The Myth Of The Medieval BBW

Ugly women, feminists, and fat chicks hate that men have attractiveness standards. It’s been as long as I can remember that mustachioed lezbo academics and their impressionable vajlings have been claiming that prehistoric drawings and figurines supposedly depicting fatass broads prove that female beauty standards are malleable and culturally conditioned. Riiiight. My first post-puberty boner at age fourteen for the cute, slender brunette down the street wouldn’t have happened without messages from TV telling me thin chicks are in.

Now it turns out all those ancestral BBW figurines that so enamor the sort of feminists who loathe male desire may not have been sex objects or symbolic mother/goddess figures at all. (Link via Dienekes.)

Made by Neolithic farmers thousands of years before the creation of the pyramids or Stonehenge, they depict tiny cattle, crude sheep and flabby people.

In the 1960s, some researchers claimed the more rotund figures were of a mysterious large breasted and big bellied “mother goddess”, prompting a feminist tourism industry that thrives today.

But modern day experts disagree.

They say the “mother goddess” figures – which were buried among the rubbish of the Stone Age town – are unlikely to be have been religious icons.

Many of the figures thought to have been women [by researchers] in the 1960s, are just as likely to be men.

Somewhere among my readership a fat chick just wept big bloated tears of ice cream.

Even more disheartening for the cultural conditioning crowd and BBW goddess true believers, there is evidence that prehistoric men carved plenty of sexy, slender babes for their viewing pleasure. And in mini-skirts, to boot! Yes, Cosmo B.C. must have been warping teenage minds 7,500 years ago.

“What about Rubens?!” squeal the fatties. Well, many of Rubens’ late medieval European contemporaries, such as Botticelli and Cranach, painted slender babes. And Rubens himself deviated from his fat fetish to paint normal weight women. Furthermore, it is likely that Rubens was not painting masturbation material for the masses. If he was, he probably would have ended up like Francisco de Goya, who *did* paint erotically posed slender women.

Goya was summoned by the Spanish Inquisition to explain who commissioned the “obscene” art.  I don’t know what Goya told them but he lost his job as the Spanish court painter, and this was as late as the early 19th century, though in southern Europe.  Goya’s nude maja comes close to modern erotic pinup art/photography and is the type of art that is most likely to represent the artist’s preferences or those of his contemporaries, but it doesn’t depict an overweight woman.  What were the chances of a painter coming up with something similar when the Church ruled?

If your paintings would have caused hard-ons to spring up among the drooling public, the Church would have had a word with you.

Bottom line: There is no evidence that Rubens’ paintings of unpleasantly plump women were representative of the kind of women that most men of his time considered hot. Except for a few weird outliers like the Mauritanians and fatty fuckers like Rubens, and allowing for some minor variation in female attractiveness standards between the major races, the vast majority of men across cultures and historical generations have lusted for thin young women (BMI 17 – 23) with 0.7 waist-hip ratios and feminine dispositions. No amount of railing against the “system” or engaging in sophistic pseudoacademic hocus-pocus is gonna change this fact.

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Chicks Dig Jerks: A Series

Some men and most women are so afraid of facing the truth about the gina tingle that even when the evidence is slapping them in the face you will hear them say things like “Oh, women don’t *really* want assholes. They want niceguys who are confident and strong.”

Weasel words. Exhibit A: Love letters from women to death row inmates. Let’s take a latesummer’s jaunt through some of these declarations of undying love for men who have stabbed, shot, strangled, raped, disemboweled, chopped up, tortured, violated in sundry horrific ways, and otherwise demonstrated many qualities of the “confident and strong” man with their unfortunate victims.

It happened to me and I am considered the most level headed person going (apparently) and then people decided I lost my mind! But I wouldn’t swap my man for the world. Sometimes you just have to take a chance! What have you got to lose? I doubted my feelings at first, I just figured it would be another complication for him, and for me. But now, we are as happy as can be. You could find love on the outside, but would you be any better off? Any man can betray a woman and vice versa, but it the love you find is real, it will stand everything that lies ahead. I know my guy could be there for the next got knows how many years, before/if execution comes. But I will be with him all the way, and I will be there if/when he dies. Grab any happiness you can. I was married for several years, and my husband turned out to be a pretty useless liar – he got caught! But with my guy, I have found a person who is so completely on my level, I never thought I could find this, but I did and I am always by his side! Just be careful, some are charmers, some are just looking for kicks, but some are genuine and need loving. If you don’t have experience of death row apart from this guy, then just heed that warning. I have been involved with D[eath]R[ow] for a good 10 years, and I have learned alot, both good and bad. But if you really feel it is right, then just go for it and enjoy it:thumbsup:

******

It took months, for me to find to the word for what I had been feeling since only a few weeks after I began to write a death row inmate. I only told him yesterday; the word that had escaped me was intimacy. Not intimate as in physical touch or sex, but truly intimate. The two of us almost seem to live within eachother. We know eachother in a way noone else has ever known either of us. He says that I scare the hell out of him, because it is as if I can see through to his soul. I feel the same with him, he knows and understands all.

