Women’s Worst Enemies Are Other Women

The Jizzebel hokumguzzlers have built a retard empire on the fantastical premise that demonic men oppress angelic women, and that the end of such oppression would herald a femme utopia for land whales, skanks, proud sluts, transborgs, homonormatives, globular polyamorists, selfie-abusers and really cool smart chicks with pink hair who use the word “douchecanoe” a lot and think that makes them a member of the literati.

Except that, out here in the real world where the rubber hits the hole, it’s about as ass-backwards a belief as one can diligently nurture in the face of contradictory facts. If stepping outside the confines of the gloomy bedroom internet portal and listening to ♥science♥ hold any quarter with the self-delusion set, they would have to recant everything they profess, for the facts show that women are the worst enemies of women.

Who hurts women? Real rapists (as opposed to the phantasm of “regret rapists“) very infrequently hurt women. But the threat to women, as measured by battle effectiveness and sheer force of enemy number, is other women.

The rumor spreading, shunning and backstabbing of “mean girls” may be a relatively accurate picture of women’s social interactions, one researcher says.

Though both men and women use such indirect aggression in relationships, women use backbiting to demoralize competition and take sexual rivals out of the picture…

“Women do compete, and they can compete quite fiercely with one another,” said Tracy Vaillancourt, the paper’s author and a psychology professor at the University of Ottawa in Canada. “The form it typically takes is indirect aggression, because it has a low cost: The person [making the attack] doesn’t get injured. Oftentimes, the person’s motives aren’t detected, and yet it still inflicts harm against the person they’re aggressing against.”

Why do women choose the tactically lower risk method of indirect attacks? Because of the fundamental premise that acts like a brain virus upon everyone’s underlying psychology: women are biologically the more valuable sex.

That led Vaillancourt to hypothesize that the behavior is rooted in humans’ evolutionary past. But why would sneaky meanness have become so ingrained in the female repertoire?

In short, because mean girl aggression works so well.

Because of women’s role in childbearing and rearing, they are less expendable than men and couldn’t risk injury by settling disputes with their fists, said Anne Campbell, an evolutionary psychologist at Durham University in the United Kingdom, who was not involved in the work. Instead, social exclusion and talking behind someone’s back allowed women to work out conflicts without endangering their bodies.

This research lends support to the suspicion that the feminist zeal to cavalierly throw around the accusation of misogyny at men is really a classic case of psychological projection of their own states of mind. Or: only a real misogynist would impute misogyny to everyone else’s motives. You have to be one to know one, right ladies? Heh.

In related crimethoughts, those who drop the “raciss” accusation on the slimmest pretexts are likely themselves raving racists. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Not only does such cattiness make the targeted women too sad and anxious to compete in the sexual market, some studies suggest it can make men find rivals less attractive — provided the badmouthing comes from a cute woman, Vaillancourt said.

Yeah, that last part is the crucial condition. A fug badmouthing a hottie has about as much influence over a man’s judgment of female attractiveness as another man would. That is to say, none. What would be interesting to follow up on would be an experiment that examined the reactions of hotties and fugs to social ostracism by other women. My bet is that hotties can withstand female cattiness a lot better than can uglier women. Because hotties have constant feedback from men that their worth in the sexual market is unassailable.

Women often punish perceived sexual transgressions, Vaillancourt said. Studies in dozens of countries have found that women use indirect aggression against other women for being “too sexually available,” Vaillancourt said.

“It’s women who suppress other women’s sexuality,” because if sex is a resource, then more sexually promiscuous women lower the price of it, Vaillancourt told LiveScience.

Slut walk sloganeering notwithstanding to the cuntrary, most slut shamers are other women. Men may avoid sluts for marriage, but they won’t shame them. Why shame a snatch freebie from landing in your lap?

One way to avoid the most destructive effects of girls’ indirect aggression is to make sexual policing less powerful, Campbell said.

“We want to achieve a situation where that accusation [of promiscuity] had no power, where we don’t have that double sexual standard,” Campbell said. “But how we get there, I don’t know.”

