Female Beauty Ranking: The Elusive 10

It is spoken of in reverent tones by men from all walks of life, yet who can honestly say they’ve seen, let alone banged, a genuine hard 10 in the real world? The 10 is perfect female beauty, above which there is no better, only differently perfect. Some men, vexed by the philosophical conundrum of perfection in a trait that is ultimately perceived in the deep recesses of the male brain, insist there is no such thing as a 10, only grades of 9 that asymptotically approach perfection, but never reach it. I do not agree with these poseur pseudo-aesthetes. Beauty is largely objective, and most men will agree with surprising uniformity how individual women rank in the beauty sweepstakes. Some rare women do live, and have lived, who possess the pinnacle of feminine beauty. Perhaps women will evolve toward ever greater beauty, in which scenario the 10s of today may very well be the 8s of tomorrow, but that is a discussion for another post. Here, we are concerned with what activates present day boners, not the boners of the far future.

This post attempts to capture the elusive 10 by discovering whether there can be widespread agreement among men that such women exist. I have chosen pics from the reader submitted female photo page that best represent the hottest that womankind has to offer. I have taken care to select women from different races and ethnicities to add an element of danger controversy curiosity to the voting. All of the following women were rated 10 by at least one reader (usually the original submitter of the photo), so my personal preference was kept to a minimum.

Your job is to rank the following photos. You will notice that the rankings only go from 7 to 10. That is because none of these women would be voted under a 7 by 99% of men in the world. The truncated ranking weeds out the nerds suffering from Internet Male Syndrome who will downgrade a hot chick for having pointy elbows. If you are one of these celibate dorks, understand that your opinion is of no consequence at all. And, likely, neither is your sad and lonely pecker.

If the true 10 exists in real life as opposed to fantasy, then there will be one or more photos from the collection below where the ranking clusters around the top score. A woman who scores, say, 60% or more “10” votes, could rightly be considered to be an actual 10. Majority male rule works when we accept the premise that most men share a mental template for what constitutes female beauty. Scientific evidence and real world observation suggest this premise is true.

Choosing from among all the photos the most beautiful was trickier than it sounds. I wanted a representative sample of non-photoshopped girls, so I tried to mix in some snapshot quality girls-next-door along with the celebrities. The problem with identifying 10s off the street is that their beauty is so rare and captivating they are soon swept from their humdrum daily lives and shuttled straight into the elite lifestyle of model, singer or actress. If you are a man who wants to deflower a 10 before she escapes to an insulated elite bubble, you had better go young; 18-21, and no older.

One more thing. There are likely some relatively minor differences between men of the big four races in their beauty preferences. It’s been widely noted by non-PC brainwashed automatons that black men, for instance, like bigger (some would say fatter) butts on their women. Conversely, Asian men may prefer flatter asses and broader faces. And white men may like longer legs and stronger cheekbones. These differences aren’t big enough to swamp the universal agreement among men on what satisfies the fundamental characteristics of female beauty (neoteny seems to be a universally shared preference), but that they probably exist means that an Ethiopian’s 10, while still beautiful, will look considerably different than a Finn’s 10. Given this, I’ve included a poll at the bottom asking you to identify your race. It will be interesting to see if, and how, the racial breakdown is reflected in the scores for each woman.

Related to this post: Agnostic has a good post on how beauty may have evolved in population groups that spent more time tending animals, and thus exposing themselves to greater parasite loads. (Beauty acts as a signaler that you have the genes to cope with disease.)

Put your dick back in your pants, and start the voting!

That’s it for the 10 voting. Now tell us your race.

Lightning Round!

Is there such a thing as a perfect body? Vote on the woman in this photo:

Beauty, like any other addiction, can often dull the senses if it is consumed absolute. The remedy is to stare at the beautiful woman when she is standing next to a plain or ugly woman. The difference is a stark reminder that beautiful women may as well be a separate species from unattractive women. Don’t believe me? Look at this pic:

Marie Claire Blogger Spills Truth, Fatties Erupt On Cue

Some chick named Maura Kelly who writes for Marie Claire had a truth serum moment and admitted what we all feel — fatties included — when we have to see fat people existing in our field of view.

So anyway, yes, I think I’d be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other … because I’d be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I’d find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair.

