Asshole Game Week: The Relationship Reset

Asshole Game Week: Day One is here. Day Two here. Day Three here. Day Four here.

The Chateau has plenty of readers already in relationships and (lucifer help you) marriage. Many of them would like to know how to apply asshole game to the women they love and are afraid to drive into boredom because of legal ramifications.

The rules of the Game don’t change when you decide to keep a woman around for longer than a few nights. All that changes is the frequency and intensity of your tactical assault. Instead of “shock and awe”, it’s more like “surprise and delight”.

On that dulcet note, reader Sentient demonstrates by example,

A few notes on asshole game from the confines of a marriage/LTR. Now while these may not have the the same storytelling value of asking a single girl to hold your drink while fucking another girl in front of her, they do render the desired nuclear effect on a fully pampered princess bride, who has grown accustomed to her beta lackey hubby:

1. She asks you to fill her water glass with a whiney “i’m thirsty… and a wiggle of a raised glass” and you say “No thanks”.

2. She asks you to run downstairs and get her xxxx from yyyy and you say “I think you can manage that, it’s good for your glutes too”.

3. She informs you that her BFF has arranged a play date for the kids and you and her an hour away from home at some place you have zero desire to go to, and she expects you to be the driver, as always and you say “Have a good time, not interested”.

4. You make a move for sex at 10 PM on a Wednesday night, she gives you the cold shoulder and something like “we just had sex [fill in the blank] days ago”, and you say “Ok, have a good night”, kiss her on the head and leave the house “not sleepy, going out for a bit” your departing words… a furious litany of hamsterese lighting up your phone for the next hour, which you ignore.

5. and the coup de grace, when she wants to have a BIG TALK ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP and she says “I don’t like how you have been acting the last [fill in the blank]…” and you look her square in the eye and shrug “you don’t have to”.

BOOOOM goes the dynamite. Relationship reset activated. #winning #welcomebacktestes #tingles

“Relationship Reset” is a good way of putting it. That’s precisely what you want to do. Reset your girlfriend’s or wife’s impression of you. And there’s no hotter button to push than the one that activates a tingle torrent. A million things about you can anger a woman, but if her anger is accompanied by a stirring in her snatch she’ll rationalize your flaws away as if they were puffs of girlish illusion.

Commenter newlyaloof adds a few more Relationship Reset strategies,

#6 Dress/eat differently (adding variety to your life). When wife notices the switch and comments about it, say, “Yeah, I’ve moved on.”

#7 Mention the young, cute girl at the office whenever possible (commute with her if possible too). Instant wife motivator.

#8 Can’t remember who stated this, but if your wife questions anything that you mention, say “Because the words left my mouth, that’s why.”

#6 is thermonuclear, and the blast radius enlarges the longer you can maintain an air of opacity concerning the meaning of your explanation.

I hope everyone enjoyed Asshole Game Week. If popular demand warrants, I may feature another week devoted to the craft of cleaving clefts by psychological axe.

The Hag Lag

As men get older, or as their social circles enlarge to include women of various ages, they’ll encounter a particular breed of aging beauty who at once provokes pity, annoyance and fascination. She is the eternal ingenue who has aged out of her most intoxicating years, but hasn’t aged enough to realize it. That window of time when awareness hasn’t yet caught up to reality in the Ingenue’s mind is what I call the Hag Lag.

There isn’t a man who has lived a day in his life who won’t recognize the eternal ingenue, or that moment in time when she is stricken by Hag Lag. At her prettiest and most coltish, she weaves allure like Rumplestiltskin did gold. Flouncy, bouncy and announce-y, she knows how to make an entrance, cast an entrancement, and devise an entrapment. She is usually petite, lithe, and ultrafeminine, so few men can resist skipping the LP on their mental pabulum straight to the triple X track the ingenue wants them to hear. (Naturally, she will deny deny deny ever inciting men in this way… it’s just her being her!)

Her female friends hate to love her. They envy her super female-ness and the ardor with which she expresses it, but they love the side benefits of being around her (more high value men). Her taken friends are especially cautious in her company. They see the laser eyes their boyfriends make in the ingenue’s direction.