Good luck with that. She may as well try to get humans to subsist on hemlock.

And women don’t compete over things they don’t value, Vaillancourt said. So women who put less emphasis on dating, or women who are past their sexual peak, are less likely to engage in mean girl behavior (at least over men).

The sexual market is the one market to rule them all.

So women backbite, backstab and fall back from attacking other women when the heat comes around the corner. That’s some RealTalk™ the Jizzebelers assiduously sweep under their gnarly rugs.

The fembot soul serrating doesn’t stop there. What other sins against women that feminists routinely accuse men of committing are committed by women in at least equal measure? Welp, how about objectification?

A new study has confirmed something women have been complaining about for years.

The research, out of the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and published in the Springer-published journal Sex Roles, essentially corroborates the belief that people tend to focus more on the breasts and figure of a woman when analyzing her appearance than they do on her face. […]

People tend to focus first on the important information about a woman.

Unsurprisingly, women with narrow waists, full breasts and larger hips – the classic hourglass figure – were rated more favorably than their less voluptuous counterparts, even when men were asked to assess a woman’s personality (rather than attractiveness) based on her appearance in the photos.

But perhaps what’s most interesting is that women also tended to objectify other females in the same way that men did. They, too, spent more time focusing on figure than face.

Can you believe the nerve of those men… hold up, wait a sec… hmm… those women objectifying women that way? Ugh, I can’t even… wow just wow… creepers!

Feminism will go down in history (along with her parent ideology equalism) as the stupidest potpourri of delusions ever propagated by a mass of degenerates sufficient in number and influence to dump their poison in the public’s ear. The Chateau stands ancient and true, thwarting the lords of lies at every point of attack.

“Generally speaking, people are more positive towards a more attractive woman than a less attractive one,” lead researcher Sarah Gervais said. “However, attractiveness may also be a liability, because while evaluating them positively, ‘gazers’ still focus less on individuating and personalizing features, such as faces, and more on the bodies of attractive women.”

There’s an important game concept tucked in the crevice of this quote. Can anyone find it?

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Answer: Thermal exhaust port. Hot women have weaknesses, primary among them the nagging fear that they’re only loved for their bodies. You, as an aspiring assaulter of the pink abyss, can exploit this point of id entry into the attractive female’s ego. Disqualify and challenge — “I only hang with women who have something going on for themselves besides their looks” — then assuage and connect — “I know people judge you on superficial stuff, and how tough that makes it for you to find someone who can connect with you on a deeper level. I get that”.

A cute girl’s ego is like a finicky vineyard. You must first coax the fruit to their exquisite ripeness by introducing slight stresses to the soil of her self-conception; you must avoid overwatering and over-fertilizing, which can cause the grape (ego) to become too plump and lacking in distinction; and finally, you must pluck her exercised ego at the perfect moment and turn it into a fine wine that she is eager to pour a glass of herself for you to appreciate. Chin chin.

Quote Of The Day: Atomized Wedges

i was on transit today and it seems like white people are getting less and less common. just disappearing. transit is like a microcosm of multiculturalism. dead eyed somalians sitting awkwardly next to old chinese ladies. nothing in common. aknowledging each other as mere objects. no sign of life. riding by ugly buildings with grey skies above.

Lifted shamelessly from a Reprobate Right outpost.

Alpha Of The Month: Porfirio Rubirosa

We learn what to emulate from the successes of alpha male womanizers as much as we learn what to avoid from the failures of beta male saps. Toady’s inspirational AOTM is Porfirio Rubirosa, a legendary slayer of snatch born in the Dominican Republic to an upper middle class (and from the looks of him, white European) family.

He bedded thousands of women, including such legendary beauties as Ava Gardner, Jayne Mansfield, Eva Peron and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Not only that, he married the two richest women in the world, first Doris Duke, then Barbara Hutton, and bedded another millionairess, Tina Onassis, as well as queens and countesses.