What person, besides a freak outlier fat fetishist, enjoys the sight of a fat load waddling down the street or face-smashed with another fatty in corpulent PDA? Two zeppelins careening into each other for an intimate embrace as their rolls undulate outward like a flesh tsunami is repulsive. Or something to laugh at to take our minds off our revulsion. The morbidly obese are the modern monster, a hideous deviation from the evolved human norm; they are loathsome creatures who inspire our hate and jeering. Fat people cause environmental degradation by despoiling pristine views of healthy, sexy people, and by eating more than they need to survive. Telling them to push away from the table is the green thing to do.

Naturally, the utterance of such an ugly truth caused a stampede by fatsos and fembots.

“Do you think all of the people who read your magazine are a size 6?” wrote one reader. [Ed: No but they should be.]

“People like you ‘contribute to the obesity problem’ with being so shallow,” fired another commenter. [Actually, I think the donuts do that.]

“I have an overweight little girl who does not sit in front of the TV for hours, or constantly eat. She is adorable, smart, funny and will be a wonderfully productive member of society,” added one angry mom on Shine. [And ignored by men.]

Another reader dripped with sarcasm: “Dear Maura Kelly, I sincerely apologize for my disgusting body and all the various rolls of fat on my person.” [Not good enough. Less talking, more exercising.]

James Zervios, director of communications for the Obesity Action Coalition, an advocacy group for obesity education, said, “You’d never see an article like that about a cancer patient. It saddens me that those who suffer from obesity aren’t treated with the same respect.” [One guess how cancer is different than obesity.]

Zervios worries Kelly’s message that over-weight people are “gross” sends a damaging message to the 93 million Americans affected by the epidemic, many of them children. [Because a mean word is much more damaging to one’s health than an extra 100 pounds.]

“It’s bad enough that magazines Photoshop people’s bodies to look more unattainable, now you have a writer at one of them saying they can’t stand to look at an obese person. A young over-weight girl should never have to read that kind of article.” [On the contrary, the best thing for her is a helpful reminder of her ugliness. Don’t want the chubby younguns growing up with unwarranted high self-esteem.]

But Zervios blames the media at large for the growing intolerance of the over-weight. “I think the word ‘fatty’ should be stricken from magazines and TV in general,” he says. “Anytime obesity is brought up in pop culture people think it’s okay to go for the jugular.” [It is a natural inclination to ostracize the weak and the monstrous.]

This “blame the media” refrain is the reflexive blurt of the human nature denialists. It comes in many flavors: blame society, blame cultural conditioning, blame stereotyping, blame heteronormativity, blame subtextual bias… anything to avoid confronting the reality of evolved immutable human preferences for some traits over others. People are intolerant of obesity because it innately disgusts them, not because “the media” tells them to be disgusted. Media propaganda can make it more or less acceptable to publicly express that disgust, but it can’t create the disgust out of thin air.

Unsurprisingly, the shrikes over at Jizzabomb were in high dudgeon.

How could [Maura Kelly] think this was acceptable? It’s that, as much as anything else, that’s worrisome: that at a mainstream magazine with a wide reach and an ostensibly progressive outlook could think, in 2010, this was okay to write and implicitly endorse.

American feminism — supporting the right to freely speak one’s mind since… well, never. Parrot zee PC party line or vee vill suffocate you mit our precision-engineered pendulous ta tas!

After 30,000 comments of roly-poly righteous indignation, Maura Kelly meekly capitulated on her blog and apologized. But she apologized in that peculiar female way which attempts to reframe the apology as a self-pity party to warm the crowd to her side.

To that point (and on a more personal level), a few commenters and one of my friends mentioned that my extreme reaction might have grown out of my own body issues, my history as an anorexic, and my life-long obsession with being thin. As I mentioned in the ongoing dialogue we’ve been carrying on in the comments section, I think that’s an accurate insight.

Translated from womanese: “I’m hurting too! Redraw alliances.”

Sometimes I feel a bit lonely out here in this borderland outpost of the internet. My wrecking balls — enormous though they are — can only demolish so much shit in a lifetime. Luckily, I’m getting help from the far reaches of the world. In Brazil, college guys are jumping on fat chicks and riding them like rodeo bulls until they are bucked off. Points are scored for how long they can stay on. (Translation algorithm needs work.)

