Are Messy Girls Easier Lays?

Reader “Trajan” opines:

You tweeted about sexual excitement lowering a women’s disgust reflex. Is there a corollary, that a women with a lower disgust reflex has a higher sex drive? More masculine perhaps. Anecdotally, chicks with messy bedrooms are easier lays than ones with well-organized bedrooms.

Female messiness — of her bedroom, her bathroom, her car, her finances, her thoughts — is a leading indicator of sexual looseness. Beam with expectant joy and grab your tumescent pride when you step into a girl’s roomful of clutter, because you, my friend, are about to rocket down orgasmic highways of limitless pleasure.

In my personal experience, there’s no doubt that messy girls are good to go. They love sex, and they love it sooner rather than later. The myth that clean freaks have a lot of repressed sexuality that will rain down on you once unleashed by some psychological schism is just that: a myth. Maybe they have repressed sexuality, but why would you want to volunteer your valuable time and energy coaxing it out of them? Skip the therapeutic endless foreplay required by anal annies and head straight for the sloppy janes.

It should go without saying that the qualities that make messy girls great lays also make them horrible girlfriends. Once you’ve tapped that a few times, you’ll be surprised how quickly you tire of her slovenliness. Disgust, while it is mitigated by sexual arousal, is still a goddamned powerful emotion. You want to lose a boner fast? Step on one of her used tampons in the bathroom that she tried to toss into the trashcan with her girly-armed throwing motion, but missed and didn’t bother picking up. This has happened to me. I spent fifteen minutes scrubbing the sole of my foot until it was raw.

And messy girls are high cheating risks. If she can’t be bothered to care about her living space, she won’t be bothered to care about pleasing you. She will be as sexually impulsive as she is spatially impulsive. A scatterbrained woman has a scatterbrained vagina.

It’s interesting to see science confirm what we all know intuitively and observationally. Women who live in squalor don’t exercise stringent self-control in other areas of their lives. Just try not to focus on the pile of skid-marked panties on her bed. It’ll kill the mood.

Male Choosiness, Female Beauty And Monogamy

Here’s a hypothesis that I haven’t seen elsewhere: More beautiful women will be found in monogamous cultures, or among monogamously-inclined races.

Where women don’t (or can’t) sleep around, and where men are expected to assume a heavy economic and emotional responsibility for the women they woo, men will be choosier about the women they date and marry. Monogamy selects for male choosiness.

If you’re a man, and you’re limited to dating only a few women in your lifetime, and there are onerous familial and cultural pressures to marry the first or second woman you date, you are not going to throw away your one shot at a girl — not to mention all those resources you accumulated to win her over — on an Amanjaw Marcuntte. You’ll take your time assessing the available female goods, and aim for the hottest babe you can get. You’ll waste little time or energy spelunking slutty fat chicks or mustachioed feminists.

Over eons, this results in the more monogamous races and cultures of humanity producing more beautiful women. Of course, seismic shifts in the mating market have been underway for the past 60 or so years, so I expect a future of less beautiful women, on average and proportionate to their overall numbers, compared to the recent past. The one exception to this uglification trend will be the total bifurcation into a female beauty oasis of the 1% ruling class from the Gorgonian masses.

Relatedly, I am familiar with the theories that cad societies where men hypervigilantly (and hyperjealously) guard their women from alpha male interlopers, and geographic regions where high parasite loads influence the sexual selection process so that beauty — a sign of health and lack of genetic mutations — is favored, produce more beautiful women.

Arguing somewhat orthogonally to my monogamy-male choosiness theory is the theory that skewed sex ratios which favor men would produce more beautiful women over the generations. Such societies would be notable for their polygyny, de facto or de jure.

Perhaps all these theories reinforce each other, such that we would find the most beautiful women in countries with established monogamy norms, higher parasite loads, and sex ratios favoring men (caused predominately by men dying young, or otherwise taking themselves out of the sexual marketplace). Where we won’t find the most beautiful women, or any halfway-decent looking woman, is among the readership of Jizzebel or Feministing. Their high parasite load is offset by their self-selecting loserdom.

