Comment Of The Week: The 16 Commandments Of Pajamaboy

Reader Charlie Don’t Surf waxed poetical and quasi-biblical,

16 Commandments of Pajamaboy:

First off, I love you
I’ll never look at another woman
You’re my everything
I’ll do anything you say
I’ll do double for you
This is exactly how I feel
You’re my one and only
I’m sorry – I’m sorry – I’m sorry
I won’t play with your emotions
You’re beauty is awe inspiring
I’m so unsure of myself
I’m not good at anything
Best we take it slow
That’s all I got … I’ll get you a towel
You’re my master
If you leave – I’m going to die.

Coming Soon to a marital bathhouse near you: The Wreck of the Pajamaboy Cuckold.

(bring a tissue, because this one is an emotionally charged tearjerker!)

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First COTW Runner-up is Scray, presenting for your delectation a how-to guide for manipulating gossip whores to your personal advantage,

I’m pretty sure that the greatest, best contrast game to master is ‘snake in the grass’ beta imitation game. Promise commitment, flowers, etc. up until the bang. Then proceed to go full asshole. I would think that this would maximize a man’s short-term mate quality.

If it gets back around to me — and I fucking hope it’s a girl who asks — “oh yeah, I really wanted to give her everything….but she just wasn’t ready.” My word against hers. And since a) girls LOVE fucking over their friends and b) girls are also jealous of their friends and likely to believe the worst….and c) because the girl is better looking than me, so the scenario likely has played out this way before…the chances of me coming out smelling like a rose seem pretty high. Not to mention having a shot at the friend, now.

Leverage women’s natural dispensation to backstab other women to your advantage, i.e., “muddy the estrogenic waters”. A helpful reminder: A lot of naturals are really as malign as evidenced in the ploy above. But they don’t put their machinations to pen on internet forums, or, really, think much at all about their actions. Plausible deniability is king of kings.

We discuss what works here, not necessarily what’s righteous in the eyes of the Chateau Overlord. “He said, she said” can backfire, though, especially if the “He” is a dude most women would automatically distrust. So I wouldn’t classify it as any sort of tried-and-true Game technique; it’s just an old-fashioned lie that can occasionally pay big dividends (if you don’t care about the long-term fallout).

***

Second COTW Runner-up is none other than that flatus of nature known as da GBFM,

loxoxozozzzozooz

wheneverd da GBFM see his twelve inch lotoattss cockas againstz her milky white skin and blond puzuzyyzyzyzyzyz, dat is high contrast game!!! zllzlzzzo

Finally figured it out. The lozzololzzzlol is GBFM motorboating.

When The Wall Comes Rising Into View

A sad woman left the following comment (scroll down) to a post about an OkCupid experiment in dating profiles which CH covered in detail here.

An even more insightful “study” would be to do the same thing but use people of similar attractiveness but different ages. I am in my 40’s and I receive virtually no messages. I did the Match thing for six months and sent over 200 messages, all of which were “custom” to the guy I was contacting. I can’t stand cut and paste emails, not to mention they’re obviously cut and paste. I got fewer than 10 responses. In six months. What I have taken away from this whole experience is if you’re female and your age starts with a number equal to or higher than 4 (I’m 45) it is not going to be a great experience. And if, like me, you’re tall (5’11″) it’s going to be even worse.

Dating sites exist to make a profit, and that means by necessity and in accord with the nature of their market and consumer sentiment they must push a silo full of pretty lies. If they were to come out and say “ugly, fat and older women and boring, poor and loser men need not apply”, that would cut into revenues. And probably provoke an idiotic discrimination lawsuit which serves the betterment of absolutely nothing.

So dating sites package their pretty lies in pabulum like “customization” and “29 dimensions of compatibility to find your perfect match” that specifically ping the hopefulness radars of lovelorn women and the men who follow where those women go. Keep hope alive, because when you can’t find a date in the real world, hope is all you have left.