******

To the love of my life, my baby and husband forever, my Randy…love you baby, always ‘n’ ever, Merry Christmas and Happy Chanukah!!! Can’t wait ’til he’s home with me one day…and we can have our beautiful babies together. [Editor: Great, just what society needs.] Merry Christmas to all you ladies also, all of us who have this bond because of where our men are :(, Lou, Kyla, Babealicious, rosita, and Kris…I am praying for us all and for our men, that they all know how much we love them and that they will all be off the row one day and home with us, where they belong. 🙂 Love ya’ll. Happy Holidays.

Someone on the forum asked what everyone’s loved one did to get on death row. This is how one woman answered:

Capital murder is the only thing someone can be sentenced to death for. My husband was only an accomplice, he didn’t commit the crime he was so unjustly sentenced for. I however do not feel like anyone should ask that question in the “loving a death row inmate” forum, but that is just my opinion.

Yes, best to ignore that 800 pound bloodthirsty monster in the room. I’d imagine women who love death row inmates are exceptionally skilled at rationalizing away unpleasant realities. A common theme among the letters is how many women protest their lovers are innocent, and how wrong it is of the state to “kill people who kill people to prove that killing people is wrong?????:angry:” [actual forum comment].

More love notes for killer blokes:

Wow… I came into here cuz I wondered how women of lifers are like? Now I know. They’re full of compassion and patience enough to share with everyone here and over there and with their men. It’s amazing how some of you stand by your man and not have a divorce within first 5 years of incarceration. Amazing! I could just cry by just thinking how you endure that! Wow… Also, it seems like intimate loved ones of livers could tolerate celibacy. How? Wow… I just KNEW that love DOES exist without the necessity of sex, I just wanted to see the words of those women with my own eyes. Now I know that type of love does exist… unconditionally. 🙂 God B-L-E-S-S all of you special people! Smile. And I cried the another day several months ago…

Women would rather endure years of celibacy and separation in the faint hope that their death row lovers will be released, than go on a date with a law-abiding beta in the outside world.

I got my first letter from my new friend on DR…I have to admit I was a little timid but when I read his first letter all those feelings went away..He is so nice, friendly, and really warm. He was so happy to get my letter…I must say that I am really looking forward to getting to know him.

A lot of death row love affairs start with the woman writing a letter to one of the inmates. Why do so many women feel compelled to write tender, inquisitive heartfelt notes to killers in prison instead of writing to Nathaniel Schnerdling the accountant who lives across the street? After reading my blog, you now know the answer.

Well…I am not sure what to say or how to say it…I guess I’m just feeling really overwhelmed…and I’m afraid this is something he can’t help me with…he doesn’t know how things feel from my side…I’m hoping that someone can give me some words of wisdom…

Here is a man on death row…that I am head over heels for…and things get more and more intense with each letter and now phone calls…He told me last night that I was his everything. Which means so much more than saying “i love you”…and I am losing it…

Since the beginning he told me that he appreciated me because I had these two worlds My world and Our world…in our world I am his and he is mine…and in my world I go about my day to day life…studying, dating, going out, etc…and I used to be so good at seperating the two…the problem is the closer we get the more time I want to spend in “our” world…not that I am going out less or that school is suffering….more that I have no interest in anyone else…

A well-known game tactic is the “Our World” routine, where you build rapport with a woman by describing how there are two worlds, the outside world where the girl interacts with her humdrum daily life of work, school, friends, etc., and “our world” where both of you share a secret bond and the rules of society don’t apply. It would seem natural born killers are also natural born seducers.

I Can’t Say How I Met Him
We Grew Up Together.
I Can’t Say When I Loved Him
It Just Always Has Been.
Ican’t Say What Happened
To Put Him Where He Is.
I Only Know I Love Him,
Simply Because He Is.
He Is My Best Friend
The Reason Why I Smile.
He Is The One I Love
And Have For Quite Awhile.
No, He Isn’t Perfect…
I’m Not Asking Him To Be.
He Is Simply On Death Row
And Means The World To Me.

Somewhere in America, a girl just received a poem from an idealistic young beta and shared it with her girlfriends for laughs.

I just had to share this with all my friends at PTO. I have a very dear friend on Polunsky Unit, in Texas, and I just recieved the most amazing package from him I have ever seen. I am going to try and get a picture of this artwork to put up.

To any people that see these men as monsters, I just wish that you could feel and see what I am feeling and seeing today. It cost him over $30 to send this package to Australia.

It is a beautiful picture of Indian art, past present and future, and I am one that loves Indian artwork, but I have never seen so much detail and beauty in this.

The other is a painting he did of some roses, and the details are perfect with that painting as well. He painted and sketched them for me :). It isnt normal paper either, its proper artwork stuff. (his level one).

I am just so excited I had to share. I feel the luckiest person alive today, having such a dear friend in my life, that took time out to show how much he appreciates me as a friend.