Women Don’t Handle Rejection Well

Rum writes:

On a parallel track [to women being less familiar than men with continual horniness]; modern American women have no skill at all in coping with sexual rejection. If they come on to you straight-on and you tell them “No!!” – you will not see much gracious-ness or even sanity in their response. They may well try to hit you as their brains short-circuit and go into panic mode.

Astute observation. I’ve had a few girls whose looks I didn’t much care for come on to me in the manner of a man on the hunt. When I say “come on to me”, I’m not cavorting with literary license. I mean, the women cold approached me and asked me out, asked me to join them for a drink, or, in one memorable case, asked me to take her back to my place.

Since these women were not physically acceptable to me, (and since I was dating around at the time and had my sexual urgency dampened), I turned them down. I was nice about it. A simple “No, thanks”, and the girl’s hopeful bright face would immediately darken, her features turn upside down, and she would shuffle back into the shadows a crestfallen hunchback of unanticipated crushing defeat.

One girl I did this to nearly broke into tears, and even in the dim lounge light I could see her lower lip tremble. She then re-approached me later in the night and shouted at me that I was an asshole, jabbing a finger into my chest. (My steel-reinforced pec easily deflected the projectile.) Of course, all eyes turned accusatorially in my direction. You can never say the white knight brigade, men and their female instigators, pass up a chance to fly to the aid of a woman in distress of her own doing. Just a friendly reminder that the unforgiving, stark reality of the sexual market and sex differences massages perception so thoroughly that witnesses to female tribulation automatically assign her any and all benefit of the doubt, and guilt is readily and instantly assumed to be the burden of the man ensnared in the altercation. This perception breaks only under a preponderance of unassailable evidence to the contrary, which is almost never gathered or examined in the cock-propped hothouse of a nightclub. I thus beat a hasty retreat.

It’s fair to say that all these girls (not many in total, but enough to draw a generalization about women who would be in similar circumstances) reacted to my rejecting them in a despondent, tail-tucked way that would rival the most maudlin beta male display of public sexual humiliation.

It’s easy to figure out why. Most women are not accustomed to sexual rejection, delivered straight up like a hot lance to the soul. Not even the less attractive ones have this experience, because there is usually a man sufficiently low enough in the mating hierarchy, and desperate enough for sexual relief, who would accommodate these lonely ladies’ wishes. A woman who approaches a man for sex instinctually believes, with some justification, that her offer will be received with pleasant surprise and cooperative eagerness.

Since she believes this, and since taking the approach initiative feels so strange to her female sensibility, the less attractive woman who pursues this inverted courtship strategy will generally approach only men significantly higher in value than the men she would normally get by waiting to be approached and pursued. Some of these out-of-her-league men will abide, because a convenient one night stand, even one that will be less exciting for him, is hard to turn down. But some of these men won’t, for a variety of reasons, not least of which is the fact that dating attractive babes tends to sour men on wasting even minimal time perfunctorily pump and dumping good-to-go plain janes.

The average woman doesn’t have the wealth of experience that the average man has with direct, active sexual rejection. When, on those rare occasions, she does experience it, her state control is shattered and her negative emotions come flooding to the surface, bobbing like dead fish on a polluted lake. This manifest wretchedness will evoke feelings of sympathy and even misplaced guilt in the man who did the rejecting, which is a point against any belief in the moral superiority of women, who rarely, if ever, feel similar sorts of sympathetic outpourings for the much greater numbers of men they reject in the course of their (fertile) lives.

Men of all stations in life have to deal with sexual rejection more often than do women, and as such they develop a strong shell that protects their egos and allows them to hunt another day, instead of curling into the fetal position and waiting for death, or the next episode of “The New Normal”. Women have never developed this purposeful shell, this strength of self-possession, and their inability to handle unambiguous rejection with dignity testifies to their underlying emotional and ego weakness. Men who get nervous at the thought of approaching women would do well to keep this in mind: you are far better equipped than your prey to surmount a temporary setback. Your masculine detachment is a gift. Take pride in it. The qualities that every societal siren blares that you should be ashamed of are those very qualities that will serve you so well.

