Alphas in general acting more caddish. More drinking, fighting, fornicating, and video gaming.
• Betas in general withdrawing more from social life to seek the sympathetic embrace of their computers or like-minded losers in love.
• Dating replaced by fucking (“hooking up” in the current nomenclature).
• Blowjobs and anal sex increasingly accepted as virginity-sparing sex substitutes.
• Later marriages.
• And finally, a tired rationalization hamster punching in overtime. The female mind has never been so besotted with challenges to her anti-slut barricade!

Bottom line: If you are an alpha male, this is a great time to be a student at State U. If you are a beta male, life sucks as usual. If you are an alpha female, things just got tougher. If you are a beta female, you have a glorious career in HR and a schnerdling husband to look forward to in between bed-pounding nights and tearful morning-afters with the sexily oblivious men who would forever haunt your memories and your heart.

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Meet The Real Biggest Losers

Cuckolded men. A lot of readers emailed me this New York Beta Times story about the State of Paternity in America today. Before reading, you should grab your Pepto Bismol, because your stomach is going to turn. Get ready to descend into the hell matrix of the unwitting beta male raising another man’s child, where torments beyond your most chilling nightmares await.

The revelation from a DNA test was devastating and prompted him to leave his wife — but he had not renounced their child. He continued to feel that in all the ways that mattered, she was still his daughter, and he faithfully paid her child support. It was only when he learned that his ex-wife was about to marry the man who she said actually was the girl’s biological father that Mike flipped. Supporting another man’s child suddenly became unbearable.Two years after filing the suit that sought to end his paternal rights, Mike is still irate about the fix he’s in. “I pay child support to a biologically intact family,” Mike told me, his voice cracking with incredulity. “A father and mother, married, who live with their own child. And I pay support for that child. How ridiculous is that?”

Ridiculous is one way to put it. Evil is another.

Tanner Pruitt, who owns a small manufacturing business in Texas, paid child support for seven years after divorcing his wife. His daughter never looked like him, but it wasn’t until she was 12 that it began to bother him. He told the girl he wanted to check something in her mouth, quickly swabbed some cheek cells and sent the samples off to a lab. After the DNA test showed they weren’t related, he contacted a lawyer, figuring the lab results would release him from child-support payments and justify reimbursement from the biological father. But the lawyer told Pruitt his only option was to take the matter to court and that doing so might mean giving up his right to see the girl at all. It might also alert her to the truth. Pruitt didn’t want to chance either possibility, so he stayed silent and kept paying.“I spent thousands and thousands of dollars, and it hasn’t cost that biological father a penny, and yeah, I’m angry, but it would have been more harm to her psychologically than it was worth,” says Pruitt, who eventually fought for, and won, full custody.

This is why I support mandatory paternity testing (MPT) at birth. MPT would completely negate the risk of having to choose between loyalty to a child to whom the father has already bonded, and walking away to leave the child to the whore mother to raise. It’s a simple procedure that would intrude on no one’s rights or emotional well-being, similar to how the state requires driver’s tests for people who want the privilege of driving. By making it mandatory, all issues of trust are rendered moot. If it’s discovered the child isn’t his, the father is legally absolved of any further paternal or marital obligations, and is welcome to exit the marriage without having to pay one red cent to the bitch.

Any woman who even utters a peep against MPT has shown her cards. She is a filthy wretched cuntrag who wishes the system to be rigged in her favor — morality, fairness, and justice be damned. (hi anony!)

Some may question whether MPT is good for society, inasmuch as it dysgenically removes the option for women to carry the species forward by duping betas into raising and propagating alpha genes. This concern rests on a key assumption — that cheating women are making the eugenically correct choice. My suspicion, based on what I’ve heard about unfaithful whores, is that they are not. They are, instead, fucking around with assorted badboys.

Mike’s first inkling that something was amiss in his marriage was in 2000, when he was digging through a closet looking for the source of some mice. He didn’t find any nests, but he did come upon a plastic grocery bag of love letters to his wife, Stephanie, from her co-worker Rob. Confronted, Stephanie confessed to a fleeting affair but assured Mike that L., then nearly 3, was his.

