A Test Of Your Game: A Condom Conundrum

Anonymous found himself in what the walking dead would consider an awkward situation, but one which he sees an opportunity to leverage into love.

Need game advice. Buying condoms. Cashier is very cute hard 8. Buying only condoms because I have a sex life and do, in fact, need them. But could always use more plates. I’m 40; she’s 26.

What is my funny opener to the sales clerk ringing up my condoms?

Store is nearly empty. Would be easy to chat her up. Ask her to come help me try them out? Just say “come get coffee with me on your break”? Also I live 3 minutes from here. She’d get the benefit of three orgasms if she’s lucky enough to come with me to my pad.

While not a scenario most men would encounter frequently, and deciding not worth analyzing for its seduction potential, it is amusing and pregnant with much amniotic flirtation, so if you do have the good fortune to slap a box of condoms down in front of a cute cashier, this is the post for you.

My first volley of advice: Don’t be overtly sexual. Condom purchase + lewdness is not the golden tingle ticket for a girl who doesn’t know you from Adam. That isn’t game; that’s the bro clown show.

Try disqualification game instead: “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Or implied preselection game: “Do you guys have a bulk buying policy?”

Or social tension acknowledgement game: “What’s more embarrassing… customers buying condoms or douches?”

Anyhow, I don’t want to hog the microphone. Readers, jump in here and give it your best game. You will be harshly judged and winners featured in a follow-up post.

Sexist Men Are Quite Literally Winners, Common Sense (And ♂SCIENCE♂) Finds

Vapid shell entity Caitlin Dewey is at it again, snarkily uptalking in her late Millennial patois and squirting out mental masturbation material for bitter feminists left behind by a merciless sexual market. She links to a study which found that male Halo players who were losing the video game badly were aggressively hostile to female players and aggressively submissive to better male players.

Dewey uses the “””findings””” that are a little too conveniently friendly to feminist shibboleths to grind her cunty battle axe. Unfortunately for her religious tenets, the study is so flawed as to make it nearly self-debunking.

Nowhere in the linked source for the study did I see a reference to ages or races of the study participants. Were these all white kids trash talking what they thought were female teammates who were letting the team down? Or was there an unfortunate racial skew the study researchers felt disinclined to note?

And what about the ages of the male players? 12 years old, or 25 years old? This makes a huge difference. No one should be surprised when a 12-year-old boy lashes out at UGH GIRLS. But these natural and normal development behaviors of boys tend to dissipate by adulthood.

Here’s an ugly scientific and common-sensible truth with which the Caitlin Deweyettes of the SJW world should acquaint themselves: Sexist men are more attractive to women. Or, in urban SWPL ditz parlance, sexist men are QUITE LITERALLY winners.

Here’s a quote that will simultaneously trigger Caitlin’s man-hating ego and jerkboy-loving vagina.

And, in what is sure to be a shot straight to the flabby feminist gut, women are more sexually receptive to assertively sexist men.

Sexist men are socioeconomic winners and sociosexual winners. Women LOVE LOVE LOVE men who scoff at feminist poopytalk.

Now, this is not an endorsement of the 12-year-old boy variety of hostility to women. The sexist adult men who win women’s hearts are best classified as “benevolent sexists”; that is, they aren’t hostile to women; they are patronizing to women. Chicks dig a man with amused mastery. You know what chicks don’t dig, in the digging way that truly matters? Avowed male feminists sucking up to them at every turn.

Literal Cuckservatives

The Dissidenti™™ and their frazzled hall monitors buzzsaw with talk about “cuckservatives.” It’s the shiv du jour, you see. As shivs go, it is in this ‘umble narrator’s opinion one of the more lethal of the semantic shanks employed by dark realists.

Lovers and haters of the Cuck Shiv gird for battle (well, the haters girdle for battle). The wielders love the twist of their shiny new toy. The haters brace defensively, shielding vitals. As well they should. CH commenters wonder, not without historical wonderment precedent for questions of Realtalk™ provenance aligned with Chateau themes, was it Heartiste who coined the “cuckservative” scarlet C? Answer: I don’t know. The first mention of it here is dated 24 Jun 2015. I suspect Poasting Whytes were first in the field with their version. Perhaps the term was independently formulated by multiple parties, inspired to simultaneous Phoenixian birth by the polluted cascade of daily poz.