In the Forties and Fifties no high-society party or jet-set gathering was complete without him. But as the many women who wanted to possess him discovered to their cost, it was this Latin lover who always possessed them.

Preselected by women? Check.
Well-crafted identity? Check.
Chasee, rather than chaser? Check.
Used money to seduce women? Unchecked.

Porfirio Rubirosa — Rubi to his friends — was good-looking, although at 5ft 8in far from tall…

Male charm >>> male height. Judge for yourself if you think he’s good-looking:

Personally, I don’t see it. But then I’m no ‘mo, so most men look ugly to me. I suppose if you’re the bruised ego type who wants to believe only good-looking men get the ladies, you won’t be convinced that Rubirosa’s rise to poonhound fame was largely by virtue of his con and his charm. But keep in mind that the high society women he ran with had their pick of the world’s best-looking men, many of them far better looking than Porfirio, and yet they chose to surrender their bodies (and their fortunes) to this gnomic Latino. Obviously, he had something else going on for him than a devilish smile.

He never did a proper day’s work in his life — yet his success with women enabled him to mix with royalty and film stars, and own private jets, racing cars and polo ponies. He was charming, attentive and thoughtful, but prone to violent jealousy, graceless and utterly amoral.

Chicks dig charming, impulsively violent, sociopathic layabouts.

So what exactly was it that made Rubi the most desirable man on the planet, the man over whom the world’s richest heiresses competed?

The honored guests of Chateau Heartiste know. Let’s see if the Daily Mail knows.

Famously, his attraction lay not only in his mesmerising charm but his bedroom prowess — and his remarkable physical endowment. Along the Riviera and in the nightclubs of Paris and Manhattan, Rubi was known as ‘Toujours Pret’ — always ready — and the large peppermills in Parisian restaurants came to be known as ‘Rubirosas’ in homage his impressive appendage.

Yet, as a new biography makes clear, his rise to fame and riches was due as much to his ruthlessness as his virility. What distinguished him from other handsome young seducers was his astuteness, his ability to spot a vulnerable rich woman, to know the moment to strike and to make her feel desired and wanted.

Classic sneaky fucker (aka renegade alpha) game. He was not the accomplished, admired husband of a lonely trophy wife; he was the secret lover who traveled in shadow and brought promises of passion. His reputation as a great womanizer didn’t hurt him, either. Women can’t resist tempting the ardor of a known Lothario. It’s as if women love the feeling of getting burned, like a retarded child putting his hand near the flame again and again. Hurts so good.

Rubi had been unfaithful from the start of their marriage, but in Paris his womanising became relentless. If Flor [his first wife] remonstrated when he came home covered in lipstick, he would lash out with his fists.

Poon Commandment VIII: Never say you’re sorry.

Eventually she fled back home and they divorced. She later denigrated his sexual technique, complaining that he went on so long she grew bored. Nonetheless, for years after their divorce she continued to sleep with him whenever they met up.

😆 Chris Brown high-fived Porfirio.

Now jobless and penniless — Trujillo had sacked him from his job as ‘Inspector of Embassies’ — Rubi was in desperate need of money. When a jeweller he knew asked him to retrieve some jewels from Madrid, then in the midst of civil war, Rudi agreed.

But he returned with — he said — only some of the jewels, claiming that the rest, worth some $180,000, had been lost when his car was shot at in an ambush; an unlikely explanation, as the car bore no bullet holes. He had, of course, stolen them.

The temperament that compels cads to thieve jewels is the same temperament that so enraptures women. This is why chicks dig jerks *because* they’re jerks, not *despite* their jerkiness.

Rubi further enriched himself by selling Dominican visas at inflated prices to Jews wishing to flee Nazi persecution as war loomed in Europe.

Chicks also dig a man who enriches himself, no matter how unethically. (I doubt Rubi was the kind of reflective man to make pained efforts to justify his actions as a karmic con of a con.)

With his newfound wealth, he had a nose job (he had always hated his broad nose). The best barber in Paris cut his hair, and the best tailor made his suits. His bespoke underpants were shipped over from London’s Jermyn Street and his shoes were handmade.