Never are the inherent limitations of online dating sites more apparent than when the eFallacy marketing fluff meets the massive edifice of the Wall. The Splat Protocol is that event horizon when aging beauties become like the beta males they ignored in their youth, now reduced to spending hours and hours working feverishly on their arid, online dating profiles only to be rewarded with crumbs of lackluster attention from those very same men.

The lesson here is that cultural leverage in whatever form has to be brought to bear on the inflated egos and runaway narcissism of American women to guide them to wise life decisions. This wisdom would include reminders to settle down young while they still have the glow of natural rosiness in the cheeks, and warnings against imagining internet dating is some kind of reprieve from the merciless judgment of the God of Biomechanics.

when the wall… comes rising into view
when the wall… comes closing in on you
when the wall… is looming all arouuuund
– Jane “Cougar” Mellentramp

UPDATE

Commenter Wrecked ‘Em (rectum? I nearly wrecked em!) writes,

And on the flip side, 50 y.o. friend changed his match profile to imply that he looks younger than his age, has younger friends, that women his age can’t hang, and finally listed his real income, which is over match’s top spot of $150k/yr… then dropped his minimum age on “looking for” to 28.

He then proceeded to like photos and favorite plenty of women in the 28-32 age range, wholly ignoring what age of man they were supposedly interested in. Based on the response he’s seen thus far his new theory is that the hotter the girl is the more likely she’ll respond. He’s swimming in it after only a week of this.

Given compensatory attributes (game, wealth, looks, overconfidence, preselection by younger women/friends), a man can easily date women significantly younger than himself. Women, in contrast, have little ability to compensate for their aging.

The Wall comes to all, but men have the option to outflank it for a while. Women can only watch in horror as it bears down on them.

Jerkboy Charisma Game, A Series

Following on the heels of archival microfiche documenting the efficacy of jerkboy charisma game in the textual wild, comes this from a reader,

I’m always amazed by how right you are with your text game advice.

One of my areas of weakness had always been my text game.  6 months after reading your blog this shit is happening.  She’s the gray and I’m the green below.  Thanks man!

Attached was this screenshot of a text word count ratio that looks very favorable for the man.

Harkening to the previous post, the take-home lesson here is not the specific wording he used in his reply, but the game concepts he upheld. In this instance, he “pushed” her away by ignoring her plea, teased her by promptly offering to watch a show she didn’t want to watch, and then “assumed the sale” by not bothering to wait for her response before suggesting — no, commanding — she meet him at his stated time.

Also beside the point are complaints that this isn’t game because “she already knows him”. Look folks, game never stops, because women’s sexual psychologies never stop functioning. You think just because some girl previously agreed to a date with you that that means you can stop acting like the charming bastardo you unloaded on her the first go-round?

Naturally, differences in the structure of your game will accompany the type of relationship you have with the woman in question. Most notably, if you and her just met in a crowded noisy venue, you’ll have to be more aggressive and intentional to seal the deal and avoid any misconstrual that you’re a boring beta or a seeker of asexual friendship. If you have known her for a few dates and a sexual or romantic relationship has yet to be nailed down to your satisfaction, then an air of relaxed aloofness will assume a larger role in your game. If you have been banging her for six months, and she’s hooked, then you’ll want to solidify the relationship (if that’s your goal) with more displays of beta provisioning.

The Universality Of Game Concepts

Neophytes who have stumbled into discussions about game gently but persistently have their doubts allayed as the picture of human sexual dynamics becomes clearer, but one skeptics’ framework remains difficult to dislodge, and that is the belief that game is contextual, and that what will work for one man won’t necessarily work for another.

But this superficially plausible belief relies on a misunderstanding of the nature of game. Skeptics often wrongly conflate the idea of “pickup lines” with the plethora of techniques that constitute the discipline of “game”. They envision a world where specific lines substitute for conceptual knowledge and holistic mastery, and from this faulty premise criticize targeted tactics as unsuitable for this or that kind of man.