I can tell you this for certain: The term “cuckold”, and its related emotional resonance, was thrust rudely into the public consciousness and popularized right here, at Chateau Heartiste, long before the current fascination with the pregnant (heh) weight of the slur. Kneejerk anti-truthers and perplexed alt-rightists scoffed at first contact with Le Chateau’s musings on the metadeath genetic threat cuckoldry poses to men, but in time even they began to see the value of the concept as a right and proper fitting metaphor for supplicants and sycophants and self-sodomizers of various stripes, which of course means they understood on a sub-discourse level the biomechanic sexual market truth implied by the insult.

To the gristle: What is a cuckservative?

Occam’s Razor ably decodes.

Very basically, the cuckservative is a white gentile conservative (or libertarian) who thinks he’s promoting his own interests but really isn’t.  In fact, the cuckservative is an extreme universalist and seems often to suffer from ethnomasochism & pathological altruism. In short, a cuckservative is a white (non-Jewish) conservative who isn’t racially aware.

That’s a serviceable academic description. I prefer something a leetle more… pungent.

CH definition: A cuckservative is a cowardly pussy who sucks up to leftoid equalists for mercy and pisses himself when he gets accused of racism, sexism, or anti-semitism.

Corollary to the above CH definition: The cuckservative will throw his brother and his nation under the bus if it means he keeps his token status as cog in the Hivemind machine. Those cocktail parties aren’t going to attend themselves!

So what’s the difference between a cuckservative and a garden variety shitlib? Delayed reaction. The cuckservative may or may not be a true believer in reality-denying feminism or anti-white antiracism, but he sure as hell knows to stick his crabbed finger in the air to see which cheek he should spread for his equalist overlord’s strap-on.

Some common traits of the species homo homo cuckservative:

– is quick to jump down the throat of any Realtalker.
– distances himself immediately from any ostensible ally who lets slip a jarring sin against the Narrative.
– will never once, not once, do or say something brave in his life.
– is at heart the rear-end of a lemming herd. won’t take a stand (or a plunge) until the numbers safely allow him to do so.
– is ignorant of or afraid to confront racial, ethnic, tribal truths.
– would rather bear witness to national decline and dissolution and preside over gross injustice than be on record that there are consequential race and sex differences beyond skin color and genitalia.
– thinks the only difference between the sexes that is acceptable to utter in public is the male penchant for gags and buttplugs. (he also projects wildly)
– dreadfully fears social ostracism, rendering him politically impotent.
– will force himself to clap loudly for pre-op Bruce Jenner, to coo falsely over mystery meat infants, to nod soberly in agreement when the pay gap lie is mentioned yet again as gospel truth, to pretend that Michelle Obama is attractive, and to insist women’s soccer is just as thrilling to watch as men’s soccer (which is not much thrilling to begin with).
– Will give every shrieking leftoid the benefit of the doubt while reflexively questioning the motives of every ballsy Realtalker.
– will preface every feeble tiptoe into his own Realtalk wading pool with an ass-covering “To be sure…” or a spastic impromptu paean to Martin Luther King, Jr.
– backs down with a quickness at roundtable debates with aggressive liberals.
– the only topics on which he won’t back down are taxes on the oligarchs and fighting terrorists over there so we don’t have to fight them here (while insisting open borders are American as apple pie and that muslim dude who shot dead a platoon of Christian soldiers was really a victim of discrimination and now, now, let’s not get crazy and question our shared enthusiasm for increasing Diversity™ in the military).
– will intone “diversity is our strength” while commuting home to an upscale gated community that is 98% White and 2% East Asian.
– exclaims “content of our character”, “fighting for freedom”, “blacks kill other blacks more than any other race”, and “hispanics are natural conservatives” without a hint of ironic detachment.
– has probably sexually molested a young boy sometime before his political career took off.

Cuckservatives are even more loathsome than true blue leftoid believers in the antiwhite progrom, because at least you can say the latter are loyal to a personal, if mortally twisted, ethos. The cuckservative is loyal to nothing but personal aggrandizement. The cuckservative so easily betrays his stated principles because, in fact, he has no principles. He is a globocorporate transnational post-american striver SWPL just as much as any of his ultraliberal co-evals, minus the overt eagerness for estate taxes and nationalized healthcare, and he’ll be damned if he’ll let some flyover smart-ass with an eye for both the big picture and the demonic detail to destabilize his easy-livin’ sinecure.