Bespoke underpants. The master seducer leaves no detail unattended.

He was even restored to his diplomatic post after Trujillo came to Paris and Rubi introduced him to the seamier side of Parisian nightlife, acting as Trujillo’s pimp, to the dictator’s delight.

Beta males are hounded for minor trangressions. Alpha males are quickly forgiven the worst sins.

‘Be careful, this man is dangerous,’ warned the hostess, but within weeks Danielle had left her husband for him.

The most melodious words a man can hear from a beautiful women are not “I love you”. They are “Be careful this man is dangerous.”

Doris [Duke] was the richest woman in the world, heiress to the American Tobacco fortune and worth a staggering $100 million. She had become a journalist following the collapse of her first marriage — her husband had been unable to accommodate her sexually. Rubi had no such difficulties. ‘His purpose was to satisfy women,’ Doris later recalled, and he achieved it with distinction.

Haters who whine that game is tantamount to doing a woman’s bidding should acquaint themselves with Porfirio, the man whose “purpose was to satisfy women.” Whose life would you rather have? A celibate’s who has gone his own way? Or a playboy’s who relishes the pleasure of women’s company?

Rubi’s flagrant infidelity upset Doris, while he chafed at her imperious ways: once, in Cannes, she sent him down to a hotel lobby to fetch some cigarettes. Her ran into an old girlfriend and did not return for three days.

Doris sought to secure his love with extravagant gifts: a townhouse in Paris, a stable full of polo ponies, several sports cars and even a converted B25 bomber.

Beta males buy women’s love and intimacy and call it a victory. Alpha males run into old girlfriends, disappear for days on high sexual adventure, and return to have magnificent gifts lavished them by the women they jilted.

What specific game tactics did Rubi use?

His seduction technique could be crude: seated next to a beautiful woman at dinner, he would take her hand and place it on his lap to show her just how exciting he found her.

Massive kino escalation.

At other times he was more romantic. When he met the film star Zsa Zsa Gabor in a New York hotel, she was married to her third husband George Sanders, a handsome but violently jealous actor. Undeterred, Rubi had her suite filled with red roses. Zsa Zsa invited him into bed and was hooked.

Unpredictability is king. So is knowing your mark’s weaknesses.

Rubi frequently hit her, once blacking her eye just before she was due on stage, but still she found him irresistible, describing him as a ‘sickness’.

Women are aware, on some primal level, that their attraction for the baddest badboys is a sickness to which they can’t help but succumb. Women, in their uncontrollable servitude, loathe the machinations of their own tingles.

Rubi saw a solution to his money problems and set about wooing her, serenading her with a band outside her bedroom window. The fact he had previously been married to her friend and rival Doris Duke made Barbara determined to have him, too. Months later, in December 1953, he had become her fifth husband and she his fourth wife.

Women are natural rivals, at each others’ throats not with daggers, but with innuendo and whisperings. Master seducers exploit this reality about the fairer sex.

Like Doris Duke, Barbara showered him with gifts including an estate in the Dominican Republic and another B25 plane, but he continued to humiliate her with his infidelity and cruelty.

Chicks dig a man who is a challenge. Women don’t want to gaily traipse over your dreary flatlands; they want to strain climbing your rugged mountain peak.

One night, at a dinner party, she punched him and walked out. Rubi merely shrugged, then flew off to join Zsa Zsa Gabor.

Aloof indifference. It’s an acid bath to a woman’s defenses.

The marriage was over: it had lasted a mere three months, but once again left Rubi considerably richer.

What man wouldn’t love to have this guy’s life? Garish pussy buffet, bestowed riches after every bedroom conquest.

until in Paris in 1956, aged 47, he met a pretty 19-year-old actress named Odile Rodin.

‘I’ve heard much about you, Monsieur,’ she told him. ‘None of it good.’ But like all the others, her resistance soon crumbled and before long they were lovers, then were married.

“I’ve heard much about you… none of it good.” The second best thing a man can hear from a beautiful woman.

