Equality Ruins Sex

Here’s a simple formula:

Economically empowered women + empathetic men = loss of female sex drive.

Who’da thunk it!

Well, apparently not feminists, because the latest slew of research is sure to give them a crusty old vagina hemorrhage.

Using the internet, neuroscientists Ogi Ogas and Sai Gaddam analysed half a billion sexual fantasies, preferences and practices, then correlated their findings with animal behaviour studies and the latest findings in neuroscience, to come to the very non-PC conclusion that when it comes to sex, women are wired to find sexual submission arousing.

And that gender equality, far from liberating women sexually, actually inhibits desire.

This is not news to anyone who reads this blog. This research supports a critical CH maxim:

Maxim #15: Female cultural equality = male dating inequality. Female cultural inequality = male dating equality. You cannot have both by the laws of human nature.

When women make as much or more money than men, when they have equally prestigious jobs and an army of assistants, they will find that the pool of sexually desirable men dries up, and the inevitably lowered status men who are available to them are perceived as veritably castrated. Male dating inequality results, where more and more men are deemed unworthy mate prospects while the few men who still wield high status over the majority of women find their prospects enlarged.

A choice quote by a classic lawyercunt from the above article:

Corporate lawyer Amy, 38, goes to work in killer heels and a pencil skirt, commands a mega-salary and has a team of assistants at her beck and call.

‘At work, I’m always the one in control and I admit that I like it that way. It’s exciting and it’s sexy being an Alpha woman,’ she says.

But when it comes to her partner Max, who is also a lawyer, albeit with a less high-profile job, she often finds herself feeling confused about who calls the shots — especially when it comes to sex.

‘When I get home, I no longer want to be the power broker, the one who’s always in charge and in control. I need to be wooed and seduced, and to feel that Max has power over me,’ she says.

‘Sometimes he fulfils the role, but sometimes he doesn’t and I feel disappointed. It does make me wonder why I’m reluctant to take the initiative in bed when I’m confident and in charge at work.’

Women are hardwired to prefer submission to a strong man, and the stronger the man, the more abject her surrender. See: Story of O. Women BEG for you to exert your power over them. A woman craves it like you crave stuffing her holes full of love.

Luckily for men in this epoch of economic contraction and anti-male bigotry, game will allow them to bypass the female algorithm to screen for high status men by giving women the SUBMISSION TO POWER that they so desperately need without men having to rely on any societally conventional status metrics. And women will love them for it.

For the haters and doubters who latch onto the whiny cry Fake! every time this rule of game is rubbed in their faces, ask yourself a simple question. Would Amy, the corporate lawyercunt in the story, feel

a. more turned on, or

b. just as turned off as before

if her lower rung lawyer lover started gaming her using the principles espoused on sites like this one?

Rhetorical. We all know the answer to that. She would love every last second of it, and her nag-to-blowjob ratio would quickly reverse.

Feminism, to put it as bluntly as these two do, is bad for sex, and is the prime reason why increasing numbers of women are seeking help for problems associated with low libido.

Ironically, while feminism has opened the pussy floodgates for alpha males, enabling them to have their fill of noncommittal sex, the uptight little ideology has simultaneously ruined the libidos of women by, in turns, masculinizing women and emasculating men. You just can’t fuck with the primal forces of nature and expect no blowback.

According to Ogas and Gaddam, we can learn some important lessons about female sexual behaviour from observing rats in the laboratory.

They insist that if you put a male and female rat in close proximity to one another, the female will start to come on to the male, performing actions associated with sexual interest — running and then stopping to encourage the male to chase her.

But after a bit of kiss-chase, the female rat stands still, adopting a submissive stance until the male takes action. They also claim that almost every quality of dominant males — from the way they smell to the way they walk and their deep voice — triggers arousal in the female brain, while ‘weaker’ men, who are not taller, have higher voices or lower incomes, excite us less.