It’s high drama until, one day, after something relentlessly wicked has crept up on her, the ingenue’s antics assume the maniachromatic tinge of undignified desperation. She has aged, and the graceful lines of her face, so delicately drawn with the sole intent of arousing men to stupendous idiocy, crater against the onslaught. She has none of the physical fortitude of earthier women to withstand even the first ticks of the tock. Her surrender is quick and merciless.

This age of Wall approach roughly corresponds to the late 20s-early 30s, give or take a few five-mimosa brunches in her past. The ingenue parties hardy, and swoons ecstatically, so you might say she has a fast strife history.

But, mentally, she doesn’t know it, or accept it. The eternal ingenue is nothing if not self-confident. Many years can pass and mock her as she struggles to cope with the loss of her only, definitive, power. This is what makes the Hag Lag a concept in tragicomedy. There she is, still doing her early 20s act, but the body and face betray the ruse. She dances and prances, kicking Klieg lights in her direction, and the wet joyous eyes once framed by delectable plush skin now strain in sad sockets, sunken, dry, and a little deranged.

She will eventually come around to her loss, but not before she has humiliated herself to the delight of romantically settled friends. God save her. She bears this punishment as penance for her short, glorious stint filling the world of men with desire and longing to merge with her larger-than-life feminine soul.

Asshole Game Week: In Pickup Games, Offense Wins Every Time

Asshole Game Week: Day One is here. Day Two here. Day Three here.

Pijama Wearing Ninja provides a clinic on how to pick up sexy girls at the gym with nothing but a devil-may-care recklessness and a honed talent for segueing every subject into one with sexual overtones.

I went to the gym today and the only girl in there with both a cute face and body was doing squats and I complimented her on not being a cardio girl and told her that soon she will squat as much as me. We talked about guys who don’t train legs for a minute and how they’re the equivalent of cardio girls in the gym. She asked me what happened to me (as in to my knee) and I told her penis reduction surgery. She laughed and asked me why is my scar on my knee then and I told her that the surgeon was very clumsy. She giggled so I told her that I don’t like girls who laugh at injured people. I told her I have to go and told her my name and she told me hers and extended her hand and I told her that she probably has calloused hands from all the squatting so kissed her cheek and took her number.

That was… fuckin poetry. There’s a lot going on. Let’s unpack it.

PWN’s opener is at once a fronthanded and a backhanded compliment. congrats for eschewing cardio in favor of squats… oh and soon you will have legs like strong masculine man.

He moves into humorously DLVing his competition. (this is pua jargon for “tearing other guys down”).

Then there’s his refusal to give a straight answer, opting instead for the flirty, sexualized tease of “penis reduction surgery”. (Beta males are notoriously bad at answering women’s questions with anything but logical, tingle-killing coherence.)

He punches up his momentum with a sterling disqualification: “I don’t like girls who laugh at injured people.” Push-pull is the metronome of seduction.

He exits the conversation first, but not before delivering a final, asshole-caliber taunt: “I told her she probably has calloused hands from all the squatting.”

And then, of course, the physical escalation at the end is a move no non-asshole would dare attempt.

PWN follows up:

I think I’ll invite her for some minigolf this weekend or next week and the loser would have to buy the winner an alcoholic drink of their choosing*. Mine will be a glass of wine. I like good wines so that will also give me something to DHV with and girls love wine. The minigolf place is really close to a winebar and both are 20 minutes away of walking from my place, which has a pretty good skyline. Too bad it’s winter and I can’t just have a walk with her due to the cold and the skyline will be blocked by the fog. FUCK WINTER!

Pickup during winter is probably the lamest, especially if the girls will bond to you and expect gifts on Valentines, another similar day we have here, 1st of March and 8th of March. Back in the days of abundance, I always fought with my girls on purpose and rekindled or found new ones after this month of financial carnage. I seriously prefer buying my mother lots of flowers than wasting my money on silly tarts. lol

*used to teach girls if I was beating them really bad, which was good excuse to kino. Rusty now so not sure I’ll get to do it.

What kind of man but an asshole would deliberately fight with girlfriends as a con to get out of buying V-Day gifts and dinners?

By Asshole Game standards, PWN’s gym pickup marginally qualifies, but inclusion into the world of sexxxy assssssholes is relative to the competition. The marching mass of mediocrities known affectionately as beta males wouldn’t talk this way to a girl even in their Casanova-conjuring dreams. And that is why they fail.