Given this list of characteristics, the “cuckold” root of the cuckservative metaphor is exceedingly apt. The cuckservative is, in habit of mind and sometimes in practice, that pathetic white man with noodle arms and crusted tear tracks sitting hunched on a stool in the corner of his bedroom watching, with willing fervor, his ecstatic white wife get pounded into post-white release by a buck nigra who eats his food and kicks his ass when the fridge needs refilling.

Yes, he’ll sit there nicely and putter with his pud while his wife (nation) gets banged out by another man (nonwhites, third world immigrants), as long as no one mistakes him for a small town prole who can’t tell the nose difference between a merlot and a pinot noir.

The cuckservative is cucked by antagonistic races, by antagonistic ideologies, by antagonistic corporate masters, by antagonistic talk show hosts, by antagonistic fat losers editorializing on the internet equivalent of teen beat gossip rags.

All he wants is their approval. A pat on the head from his sworn and intractable enemies. He swears he’ll keep his hands to himself and won’t cum until instructed to do so!

He is a low self-esteem, approval-seeking, whimpering cumlapper.

He is dog shit.

But there is hope.

Amazingly, some cuckservatives are LITERAL CUCKSERVATIVES. Commenter james1 peruses a few famous biographies,

It’s interesting that even though the Boehner family and the Bush family are Republicans, they are bigger race mixers than the Kennedy family and the Clinton family are Democrats. Jeb Bush married a Mestiza who looks like the maid at your local Motel 6 or Days Inn and John Boehner’a daughter married a Jamaican pothead who is a wannabe Bob Marley.

Also the Republican John McCain adopted a very dark skin girl from Sri Lanka while JFK/Jackie O and Bill/Hillary who are Democrats never adopted any Nonwhite children.

Literal cuckservatives take their prostrate mewling before the antiwhite mob a little too seriously. But with a familial C.V. like, for example, Boehner’s or ¡Jabe!’s, is it a surprise that these self-abnegating genetic dead ends can’t think clearly on the subject of race, borders, nation?

As Occam’s Razor puts it,

On the other hand, the idea of whites acting as a group to secure their own interests terrifies the cuckservative. If you ever want to troll a cuckservative, just repeatedly use the word “white,”  such as “this isn’t beneficial for the white community.”  The cuckservative will be triggered immediately.

Nobody gets triggered like a nancygoy cuckservative gets triggered. Truly pathetic specimens of manhood. Wasn’t Boehner the puffboy who blubbered like a baby on stage recollecting his time in the bathhouses of the Castro District? With “leaders” and “representatives” like him, who needs an opposition party? If Boehner wants a real reason to cry, he should reflect on his daughter’s coal burning, doing her part to destroy an aesthetic, cultural, and genetic heritage 20,000 years in the making.

The Cuckservative: Re-raising equalist leftoids, because, hey, he’s got something to disprove.

Why Is Randi Lee Harper, Fat, Drug-Addicted, Mentally Unhinged Liar, Still Working At Twitter?

Twitter twats hired Randi Lee Harper as an “Online Abuse Prevention” schoolmarm, and continue to employ her, despite a mass (heh) of gathering evidence that she is fat, drug-addicted, mentally unhinged, and a disingenuous liar.

So why is she still working there? Does she have dirt on Twatter executives? Or is the entire Twatter HR department staffed wall to wall by crazy-eyed feminists and pantywaist sycophants allergic to facts and tasked with Narrative dissemination?

A reader muses,

“feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… fat… feminist… ”

I see, someone REALLY doesn’t want to be allowed back on the twitter.

Does anyone seriously think a CH house lord would beg a porky misfit like Randi Lee Harper for re-entrance to the club she is inexplicably charged with monitoring? No, that is not how this will go. She will come to CH, on her ungulate knees, to offer an obsequious apology and reconciliation to her betters. As losers are meant to do.