But if he had finally found a girl who could tame him, it was too late. In 1965, after drinking all night at the nightclub Jimmy’s in celebration of a polo win, Rubi drove home at 7am and crashed his Ferrari into a tree. The steering column crushed his chest and he died on the way to hospital.

He was 56. He had lived and died fast. After nearly four decades of partying, he had little to show for his life. He had never had children — despite his virility, he was sterile — and had spent all the money he acquired.

So sad. And yet, the memories Porfirio carries with him to his afterlife are the same memories that a typical, play-by-the-rules, dutiful beta male who married one woman and bore three kids brings to his afterlife: None. When the cosmic tally is taken of each man’s life, the only difference will be in how they lived while they were alive. And on that account, Porfirio lived a hell of a lot more than the niceguy office drone who rejoiced when his chubby wife relented and gave him a birthday BJ.

Flirting Trumps Looks

Are you an incorrigible flirt? Because if you’re not, you should be. ♥Science♥ has discovered that flirting trumps looks as a courtship strategy for getting laid and getting loved.

Does flirting actually work?

Very much so. In fact, research says it’s more effective than looking good.

Signaling availability and interest trumps attractiveness.

Dr. Monica Moore, a psychologist at Webster University in St. Louis, has conducted research on the flirting techniques used in singles bars, shopping malls, and places young people go to meet each other.

She concluded that it’s not the most physically appealing people who get approached, but the ones who signal their availability and confidence through basic flirting techniques like eye contact and smiles.

“Flirting” is really the old school term for “game”. If you had to describe the panoply of game techniques and strategies in one everyday word, “flirting” would fit. Charismatic flirting, that is. There’s good and bad flirting, and the thrust of game is to teach men how to flirt well.

What type of flirting works best?

Two types of flirting are universal: smiling and eye contact are indicators pretty much everywhere and work for both sexes.

A classic beta male tell is an inability to hold eye contact to the point of tantalizing discomfort.

But what works better than anything else?

Touching.

And research has isolated which types of touching are regarded as “merely friendly”, in the zone of “plausible deniability”, or “going nuclear.”

Another game principle victoriously vindicated.

• Friendly: Shoulder push, shoulder tap, handshake.
• Plausible Deniability: Touch around the shoulder or waist, touch on the forearm.
• Nuclear: Face touch.

The behavior that participants rated as reflecting the most flirtation and the most romantic attraction was the soft face touch, followed by the touch around the shoulder or waist, and then the soft touch on the forearm.

The least flirtatious and romantic touches were the shoulder push, shoulder tap, and handshake. Thus, touching that is gentle and informal, and that occurs face-to-face or involves “hugging” behavior, appears to convey the most relational intent.

You gotta love science that points up a glaring disconnect between what turns on women in the real world (presumptuous touching) and what rabid feminist cunts shriek is evidence of an oppressive OMG RAPE!! culture as envisioned in the fever swamps of their twisted fantasies.

The effectiveness of flirting is somewhat context-dependent.

Behavior is perceived differently in different locations. The more formal the setting, the more obvious you need to be to get the signal across.

Via The Mating Game: A Primer on Love, Sex, and Marriage:

For each scenario, participants indicated whether they believed the stranger was flirting with them or not. The results revealed significantly higher percentages of “yes” (i.e., flirting) responses when the stranger was in the restaurant bar as opposed to the school hallway (61% vs. 49%)…

Daygame players take heed. You’ll have to amp your flirting level when hitting on girls during the daytime, outdoors. Otherwise, she might not take the hint.

Here’s some more juicy research which shows that, for men, their social dominance is more important than their looks when attracting a mate.

Research has shown that flirting which emphasizes physical attractiveness has little effect when males do it.

The flirting that is most effective for men involves displays of social dominance.