Asshole Game Week: Slip Out The Back, Jack

Asshole Game Week: Day One is here. Day Two here.

What happens when you totally bail on a woman? She fumes and refuses to ever talk to you again? She waves off the thought of you with a dismissive mental gesture? Or… something else?

Commenter Hosswire writes,

About a year ago, after voraciously clicking through all of the glorious Chateau’s game posts I decided to up my asshole game with a hot 20-something (I’m 41) half-black acrobat (blackrobat) chick I had just won over with my new arrogant & sexually entitled persona.

This reads like the voice-over intro to a Swingers-esque indie flic.

At that time, I had seen enough results to know that CH precepts were effective, though felt like there were levels of assholeness that created counterproductive results. So I was, like, 95% convinced.

There are levels of assholery that can be counterproductive, and this is in large part contextual. More desperate older, uglier or chubbier women will wilt under the kind of sustained asshole attack that would send a younger, hotter, tighter woman into an upward spiral of horny delirium.

Anyway. This chick was part of an aerial acrobatic (Cirque de Soleil shit) school & invited me to her Winter show. Bought me tickets, introduced me to her friends, made a big production out of it.

Halfway through the show, for no other reason than to be a dick, I got up & walked out.

Twenty minutes later, I got a text:

Her: Did you really leave?

I waited a good 10-15 minutes before replying.

Me: Meeting some friends for drinks

Note the lack of apology or excuse. If you’re gonna play the asshole game, you’ve got to appear comfortable with your rule-breaking mystique. Don’t flinch!

Three minutes later, I realized that it was literally impossible to be too big an asshole for women when I got this text:

Her: When are you going to be home? I am going to rock your world tonight.

That night, with the help of some coconut oil from my kitchen I experienced every orifice of that dusky beauty. Color me 100% convinced now. Asshole game works.

Topically administered medium-chain triglyceride sex is the healthy alternative.

I wouldn’t infer too much about the effectiveness of asshole game from the biracial nature of the lead temptress. I’ll have a post related to the race-asshole game nexus soon but, in short, although there is reason to think a Rushtonian “Rule of Three” governs the receptiveness of women from different races to asshole game, I’ve found that there are attenuating variables that work against a broad racial disposition.

For instance, the white men in upscale WM-BW couples are often very beta-ish, or at least not at all like the wiggers you’d expect. I suspect that the higher class black women willing to date outside their race are the sort of women craving a dependable, faithful provider, and are therefore less likely than their sun-baked sistren to require the courtship equivalent of a crotch grab to grab their attention.

A more pertinent factor is the degree of femininity of the biracial beauty. It’s a good bet that a half-black acrobat is out on the far right side of the black woman bell curve for slenderness and femininity, and, if my experience and SCIENCE tell us something, it’s that young, highly feminine women of any race tend to be the most receptive to asshole game. So, if this “blackrobat” loves her assholes, it’s probably less a consequence of her racial pedigree than it is of her femininity.

PS I don’t know Hosswire’s race (his tone suggests non-black), but whatever it is, it wouldn’t much alter my analysis.

The Chowderhead Defense

Ladies and gentleman, this is a chowderhead. He lives on the planet Endor.

A stone cold killer was executed in Georgia and a small group of Moral Majority protestors are upset because the killer had an IQ of 69.

Hill was condemned for beating fellow inmate Joseph Handspike [ed: what a surname!] to death in August 1990. At the time, Hill was serving a life sentence for the 1985 shooting death of his 18-year-old girlfriend, Myra Wright.

Five thousand people signed a petition seeking to spare his life and it was presented to the state parole board, his lawyers said.

Hill’s supporters included former President Jimmy Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, the American Bar Association, the American Civil Liberties Union, the European Union and the Georgia chapter of the NAACP, according to his attorneys.

Core Americans.

Experts generally define mental disability as having a score of 70 or below on intelligence tests. Hill scored 69 on one intelligence test and in the 70s on others, according to court records.

He had the mental capacity of an 11-year-old, his attorney said.