These men aren’t monsters. Look, he painted roses on higher quality paper!

I have a question (no Im not getting married), I was just curious. When you marry a man on death row, that is already there, and the visits are non contact, do they give you time to be together, so you can at least touch, like a hug and a kiss. Its just something I have always been curious about.

I wonder if Half Sigma would consider death row weddings prole?

Charles made me a beautiful home made card with a neclace on a rope with a little tube of his hair in it. 🙂 It was just so nice to have something thats a part of him, It just made my day. he said i cant send him my hair, doesnt seem fair:(

******

I just got my phone bill in!! My guy was moved from Polunsky to county, and of course it is GREAT cause he has phone access, DAILY, not the every 90 days to call me. The calls are $52 a call 😮 He is so worth it though, but I could of flown over there and visited him in county by the time these calls all hit my bill.

What love does to us all 🙂 He is so worth it though 😀 Now he will be on a limit, cause I will have to prepay the calls. 😦 On the other hand though, I should enjoy it, because he will be back to every 90 days again after he is done in county. Ummm, but then I will be broke. 🙄
Its so hard to say I cant accept (I wouldnt do that anyway). Just to hear his voice on the other end for 15 minutes, going HEY SWEETIE!! 🙂

Women will go broke for the men they love. Remember that the next time you’re tempted to buy a girl a drink.

Well I haven’t had a phone call in a couple days, no mail either… then today I get his letter that he’s in the hole. :angry: Sometimes this is so frustrating. As if we aren’t limited enough already, now we are limited even more. I haven’t been able to talk to him this week so I don’t even know the reason behind it. From what I hear they are on it right now, sending guys to the hole left & right. He has no food (except their daily meals) they took all his personal things and it will be 2 weeks before he gets it back… so in the mean time he is staring at the walls, hungry, and going crazy… which makes me crazy knowing he’s crazy… does the maddness ever stop???

….breathe…

******

I never, ever would have imagined that I’d fall so deeply in love with him when I first began corresponding with him. But now that it’s happened, I cannot deny it. I have come to love him deeply over the past few months and he feels the same about me. Our souls are intertwined. I want to freely love this man and give him my heart. Yet, at the same time I am scared that I will hurt him down the line. I’m scared that I won’t be able to give him what he needs. I’m scared that I’m just not strong enough to do this. I question why I would fall in love with someone that I will never be able to share my life with in a conventional way, someone that I will never be able to fall asleep with, come home to at the end of the day, or even kiss.

How sweet!

I have been writing a DR inmate for a significant period and really felt we had a deep bond, a sincere and close friendship. Recently our dynamic evolved from platonic to flirtatious. We both acknowledged this and mutually confirmed to each other that there may be something special developing between us. He wanted us to become closer yet I was very conflicted about whether to explore it or not as I have never been involved with a man who is incarcerated so I have infinite issues with this which are intensified by him being on DR.

The ultimate fear was obviously the possibility that he may be executed and the unbearable agony of watching my lover die like that. Did I want to allow myself to fall in love with him knowing this could be our tragic fate?

The woman who wrote the above (which I excerpted from a longer posting) sounded of well above average intelligence.

today i found his updated ad in VOICES FROM INSIDE ,I am very sad because some months ago he told me that he did not have any ad online .im agree that he can write other pen pals .the only think ,i can not accept, is that he lied to me 😦 i have supported him in anyway i could but now i dont know how to behave:confused:

A death row inmate lied to you? Shocked, I am!

I just want to say that I have been “lurking” here for awhile. I am so excited to have found this site. When I am reading the posts here, I finally felt normal. I am very much in love with a man on death row. I have explained this situation repeatedly to my friends and family. Some of them have suggested that I have lost my mind. I am 28 years old and have a very good job. I am attractive and lead a very stable life. I have several non romantic pen pals on death row but then I met him. I have found my perfect match in every way. We have more in common than most people would believe. My friends have pointed out all that I would be giving up. BUT I already have a beautiful nine year old daughter and due to my career I was never planning to have anymore children so in that respect I am not missing out. I would much rather be with the correct person in a tough situation than with the wrong person in a comfortable situation. I may only be 28 years old but trust me when I say that I have faced more challenges than some people will face in a lifetime. I have found the person that I love and while it’s only been about six months, it feels like so much longer. I know that this relationship will be tough but he is able to call me each time he comes out of his cell, the calls are not collect as they are able to use phone cards and we write every single day. I am so in love with this man. Hearing the joy in his voice when we talk is so wonderful. He makes me feel very special and for once I know that someone is not with me because I am “hot”. He sees my heart and in return I see his. Sorry this is very long but I just wanted to say thank you for posting on this site and giving me a sense of acceptance in a world full of extremely judgemental individuals.

Doubters and feminists will claim that only low class, ugly women would fall for killer men. Oh, really?