A group of students from Universidade Estadual Paulista, one of the most important of the country, organized a “competition”, called “Fat” of Rodeo, whose goal was to grab their colleagues, the obese, preferences and try to simulate a Rodeo–getting as long as possible on the prey.

Be careful. You do not want to get kicked in the nads by a diabetic cankle or glassed by a flying fupa.

Sexbot Update

They’re coming. And sooner than you think.

A YouTube commenter writes:

the day humans will stop existing is just around a hundred years after the first realistic sex robot hits the market.

Unless reproduction is industrialized and severed from the mating market after the appearance of that first lifelike sexbot, this commenter is likely correct. Here is an older post about the probable ramifications of sexbots on human society and dating.

When sexbots become realistic enough to compete with attractive human women in the bedroom, then what you will essentially see is a sex ratio that is numerically skewed in favor of men. Basically, the world will become one giant liberal arts college campus. Men will stop running traditional game and instead run “present and accounted for” game.

Belittle League

Submitted for your disapproval…

The phone rang. It was Zeets the Throwback Barbarian, Disdainer of Text, Facebook and Email.

“Went to watch a Little League game my woman’s nephew was playing in. Really disturbing.”

“How so?”

“Well, the game was in a hoity-toity neighborhood. Lots of yuppies live there. Mercedes and BMWs parked everywhere. One of the fathers was a lawyer… except not the assertive type. White and pasty, with a general softness.”

“A herb.”

“Yes, Baron Pighausen! Anyhow, I’m watching this game, and something’s off about the whole thing. The field and the dugouts were chaos. Kids running around, no order, no managing. There are a bunch of players in the on-deck circle swinging their bats at the same time, which is against baseball rules. You’d think the manager or the fathers would know that, but they were just letting the kids do whatever they wanted. One of the bats almost hit another kid.”

“Sounds like a Romper Room.”

“It gets worse. The runner on first base got hit by a batted ball and no one called him out. Baseball rules are that runners interfering with fair balls are out. None of the fathers knew that or didn’t care. One of the kids was screaming at the top of his lungs that the runner was out. Screaming! ‘He was out!! He was out!!’”

“What a sorry spectacle.”

“But that’s not all. Here’s the best part. They weren’t keeping score! No scoring allowed.”

“This was a rule? No scorekeeping? Holy crap, it’s like something out of a feminist wet dream.”

“Yep! A no-scoring game would have been laughed right off the field when I played Little League. And fathers back then knew the goddamned rules of the game. They wouldn’t have tolerated a chaotic playground like this.”

“Wow, they’re removing any competitiveness from the game. It’s like they don’t want boys to be boys. What kind of parents are these?”

“Well, there were a couple of unaccompanied mothers there, and some fathers, too. A few fathers showed up later in the game. Oh, and a lesbian couple. Well, that last one’s easy to explain.”

“No doubt. But the rest have no excuse. What kind of Little League is this?”

“I don’t know, but it’s nothing like the Little League I remember. There is some good news, though. A faint glimmer of hope. The kid screaming that the runner was out rattled all the parents. He was completely frustrated that the parents or umps were not following the rules. Other kids started joining in the mayhem. The boys understood something was wrong, and they were acting out.”

“What a glimpse into a degenerate culture. These Swipple adults are trying to shove emasculation down the throats of our nation’s boys, and the boys aren’t having any of it. They’re fighting back, without really understanding why, against crap that feels wrong to them.”

“The boys were out of control with rage and frustration, totally disobedient, doing whatever they felt like doing. Maybe that’s a good thing. I left feeling a little more positive for this country’s future.”

***

Yes. It might be our only chance for salvation. Our country is being assaulted by a new elite of SWPLs who disrespect, even loathe, American tradition and historical precedence, and deny differences between boys and girls. If they are to be defeated, (and total crushing defeat is the only answer), then taking up bats and swinging them with abandon might be the only avenue good people have left to victory.

Teasing Should Be Like Breathing

My girl had challenged me to a pushup hold contest. This is where you assume the pushup position and hold it there for as long as you can. I had said she stood no chance with me, and she eagerly set out to prove me wrong. But instead of following the script she was expecting, I reached out and swatted her inner elbow while she was in her pushup, and she crumpled to the ground, whining about my unfairness as I declared “victory” over her puny femaleness. She then chased me around the house until I tossed her onto the bed where intimacy commenced.