182 Days Of Blue Balls

Are happiness and sex antagonistic? A new study reports that couples who waited to have sex were happier in the long run. (Usual caveats about the accuracy of Daily Mail reporting apply.)

A study of hundreds of couples found those who waited to have sex were happier in the long-run.

Women particularly benefited from not leaping into bed at the first opportunity. Marriage also seemed to make them happier than co-habiting.

The researchers said delaying sex gave couples time to get to know each other and work out just how compatible they were.

Without this period of courtship, judgment can be clouded, leading to couples falling into unfulfilling long-term relationships. […]

Analysis of the data clearly showed the women who had waited to have sex to be happier. And those who waited at least six months scored more highly in every category measured than those who got intimate within the first month. Even their sex lives were better.

The link was weaker for men. However, those who waited to get physically involved had fewer rows.

Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder? Would seem like it. But not so fast.

First, I’m not surprised women who waited — or, more precisely, made their beta boyfriends wait — were more satisfied with their relationships. Women are psychologically, and ultimately biologically, predisposed to prefer holding out for sex, because it allows them more time to judge men’s mate quality and investment potential without risking a pregnancy by a man who might flee the next morning. There are very good evolutionary reasons why a woman would make a suitor wait as a test of his commitment to her. A man who is willing to suffer 182 days of this:

…is a man who is likely to stick around after she pops out a newt.

Second, selection bias. Does waiting to have sex really make couples happier, or are couples who are more likely to wait for sex also more likely to be content and fight less within long-term monogamous relationships? I suspect the latter. The kind of people who empathize easily and go along to get along are also the kind of people who have the patience of a saint. I bet people like this also have lower sex drives. It’s doubtful that sex itself, or refraining from having sex, is the causative factor in their happiness.

Third, some recent studies have shown that men derive their happiness within relationships from their lovers’ happiness. That is, when their women are happy, men are happy. The reverse is not necessarily true. So a woman who has held out for sex to make an “unclouded” judgment — and isn’t it funny that women think more clearly when abstaining from sex, while men think more clearly when sexually fulfilled? — is more likely to be happy with her choice of man, and consequently her happiness will infuse her man’s happiness level. But a man would be just as happy with a sexpot who put out early and often as long as she was happy with him (and faithful).

The biggest problem with this study is definitional. Happiness is not love, and it’s not sexual attraction. Love is passion. Happiness is contentment. Love is volatility. Happiness is calm acceptance, even noble resignation. Love is dizzying crescendos. Happiness is rhythmic tempo. Love is hope. Happiness is the relinquishment of hope. Similar contrasts can be made between happiness and lust. Conflating all these as if they were of equal merit, or equally valued, is misleading.

Most couples do not wait 182 days to have sex with the goal of maximizing their mutual happiness, and so we can conclude that most couples are willing to forego long-term happiness for short-term ecstasy. Our revealed preferences indicate that happiness is not high on our mental checklist of values or emotional states.

It’s an intriguing hypothesis, though, that the happiness women gain from lengthy periods of enforced abstinence they sacrifice in sexual and romantic satisfaction. The committed beta provider that female-compelled (and it’s rarely male-compelled) abstinence selects for comes at the cost of losing the sexy alpha cad that female-compelled abstinence selects against.

Maybe some massively underacknowledged subculture of preternaturally abnegating abstinent Evangelicals exists of which I’m only dimly aware that skews the average time couples spend in sexless purgatory well into the double and triple digit days, but in the world I live in — the one that’s pretty much a given in any community that isn’t orthodox religious — a 60 day wait for sex is nearly unheard of, let alone a 182 day wait. In fact, a wait beyond three weeks is pretty much folly for any man dating your typical SWPL chick; by that time, she will have moved on to fucking some dude who actually turns her on. Even the women who say they want to wait longer than convention would react with disbelief if a man told them he would be willing to wait six months before having sex. It’s that weird.