What they seem to be suggesting is that the cavemen were right all along and that what women really want is to be dragged by the hair, all the while feigning reluctance, by macho men waving clubs.

Maxim #2: All successful seductions are adversarial in nature.

Even female rats exhibit the same tendencies that human females do: the love of being chased, the anticipatory flirting, the insufferable but charming coyness, the anti-slut defensive posturing, the desire to submit to a dominant male, with ass perched high in the air, undulating in expectation.

When I put this proposition to my friend Katie, 42, who runs a successful event planning business and is married to Geoff (who gave up a job with the police force that he hated and is doing a stint as house-husband, looking after their sons, aged three and six), she blushed with embarrassment.

‘It seems so disloyal to admit this because Geoff is so lovely in every way. He’s brilliant with the children, he does all the shopping and cooking, but the truth is I’m just not turned on any more,’ she says.

‘He knows how tired I am at the end of the day, and though he’s just being considerate, instead of asking me if I’m in the mood for sex, I long for him to be a bit masterful and say: “I want you. And I want you now.”

‘On the few occasions when we do make love, the only way I can get excited is by having a lurid fantasy about being taken by force by a man in uniform.’

I think we can declare, with this vaj-smash CH post, that on the date of 18-8-2011, feminism died. May the gruesome corpse shortly rot into spinsterly decrepitude and spare us all the spectacle of watching me do the Snoopy happy dance and gloating “I told you so!”

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Chase, Interrupted

My slim cut extra medium T-shirt felt sloppy on me, sitting across the table from his dark blue suit. A blood red tie slashed his white shirt down the middle, and he caressed the lip of his glass of whiskey with a manicured index finger that hasn’t seen manual labor since high school.

“You sound like you’re ready to call it quits,” he mused.

“Well, now I wouldn’t go that far.”

“How long you been together?”

I stuttered on the number. “Hm… nine months, year. Somewhere around there.”

“That’s love.”

“Yeah, she’s all right.”

He took a slow sip and eyed through the back of his glass a young blonde with an aggressively arched torso sitting at the bar. “Marriage?”

“Ha. Funny. I’m just enjoying it in its pristine condition at the moment. What about you? Any slowing down?”

“I didn’t know this was a race.”

“You know what I mean. How much longer can you play the field?”

“How much longer can you go on breathing? You see the absurdity in your question.” He flicked a mosquito off his arm sleeve. The rooftop was buzzing with liquored career girls and blues music trapped in humidity.

I exhaled words through my lips, “I admit there are times… a lot of times… when I miss the chase.”

“You can still have that.”

“No, not really. Technically, you can. But in reality the feeling is never the same.”

He leaned forward and crinkled his brow. “How so?”

“There’s no freedom in cheating. At least, not the sort of freedom that makes your brain feel like it’s on helium. Cheating is exciting, but no matter how you compartmentalize it, you’ll always have to deal with that tiny pang of guilt.”

“Sure, but it’s worth it when you consider the alternative.” He shivered from an invisible north wind. “Monogamy.”

“There’s more to it than guilt, which was never much of a disincentive for me, anyway. When you know you always have that fallback lover, that girl who will be there at home, waiting for you, the victories taste less sweet. Where’s the challenge? A well executed seduction as a free man is a very different experience than one as a taken man. Failure means more when you’re single, and so success means more as well.”

“Beautiful words. But your virtue won’t last. You’ll be back. I know you.”

He pressed forward over the table once again, and for the first time that night his tie went askew.

I studied my mischievous friend waiting for me to invite him to speak. “What?”

“You remember Adele? That girl you took back to her place from this very bar… twice… for one night stands?”

“Adele. Yeah,” I reflected.

“She had a nice place, didn’t she? Big bay window in her bedroom. You were about to fuck her, condomless, in the deep of the night, and right before penetration you looked down and admired her thatch of honey blonde pubic hair. Shards of streetlamp light shone through the window and illuminated her pubes. Her tuft glittered, you said. You were surprised that her rug was as brightly blonde as her hair.”

