Gay Boyfriend

I have a theory about girls who have “tight like that” best gay boyfriends. These types of girls are very girly (read: flaky and feminine) but their libidos lean towards the masculine. It’s really the perfect combo: A girly girl who unleashes in the bedroom (and the park and the library and the deep end of the pool…). I’m not sure why this is. Maybe the girly in them loves the BGBF attention and the sexpot in them identifies with the robust and promiscuous gay lifestyle. The downside for a straight guy dating a BGBF-loving girl is the higher risk of cheating and drama. These are the girls who will dance on bars as random guys stroke their stockinged inner thighs. To handle a relationship with this girl, you have to be in a “party all the time” mental space.

Interestingly, there is no reverse scenario. There’s no such thing as a lesbian girlfriend for straight men. It would be great to be able to call up a best lesbian girlfriend for a quickie round of golf or Wii bowling, and commiserating over bitches. Even better if she’s a lipstick lesbian and looks good. Unfortunately, lesbians get along with no one but other lesbians.

I would love to have a gay boyfriend — minus the intimacy part — to take along shopping so that I don’t have to waste time figuring out what looks best on me. He would know right away. And I would enjoy my platonic gay boyfriend’s constant flattery boosting my ego major — maybe even two full rating points (10++) so that I would hit the clubs later on cloud nine rejecting women all night for being out of their league.

Some things I’ve learned from a girl I know who has a BGBF:

• Gay boyfriends are fiercely protective of their girlfriends. They have been known to knock out brawny straight guys for disrespecting their “girl”.
• Black gays are the most flaming, followed by whites, then asians who are the hardest to peg as gay from a mere glance. Supposedly, this is because it is a big deal for gay blacks to come out so when they do it’s pedal to the metal.
• There is such a thing as a “gay face”. Hard to describe, but you know it when you see it. Think big bright feminine eyes, full lips, and an all-around glow.
• All gay men are “ass men”. There’s no such thing as a gay “bitch tit man”.

I am much hipper and, yes, a little gayer, for knowing this culturally valuable information.

Postscript:

Do gay men get off looking at their own penises? Do they have to battle a hardon every time they grab hold to take a wizz? Mysteries of the universe…

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My First Experience With A 10

One time in South Beach I wandered into one of the art deco hotels and found myself surrounded by models. It was 1AM and I was drunk so it seemed like a good idea to roam the halls of a random hotel and crash any parties in progress. Every other room door was open and filled with beautiful people smoking pot, lounging on bean bags, and languidly caressing each other. There were hippie beaded doors and silk see-through fabrics substituting for real doors from which billowing clouds of pot smoke would emanate. The whole place gave the impression of walking through an interactive diorama of set pieces featuring the genetically perfect in their native habitat doing what they do best — snorting hedonism like an eight ball.

Passing by one of the rooms a girl shouted out at me to come in and join them. “Hey you, whatever your name is, don’t be shy!” I was barely out of college and had no game for this type of situation so all I could do was nod at the group and feel my pupils dilate to maximum aperture to take in the breathtakingly beautiful women. An occasional 9 or 10 walking down the street is a rare treat and can knock a guy right out of his daily humdrum stupor, but a roomful of 9s and 10s in seductive half-naked poses, doing that thing where you’re high and laughing without any noise coming out of your mouth, and gesturing for you to come closer where you take in their natural aromas, will make you catatonic. I tried hard to ignore the male models scuffling around the room in their underwear and felt relieved that the purity of my heterosexuality was not challenged by their six sigma good looks.

I sat on the purple shag rug next to one of the girls, a waifish brunette with olive skin and Mila Kunis lips. Her body and face couldn’t have been crafted any better by a master sculptor. I admired her flat stomach under her half-shirt dangling like an awning off her boobs.

“Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.” (I was very angsty back then.)
“Well, Mr. Nowhere, spark it up! You look tense.”
She handed me a spliff. I coughed on my first drag.
“I should warn you, it’s strong leaf.”
Suddenly, she leaned over and planted her lips on mine. The sensations overwhelmed me. I felt like I was having an out of body experience. We kissed for a few seconds. She pulled back and laughed as she slapped the back of her hand against her forehead.
“Hey dude, beer’s on the balcony.” One of the male models was talking to me.
I looked over and saw that my new love had her hand on his knee and he was chuckling. I stood up and went to the balcony. There was no beer in the cooler. Looking around, I saw that no one was paying me attention anymore. I left to find my friend.