Long-time guests of Le Chateau will recognize the deeper message of this post. They will know this post is not solely about Randi Lee Harper (or about using her SJW tools against her) — she is but a convenient emblem to showcase a much more pervasive societal sickness — but is about, instead, the tentacled mind and body rot oozing out over the commons from the sewage pipes emptying the uptalking id waste of the SJW corporation of bitter, spiteful, loser freak degenerates whose adult sentiments were prematurely calcified into a juvenile philosophy of solipsism as they peered at the world outside through the vents of their high school lockers.

PS Hi Randi! PETA wants to know how your blue-dyed dog is doing.

Newsflash! Talented Tenth Ingrate Doesn’t Like White People

High yella shit stirrer Courtland Milloy hates white culture (which means he hates white people, since a culture is a reflection of a people’s racial essence).

For years, the struggles of middle- and working-class black people animated life on 14th Street. Now all of that is gone. It’s been replaced by a stultifying air of aloofness. The millennial newcomers — most of them white — jog, bike and walk about the city as if in a trance, oblivious to the lives that helped form the place they now call home.

“in a trance” = “normal white people behaving like whites and not like ghetto blacks, which really irks and alienates me”.

Even leftoid Hivemind media organs can’t keep the commenter Realtalk™ storm at bay. From “econundertow”:

14th Street isn’t as much fun as was in the good ol’ days, that’s for sure.

I’m sad that the wall-to-wall junkies that used to pass out on top each other in front of my ‘house’ @ 14th and T sts. NW are gone … fine upstanding citizens, all of them.

I fondly recall the time when the carjacker pointed his .45 Colt at me out of his stolen car window @ 12th & N sts, There was an upstanding member of the 14th street community.

I recall the young man shot to death in front of the house I was renovating on Fairmont St a year later. I miss being shot at myself while operating a machine on the same street. What is 14th street without these folks?

There were the drug-dealing kids who tried to gun down a rival on R st @ 14th. They fled in a late-model Ford station wagon … poor aim, they missed their target despite 15 shots from a 9mm pistol. Nevertheless, fine upstanding members of the community.

I recall the shyster car dealers, the winos, pawn shops and liquor stores … the suburbanites looking to score PCP, crack, heroin and pot in any number of large, open air drug markets. The sound of children playing, “Hey, dude, you need anything?”

W st @ 14th was once one of the most dangerous areas in the city, like 144th @ Lenox Avenue in Harlem, even for cops. The the large, rotting apartment buildings lining W st were mazes, the druggies knew them inside and out. Ditto with the row of large apartment buildings on R st between 14th and 15th. All those living in those buildings and the other derelict apartment houses are certain to be missed.

Indeed, all those young black men were certainly on their way up, they just got shuffled aside by zombie millennials. Right…

Do the Courtland Milloys of the world deserve a measured response? Nah.

Fuck these fuckers in their phonyfuck faces.

PS Diversity + Proximity = Courtland Milloy’s butthurt id!

Field Test: The MAXIMUM ALPHA MALE MODE Walk

Remember the CH post about walking like an alpha male? For shits and remotely activated tingles, I decided to try out the MAXIMUM ALPHA MALE MODE walking style in a beautiful baby zoo near you.

I walked about town like a guy who absorbed a piece of gorilla DNA in a telepod, similar to Jeff Goldblum’s unfortunate mix-n-match in The Fly. I strutted and swaggered. Not quite as comically as this buffoon:

…but getting close.

Result: After an hour or so performing the “here are my steely balls, ladies, feast your eyes” gait, I can conclusively say that a lot… no, a WHOLE LOT… of women tossed me lascivious stares. Not “what is this weird guy doing?” looks; real hardcore “i want… i need… to get to know this man” stares.

Ok, there were a couple of “who’s the weirdo?” looks, but most were definitely in the “checking him out” camp.

I want… I need… to report that I felt foolish walking like I had an anvil in my crotch that I had to swing my legs around, but sadly, with heavy heart, I felt no such discomfort. What I did feel instead was confidence boosted major.

To this day, and after so many years of confirmatory experience, it still astounds me how autonomically women are magnetized by a man exhibiting alpha male characteristics. It’s almost… robotic.

Bottom-Of-The-Barrel Cuckold Fetishist, Or Spinster Hoax?