This “Loving a Death Row Inmate” forum is ripe for righteous trollery. I’d log in under a female pseudonym (something similarly cutesy as the other female forum members, like “unicorngirlrainbowflyer”) and talk about how my lover wanted me to join him in slowly torturing and killing a teenage virgin, and then eating the victim’s heart together to seal our pact of eternal love, and how the thought makes me cry and orgasm like I’ve never orgasmed with any other man. I wonder how many sympathetic ears I would get?

Reader Arpagus wrote in response to the Death Row Lovers forum:

I have never seen so passionate declarations of love. Wish I could be loved like that. Being on death row obviously trumps everything else you could ever imagine would attract women. What we call game is nothing compared to this.

Even where there is no death penalty, killers are on the top of the food chain. There is a trial here now against a man for killing three people, including a pregnant woman. He got a female guard to enter a personal ad for him, resulting in 84 replies. 16 were already married and 30 sent nude pictures of themselves. Some were journalists, yes, but he he has more than enough real loving pussy left to live happily ever after.

Scott Peterson was on death row barely an hour when he received his first marriage proposal from a female fan. Do all women love convicted killers? No, but the sheer volume and intensity of sexual attention lavished on death row inmates tells us something very valuable about the deepest, sincerest desires of the female heart. And that something is quite discomfiting, indeed.

Whle Smart Sassy Susie the DC Lawyer Chick may balk at the idea that she would ever tingle in the gina for a death row inmate, the truth is that she is not so far removed from the women who do fall in love with killers. Her separation from those other women is a separation of degree, not kind. For every woman who writes love poems to cold-blooded killers, there are one hundred women whose hearts beat fast for an asshole who cheats, a jerk who lies, or an alpha who dominates.

The id monster holds dominion over us all, now and evermore.

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Sluts Are Not Less Discriminating

We were drunk. Words we would later wish hadn’t been spoken came tumbling forth.

HER: Amber got a fuckbuddy. She couldn’t wait around forever for a boyfriend.

ME: What’s forever? Ten minutes?

HER: There’s nothing wrong with having a fuckbuddy.

ME: Have you ever had a fuckbuddy?

HER: I’m just saying there’s nothing wrong with it!

ME: Holy crap, you’ve had fuckbuddies?!

HER: [open mouthed stare]

ME:

HER: [getting visibly nervous] What? I’m not saying *I’ve* had fuckbuddies.

ME: Jesus, are we talking double digits?

HER: Oh, like you’re one to talk.

ME: [thinking about the girl with the purple saguaro] You know, vibrators were invented for those downtimes!

The next weeks were spent with me recalibrating the pseudovirginal goodness of my woman. Clearly I had missed some red flags. Then I wondered how widespread the fuckbuddy phenomenon was. I wistfully pondered my past conquests. Memories that were once bathed in divine light suddenly acquired a darker hue. Emily? Yep, she must have had a fuckbuddy at some point. Julia? A stable of fuckbuddies. Kim? Doubt she could even make it through the day without a cock buried to the hilt.

I give sluts a hard time when they attempt to redefine the terms of debate with sophistic pretty lies. No doubt they do this because they know, deep down inside, that being a slut is gonna lower their value in the sexual market, and that’s the value that matters most, because it resides at the core of all other values. Nonetheless, my glee at tearing apart the lies sluts tell themselves shouldn’t be confused with animosity toward the sluttastic lifestyle. Sluts provide a valuable public service to guys like me — namely, a clearer path to sexual release. I also want to be able to identify them early on so I know to cross them off my potential girlfriend list, and to double up on the condoms.

There was a time, way back when I was a stripling, that I imagined a world full of slutty girls would be a boon for beta males. Experience with sluts has shown me otherwise. While they may be less discriminating in how often and how quickly they spread their legs, their rebuke of natural female restraint doesn’t necessarily translate to a similar rebuke of choosiness. Bad news for the betas: Sluts are slutty, just not with you. Sluts share the same target acquisition system for the top 20% of males as all women do. Hypergamy uber alles.

Reader Tupac left this comment:

Even if the women only garner a few pump-n-dumps out of such men, they are now keyed in on tenor, timber, warp and weft of the day-to-day life habits of such men and in so doing acquire a more finely honed radar for lesser men who don’t “make the cut.”

True. It may seem counterintuitive, but a loose, cavernous chick will often be *less* forthcoming with her sexual favors if the man she is with exhibits the tentative meekness of a beta.

Reader Arpagus:

And thus it comes to pass that sluts tend to be *more* picky than women with few prior partners, in a kind of twisted paradoxical way. If you are beta, don’t get your hopes up because a woman has had 80 sex partners. Someone with 5 is more likely to sleep with you, perhaps even a virgin.

Sluts may be pickier than chaste women about weeding out the betas, due to their spoiling from illusory experiences with alpha males, but they are far less modest within the circle of alphas for whom they readily part their furrows. That is why, when you hear a girl has racked up 80 partners, you should make the necessary qualification: She has racked up 80 alpha male partners who used her like a convenient sperm receptacle until something better came along.