That night was a glimpse into another world, a secret society of blessed people who are above 99.999999% of humanity, flouting every known convention and not giving a fuck. I fondly remember my first kiss with a 10 better than I do my actual first kiss. Enjoying the pleasure of a truly stunning woman is an experience like no other on this earth. Mediocre women — even attractive 8s — don’t provide the same profound depth of stimulation. I don’t know how so many men can get it up for ugly women.

In the age old question of quantity versus quality a balance must be struck. The super alphas will cycle through a rotation of the hottest women. Everyone else must compromise in some way. Variety in itself is a turn-on, but steady sex from one exceptionally beautiful woman is more rewarding than new sex with a plethora of plain janes.

Beautiful women are worth holding out for. By “holding out” I mean “saving your commitment”. One night of sex with a 10 is equal to ten years of sex with fifty 6s.

Tomorrow I will discuss the quantity vs quality pussy issue in more detail.

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Inner Game

I have a friend who is very self-critical. When we go out to meet girls he will handicap his game by being too hard on himself. When he isn’t weaseling out of approaching girls with every excuse in the book he is projecting an overly attentive vibe when he does manage to enter a set. In the field, I’d often hear him say:

“I wonder if she got my jokes?”

“I hope I didn’t come off as too needy.”

“She’s probably looking for a different type of guy.”

Poor inner game — what is known by other jargon as your state of mind or your self confidence — is inwardly directed. Good inner game is outwardly directed. It’s the difference between berating yourself for not winning over others and berating others for not winning over you. The men who are naturally good with women live outside their minds — they are externally focused. The downside is that they are usually not very introspective, but who cares about that shit when you’re getting pussy? Introspection is for dainty young women in sundresses picking buttercups in meadows.

If my friend had good inner game what he would have said is:

“She loses points for not having a good sense of humor.”

“She’s the kind of girl who hides her insecurity behind aloofness.”

“I’ll chat with her to see if she’s the type of girl I want in my life.”

I hear a lot of talk about how Game routines are going stale, and chicks see right through them. In fact, the problem isn’t typically with the routines, it’s with the confidence and congruence in which they are delivered. If your inner game isn’t solid then what you present to the outside world won’t match what you are feeling inside. Your inner game is reflected through your body language and voice tone, so however clever your routines they will strike a false note if you don’t internalize the confidence you are trying to portray. You will betray yourself with negative thinking.

Fake it till you make it means faking that internal confidence as well as the external behavior. This is not as hard as it sounds. Every time you feel self-doubt and talk yourself into inaction, yell “Stop!” out loud, and your brain will reboot. You then consciously reframe your thought processes to put the burden of approval seeking on those around you. With good inner game you can say just about any ridiculous routine and the girl will be intrigued.

The most important change in thinking you can make:

You are not there to win over women, they are there to win over you.

Keep saying this over and over until you begin to believe it. You are re-wiring yourself. Don’t worry about the truth or falsity of it. That’s irrelevant.

The beauty of this system is that it turns the seduction template on its head. Co-opting a woman’s natural choosiness and making yourself the chooser instead of the chosen is extremely attractive to women. Because it hardly ever happens this way, women will happily strive to win the approval of a man who is clear in his words and his actions that he is judging them for worthiness of his attention, and not the other way around.

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What’s Annoying In This Picture?

Take a look at this “man” (and I use the term loosely):

This twee little turd was photographed at the opening of the new Brooklyn Flea market, written about in this New York Times article. The annoyance level of this picture is a 9 on the Prickter scale. There’s so much hideousness to choose from that you’ll have to decide what’s most annoying. Personally, it’s a toss-up between the billowing flowered scarf and the gloves in April.

If you needed one picture to sum up everything that’s wrong with a once great nation, this will do. From the doughy flaccid face begging for a punch to the exquisitely scuffed boots, he’s a pure distillation of decadent pointlessness. An asexual globule of fey excess. A consumerist wastrel. He’s like the anti-Christ of virile manhood: the anti-man. The nearer you get to him, the more testosterone he sucks out of your soul. Ironically, the closer women get to him the more manly they become, probably out of spite. Women tend to take on the characteristics of men when the men in their lives forfeit the job.