But without a grasp of the concepts, the quotable lines will never be more than parlor tricks with which newbs can trip themselves up and ignoramuses can spotlight into easily digestible soundbites for the amusement of their loser audience. One must learn the game concepts and the overarching strategy before applying the pointed techniques, or risk babbling incongruent nonsense severed from situational demands.

Commenter YaReally elegantly explains this universality of game concepts and the confusion that leads to the common misperception by students and hecklers of game that only a subset of men can benefit from game.

For ME, [this line, “there’s no reason to go blow $20 on drinks, you could get a lapdance for that lol”] works because it’s congruent to me. I set the frame early on of being the type of guy who would think in those terms. Bob the harmless nice guy from Accouting saying it would get blown out. Russell Brand or Tommy Lee wouldn’t.

This is why I don’t give a lot of word for word examples of my game and just explain the concepts/structure behind them instead. Not a lot of guys, esp who are just starting out learning, would be able to congruently say the things I say. But at the same time, the words themselves are irrelevant…the concepts/structure are what cause attraction.

My push/tease/disqualifier might be “sorry I don’t fuck ugly chicks. But come back when I’m done with this beer and you’re blurry.” Whereas Bob from Accounting might push/tease/disqualify with “sorry you’re not my type, I don’t like high-maintenance women.”

Both versions would cause the girl to go “omg!!” and qualify themselves, because it’s the concepts/structure that’s key.

Someone new to game will say, “Ah, the crass beer goggles line is the ticket to endless poon!” without realizing that the game is not the line, but instead is, as YaReally stated, the underlying concept of “push/tease/disqualify”.

Bob from Accounting would likely get blown out if he spit a line that called a girl ugly, and then Bob would go home and squat in his masturbatorium, railing online about how game is a lie and everyone who writes about it is a huckster. But if Bob was a wiser man with a more temperate disposition, he would return to the well of game knowledge and discover that women autonomically respond less to the precise semantical schemata than to the subconscious cues of being pushed away, teased, and shrewdly disqualified as potential sexual partners.

Bob would then realize that the push/tease/disqualify game concept is valid, but he needs to apply the concept with an eye toward congruency with his personal vibe and presence, and in conjunction with environmental constraints. So the next time Bob ventures out, he tells a woman she’s “not his type”, because she’s “too high maintenance”, and like magic he’s getting a better response.

The game concepts don’t change; the expression of the concepts change. If you were a car salesman, would you sell a Porsche the same way you sell a Honda? Of course not. But the psychological triggers that you use to get people to buy are the same. That’s the fundamental truth of game, only you’re selling yourself instead of a car.

President Of The United States, Barack Hussein Obama, Continues Lying About The Sex Wage Gap Myth

The question put before us, gentlemen, is why the President of the United States, Barack Hussein Obama, lies about the sex wage gap and the nature of its origin and scope, as he recently did during his State of the Union address, and in so doing assists in propelling it further into the media narrative as the nefarious plotting of boogymen misogynists, when an obscene preponderance of evidence exists in the literature on the subject disproving any favored notion that the sex wage gap is caused by male discrimination or similar hobbyhorses of the cackling feminist collective.

Gentlemen, ignorance of the facts is no excuse for propagating lies and stupidity, particularly when those lies cause real suffering to segments of the population, but willful ignorance is especially inexcusable in the President of the United States of America, Barack Hussein Obama. Of all men, he should know best the power of lies from a public representative to contort opinion and sacralize injustice against political enemies. Of men of station, he is most keenly aware of the truth and the requisite need to seek it, and so his insistence on spreading bald lies is all the more malevolent, coming as it does from a fount of spite and ill-will rather than a forgivable foolishness usually characteristic of the lower classes.