What good is long-term happiness if you can’t even score the short-term thrill? There’s the rub. As a man, you are really rolling low odds by pursuing, or, more precisely, by abiding the woman’s pursuing, the “wait to elate” strategy. The far-future happiness and relationship stability that a long sexless courtship might offer is greatly outweighed by the high risk that you de facto castrate yourself to the woman you are chastely wooing. You’d be a fool to avoid the bedroom for very long, when there is a good chance some other man will distract your girl’s attention during her prolonged bout of purity. And an even better chance you’ll accidentally say or do something during the dry months of your courtship that extinguishes the spark of her attraction for you.

This severing of happiness from sexual triumph, for both sexes, is one of the great unrecognized repercussions of the past 60 years of our Wild West mating market. And it seems like this is exactly the way most of us want it.

Comment Of The Week: Sexual Self-Control Is A Male Thing

Reader whorefinder posits a theory explaining why, historically, women’s sexuality has been deemed more dangerous than men’s sexuality to societal cohesion:

One thing about bitches in heat is that they really aren’t that used to it.

For all the jokes about men being led around by their dicks, men at least have the experience of being turned on a lot more and for a lot longer than women. And, because of that, how to socially deal with that.

Consequently, when a man is turned on —say, at a strip club— he doesn’t charge the stage and throw a stripper down and fuck her right there, even if he wants to. Fear of the bouncers, arrest, rape charges, etc. are there, but so is the social approbation and, generally, his experiences as a younger man knowing how his sexuality acts and not succumbing to it. This, too, shall pass.

Women, on the other hand, experience lust and turned-on-ness more rarely, and its more fleeting for them. After all, the sexual reproduction is accomplished when men ejaculate, not when females orgasm, so nature made men hornier. This is also why women complain of a mood (for sex) “being broken” by a smell, a phrase, or a sight, while men do not have that happen—because men are built to push through and get the job done.

But because women get less horny, when they do get turned on, and especially turned on well, they have much less control. A smooth player who hits all the right buttons on a girl will have her in a puppy-like state because she doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s at the root of when women say “it just happened”—she was so overwhelmed by unfamiliar instinct that she went on autopilot (almost literally), as she had no experience fighting it.

Hornier women—i.e. more masculine women—-are more in tune with the male mindset because 1) they’re led around by their vaginas more; and 2) they have experience taming their vagina cravings. They don’t act girlish because girlishness is for girls who don’t know what waking up horny every day feels like.

All this is to say that women who are able to deny sex based on some “rules” mentality are thinking instead of feeling, which means they aren’t feeling horny enough to jump on you, which means they aren’t very turned on by you in the first place.

Men have a tiger in their pants. When you have spent your whole post-pubescent life side-by-side with a tiger, you learn how to tame it so it doesn’t get you trouble. You learn to think clearly when it’s breathing down your neck. Women have an elephant in their pants; passive and docile most of the time, content to graze languorously, but when it’s roused there’s no stopping it from a destructive rampage. When her elephant is rampaging, she is helpless to think clearly.

Women only seem like they have more sexual self-control than do men, but that’s because they don’t get tempted nearly as much as men do. If women were as frequently, indiscriminately, instantly and intensely climb-the-walls horny as men are, you’d see them begin acting in some very strange ways that broke all sorts of social taboos. Women, for this reason, cannot empathize with men’s libidinous natures and psychological states. Similarly, men find it difficult to empathize with women’s needs for sexual prudence and deliberation (though men find it less difficult to empathize with women than the other way around, owing to the nature of the sexual market requiring more reality-based thinking from men than from women).