Here’s the catch: If he’s straight, I bet he gets laid more than the average straight American man. Why? Because he’s not average. Stepping out of the mainstream, no matter how preposterous, gets a man noticed by women. Most will hate him, some will be indifferent, and a few will love him like a rock star. This equation adds up to more pussy than the average guy can get, since average men are hated by some women and unnoticed by all the rest. A bland average man never starts off with a small but firm base of aroused women.

It’s for this reason I define alpha males as those who can secure the best pussy in the greatest quantities on the most favorable terms. Bowling 300 is an alpha trait, but skipping the bowling competition to violate a hipsterette’s mouth in the back of a coat check of a dingy club is alpha itself.

ps: men should never go to flea markets. are you a gatherer, or a hunter?

pps: whitepeople love postscripts.

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One Year Anniversary: Greatest Hits

There have been some new sadomasochists readers here at the chateau lately, so I figured it would be helpful to acclimate them to the chateau’s delights with links to personal and fan favorite posts. (Plus, I forget what I write about five minutes after I write it, so this is a way for me to explore my mental state at various times this past year.)

My very first post on April 9, 2007: Endless Dating

Not one of my best efforts, but being the first I include it as a matter of curiosity.

The very next two posts happened to be two of my best:

How To Win Back An Ex-Girlfriend

Excerpt From The Book Of Alpha

Check out the comments which are chock full of valuable info.

A funny post that got me a date with a cat fancier: LolCat Game

Me being creative: Profiles in Scintillating Conversation

The scripture of this blog summed up in one post: Truth Day

An attempt to calculate the odds of a girl flaking: Flake Odds Point System

A real life pickup story from the underground biography: The Bachelor Party

Judging a woman by her cover (this post caught the eyes of the Wonkette crew): She Eats Her Peas One At A Time

My most viewed post (must be a lot of Dennis Kucinich fans out there): Dennis Kucinich: Alpha Male

My third most viewed post, and one I had to work hard to collect the data for: A Quick And Dirty Dating Guide To Foreign Girls

Dealing with a girl’s last minute resistance.

I give my future kids the lowdown: An Open Letter To My Hypothetical Future Kids

My thoughts on love and underwear parties.

This post generated a lot of anger and self-serving platitudes: From Kitten To Cougar

I enjoy rubbing the ugly side of life into the faces of the pretty lies crowd.

How bitter woman-hating betas are created.

Omegas and betas welcome their sexbot overlords.

Despite claims that it’s the intelligence and imagination two people bring to bed that makes for better sex, it’s the hotness of the woman that really counts.

Pushing a girl away will trigger her attraction for you.

The many ways to answer a girl when she asks you if you think she’s fat.

Second in a series of my popular girlfriend or fling posts.

My experience with something unnatural: Fake Tits

Getting our terms straight: Defining The Alpha Male and The Alpha Female

My second most viewed post, and one that caused a lot of consternation among lawyers. Again, this information required much time spent in the field collecting data. Like Jesus Christ, I suffer to enlighten my readers: What A Girl’s Job Tells You

I channeled Tyler Durden in this post. I must have been tripping.

Need to know what your chances are of landing your dream lover? Then check out my masterpieces and tally up your score: Dating Market Value For Men and For Women

A sad story from my life that contributed to making me the charming devil I am today: Dodged The Same Bullet Twice

Best Halloween Costume Ever

My experience with jungle fever.

My anti-lawyer screed. I’m really proud of this post.

The things I will do for a girl if I really like her: Litmus Test

Always date at least two girls at once.

A very in-depth analysis of proper alpha body language.

A woman’s number one asset. Care to guess what it is?

The sweetness of robbing a girl of the satisfaction of dumping you.

A critical component of game is getting compliance from a girl.

A fine list of maxims.

My manifesto against marriage.

Cockblocked by Scientology.

This post on the sex appeal of younger vs older women cause much wailing and gnashing of teeth and probably cost me a few hookups through the blog. But I have to stay true to my art.

A ripping good yarn about my time dating a woman I feared was a tranny.

As a connoisseur of young cooch, these two posts present rules for dealing with dating younger women.

Don’t say I’m not a giver. Here’s my post on game for girls.

A man’s state of mind is the most important thing for determining how much pussy he gets.

I discuss how fat women distort the dating market and create players.

Girls love assholes – news at 11.

Guarantee a healthy relationship with the fear of loss.

This was the number one commented post. Betas are hip.

The perfect woman. (Hint: that cropped pic wasn’t randomly chosen.)