When a girl asks you to do something for or with her, instead of following her request to the tee you should be thinking how you can screw around with her expectation. Your brain needs to be trained to think like this if you are a natural born beta who did not instill in himself the proper mindset when it is best instilled — elementary school. Years of pulling ponytails on playgrounds prepares a boy for dealing with adult women who want to be dominated and teased into arousal by a carefree man who doesn’t take them seriously. Call it “depedestalization”; the act of teasing is akin to pushing a girl right off her pedestal, whether erected by herself or by orbiting obsequious men, and is craved by every woman with a working vagina.

Remember, because the average woman is biologically more valuable than the average man, every girl is born perched atop a pedestal. The doctor holds it upside down, gives it a few slaps to firm the supports, and then inserts it under the infant girl’s bottom, where it remains propping her up until she is knocked off it by either circumstance, aging, or deliberate effort. If the infant girl grows up ugly, her pedestal will shrink of its own accord, until it is not more than a speck on her ass. If she grows up pretty, her pedestal will get bigger in accordance with the slavish attention she receives from men. By age 18, a hot chick may as well be surveying her queefdom from the apex of a pyramid. It would take a truly impressive asshole to knock such a girl off her throne, which may explain why the hottest girls fall for the biggest jerks.

Therefore, teasing a girl should be like breathing to you. It should come naturally, with little forethought. For instance, if she asks you to pick up a bag of kitty litter for her furry child substitute, rather than dutifully fulfilling her request you could pretend to forget to buy it and inform her that you bought an electric zapper instead to train the cat to go in the toilet. Then pull out a black wand or something similar and chase after the cat to “demonstrate” the efficacy of electroshock kitty training. If you can do this with a straight face, she will freak out. Once informed of the prank, she will smile, hit you hard, and then jump your bones.

Or maybe she gets excited to tell you about something that happened to her at work. If you’re a beta, you would ask her to proceed and listen intently as she unloads her emotions. She will be grateful for your listening ability, but not too turned on. However, if you’re an alpha, you would prop your hands under your chin, curl your fingers, purse your lips into a pinched smile, widen your eyes while blinking exaggeratedly for effect and arch your eyebrows like you’re about to burst from the anticipation. Clap your hands like a little boy catching his first glimpse of a birthday present, and say “Do go on! Yes? Yes!?! Oh, the suspense is killing me! I hope it lasts!” If her eyes aren’t shimmering with joy and lust by this point, you are dating a golem. Naturally, she will give you shit. This just means you’re doing it right.

I know this blog has an inordinate number of aspie readers who can’t divine subtleties of argument, so before the usual complaints are heard it pays to remind yourself that while women love to get teased, their appreciation doesn’t mean you should tease them ALL THE FUCKING TIME, regardless of circumstance. If she wants you to pick up flowers for her mom’s funeral, it’s probably not a good idea to tease her about her allergies to roses. You can occasionally pick up a gallon of milk for her without making a production out of it. I really hate having to include these obvious caveats, but man oh man alive there are some numbskulls on this board.

America’s Future Soldiers Are Unfit For Duty

Regular readers know how I occasionally write about what I see is the decline, and soon to be fall, of the once-glorious American Empire. I consider it an honor and a duty — well, really, an amusing hobby — to chronicle the trendlines, the cultural and economic indicators, and the elite and underclass degeneracy and subversion that portend a relatively rapid diminishment of American power in the world. It’s breathtaking! I suggest you try it.

The facts point to an America in her death rattle, (or more accurately, her comatose wastage), but it’s not just the cold facts; the finger in the wind test reveals the coming storm as well. Step back for a moment to see the big picture and muse how amazing it is that you happen to be living through the final days of your nation’s greatness, and how rare that is in the sweep of history. You are the perceptive Roman plebe watching with a mix of disgust, confusion, sorrow and awe as what your forefathers built around you crumbles to dust in your lifetime, except instead of dragging along at a leisurely 320 years for the rot to fully metastasize, you get to experience it at the historically breakneck pace of 50 to 60 years. Yay, instant communications and advanced propaganda techniques!

In that spirit, here is an email from a reader stationed at the first input of America’s defensive capability. Reading this, I’m getting that scene from Wall-E in my head, where the grotesquely fat humans are wheeled around and serviced by robots.