Via Close Relationships:

The results indicated that the men who successfully initiated romantic contact with women exhibited a greater number of particular kinds of nonverbal flirting behavior than men who did not establish romantic contact. Specifically, successful men directed more brief glances at their intended, engaged in a greater number of “space maximization” movements (positioning the body so that it takes up more space; e.g., extending one arm across an adjacent chair, stretching so that both arms extend straight up in the air), changed their location in the bar more frequently, and displayed greater amounts of non-reciprocated touching to surrounding men (e.g., playfully shoving, touching, or elbowing the ribs of other men).

In discussing their findings, the researchers concluded that men who provide signals of their positive intentions (e.g., through glancing behaviors) and their status (e.g., through space maximization and non-reciprocated touch of male peers) receive preferential attention from women.

Readers often ask, “How do you square the advice to communicate intention with the seemingly contradictory advice to appear disinterested?” Well, this is how. You demonstrate “active disinterest”. Bold players show intention, but they also signal their status through displays of dominance that are often proxies for communicating an attitude of outcome independence.

And how do you know if you’re spitting tight game?

How do you know if it’s working? When you start talking to her, ask yourself: “Is she speaking smoothly and quickly?”

Because MIT research says that’s a very good sign.

Fast talking is low status. A girl who is in the lower status position is a girl who is in thrall to your higher status male allure.

Beta males often complain that women never notice their interest. One reason might be because beta males really aren’t good at subcommunicating their sexual intention.

Researchers have documented a bias where people think they’re being clear about their intentions but, in reality, nobody but them thinks they’re flirting.

Via The Mating Game: A Primer on Love, Sex, and Marriage:

A more recent series of investigations by Vorauer and her colleagues (Vorauer, Cameron, Holmes, & Pearce, 2003) demonstrated that the fear of being rejected by a potential partner can produce yet another pernicious attributional bias.

The “signal amplification bias” occurs when people believe that their social overtures communicate more romantic interest to potential partners than is actually the case and thus fail to realize that they have not adequately conveyed their feelings of attraction.

You may need to amp it up, even if that makes you a bit uncomfortable.

Fear is the mindkiller. Fear of rejection is the lovekiller. Alpha males have less fear of rejection because they operate from a mentality of abundance, (“No worries, if I don’t get her, there are plenty more waiting for the pleasure of my company”). This abundance mentality is honed from years of experience dealing with women. Beta males, in sorry contrast, have less experience with women, and so each potential rejection in the field matters a lot more to them. They approach women with a scarcity mentality, and this results in an excessive concern for appearing “too forward”, lest the beta male provoke the wrath of his idolized object of deference. The alpha male doesn’t give a crap about provoking wrath; in fact, he welcomes it, as the cascading drama gives him an opportunity to display his sexy bona fides.

♥Science♥ has now proven the efficacy of Poon Commandment XIII: Err on the side of too much boldness, rather than too little. Beta males new to the game must first unlearn decades of bad habits by striving to be acutely aware of how poorly their tepid flirtations are received by women. To succeed, the beta male must commit himself to reaching beyond the comfy boundaries of his beta bubble. He has to be ready to provoke romantic rejection, and in the so doing will achieve, paradoxically, more love in his life.

That Sinking Feeling

Stomach dropping. A pressing, radiating hollowing on the innerside of your solar plexus. Eyes widening to surprise-shaped orbs, drinking in threat. Face burning with bloodrush. Clammy hands, racing brain.

If you’ve ever lost a girl’s attention to another man, you know that feeling. It could be a first date who unexpectedly sing-songs an encomium about some guy who’s been on her mind, or a girlfriend you’ve started dating whose eyes dart around the room checking out other men as if you’re blind and can’t notice her distraction, or a more established girlfriend who betrays a wobbliness of the knees and a yearning in the voice when an ex-boyfriend joins your company.

You’re losing her, and that sinking feeling is your bioalert system letting you know she’s slip slip slippin away.

What do you do? When it happens, the advice from players with icy game in their veins is usually a variant of the following:

– Flirt with another girl. Act indifferent. You demonstrate high mate value by maintaining state control and refusing to get flustered by the imminent threat of another man or your woman’s emotional straying. Re-establish your attractiveness by signaling preselection from other women, and unlimited options which you threaten to act upon.