“All natural, too. She was a Vikingess.”

“Mmm, hm. The optical geometry of that night is scorched forever on your retinas. In old age, you’ll forget everything but moments like that. You’ll forget your kids’ names but you’ll recall with perfect clarity the night of that dance of streetlight, bed, and pubes. And the others like it.”

“I know where you’re going with this.”

His lip curled. “Do you?”

“She had a boyfriend. Which I found out about later. I met him, briefly. Shook his hand and everything just to make her uncomfortable. She didn’t know if I was crazy enough to mention our tryst. Of course, I didn’t. But I loved that spectacle. It’s not often one gets a chance to smother a woman so thoroughly with her clandestine evil.”

“Yes, there was that, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh?”

“What does it feel like, knowing that should you follow your goodness to its conclusion, you will never again enjoy the discovery of new pubic canopies? To forever shutter the windows on that bay window of your adventurer’s soul?”

“Poetic. But I love the pubes of the girl I’m with now.”

“One pube color, until you die.” With that, he and his sharp dark suit rose and glided to the bar blonde with the bitchy back. I could overhear their conversation.

You have excellent posture. Very masculine. I don’t think I’ve seen marine sergeants sit as ramrod straight as you.
Thanks. I try not to slouch.
Posture like that could be intimidating to some men. Let me guess, you love the power rush.
Doesn’t seem to be a problem for you.
I’m quaking in my boots.

I finished my drink and watched a cocktail napkin slide from one hand to another. Old-fashioned and personal. That was his style.

At home, a scribbled note greeted me on the coffee table. “I bought you OJ. Feel better!”

I fumbled around my jeans pocket, found what I was looking for, and sent a text.

interesting… meeting you, general sherman. I might call you.

I burned the tattered tissue paper in my hand with a lighter and mixed myself a screwdriver. My thumb hovered over the delete button.

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Are Short Women More Desirable Than Tall Women?

In particular, are short women more desirable as girlfriends? Note I used the word desirable, and not “attractive”, which bears an important distinction. Female desirability encompasses more than physical attraction, such as femininity, selflessness, loyalty and temperament. There is evidence that short women are more feminine than tall women because estrogen levels, which inhibit bone growth, are higher in them.

traditional girl writes:

High levels of estrogen halt bone growth. Have you ever noticed that shorter, more finely boned women are (on average) kinder, less competitive, and more feminine? Tall, muscular women with sturdy skeletons and jaws are more likely to have low levels of estrogen and high levels of testosterone.

An article referencing the bone-growth-halting properties of estrogen: http://articles.latimes.com/2007/jan/15/health/he-staturegirls15

In any case, it seems to me that in our ancestral environment, a woman’s kindness, sexual loyalty, cooperative spirit and fertility would have been more important to her mate than her physical strength. She would have been too busy with pregnancies and infants to slaughter a bear.

As an aside, as a heterosexual women, I greatly prefer small-boned, large-breasted women for friendship. They’re more likely to be loyal, sweet, and share my values. I try to avoid tall, large-jawed, small-breasted women. I always get the “I want to screw around, break up relationships and eat babies” vibe from them.

Men are attracted to a woman’s looks first and foremost, but after a while — a few weeks to a few months — a woman’s other assets become important to men, especially men seeking long term relationships. Is she sweet and affectionate? Does she like to cook him dinner? Is she nurturing and does she coo over other women’s babies? Is she an animal lover? Does she prefer to avoid getting into arguments? Does she frequently cede decisions to her man? Does she shy from logic and debate? Is she quick to tear up during sad movies?