Reader “LT” emails:

I am an officer in the US Army.  I commissioned as a Military Police Officer in June 2009, and am attending Officer Basic Course at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri.

As any prior service person knows, whenever you report for training the first week is all in processing paper work and briefings: health screenings, ethics classes, class overview, etc.  Lots of high ranking individuals will come into class and talk to you about all sorts of the usual.

During our first week, we had a “full-bird” Colonel (our Brigade Commander) come into our class to talk about junior officer professional development.  He began to talk about why physical fitness is so important as an officer and as a Soldier in the Army.

Now, OBVIOUSLY physical fitness is important, and as any West Point, OCS, Direct Commission, or ROTC officer can tell you, it is expected of an officer to be one of the top (if not THE top) physical fitness test scorers in their unit.  Suffice to say, most officers are in excellent physical shape, far above the normal American.  (The Army physical fitness test standards can be found through a simple google search.)

This is where it gets interesting: Fort Leonard Wood is one of the largest basic training facilities in the US.  Every year, thousands of enlisted trainees fresh out of high school come to Fort Leonard Wood for “boot camp.”  Here, their individuality is abolished and they are taught to work as a team and a unit.

This Colonel was telling us that these trainees (who are not officers) were suffering CATASTROPHIC physical injuries while at basic training.  We are talking serious injuries: stress fractures of the feet, shins, and knees; as well as hip fractures, hip dislocations, and minor heart attacks.

THESE ARE 18 YEAR OLD KIDS!

The Colonel went on to explain the theory behind this spike in injuries in recent years has to do with the current generation’s sedentary lifestyle.  The injuries that these trainees were sustaining were injuries that a normal, active adult would not be at risk for until the mid 40’s and 50’s, if not beyond.  But here, 18 year old kids were being sent-home and out processed from serving their country for dislocating hips while running around a track.

It’s easy to point the finger at really fat people and say, “Goddamn, that is disgusting.”  But when it comes to an “average” looking high school kid not even look twice.  But to those readers who have children, take a good look at their diet and how much activity they are getting outside.  Just because they aren’t “fat” and LOOK fine doesn’t mean they aren’t at risk for injury.  Several hundred thousand years ago, they wouldn’t survive a day.

Good news: the Army here at Fort Leonard Wood as all but eliminated these injuries by re-thinking how we get new Soldiers into shape.  Our new physical fitness regime includes elements of yoga (for stretching), football (for grass drills), and track and field (for short bursts of speed).  Readers who are interested should look it up on the Army Physical Fitness School’s website.

Yes, fat people are easy to spot and ostracize.  But those of us who can still fit into size 32 jeans aren’t off the hook.  When even the Army wakes up and pays attention to health and fitness beyond the usual lip service; I think the rest of the nation should follow suit.

~LT

The US Army’s Physical Fitness Standards are here. The Army considers a score of 60 in each event the minimum required to become a soldier. If you are a 30 year old man, can you do:

• 39 pushups?
• 45 situps?
• a 17 minute 2-mile run?

Guess what. Most of the 18 year old enlisted men can’t do anything close to that. They are breaking their hips like old grandmas.

Every time I post one of these telling indicators of American decline, some leftie or libertard pipes up about iPods. “Oh, but look at the cheap LCD TVs and iPods we have now!” Yes, I’m sure the Roman populace was pleased with its bread and circuses before the barbarians trampled the gates. While we’re at it, here’s another example of vibrant and diverse bread and circuses for the entertainment of the masses: Beheaded animals littering Miami streets.

There is not likely a single politician alive today who understands the full scope and nature of America’s unraveling, or is willing to tackle it head on. Good people sense it, but cannot adequately articulate their concerns. Others know the reasons, but for cowardice or denial won’t speak their minds. Still others are out-and-out traitors to the historical American enterprise.