For a perfect demonstration of women’s unfamiliarity with powerful uncontrollable horniness, just watch in wonder at how crazily uninhibited in bed a “good girl” will get with you if she has little prior experience dating charming men like yourself, or dating any men at all. Women in these situations often go into a shaman-like state of complete abandon, shrieking pleasure at the top of their lungs, and unable to wind down until sleep becomes too heavy to fight off. And when they fall in love, they become utterly dependent.

whorefinder is correct, then, to say that any man struggling patiently to close the deal with an overly prudent woman is probably falling short of turning her on sufficiently. A woman who truly craves a man will surrender quicker than she anticipated to her surprisingly powerful lust impulse, and her thinking processes will then be hijacked in service to her emotions, rationalizing the pleasure-seeking actions she’s about to take, rather than turned in service to her arid reason or rules. In contrast, a woman who is able to think clearly in your company is a woman whose vagina remains dry and unperturbed.

To put it another way: You wouldn’t want to date any Rules girl who succeeded at convincing you to obey her rules.

The next post will seem to be a direct contradiction of this post, but it won’t be to those who understand that woman is cursed with dueling reproductive directives. This long duel of the female soul — eternal, unrelenting, stalemated — imbues women with a vague veneer of crazy. It’s what makes women inscrutable to high and low men, and sometimes even to the most perceptive masters of the mind.

Womanese-to-English Translator

Online translator services are really helpful in a pinch when you’re overseas, but what do you do when you’re talking with a woman who speaks your language? American women speak English, at least syntactically and grammatically, but the meanings of their words and sentences often mislead as much as inform. After all, if women said what they meant and spoke clearly and honestly, wining and dining them with all-expenses paid dates would be a thing of the past. You’d know within a few minutes whether she was going to put out for you or not. And if she was interested in sex, you’d know exactly how to proceed to ensure it happened.

So for those times when you actually care what a woman says to you — i.e., those times you’re talking with an attractive young babe you want to crotch smash — your life (and sanity) would be immeasurably improved if you had a Womanese-to-English translator at your instant disposal. Imagine the following conversation:

YOU: Hi, can I buy you a drink?

HER: Sure!

YOU: Cool.

HER: Thanks. [drinks up, eyes room, alpha male pops up out of nowhere and she leaves with him, laughing all the way]

YOU: fuck.

Now this is how the above conversation would go if you had a Chateau Heartiste Womanese-to-English Translator on hand:

YOU: Hi, can I buy you a drink? [turns on W/E Translator, patent pending]

HER: Sure, I won’t turn down a freebie, but it will hurt your chances to have sex with me.

YOU: Nah, I changed my mind. I won’t buy you a drink.

HER: So… you seem kind of interesting. New around here?

See how your life would be so much better with the W/E Translator at your side? Here’s another sample conversation that many of you will encounter in the course of your pickup career:

YOU: I collect walking sticks. Come, let’s go to my place. I’ll show you my collection.

HER: Ok, but nothing’s going to happen tonight.

YOU: [dejected face] oh, ok. Well, can I get your number?

HER: [gives fake number]

Feel like a lah-hooo-ser? You should. But you don’t need to ever feel that way again with the W/E Translator (patent pending, internationally copyrighted)! How would the above conversation have turned out when run through the W/ET for accuracy?

YOU: I collect walking sticks. Come, let’s go to my place. I’ll show you my collection. [turns on W/ET]

HER: Ok, but nothing’s going to happen tonight if you give up trying.

YOU: [smug face] Don’t worry, I won’t.

HER: [takes your arm]

Beautiful love, with an assist from the W/E Translator. Can a price be put on such a product? It can’t, but now you can have it for the low low price of $49.99, an infinity dollars-minus-$49.99 savings! You’d be crazy to pass up this opportunity.

More game-changing, dick-wetting, money-saving, sanity-sparing magic, courtesy of the W/ET:

Before W/E Translator

YOU: [making bedroom move on your wife]

HER: [turns over] I have a headache tonight. Maybe another time.

After W/E Translator

YOU: [making bedroom move on your wife]

HER: [turns over] Can’t do it. My vagina is still sore from fucking my boss.

Before W/E Translator

HER: When are you going to dust the cat hair balls like I asked?

YOU: Sorry, honey, I forgot. I’ll get right to it.

HER: Nevermind, I already did it. You obviously don’t care.

YOU: What?! Of course I care about you! Where did this come from?

HER: Just forget about it. I’ll be at the spa.