If you recorded the answers of one million cheating whores at the moment when their doubting husbands questioned them about the paternity of their kids, only one woman would tell the truth to the man she married “till death do us part”. The other 999,999 women would lie. This is the juggernaut of female depravity you are up against, men. Never forget that.

CARNELL SMITH, an engineer-turned-lobbyist in Georgia, is the leading advocate for men like Mike. In 2001, after Smith’s own paternity struggle, he formed U.S. Citizens Against Paternity Fraud, to help the men he calls “duped dads.” In his most notable success, Smith persuaded Georgia lawmakers to rescind nonbiological fathers’ financial obligations, no matter the child’s age or how close the relationship. Smith then became the first man to disestablish paternity under that law.

Carnell Smith is a goddamned American hero. Step up to the Chateau gates, Carnell, you have more than earned your place at the table among the “King of the Alphas” greats.

With the scientific proof in hand, men like Carnell Smith began fighting back. A few months after Smith split up with his girlfriend in 1988, she announced she was pregnant with his child. Believing her, he signed a paternity acknowledgment for their daughter, Chandria.

Maxim #666: When a woman has incentive to lie, she will choose lying over honesty EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Corollary to Maxim #666: Treat woman like Soviet Russia — Trust but verify.

He obtained joint custody, paid her support and spent virtually every weekend with his little girl. When Chandria was 11, her mother sued to increase support. Smith decided to be tested, and the results excluded him as the father. In a lawsuit, Smith demanded Chandria’s mother pay back the $40,000 he had laid out in what he calls “involuntary servitude” and fraud. The court ruled against Smith, concluding that he had known that his former girlfriend had other partners at the end of their relationship and should have realized he might not be the father. By not exercising his “due diligence” and getting a DNA test early on, the court put the burden on Smith for not unearthing the truth sooner.

Did you get that? The court basically said to Smith “Hey, your fault for believing your girlfriend’s lies. What did you expect? She’s a woman. Women lie! So keep paying, bitchboy.”

If you are an American male, know this: Your women aren’t on your side. Your government isn’t on your side. Your law isn’t on your side. Your culture isn’t on your side. You are expendable. Your use is as cannon fodder for pointless wars, cannon fathers for bastard children, and cannon dollars for whoring sluts.

Would you die for this country that so despises you? Would you care if women who aren’t related to you or fucking you got raped? Would you care if *any* woman got raped? Orwell had it half right — a boot stamping on a beta face and high heels grinding into a beta crotch – forever.

Chandria now attends college in Georgia. She has seen Carnell Smith on the local news and on the Internet and cannot reconcile the man who seems to her so insensitive with the father she knew: attentive, seemingly proud of their relationship and eager to spend time with her. “He was what a father was supposed to be,” she says, “but when things changed, he completely disconnected. That’s just not fair. You’ve been in my life my entire life and for you to just cut that off for money, well, that’s not fair to anybody.”

Carnell Smith, if I ever meet you, beer’s on me. And I don’t buy beers for just anyone.

Chandria, if you think it’s not fair, you have but one person to point your accusing finger at — your whore mother.

For the rest of you rationalizers who think that Chandria’s bitter tears prove that rectifying paternity fraud should take a back seat to the welfare of the child, kindly redirect your effrontery at the perp who deserves it — the cheating woman. If the child suffers, the unfaithful mother should have thought of that before spreading for the thug du jour.

Child-welfare advocates say that making biology the sole determinant of paternity in cases like Smith’s puts the nonbiological father’s interest above the child’s.

You don’t say! And all this time I thought eighteen years of financial and psychological enslavement was in the nonbiological father’s interest.

Besides, society has increasingly recognized that parenthood is not necessarily bound to genetics.

Society is an ass.

“Having been involved in cases like these, I think the answer to ‘Is it my kid?’ is irrationally important to the cuckolded husband,” says Carol McCarthy, an officer of the Pennsylvania chapter of the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. “My own biases are going into this because I’m adopted, so I’m real into ‘your parents are the people who raise you.’ I couldn’t care less who my biological parents are. My parents are the ones who went through all the crap I gave them growing up.”