Most men, their curmudgeonly ribbing to the contrary notwithstanding, really do love these attributes of the feminine woman. Yes, we may complain about a woman’s runaway emotions, her focus on seemingly trite household matters, or her bleeding heart worldview, but we love them for it. The alternative — dating a woman with a man-like personality, ambition and outlook, however sexy she may be — leaves us feeling like we’re dating an alien impostor, and our instinct to protect and provide for an intrinsically vulnerable lover is muted with such masculine-essenced women.

Looking back on the women in my life, I think there is something to this. The shorter women have been, with few exceptions, more feminine and sweet-natured than the taller women I have dated. (And also more full of charming neuroses.) The short girls were the ones begging me to return to bed after sex so they could get their cuddle fix, while the tall girls would jump out of bed first after getting their rocks off. Hey, if I have things to do, I don’t mind a girl occupying herself after sex, but in the big picture I greatly prefer — and I suspect most men do too — a woman who acts like a stereotypical woman in and out of the bedroom. Unfortunately, women like this are running out in the West.

So maybe estrogen explains why everyone isn’t over six feet tall. Men of all heights are drawn to the feminine allure of shorter women with higher levels of estrogen, and have families with them, rejuvenating the next generation with shorter descendants. Perhaps men also choose these shorter women for family formation subconsciously knowing that they are less of a cuckolding risk than masculinized tall women.

Not that tall women don’t have their advantages. You’ve gotta love those long legs wrapped around you, for one. And if you’re a tall man you don’t have to prop up a tall woman’s behind for easier doggy-style access. Plus, tall women make for more striking arm candy as long as they meet a minimum beauty threshold. It’s just too easy for a hot short girl, sexy though she may be, to get lost in the crowd.

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Marilyn Monroe Was Skinny

I really love these posts that rip feminist mythology to shreds (a fun and easy sport even the kids will love!). You can just imagine their porky forehead veins throbbing with rage as they read the following article by Virginia Postrel:

We should never again hear anyone declare that Marilyn Monroe was a size 12, a size 14 or any other stand-in for full-figured, zaftig or plump. Fifteen thousand people have now seen dramatic evidence to the contrary. Monroe was, in fact, teeny-tiny.

The 15,000 were the visitors who turned out over eight days to oooh and aaah at the preview exhibit for the June 18 auction of Debbie Reynolds’s extraordinary collection of Hollywood costumes, props and other memorabilia.

The two comments heard most often in the crowded galleries were (to paraphrase), “Wow, they were thin” and “It’s such a shame. These things should be in a museum.” […]

The auction’s top-ticket item was Monroe’s famous white halter dress from “The Seven Year Itch,” the one that billowed up as the subway passed. It sold for almost $5.66 million (including the buyer’s premium) to an unknown phone bidder. Sharing a rotating mirrored platform with Hedy Lamarr’s peacock gown from “Samson and Delilah” and Kim Novak’s rhinestone- fringed show dress from “Jeanne Eagels,” Monroe’s costume was displayed on a mannequin that had been carved down from a standard size 2 to accommodate the tiny waist. Even then, the zipper could not entirely close.

But that’s just one dress. Perhaps the star was having a skinny day. To check, you could look across the room and see that Monroe’s red-sequined show dress from “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” was at least as petite, as were the saloon costume from “River of No Return” and the tropical “Heat Wave” outfit from “There’s No Business Like Show Business.

In fact, the average waist measurement of the four Monroe dresses was a mere 22 inches, according to Lisa Urban, the Hollywood consultant who dressed the mannequins and took measurements for me. Even Monroe’s bust was a modest 34 inches.

That’s not an anecdote. That’s data.

The other actresses’ costumes provided further context. “It’s like half a person,” marveled a visitor at the sight of Claudette Colbert’s gold-lame “Cleopatra” gown (waist 18 inches). “That waist is the size of my thigh,” said a tall, slim man, looking at Carole Lombard’s dress from “No Man of Her Own” (a slight exaggeration — it was 21 inches). Approaching Katharine Hepburn’s “Mary of Scotland” costumes, a plump woman declared with a mixture of envy and disgust, “Another skinny one.”