In other words, make her come back to you, like an iron filling to a magnet.*

This advice is given because it works. No doubt about that. But the problem is that certain conditions are needed for practical application of the advice. One, you need other single women around with whom to tactically flirt. Two, you have to be a borderline psychopath to be able to remain so coldly unaffected by the whirlwind of emotions emanating from your limbic engine room. That kind of eerily cold indifference to romantic outcome is either innate, or developed from years of profligate poon plunder.

Most regular guys don’t have years of poon plunder under their belts. And most of the time you’re out with a girl, there won’t be readily available single women within eyesight to welcome your counter-attack flirtations. You will be left with your date/girlfriend, her roaming eyes, and your sinking feeling, and that’s it. So, what now?

I’m about to give the best piece of advice you’ll ever hear on this subject. Advice that’s worked for me when I most needed it. Here it is. When you feel that sinking feeling:

Leave.

Don’t even tell her you’re going. Simply walk out. This is the best… BY FAR the best… method for maintaining your aloof indifference in the face of reproductive annihilation. Get away from the negative stimulus that is impossible for you to properly manage, and you won’t be there to announce your beta insecurity to the world. Leaving in a flash has a second benefit: It frightens your woman. It fills her with the fear that you might skip out on her for good, to cash your higher value mate chips in at a better paying table.

Now this won’t always work — she might stay behind and wind up making out with someone else; but if that happens, she was never close to being your woman, so you saved yourself wasted investment — but when it does work, it works like a MOAB. Plus, you get to enjoy the wonderful, if temporary, feeling of taking the manly initiative and salvaging your dignity.

In the latter scenario, she’ll come running out, sooner or later, maybe the next day, hurling invective, demanding explanation. This is not the time to express the pain of your romantic disappointment like a lovesick beta. Drive the id shiv in a little further, with a twist of ambivalence: “I felt like going. Do you want me to slap on a GPS monitor so you can track my whereabouts?”

Chaser-chasee roles… INVERTED.

Reward good behavior intermittently, punish bad behavior promptly.

Her company should now improve. But if it doesn’t you have the luxury of timing the release of your disappointment with her behavior during happy moments when she least expects your ire, and when your state control is set to Maximum Aloofness. There’s nothing so psychosocially exhilarating as catching a woman off-guard; it’s similar to how a curse is more effective when you lull your foe into complacence with calm rebuke and then drop the soulsmashing insult at the very end.

*Some players recommend calling a girl out when she mentally strays, sort of an agree & amplify of an unspoken context. For example, “Hey, eyes over here you crazy slut. At least wait until I’m gone before you throw yourself at another man.” CH does not agree with this strategy. It sounds workable on paper, but the reality is quite different; you’re more likely to come across butt-hurt than bemused.

Comment Of The Week: Sophisticated Balderdash

n/a lyrically reminds the arriviste audience that an old chestnut is just as moldy when a man serves it up on a platter and calls it the main course.

Amused by this thread and its arriviste assumption that ladies with a few more rings in the trunk and some rather shocking sun-damage from their salad days in St. Barts are somehow more “sophisticated” than a sweet pink baby in her last year of high school: the notion is even more comical than it is wrong.

There is no “intellectual” badinage much less intelligent conversation with a woman who is still worth fucking; of all the cliches of romance none better suits the vanity of women and the hard to dispel starry-eyed stupidity of men than the laughable idea that there exist magical hags smarter, more spirited and altogether better at desiccated 40 than they were at moist 20. This is an amazing delusion and a quintessential trope – and tell – of the diehard beta.

The question to ask the woman duly and dully decked in her “Chanel” and knockoff Louboutins is do you have a pretty and naughty daughter? There are indeed rich and bored women who will be anything but displeased to entertain such a question after a few oily martinis and then, and only then, does the hard mug of the accomplished bitch take on the warm glow of lechery. Do not press the issue. Let it scent the air.