After W/E Translator

HER: When are you going to stick up for yourself and say no to me?

YOU: So this is what you mean. I get it now.

HER: My complaint about the cat hair balls is really a passive-aggressive taunt directed at your repulsive feeble betatude.

YOU: It’s refreshing to know how you really feel instead of making me read between the lines.

HER: I’ll be filing for divorce in less than a year.

***

Since I doubt your woman will stop talking anytime soon, the W/E Translator is useful in every situation. Just read these typical obfuscating female words and watch them transform right before your eyes into distilled truth.

HER: I don’t deserve you.

W/ET: Treat me like shit if you want to get in my pants.

HER: I’d rather not corrupt an innocent man.

W/ET: Your inexperience with women is a turn-off.

HER: I’m not nearly as nice of a person as you are.

W/ET: I’m really nice to jerks, but I won’t be nice to you.

HER: I’m a bit too immature to appreciate a guy like you.

W/ET: Call me in ten years after I’ve ridden the cock carousel and my looks have taken a hit.

Act now, and we’ll throw in the bonus W/E Nonverbal Translator! Just hold it up to visually record your girlfriend or wife, and receive a verbal confirmation of her real state of mind.

HER: [scarfs down ice cream]

YOU: [activates W/ENT]

W/ENT: “This ice cream is more exciting to me than your dick.”

***

HER: [parks her fat ass on a sofa to watch The View]

YOU: [point W/ENT at her]

W/ENT: “I no longer feel motivated to please you because you are an uninspiring beta herb.”

Amazing stuff! And guess what? The W/ET even has a super secret algorithm that can tell which words women speak are truthful. That’s right, it knows what needs translating, and what doesn’t! When a woman says something unexpectedly candid, the W/ET flashes a green light. That’s green light for “go to your nearest chapel and profess your belief in a higher being, ESP, and Bigfoot”.

HER: You’re too safe and predictable for me.

W/ET: *green light*

HER: You’re giving me too much power and I resent it.

W/ET: *green light*

HER: I wish you’d stop doing as I say because you logically figure it’s how to avoid a crushing break-up.

W/ET: *green light*

There’s even a setting that allows you to program the W/ET so that the closer a woman comes to speaking the unadulterated truth, the brighter the green light shines in your face.

HER: My vagina burns for violent sexual adventures with an emotionally opaque, aloof badboy who makes me a little scared for my life.

W/ET: *GREEN LIGHT GREEN LIGHT GREEN LIGHT*

Sold yet? You should be! $49.99 will give you such a massive competitive advantage over every other man it’s a wonder this product isn’t ILLEGAL! Buy now before the divorce lawyers find a way to classify the W/E Translator as Schedule I contraband! (Operators and coping therapists standing by.)

The Unequal Housework Fallacy

Hanna Rosin (man, this broad gets around on the back of stealing my ideas) has a couple of cute, girly charts in this article, showing that breadwinner women still do most of the housework. This is supposed to be evidence confirming feminist beliefs that men are slackers and women are “trying to do it all”.

Another load of rancid menstrual flow. The reason women do more housework is because women can’t tolerate messy homes as well as men can. Women want and require cleaner homes than do men. If you want something more than another person wants that thing, you will put more effort into getting it. And if you aren’t a whiny baby about it, like feminists apparently are, you’ll take responsibility for your more stringent demands and do it yourself. You won’t bitch and moan about people who aren’t doing the work for a goal you think is necessary and reasonable, but they don’t think is necessary or reasonable.

Men simply find the hours and hours of housework that women demand to be an unreasonable waste of time and energy. They have better things to do. And you don’t hear men complaining that women aren’t putting in the extra time and work to do the things men find worthwhile, like, say, detailing the car. If breadwinner wives aren’t happy with this arrangement, there’s a simple solution: learn to be happy with a slightly less than spotless home. Or hire a Mexican.

Ya know, back in the day, before insanity became the law of the land, this used to be called “division of labor”. Scary words to feminist shrikes, but that’s to be expected when anything close to the truth about sex differences accosts them.