And people wonder why I have so much hatred in my heart for sophistic bitch lawyers. (hi al!)

Let’s rephrase Mizz Carol McCarthy’s quote for clarity:

“Having been involved in cases like these, I think the answer to ‘Is it my kid?’ is irrationally important to the falsely impregnated wife,” says Carol McCarthy, an officer of the Pennsylvania chapter of the American Academy of Patrimonial Lawyers. “My own biases are going into this because my mother who unknowingly had another woman’s fertilized egg implanted in her womb went through with the pregnancy, so I’m real into ‘your parents are the people who raise you.’ I couldn’t care less who my biological parents are. My parents are the ones who went through all the crap I gave them growing up.”

There, that should uncloud Mizz McCarthy’s mind. PS Please put your head under a rolling bus.

WHY IS IT THAT we imbue genetic relationships with a potency that borders on magic?

It’s funny when smart people ask these kinds of questions as if they don’t already know the answer. It’s as if in the asking they absolve themselves of the guilt they feel for following the same amoral code that is followed by the proles and untouchables to whom they feel superior.

It doesn’t need to be answered, but I’ll answer it anyway, coyly: The reason we humans have evolved to be capable of wondering why we imbue genetic relationships with potency is because genetic relationships have potency.

Three and a half years earlier, at a federally convened symposium on the increase in paternity questions, a roomful of child-welfare researchers, legal experts, academics and government administrators agreed that much pain could be avoided if paternity was accurately established in a baby’s first days. Several suggested that DNA paternity tests should be routine at birth, or at least before every paternity acknowledgment is signed and every default order entered. In 2001 the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court urged the state to require that putative fathers submit to genetic testing before signing a paternity-acknowledgment form or child-support agreement, arguing that “to do otherwise places at risk the well-being of children.”

In other words, the same care that hospitals take ensuring that the right mother is connected to the right newborn — footprints, matching ID bands, guarded nurseries, surveillance cameras — should be taken to verify that the right man is deemed father.

Good to see the CH worldview is being considered. It’s easy to be right when you hold firm to your conviction that the truth, no matter how dispiriting, is your guiding principle. For in the end, the truth always wins out —
one
way
or
the
other.

Mandatory DNA testing for everyone would be a radical, not to mention costly, shift in policy.

So was WWII. But we fought to the end. The bottom line is this: Either men have equal rights to women under the law, or they do not. As it stands right now, the courts are deciding in favor of men as being lesser citizens than women.

In other news, Barack Obama’s health care plan would ensure government coverage of mammograms for all women over the age of 40. No word on coverage for men’s prostate exams.

“I got a picture in my head,” L. [the bastard daughter] said, “that the test people would call and say they had been wrong, that he really was my biological dad and that everything I had thought before never really happened.”

Fury and unconsolable sadness
she anguishes
pain is her fate
blame needing to be cast
she searches haphazardly
when her demon
stands right before her
hi mom.

Think of the worst things women can do to men. Draw up a list. I’ll start:

Flirt with other men in front of him.
Steal from him.
Cheat on him.
Give him an STD.
Entrap him with pregnancy.
Withhold sex for favors.
Prick holes in his condoms.
Dick sandwich.
Get fat.
Disrespect his privacy and gossip about him.
Falsely accuse him of rape.
Use the rigged divorce courts against him.
Cut him off from his children.
Cuckhold him.

Of all these monstrous expressions of the female id, one rises above the rest in sheer malevolence — the act of cuckolding. Nothing else, save perhaps a successfully prosecuted false rape accusation, comes close in distilled essence of ovarian evil. Cuckoldry is slavery. It is metadeath. It is soul murder. It is the motherfucker of all lies. As men, we are beholden to guard against it by any means necessary. Today, in 2009 America, that means refusing to participate in the corrupted institution of marriage and hiding your assets overseas.

Here are the faces of society’s ultimate losers:

If beta has a “look”, these men have it.

Carnell Smith is the man in the third photo. He is a genuine American hero; a warrior fighting the long hard battle for our benefit. Send him a note of appreciation and support. A nation is saved one righteous man at a time.

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