One hundred and one Chateau patrons slipped this juicy omega male shitlibbery — “What Open Marriage Taught One Man About Feminism” — into the combox for cathartic evisceration by yours unduly. The story concerns a “Mr.” “Michael Sonmore” (scare quote usage to become clear in a moment) who professes to an open sexual relationship with his wife and a full awareness and acceptance of his cuckoldry.

As I write this, my children are asleep in their room, Loretta Lynn is on the stereo, and my wife is out on a date with a man named Paulo. It’s her second date this week; her fourth this month so far. If it goes like the others, she’ll come home in the middle of the night, crawl into bed beside me, and tell me all about how she and Paulo had sex. I won’t explode with anger or seethe with resentment. I’ll tell her it’s a hot story and I’m glad she had fun. It’s hot because she’s excited, and I’m glad because I’m a feminist.

Mmhmm. This rings authentic.

When I quit working to stay at home with the kids, I began to understand it on a whole new level. I am an economically dependent househusband coping with the withering drudgery of child-rearing. Now that I understand the reality of that situation, I don’t blame women for demanding more for themselves than the life of the housewife.

LOL. So transparent. Male feminists don’t parade their sickly ids in public quite so pitch perfectly. AlexPareeniks, manlets extraordinaire, usually whip up their self-flagellation with a leavening dollop of bitter regret for betraying the last vestiges of their masculinity.

She didn’t present it as an issue of feminism to me, but after much soul-searching about why the idea of my wife having sex with other men bothered me I came to a few conclusions: Monogamy meant I controlled her sexual expression, and, not to get all women’s-studies major about it, patriarchal oppression essentially boils down to a man’s fear that a woman with sexual agency is a woman he can’t control. We aren’t afraid of their intellect or their spirit or their ability to bear children. We are afraid that when it comes time for sex, they won’t choose us. This petty fear has led us as a culture to place judgments on the entire spectrum of female sexual expression: If a woman likes sex, she’s a whore and a slut; if she only likes sex with her husband or boyfriend, she’s boring and lame; if she doesn’t like sex at all, she’s frigid and unfeeling. Every option is a trap.

This paragraph is the crone giveaway. A bitter, lonely cat lady wrote this article as a hoax to fellate her scorched ego and lash out at all the men who pass her by or use her up. True, the lowliest of lowly men COULD have written such excrescence, but the way to bet is that an insol spinster with delusions of vengeance and… sexual agency (heh)… fantasized this whole scenario into existence. She hits too many jargony femcunt talking points too squarely on the whiskered nose. Madonna/whore double standard? Check. Alpha fux/beta bux strategy justification? Check. Anti-judgmentalism? Check. Patriarchal oppression? Check. Dismissing as cultural baggage the real, primal, biologically-founded fear men have for cheating wives who might get pregnant by another man and foist their bastard spawn on them as their own? Checkold.

The point is that it should be women who choose, not men — even the men they’re married to. For my wife, the choice between honoring our vows and fulfilling her desires was a false choice, another trap. She knew how deep our love was, and knew that her wanting a variety of sexual experiences as we traveled through life together would not diminish or disrupt that love. It took me about six months — many long, intense conversations, and an ocean of red wine — before I knew it, too.

This paragraph contains the second crone giveaway. No man nurses his depression with “an ocean of red wine”. He hits the hard stuff or the beer. Spinster cat ladies, licensed to psychologically project! B-U-S-T-E-D. Great job, Michelle Eatmore.

It does work both ways and, yes, I too enjoy sexual carte blanche. I just don’t use mine as much as my wife uses hers. What’s important is equality of opportunity, not outcome.

How convenient for your imaginary heroine, Michelle. PS Equality of opportunity doesn’t apply to the sexual market because women have a near-monopolistic advantage on sexual commerce (which when they indulge decreases the value of their commitment market value, but femcunts don’t want to hear that part).

Update

Reader NothingMan00 adds,

I plugged each of the paragraphs presented here into the Gender Guesser:

http://www.hackerfactor.com/GenderGuesser.html#Analyze

It guessed female writer for each, assuming the piece is an example of “formal” writing.

Another commenter astutely pointed out that no man would worry more about his wife “falling in love” with another man than about his wife fucking another man. This is pure, distilled bitterbitch psychological projection.