Why does President Barack Hussein Obama lie, then? More importantly, how can we, the assembled, end his reign of lies? You gather here, under the stone carapace of this haunt, to discuss just these weighty matters. Intimations of revolt whisper in the halls. Mutterings of secession, even civil war, trickle like condensation from winter windows. A slow heating rage, its potency strengthened by patient superintendence, arcs like static electricity on the deep pile rugs.

The verdict is unchallenged. President Barack Hussein Obama is a willful liar. He lies with breathtaking expediency and has as little concern for the truth as suits his political calculations or personal pique. He is aided in his mendacity by coteries of lickspittles and an opposition, such as it is, of cowards. Any hope that the light of truth might penetrate the hardened bunker of the current administration and its houses of sniveling, ineffectual partisans must be abandoned. The truth rarely glides to prominence on the feathered wings of angels. Instead, it drips from the bloody edge of swords.

Picky Men

The alt-internet is a strange land where you can find people who appear to have lived in a hermetically sealed Tyvek bubble since birth, and have escaped all interaction with reality. A recent example of this reality-cushioned subspecies is the obligate sperg — male or female — who believes, with absolutely no supporting evidence beside the whispers her hamster breathes into her brain ear, that men exercise no discretion when choosing a mate.

You’ll see this type litter comment sections of blogs whenever the discussion turns, however tangentially, to the horrifying and bowel-shaking notion that men actually prefer to bang and commit to prettier women at the expense of uglier women, and that this preference likely contributed to the evolution of beauty in women, particularly the women of certain races. On the Ugly Truth scale, mentioning that in medicated company is the equivalent of casually noting the vast (and increasingly puzzling, based on current performance) overrepresentation in elite institutions of 2% of the population.

But as anyone who has lived a day in his life knows, men are choosy. (I’m looking at you, Satoshi Kanazawa.) Go to a bar or a nightclub and AMAZE YOURSELF at the sight of so many men gunning for the attention of best in show, and how that best in show as judged by men are, PECULIARLY, often the same three girls. And then notice to your UTTER STUPEFACTION how so many men ignore the overtures of the less attractive girls, even at closing time when, legend has it, men become sex-hungry dogs incapable of controlling their impulses.

No, men are not dogs. Men are discerning dogs. Yes, men like to hump, but they do so with an eye for quality. Male choosiness is real, and while it’s not the equivalent of female choosiness in breadth or intensity, it exists, and it has likely shaped who we are today, and how our women look today. Intriguingly, there have been environments in the distant past when the sex ratio was so skewed by premature male deaths that the few lucky men left alive had a bounty of mate options that would seem incomprehensible to most men alive today, save for the über famous or obscenely wealthy. And since men, almost to the exclusion of all other considerations, prefer sex with hotter women to sex with plainer women, it’s a small logical leap to infer that, given favorable sexual market conditions, men will choose to fuck more often, and more vigorously, the prettiest of women from among all the women. And from that, men will choose to invest their resources in those prettier women, ensuring that their children have a survival advantage over the children of uglier women.

Rinse with sperm and repeat for a thousand years, and you’ve got a race of women who look as if they’ve been touched by the chisel of God.

And the male impulse toward polygyny needn’t be dismissed out of hand for this to work. Simply impose environmental constraints on the amount of resources any one man can amass and thus distribute among multiple women, and he will be nudged in the direction of favoring with his cooperation and sexual gift only those women who most stiffen his splitter. Even a small nudge in this direction can produce massive long-term generational change in the looks of women. An alpha male in possession of a few extra furs and stores of winter grain, who services, say, four women, will plow harder, and plow more often, the best looking of his harem. Over time, and patterned similarly among other men like him, this targeted ardor will lead to differentials in reproductive fitness between the women.

But enough of the theorizing. You don’t need computational geneticists to prove to you what your own eyes can see any night in a crowded bar. So get the hell out of your lala land, internet sperg, and join the human race. You might learn a thing or two.

“The Wreck Of The Beta Male Cuckold”, Performed

An inspired reader has put to song The Wreck of the Beta Male Cuckold.