Looking forward, I intend to steer this blog in a fresh direction while staying true to the core mission statement. Change is good.

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Arrogance Vs Confidence

Radiating an aura of being perfectly fucking pleased with oneself is not necessarily the same thing as arrogance. Men who are just beginning their journeys to womanizer enlightenment will often overcompensate for their wasted years of betaness by copping an arrogant attitude. With time will come the wisdom to transcend arrogance and replace it with confidence.

Arrogance is not a good trait, but it is better than wishy washy niceguy syndrome. Despite women’s insistence that cocksure assholes turn them off the asshole will still get more pussy than the niceguy. WAY more. So if you’re on the long road to social and sexual reawakening and are hopelessly mired in niceguy celibacy it would be advantageous to be an utter dick for a while just to get a few calming notches under your belt.

Some important distinctions between the arrogant and the confident man:

Arrogant man – Gets defensive when challenged.

Confident man – Has nothing to prove.

Arrogant man – Sneers.

Confident man – Smiles.

Arrogant man – Childish.

Confident man – Child-like.

Arrogant man – Easily provoked.

Confident man – Undisturbed.

Arrogant man – Insulting.

Confident man – Teasing.

Arrogant man – Sarcastic.

Confident man – Witty.

Arrogant man – Braggart.

Confident man – Can afford a little self-deprecation.

Arrogant man – Aggressive.

Confident man – Resolute.

Arrogant man – Threatens.

Confident man – Mindfucks.

Arrogant man – Thinks a girl playing hard to get is a “bitch”.

Confident man – Thinks a girl playing hard to get is “cute”.

Arrogant man – Domineering.

Confident man – Dominant.

Arrogant man – Takes it personally if his girl doesn’t cum.

Confident man – Understands that she feels her greatest pleasure by pleasing him.

Arrogant man – Juggles girls.

Confident man – Invites them all over for an epic videotaping session.

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Stuff Whiter* People Like Quiz

Hoping to prove to myself that I am a badass nonconformist, I read through all 76 entries to date at the Stuff White People Like blog and tallied up my score to see how many applied to me. I was as truthful in my answers as I could tolerate.

My white person score: 27 out of 76, which rounds up to 36% white.

*More technically, 36% whiter than the average white, since what that blog really describes is the kind of status whoring that upper middle class coastal city liberal whites like to pursue to separate themselves from the masses of unenlightened whites in flyover country.

I’m pleased with my score. It shows that I have just enough taste to enjoy the good life (green tea has anti-oxidants! NASCAR makes no sense to me!) but not so much self-righteous whiter person status posturing that I become the very thing I loathe (no, I really don’t give a shit about raising awareness!).

I’m so convinced that a lot of these things that whiter people like are merely grabs for status over other white people that I have an experiment in mind. According to this entry, white people love to go to ethnic restaurants (not including Italian) that are patronized by non-whites for the “authentic” experience, so they can tell their fellow whites about their new favorite foreign cuisine. This earns them major bragging rights. The more foreign-sounding the food, the better. Listen as they take great pains to pronounce the dish they had in its native tongue.

Now I like Ethiopian food, even though it gives me tremendous gas one hour after eating it. But I wouldn’t stop eating Ethiopian food if suddenly it was served in a bland cookie cutter suburban eatery and the waitresses were not real Ethiopians, like they are in the place I go to in Adams Morgan. I would continue to enjoy their delicious injera bread even if a hundred other white people were sitting around me eating the same thing, and that is because I go for the food itself.

So in my experiment I would take the most popular Ethiopian restaurant in a hip neighborhood in DC, one that the hippest white people rave about, and move it into a vacated McDonald’s restaurant in a 100% white suburban neighborhood, where I would then sell combo meals of authentic Ethiopian food at $4.99 a pop, with a big gulp honey wine and plastic utensils, served at the cash register by a non-Ethiopian, preferably a dour white hipster with a lip ring or a Chinese woman. If whiter people are truly going to exotic ethnic restaurants for the enjoyment of the food as they like to claim they are, then business should remain brisk in my new McEthiopian restaurant. If business slows to a trickle, then I know that the whiter people were only singing the praises of Ethiopian food when eating it had an “authentic” feel so as to score culinary gotcha points in the neverending struggle to reign supreme at the top of the elitist cultural heap.

Stuffwhitepeoplelike in a nutshell: Making fun of the tribalism of people who think they have risen above tribalism.

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