The pattern she noticed was real. At my request, Urban took waist measurements on garments worn by 16 different stars, from Mary Pickford in 1929 (20 inches) to Barbra Streisand in 1969 (24 inches). The thickest waist she found was Mae West’s 26 inches in “Myra Breckinridge,” when the actress was 77 years old.

The average waist size of American women in 2011?: 34.5 inches.

The insistence by fatty fat fatty apologists and the misfit motley crew of “cultural conditioning” feminists that Marilyn Monroe was a plump woman, a chubby chick, Rubenesque, zaftig, or, (my personal favorite), cuuuuuuurvy is nothing but the oinks of lying propagandists who want you to believe that men have since been somehow magically programmed by… who, exactly? Government agents? Hollywood? Frat boys? Stuxnet?… to prefer anorexic chicks over their true preference for supposed chubsters like Monroe.

For a long time this claim went unanswered; one, because no one bothered to fact check its self-evident PC truthiness, and two, because loudmouthed, ugly femcunts have cowed journalists and pundits into abject submission. But now the facts are in: Marilyn Monroe was a SLENDER BABE. There wasn’t a BBW bone in her skinny sexy body.

Women REALLY WERE thinner back in what the feminists call the bad old days. There wasn’t some fairytale fatopia in the 1950s when the men lusted for rotund mamas, and women were real women with curves and meat on the bones. Nope, women of the past were definitely thinner, and they were even thinner than what we would consider a thin girl today! That’s how warped our professed standards in female beauty have become. Men and women alike have drunk the feminist Koolaid, and coupled with the inability to avoid the sheer numbers of fat chicks rumbling over our frappuccino plains the result is a grudging, deflating acceptance that bigger, fatter, heftier women are here to stay, and baby you better believe they are HOT STUFF. A lot of men, seeing how few options they have when 9/10s of their prospects roll with a mushroom cloud top, are gonna revert to the one face-saving ploy in their arsenal: sour grapes.

“Hey man, I don’t want some anorexic bag of bones. Fat-bottomed girls make the rockin’ world go round. A whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more. Big girls you are beautiful!”

Nice try, JoeBob, but I know what you’re really thinking.

(Ever notice how gay male rockstars love to sing the praises of fat chicks? Wazzupwitdat?)

This is all part and parcel of a cultural plumping up of the American woman over the last half century to go along with her actual plumping up. Dress sizes have changed to accommodate the tender egos of the lardasses thundering around clothing stores now, so that, for example, what once was a size 10 dress is now a size 6 dress. What was considered a really fat chick in 1950 might’ve worn a size 15, but today the typical fat chick is so much fatter than her 1950s counterpart that she slips into the equivalent of a dainty size 38 number.

You can’t blame the retailers and clothing manufacturers, though. They just want to turn a profit, and if that means giving fatties an artificial high from being able to claim they wear a smaller size than they really do, then they’ll minimize dress sizes forever. If present trends are indicative of future results, a size 0 dress will soon be able to double as a mosquito net.

The fattening of American women is a goddamned fucking TRAGEDY. It robs the country of beautiful women, and thus robs American men of tactile sexual pleasure and aesthetic visual pleasure. A direct analogy would be if the nation’s men all decided to quit their jobs, shart on first dates, act like nervous dweebs and change diapers for a hobby. Yeah, don’t sound so hot, does it ladies? Now maybe you can grasp why every evangelical equalist effort to normalize expanding waistlines and rolling waves of blubber is a sin committed against beauty, and thus, against truth.

Game isn’t so much about being able to play the field in perpetuity as it is about navigating a shrinking dating pool of sexy slender chicks getting squeezed by an advancing army of fat chicks. It’s been written here before: as the expendable sex, men react to conditions in the sexual market; they don’t create those conditions. And right now conditions are Code Well-Fed, mothafuckaaaaaa.