In 1973, after the civil rights movement permanently clouded the minds of millions, the American Association on Mental Deficiency lowered the threshold for retardation from IQ < 85 to IQ < 70. The reason this was done was feels.

“This execution is an abomination,” Hill’s attorney, Brian Kammer, said in a statement. “The memory of Mr. Hill’s illegal execution will live on as a moral stain on the people of this State and on the courts that allowed this to happen.”

“Brian Kammer”.

As a moral principle, executing ultraviolent imbeciles is no more questionable than putting down a rabid animal. But if IQ is going to be a moral litmus test for liberals — and why wouldn’t it be, given the eagerness with which liberals embrace the concept of IQ — then anti-white knights for moronsters like Hill should acquaint themselves with the research (see above link) which shows race differences in the ability of the cognitively deficient to socially integrate with peers and adapt to everyday life.

To put it bluntly, a Warren Lee Hill with a 69 IQ will be more competent to stand trial and better able to understand the nature of his vile crimes than will a similarly mentally challenged killer with a privileged racial background.

Asshole Game Week: Jerkitude Under Pressure

Asshole Game Week: Day One is here.

Reader ‘Hackett To Bits’ summons the animating spirit of the Olympian god Prickicissus.

It feels good to find that different reality.

Me: 45 yo, (amicably) divorced
She: 23 yo waif/neurotic in the booty call zone

Some grousers are gonna say, “well, she isn’t interested in a relationship”, conveniently missing the point that hot booty call sex with a 23yo kitten beats the stuffing out of stuffing an aging beauty with relationship glue. Also missing the point that to get to a relationship, it helps to first be fucking the girl.

Recent text chat snippet:

Me: No one can resist jerk man
She: You’re not that cute.
Me: Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be
She: You’re overly confident and full of yourself
Me: Aww shucks
She: Point proven
Me: (emoticon wearing shades)

NO ONE has ever called me ‘overly confident’ before…oh I’m feeling it now.

You should be. Chicks dig overconfident men who act pleased as punch with themselves.

There are a lot of game concepts in play here. There’s the avoidance of defensiveness. “Doesn’t matter, jerk man doesn’t need to be” Agree&Amplify. “Aww shucks” And emoji game.

In a few short texts, Hackett conveyed a master class in jerkboy charisma game. This is the kind of uncaring asshole teasing that hot young women hungrily lap up. It’s not indicative of the extremes in assholery that a man can achieve, but it is within the sphere of behavior that characterizes smug prickitude, which is so tantalizing and arousing to women.

Asshole Game Week: Replacement Therapy

Welcome to Asshole Game Week, the evil twin of Relationship Game Week, in which Tales of Tingles Torqued are told as a lesson for the benighted. A warning to those who are faint of heart or tiny of testicle: This would be a good week to avoid visits to the Chateau. Buzzfeeder bromides and self-fellating Millennial feels are only one short click away for you!

Reader Reservoir Tip fires a brood-blocked, hamster-shocked, money shot to start off the celebrations for this week-long pagan holiday:

Funny story for you all:

Last night, I ended up in a little bit of a dilemma. I had two girls scheduled to come over at the same time, mainly because I was expecting one of them to flake. To my surprise, she didn’t.

I thought about bringing them both in and trying for the threesome, but decided against it. As girl one walks into my place, girl two texts me saying she’s arrived. I text girl two back and tell her that “the shit hit the fan” and that I can’t join her tonight. She’s pissed, and rightly so, really. What I pulled was pretty low, and definitely rude.

Nothing puts a lady in the mood like innuendo rude of a woman number two.

Regardless, I’m sitting around with girl one, doing a simple movie at my place, but she ends up being kind of a bitch, and we split after about an hour and a make out.

I text girl two back, “hey come over now.”

She comes right over and i boink her.

If your value is high enough, and the girl is horny enough, she’ll do anything, apparently.

Asshole dicktum #1: Always keep two in the kitty.

Asshole dicktum #2: Don’t apologize for being an asshole.

Asshole dicktum #3: Chicks dig a man with options, especially options that are intriguingly implied.

Asshole dicktum #4: Few women can resist a man with a well-honed sexual entitlement complex.

Asshole dicktum #5: Act like a high value man, and women will believe you’re a high value man.

Tomorrow: Increase the voltage.