This comes close to a perfectly crafted comment, in both substance and delivery. Men who, by dint of limited options, choose to extol the “sophistication” and “worldliness” of the wealthy middle-aged cougar are revealing a classic handicapped SMV tell: that of the man who can’t do any better. It’s the inverse of sour grapes; instead of falsely claiming the sourness of a ripe grape out of reach high on the vine, one insists on the sweetness of a rotting fruit within reach on the ground.

The supposed sophistication of the well-to-do cougar is nothing next to the firm rump, smooth skin and pert tits of the minimum wage 20-year-old barista. Nothing. All the cougarly sophistication cubed will never approach the exponential allure of one evanescent smile from a pretty young babe. And this chaps the hides of the men who are trapped in the cougar pen as much as it does of the defeminized fading trophy harridans who sprinkle their aging flesh with shiny brand name baubles and fuel their egos on the fumes of vaporous entitlement.

The great joke of this charade is that older women aren’t even the paragons of sophistication they and their beta handlers like to claim. Wit is the province of the smart, and smarts are in full evidence by the early 20s. Fluid intelligence declines after the youthful 20s, further degrading the smart woman’s chattering legerdemain. Intellectualism, too, is not age-dependent once past the early neural formative years. The young intellectual woman has at least the advantage of being fun and sprightly along with her occasional bursts of deep thought. The smart cougar is well-versed… and tired.

Even a more generous interpretation of sophistication as a term meaning wisdom is not the boon for the cougar’s self-conception she, or her lovers, think. A wisdom borne of experience riding the cock carousel is a knowingness most men find unpalatable in a romantic partner. Yes, the cougar “knows what she wants in a man”, but what benefit is that to any man in serious contention for her crumbling facade? Perhaps the man she chooses can feel good that, after she has had a spell sampling the boner buffet, the wizened lady honored his pig in a blanket with Best In Show. But that’s like winning a trophy for running the mile in 42 minutes; he is left to wonder just how bad the competition must have been.

No, what a man wants, when he’s alone with his thoughts and he can feel the natural pulse of his viscera, is a young, beautiful woman with a lifetime of reproductive residual value ahead of her. And, knowing what a prize she is, his pride upon winning her will be genuine.

Alpha Male Halloween Costumes

It’s that time of year. Secularized America’s new number one holiday demands your careful consideration. As a man, you have one job every Halloween: dress in a costume that tells the world an alpha male is hiding underneath.

Rule #1: Don’t do “couples costumes”. Actually, that’s the only rule. Not only are couples costumes betatizing, they’re dorkifying. If you insist on doing a couples costume, make sure it’s a) something totally demeaning to polite company:

or b) something super sexy that leaves you with a semi all night:

In the above couples costume scenario, you’d be the guy holding the scissors to a piece of her tape. “hold this thread as i walk away… as i walk awaaay!…”

If the very limited selection of acceptable couples costumes isn’t your thing, you can go the conventional alpha male costume route:

Or, for you renegade alphas who love to both follow orders and break rules:

But the best alpha male costume is one I saw many years ago, if by “alpha male costume” we mean a costume that attracts battalions of beautiful babies. That is, after all, what alpha male is supposed to signify, right? A man of irresistible allure to women. Or, in this specific case, a costume that imbues a man with irresistible allure. Drumroll please….

CONTRAST IS KING!

Yeah, that’s it above. The most alpha male costume I ever saw, judging by the number of giggling women gathered round to admire and caress him, was a muscular guy wearing nothing but an over-sized diaper and baby bonnet, holding a rattle.

Talk about baby balls.

WARNING: Do NOT try this if you’re a soft, pasty, herbaceous manboob. It only works if there’s a contrast between the baby costume and your natural virile masculinity. This means if you look like John Scalzi, wearing a diaper will freak people out who might mistake you for some weird sexual pervert who strayed from his masturbatorium. Yes, even on Halloween.

Since we’re on the subject of diapers, it would be a tremendous alpha male coup if you could manage to dress up as the Engineer from Prometheus.

CH: “No body suit required.” 😉