Naturally, as you slide down the female attractiveness scale (but before you hit the 2s and below), you’ll find more sluts, and sluts more willing to slum it with betas and omegas, because easy access to their wet holes is all they have left to barter. This explains the phenomenon of fat chicks getting more sex than hot slender babes. In response to someone’s contention that fat girls have all the fun, I wrote the following comment over at the FeministX blog:

more precisely, [fat chicks] are too busy getting pumped and dumped. fat chicks have higher cock counts because in their desperation to snag a loyal boyfriend they open their thunder thighs for all and sundry hoping the easy access will win a man’s heart. the higher value women can afford to be more discriminating.

There’s more bad news for betas hoping to drain their blue balls in sluts. Not only are sluts more apt to restrict their no muss no fuss sexual favors to high(er) status men, they find it harder to emotionally bond with men, particularly men who are lower status than the highest status men they fucked. This isn’t entirely the sluts’ fault. If blame is to be placed, it should go equally to the alpha males who occasionally dumpster dive with less attractive women. There is no surer way to raise a woman’s hopes of winning a high quality boyfriend than to have an alpha seduce her for a night, give her the hottest sex she’s had in years, and then leave in the morning and not call back for weeks. Once a woman has had that faint hope instilled in her, she can go months or even years rejecting more suitable beta males in favor of pining forlornly for that one alpha male who will certainly, she tells herself, come around and decide she’s a catch worthy of commitment. And the sluttier she has been, the more fly-by-night alpha males she’ll have lodged in her memory to pine over.

A few years of getting her heart broken again and again, and even the most romantically idealistic slut will turn crassly cynical. And cynicism is the venom that slowly clots the lifeblood of love.

Interestingly, this is further proof that female obesity, just as much as the other factors I’ve written about, has heavily (heh) skewed the mating market against the interests of the average man. Not only does a growing mass (double heh) of fat women result in fewer acceptable partners for men and thus more intense competition for the remaining thin babes, but the fatties have likely poisoned their ability to bond with men because of their history of getting pumped and dumped by promiscuous alphas.

The fate of America may very well hinge on getting her women to push away from the table.

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John Edwards Is Bringing Big Love Back

In an ABSOLUTELY SHOCKING, *GASP*, I NEVER WOULD’VE GUESSED development, chronic sleazeball liar alpha male John Edwards will admit paternity of his mistress Rielle Hunter’s bastard child, and he’s moving mistress and baby into a house in his neighborhood so he can watch over his harem take care of them.

John Edwards will move the mother of his love child into his North Carolina neighborhood so he can help raise their 18-month-old baby, the National Enquirer reported Wednesday.

The Enquirer also reported that Elizabeth Edwards, who is stricken with cancer, was furious when her husband told her of his parenting plans.

Furious, no doubt. But remember, this is the woman who stood by his side when he was apologizing so profusely for reaping the spoils of his alpha pull on women:

Edwards adamantly denied during a confessional interview with ABC News last summer that he had fathered a child with Hunter, and he said he welcomed a paternity test. His wife, Elizabeth, has said while promoting her book that she doesn’t know if her husband is the father.

Naturally, once the cancer ravages the last ounce of Elizabeth’s life force, Johnny Lawyersleaze will need a pussy replacement pronto. Having Rielle so close ensures convenience of lovemaking.

Would you buy a car from this man?:

I’d love to see recent polls of John Edwards’ favorability/approval ratings broken down by gender. Do a majority of women still give this guy the thumbs up? A significant minority? Bill Clinton certainly had the undying love of American feminists even while he was exercising his power over a 21 year old subordinate and oppressing her with the repeated thrustings of his patriarchal stogie.

This story crystallizes so many musings I’ve had. For instance, we now have proof that lying isn’t immoral, but lying while beta is. Then there’s the whole de facto polygamy angle, as amply illustrated by John Edwards’ harem building.

How to change a monogamous culture into a polygamous retroparadise in three easy steps:

1. Give single women the right to vote.
2. Let simmer for a couple of generations while betas invent stuff that severs biological constraints from hypergamous impulse.
3. Medicate sexless drones with Xbox and xHamster.

The cycle seems to go like this:

Enforced monogamy –> Emergent monogamy –> Civilization blossoms –> Emergent polygamy –> Enforced financial monogamy –> Decriminalization/Acceptance of polygamy –> Decivilization/Culling of excess betas –> Enforced monogamy (best case)/Reign of Chaos (worst case).

I believe this progression is unavoidable as long as human nature remains what it has been for millennia. Civilization has programmed self-destruction. Trying to stop or reverse this “bug” in the code is akin to redesigning the schema of evolution itself. The best you can hope for is that after the Great Culling there are enough sensible people left around to learn the lessons of past fools and to rebuild the edifice. On an individual level, for those born within the Great Culling the best answer is game if you want to make it out psychologically healthy and penilely satisfied on the other side. Or become a well-coifed Senator.