PS I’d like to start a new advocacy group called the National Association for the Advancement of Half-Weight Women. God bless those half-weight women we’ve lost to the tidal wave of sugar and midnight snacking. Boners unite under the banner of Half-Weight Women! Raise your flag and smite the enemy Double-Weight Women! Smite them with a cupcake avalanche!

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Yet Another Study Validates Game

The effectiveness of kino — the act of casually (and calculatingly) touching a woman during a pickup to establish your sexual interest, to make her comfortable with the idea of sex with you, and to guide her away from putting you in the friend zone — is confirmed by a scientific study.

Previous research has shown that light tactile contact increases compliance to a wide variety of requests. However, the effect of touch on compliance to a courtship request has never been studied. In this paper, three experiments were conducted in a courtship context. In the first experiment, a young male confederate in a nightclub asked young women to dance with him during the period when slow songs were played. When formulating his request, the confederate touched (or not) the young woman on her forearm for 1 or 2 seconds. In the second experiment, a 20-year-old confederate approached a young woman in the street and asked her for her phone number. The request was again accompanied by a light touch (or not) on the young woman’s forearm. In both experiments, it was found that touch increased compliance to the man’s request. A replication of the second experiment accompanied with a survey administered to the female showed that high score of dominance was associated with tactile contact. The link between touch and the dominant position of the male was used to explain these results theoretically.

Kino and compliance are two integral parts of seduction.* There are plenty of posts in the Chateau archives covering these two important topics. If you are not touching a woman early on in a pickup, chances are you will fail to get her number, let alone a lay. Don’t listen to indignant feminists when they claim that men should keep their hands to themselves until they are invited to touch; the truth is, as it often is when feminists and their distorted beliefs are the subject, the complete opposite: men who touch early and without permission are the ones who win girls’ hearts.

Why do women respond so positively to kino from men, to the point of complying with the men’s requests for a slow dance or a phone number? The answer is in the survey results of the study: kino is associated with male dominance. And women LOVE LOVE LOVE male dominance. If you need a reminder:

Chicks dig power.
Men dig beauty.

Salesmen have known the secret of kino for ages, which is why the best salesmen, if you’re paying attention, will find a way to lightly put their hand on your elbow when they’re guiding you to their product. Kino is a little trickier in male-on-male interactions, though, because the same dominance display that works to sexually arouse women will cause another man to bristle like a porcupine.

Women also emphasize touch more than men do. If you go shopping with a woman, you’ll notice how often she caresses linens or traces a finger along furniture and vases. A woman lives in the world of touch, exquisite touch, and a man who can create that bond of touch early in a pickup will leave a bigger impression on her than a man who keeps his hands firmly by his side.

Kino leads to small acts of compliance, which eventually lead to the big act of compliance for sex. Nonverbal kino — hand on upper arm, then forearm, then thigh — isn’t the only way to escalate a seduction through its stages. Creating an emotional connection with graduated verbal compliance — asking a series of increasingly personal and sexual questions — is like the conversational form of kino. The two together — nonverbal and verbal compliance — combine to create a powerful arousal in women.

*Works on sluts and non-sluts, proles and SWPLs alike!

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Gay Men Have Game

Alpha males and gay men have a lot in common. They know how to playfully jive with women. This is why there are so many fag hags in the cities. It’s not the shopping or in-depth color wheel knowledge that chicks love about gay men; it’s the teasing they get from them that they sorely miss from the straight men they date.

If you listen to a conversation between some gay guys and their chick friends, you’ll notice that the gays almost never answer a girl’s questions or discussion tangents logically. They will nearly always take the path of evasion, obfuscation, wit, teasing, cocky misdirection or backhanded compliments (aka negs). For example (drawn from real life):

GIRL: Is it a long walk from the train to the club?

GAY FRIEND: Don’t worry, shorty, your six inch marry me heels won’t break.