This reminds me of an admiring ode I previously wrote to John Edwards:

John Edwards’ wife lies for him knowing he was fucking and impregnating a new age whore while she lay in a hospital bed with cancer.

Somewhere in America a dutiful beta husband was just served divorce papers and subsequent financial ruin for no reason he can discern except that he didn’t excite his wife’s loins anymore.

People sometimes ask why I so deliberately and unapologetically act in my own self-interest and take what I want.
Because I know the score.
And you should too.

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A Jaunt Around The Internet

Many readers have sent me this UK tabloid story about a tacky British slut (redundant?) who asks the sex advice columnist (there’s a 21st century New Girl Order occupation of pointlessness) Rowan Pelling whether she should reveal to her boyfriend the truth about her, uh, comprehensive sexual history.

I’ve been with my boyfriend for six months, we’re both 34 and I am fairly sure he’s The One. The other night we ended up having a conversation about how many lovers we’d had. He told me he had slept with eight women and suddenly I felt nervous about confessing the truth  –  I had a lot of flings at university and in my first job at an ad agency, so my tally is closer to 40. But I found myself saying ten and even then he looked horrified. I hate being untruthful with him, but don’t want to be judged either. What should I do?

Here’s my advice: Lie your whore ass off. We all know, thanks to the “Double Whatever Number She Claims” rule, that you’ve banged 80 cocks, 40 of them probably swarthy immigrant cock. This means that there is no chance your boyfriend is “The One” since it’s impossible for a woman to make a soulmate connection once her gina has tingled over the four corners of the earth. More precisely, you have found “The One Last Hope” that could save you from spinsterhood. You are walking on thin ice what with your advanced age and bedraggled labia, so the last thing you want to do is fuck it up by giving your boyfriend a justifiable excuse to dump your rode-hard flat British ass. “But why would he do that?”, you whine. I think you already know why, otherwise you wouldn’t be fretting about what to do. You have demonstrated by your inability to be more discriminating with your womanly wares that you are a potential cuckold/infidelity/divorce theft risk. Men have scientifically and observationally valid reason to avoid commiting to skanks such as yourself, so recognize this reality of the male psyche and hope he doesn’t find your All Male Revue Facebook page.

That’ll be $200.

Now here’s the advice Rowan Pelling “sex columnist” gave to her:

To be honest, if your man really loves you he should be able to take the full tally with equanimity. But then that would presume that he’s secure in his own skin and, as we all know, a great many people aren’t. What you perceive as censure may well be old-fashioned male insecurity. […]

Having said all that, I think most lovebirds should steer clear of going into the minutiae of previous conquests.

And if a man is unwise enough to ask a woman how many lovers she’s had, can I suggest the following response: ‘Let’s just say I won’t wear white at the wedding.’

Naturally, her advice is retarded. I expect nothing less from 99.9999% of women writing sex and relationship advice columns. The male insecurity trope is the “Get Out of Self Examination Free” card, and is readily whipped out by the Slut&Skank Syndicate and the Fatass Feminist Fatwa whenever their wishful thinking collides with the immutable force of male nature. To make it as clear as possible for them: Men pump and dump party time pussies, but they don’t marry them when more chaste options are available.

To put it in terms that cater to women’s self-absorption, is it old-fashioned female insecurity when women balk at sleeping with plush, niceguy betas? Are women insecure in their own skin when they hesitate to marry unemployed men? The question answers itself.

By the way, a woman who sneeringly tells her fiancee she wouldn’t be fit to wear white at their wedding is just begging to be dumped like yesterday’s trash. However, it is a clever shit test. Any man INSECURE enough to stick around after such a cackling, sordid revelation has proven his beta bonafides.

******

Another reader sent me a link to fashion model tryouts in Russia. He knows this blog well. After perusing the photos (fully unclothed perusing) I composed this Ode to Russian Women:

Oh Sweet Russkie
Your beauty is like vuuudka
To incapacitate my mule
Your chiclet teeth like pearls
To chomp my borschty tool
Your round pushed-in face
Makes my ballsack quiver
When I shoot my load
In your mouth, it’s a river
Just one thing to note
Before I end this ode
Best to get you as a teen
After 30 it’s babushka load!

The description by the event organizers on the website is classic alpha Russian. And by alpha Russian, I mean they know how to BS without veering too far into neutered, politically correct Conor Friedersdorf territory.

Beauty is assessed in a different way.  Various cultures praise various features and traits. It is not  easy to find the diamond.

The desire to be at the podium and be admired is inside every girl. But only those models who succeeded can tell us how many worries and obstacles they had to overcome. The way to fame is paved with hard labor and constant work over oneself. Beauty is especially valued in the modern world. For many this is a chance to be noticed to get to more serious sphere than just unsteady fashion and beauty industry.  In the effort to achieve the aim, the girls are looking for their happiness at the beauty contest. So today we would like to have a look at the stage before the contest, so you are invited to the casting in Minsk. The National School of Beauty in Minsk is going to hold the International Beauty Contest Miss Intercontinental.  This is a beauty pageant known since 1973. What criteria will the jury follow  first of all? This is natural beauty. When asked, the jury was not able to describe the portrait of potential winner, but still accented that the main thing is the inner beauty of the girl.