***

GIRL: Why are we eating there? I heard their pizza was terrible.

GAY FRIEND: There’s a froyo place right next door if you need to eat healthy.

***

GIRL: I don’t think we’ll make this movie in time.

GAY FRIEND: Oh, you’re one of those who has to see every preview or you feel sad.

Girls lap this shit up. They can’t get enough of men who don’t take them seriously. And gays are great at not taking girls seriously, even the most beautiful girls, likely because they aren’t physically attracted to them. (How gays act around each other is a mystery to your humble host. Perhaps they become more tongue-tied.)

Now let’s rearrange those above examples to show how they would sound if a straight beta male was replying to the girl, instead.

GIRL: Is it a long walk from the train to the club?

BETA: [excited to be spoken to by a cute girl] No, it’s not bad. Maybe five minutes.

***

GIRL: Why are we eating there? I heard their pizza was terrible.

BETA: Really? They’re supposed to be the best pizza in the city.

***

GIRL: I don’t think we’ll make this movie in time.

BETA: It’ll be close, but we can do it if we leave now.

As you can see, these interactions have none of the flirty vibe that characterized the original conversational snippets. In these, the beta is answering logically, the way he would want to be answered if he was asking the same questions of a girl. But what the beta doesn’t realize is that girls don’t think like him. They don’t think like him AT ALL. Girls despise logic and straight answers, because it sucks all the fun and unpredictability out of life, and girls need fun injected into their lives because they don’t have the creative chops to make fun themselves. So they lean on gay men or cocky alpha males to generate the fun for them. Oh, sure, girls can mimic logical thinking at the office, but that’s just an act. Once they get home, they revert to their more favored natural state: EMOTIONAL AMPLIFICATION BIOFEEDBACK.

And it’s not a one-way street between girls and their gay male friends. Gay guys expect just as much entertainment out of their chick friends as the girls have come to expect from their gay friends. You will often hear of gay friends unceremoniously cutting off contact with a dumbfounded girl because she became too boring to hang out with. This puts pressure on the girls to SEEK THE APPROVAL of their gay male friends, something girls desperately wish they would need to do with their straight male suitors. Why do they wish this? Because it is natural for a girl to seek the approval of a powerful social peer, whether that peer is a friend or a lover. Women, as the submissive sex, feel more comfortable seeking the approval of others rather than having their approval sought, much like a dog feels more at ease following a strong owner who has trained it to obey.

The man who can awaken and amplify a woman’s emotions until her electrified feelings are ricocheting off every tendril of her body is the man who holds access rights to her pussy. Stop thinking logically to seduce women. Train your brain to think in the female mode, where nothing is off-limits to silliness and questions are merely props to demonstrate social mastery. It is the rare time indeed that a woman wants a banal question answered seriously and in the full, and won’t appreciate a playful deflection to more emotionally-charged topics.

***

Preemptive hater rebuttal

A reader might reasonably ask: “If gays have natural game with women, then why aren’t women sexually attracted to gay men?” Ah, but more than a few chicks ARE attracted to their GBFs. It’s such a well-known phenomenon that the meme has polluted chick shows all over TV. It’s not the whole picture, though. Plenty of girls have no tingles for their gay friends. Despite the preponderance of evidence that girls swoon for men with verbal facility, don’t forget that girls are also drawn to a masculine essence. Gay men’s voices are too musical and lilting, and their body language too feminine and graceful, to project an adequate level of raw masculinity that zooms straight to the beating, blushing heart of the pussy. A straight man, with his masculine posture, slow, rhythmic cadence, and stoic countenance poised to sudden violence who co-opts the gay man’s conversational playfulness, is irresistible to women.

So don’t think that you have to sacrifice your Dirty Harry-esque repose to play the gay man’s game of insouciant teasing. Like any master seducer, you merge seemingly contradictory behaviors and attitudes and capture your prey with a trap of their own making.

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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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