My favorite part of the website was the link to the Russian meat market girls:

Mmm, that is a fine looking cut of meat.

******

In other news that won’t surprise anyone who isn’t a hermit ignoramus or a feminist, science has once again proven a core tenet of Game: The concept of social proof is real.

The most striking result was in the responses of single women. Offered a single man, 59 per cent were interested in pursuing a relationship. But when he was attached, 90 per cent said they were up for the chase.

Men were keenest on pursuing new mates, but weren’t bothered whether their target was already attached or not. Attached women showed least interest and were slightly more drawn to single men.

You know that typical female lament “All the good men are taken”? It needs to be accurately rendered for the Darwin Generation: “All the taken men are good.” Mystery nailed this ten years ago: chicks dig preselection. The first thing you must do when going to a bar alone is befriend a chick. Start off low and work your way up to the hotties.

******

Over at The American Scene, I read another lame white knighting attempt by our favorite house beta Conor Friedersdorf to grapple with the eeeevil of the neg. The article was the usual misrepresentation of game and umbrage over the fact that men like sex with a variety of women that I’ve come to expect from the chipmunk-cheeked traditionalist conservative crowd, but Steve Sailer did leave a couple of worthy comments that deserve a second look:

The point of “game” is for guys who are stuck in subordinate positions to other men at work to learn techniques to pretend to women in bars that they are dominant over other men during the daytime (at least until the woman figures out that the guy isn’t making alpha male bucks at work).

So, many of the game techniques are ones that dominant men use on subordinate men at work, such as negging.

Consider the relationship between George W. Bush and Karl Rove. Obviously, Rove was smarter and harder working than Bush. So, why was he subordinate to Bush? In part, because Bush carried out classic dominant male behavior of alternating between praising Rove, holding out the vision of how far he could go as Bush’s subordinate, and negging him, calling him “Turd Blossom” and the like, to undermine his self-confidence. Bush always negged Rove with a smile on his face, but neg him he did.

The really interesting question about game is this: if some percentage of subordinate males can actually, through practice, can start fooling women in bars into believing they are dominant males, why not use the same self-improvement techniques to fool men at work? After all, if men believe you are an alpha male, then you are an alpha male. And if men think you are an alpha male, and give you money and power like they think you are an alpha male, then women will think you are an alpha male, too.

So, if these techniques really work, why restrict yourself to getting just Women when you can get Women, Money, and Power?

He’s half right. Some game techniques, like DHVs, compliance, and alpha body language, are mimickry of nonverbal and verbal dominance signals that men employ over other men, but many game concepts are not. For instance, social proof and kino escalation (layman’s term: progressively intimate touching), would get you disdain, envy, or a black eye if used on other men. But they work great on women.

This is why my definition of the alpha male is so elegant. It doesn’t rely on male dominance over other men or male dominance over women, for which those two phenomena overlap to a great degree anyhow. Instead, it quickly cuts to the chase and defines the alpha male by how hot are the women he can attract, how strong is that attraction for him, and how many of those women find him attractive.

Note for the dumbass betas: An alpha male is *not* necessarily the man who sleeps with a lot of women. He is the man who *could* sleep with a lot of women if he so chose.

As for Sailer’s poke at the end, who says Illuminated Men aren’t using game tactics in other areas of their lives? And for those who aren’t bothering to use game to achieve things of monumental importance in the corporate grind, perhaps they prefer the pussy path of least resistance. Not a sermon, just a thought.

Sailer writes another comment:

Negging is essential behavior in the formation of all-male and all-female social spheres.

Females tend to form small cliques and make catty remarks to drive away lower-status females.

Males negging other males can lead to violence, but it’s often less vicious than female negging. It can go on pleasantly for a lifetime: watch how four retired buddies insult each other on the golf course.

The main function of male vs. male negging, however, is hierarchy building. It’s a test of dominance to see who has the personality to be a leader. Leaders encourage it in social settings to check out which younger males have the attributes of quick-wittedness and aggression to become subordinate line managers within his hierarchy, and which would be better suited for staff roles.

The question, therefore, remains: Why not use Game not just in the bars but in the boardrooms to win not just women, but the power, money, and prestige that naturally attract women as well?

Presumably, Pick-Up Artistry works best for aggressive, quick-witted men who have flaws that prevent them from becoming leaders of men (e.g., laziness, need for instant gratification, and so forth).

It’s true that the men who take most quickly to the beauty of the neg are those who are already blessed by genetics with assertiveness and a quick wit, but all this means is that less-gifted men have to train harder to improve their lot with women. Like playing an instrument, it is possible for a man with sufficient practice to get better with women.

******

Dennis Mangan has a post up about game and social collapse. The comments section is ablaze. Take a look. I have been branded a desolate impact on civilization and a representative of the lowest moral order. *preen*

Here’s a clue, chipmunk-cheeked conservatives: If you wish to change the behavior of men, you first must change the behavior of women. The penis parades to the pussy tune, not the other way around. Your chivalry and paeans to honor and duty do nothing but fuel the decline. Guys like me laugh at your sacrifice.

And for those who continue troubling themselves over the conceptually useful and reality-reflecting definitions of alpha male and beta male, let me help clear up the matter. Alpha/beta isn’t a dichotomy. It’s a gradation; an attractiveness bell curve that is somewhat weighted toward the left hand side due to women’s propensity to “date up”. There are plenty of betas who do manage to get laid and find a woman to marry, but the devil is in the details. As you go down the beta scale, you find more men shut out of hot sex with women in their salad days (teens and twenties) and settling later in life with used-up cougars-in-waiting. The further leftward you descend, the more involuntarily celibate lesser betas and omegas you’ll see. The further rightward you ascend, the more happy alphas with their choice of poon dominate the sexual landscape.

******

On a more serious note, apparently Lady Laddie Gaga is a hermaphrodite. She gotta ween! Check it:

She’s a man, baby! David Alexander: “It moved, Jerry.”

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Game Can Save Lives

A sexually frustrated beta has sublimated his pain into a murderous shooting spree aimed at his ex-girlfriend. He left an online diary behind offering a glimpse of his blackened soul:

Sodini’s Aug. 3 online diary entry, which included a date of death, was full of disturbing musings about religion and his plans for the attack. He noted that he hadn’t had a drink since 2:30 on Friday as part of his preparation.

“Total effort needed. Tomorrow is the big day. Unfortunately I talked to my neighbor today, who is very positive and upbeat. I need to remain focused and absorbed COMPLETELY,” the diary read. “Last time I tried this, in January, I chickened out.”

The diary also indicated that Sodini hadn’t had sex since 1990 and that his so-called “practice papers” — details about the planning of the attack — are welcome to be published afterward because “maybe all this will shed insight on why some people just cannot make things happen in their life, which can potentially benefit others”.

When men kill women, the underlying reason is almost always an unfulfilled psychosexual need. This goes for spree shooters, rapists, and serial killers. I’m not surprised Sodini hadn’t had sex in nearly 20 years. As I’ve written before, to some men on the losing side of the desireability bell curve celibacy is walking death and anything is justified in avoiding that miserable fate.

Click on the first link to see a picture of Sodini. He’s not a bad-looking guy and he’s in shape. There is nothing outwardly repulsive about him that would cripple his chances with women. But as we know the physical appearance of a man reveals little about the state of his spirit. A decent looking guy can harbor the sunken ship of a broken beta heart, and clearly Sodini was a beta, if not an omega, as his 20 year dry spell attests.

If Sodini had learned game he would have been able to find another woman and gotten laid after his ex dumped him. He wouldn’t have spent the next 20 years steeped in bile and weighed down by his Sisyphian blue balls, dreaming of vengeance. Game could have saved the lives of the women Sodini killed.

I agree with the gist of what commenter Whiskey has written — as the West reverts back to the ancestral sexual market that is currently in operation in sub-Saharan Africa, we are going to see a growing eunuchracy of involuntarily celibate betas and the marginalized men in their ranks decide that exiting in a blaze of hot lead beats living in loveless obscurity. And ex-girlfriends are target #1.

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No Such Thing As Unconditional Love

As I wrote in one of my “Ugly Truths” posts, unconditional love is a happy fantasy sentimental people want desperately to believe because they think it sullies love to have it debased by the reality of conditions placed upon it, as if love, oh wondrous exalted love, could be just another business transaction in the sprawling biological bazaar of human mating. I helpfully cleared up the issue for them:

There is no such thing as unconditional love. If a girl gains 50 pounds her boyfriend will fall out of love with her. If a guy loses his job and drifts into months of unemployed depression his girlfriend will fall out of love with him. Thinking clearly on this will give you the best chance to find real love.

I used to think that the only example of what could conventionally be regarded as “unconditional love” in the natural state was a mother’s love for her child. Well, piss all over another pretty lie, because yet again one of my maxims has been further buttressed by the imprimatur of science: Women More Likely Than Men to Reject Unattractive Babies.

The differences between men and women in motivational effort to extend or shorten the viewing time of abnormal-looking babies “may reflect an evolutionary-derived need for diversion of limited resources to the nurturance of healthy offspring,” the paper concludes.

The findings question the concept of unconditional parental love, at least among women. “What our results suggest is that this is determined by facial attractiveness,” said Rinah Yamamoto, first author and a research fellow in psychiatry. “Women may be more sensitized to aesthetic defects and may be more prone to reject unattractive kids. Men do not appear to be as motivated. They didn’t expend the same effort.”

Do mothers love their babies unconditionally? Not if the kid isn’t cute. Throw another wrench into the gears of the platitude spouting mental machinery of the mediocre masses. It’s grimy Dirt and DNA all the way down.

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