Since I am a giving man of bounteous heart, here is my fourteen point plan for saving America:

1. A wall at the southern border. If Israel and China can do it, so can we.
2. An immigration moratorium for 20 years. Immigration halts coincide with a resurgence of American economic vitality.
3. An end to birthright citizenship for children of non-citizens. If this means rescinding the 14th Amendment, so be it.
4. A flat tax, or a VAT coupled with the abolishment of the income tax. The tax is too damn high! And too subversively complex.
5. A repeal of Obamacare. It’s hurting, not helping.
6. An end to all affirmative action and quotas.
7. An end to all foreign military engagements that are not directly tied to the defense of American interests. There will be no more neocon wars for the spread of democracy, which democracy most of the world’s ingrates don’t want or can’t handle, anyhow.
8. An end to Social Security and Medicare in their current incarnations. If we were a homogeneous Northern Euro country, these programs might stand a chance of succeeding over the long term. But entitlement programs do not work in a radically diverse society filled with population groups of differing health, economic, and conscientiousness profiles. SS alone creates a huge disincentive to save.
9. An end to all government pension plans. Your tax dollars are going to support the lavish retirement plans of government workers.
10. A restriction on public employees of their voting rights. Conflict of interest, ftw. Allow them to vote only every other election cycle.
11. An end to no-fault divorce and welfare in any form, including food stamps, for single mothers. You want to kill a successful modern society? Kill the nuclear family. The rest will follow.
12. An end to credentialism. The scourge of suckup credentialist glorification is producing a new elite of cognitive and cultural übermen at philosophical odds with the mass of Americans not invited to their coke and prep course parties. They will soon be a new subrace of humans if present trends continue (I’m not kidding). They do not have the majority Americans’ interests at heart. The New Eloi are testament to the resiliency of the eugenic drive in each and every human, regardless of social sanctions or legal prohibitions against active pursuit of such. While I am not anti-eugenic, (I’m closer to anti-dysgenic than pro-eugenic), the rapid formulation of a supersmart and supercapable minority elite perfectly tailored to exploit a modern information economy to their advantage while the masses fall further behind, is a recipe for oligarchy, a disappearing middle class, and revolution. Ending abject credentialism (or at least mitigating it) will be tough, but it can be done. Start by allowing companies to directly test prospective employees on their abilities to do the job they are applying for. This will take the pressure off employers to weight college degrees so heavily. Next step is to gut the enormous endowments of our elite universities. Ending federal student loan programs and government funding is a start. Ending tenure would go a way toward excavating these wretched leftwing gargoyles from humanities departments. I’d also pass a law requiring strip clubs and Hooters on every Ivy League campus so that the future hedge funders and doctors can see what they would be missing if they settled for marrying the closest proximity fellow Ivy chick they could find.
13. End all federal agriculture subsidies. A big (heh) reason for the obesity plague is the confluence of government largesse (double heh) with industrial farming shoving sugars, HFCS, and cheap refined grains front and center on our nation’s supermarket shelves. Simply removing these market interferences would help propel a Paleo-style diet onto more people’s dinner plates.
14. An end to all government-mandated sexual harassment and diversity programs. Really, they’re mobile reeducation camps designed to sap the fighting spirit of America’s white men. They are insidious.

I wonder if there is one point in the above fourteen that Obama would find agreeable? Sez it all. Does anyone seriously doubt that this plan would restore America to greatness? And if you don’t doubt it…

then what’s stopping you?

Good Examples Of Readers Passing Shit Tests

An emailer writes:

My girlfriend of two years sent me this text last evening: “My ma says that we aren’t going to last forever bc you’re just settling with me.”

My response this morning: “Ridiculous. You’ll always have a prominent place in my harem, babe.”

It goes without saying that in the past I would have responded with something along the lines of: “No, babe, we’ll be together forever” or some such lackadaisical retort. After being initiated beyond the level of neophyte in the crimson arts, however, I pass shit tests like an East Asian passes advanced Calc.

Strong, the alpha is in this one. His response was a combination of agree and amplify game and sarcastic disqualification.

Commenter dilla writes:

Couldn’t figure out how to send an e-mail, so I thought I’d post this prime example of a shit test.

Texting:

me: hey lets go for that drink tomorrow

her: hi!! I actually already have plans, sorry
(note no attempt to reschedule)

me: gay.

her: my brother is gay but I suppose this is gay too.
(shittest. chances were good she was bs’ing, but you have to assume shes not)

me: oh ya? so is my cousin we should hook them up
(lie)

her: haha! I was just kidding, i just wanted to see how you would react
(skank. but she might as well be telling me shes down for the cause)

me: my cousin will be disappointed. when are you free this week

A beta would have backpedaled and reflexively apologized. Dilla knew better.

Reader Sonso emails:

The pain of a girl getting flaked on.

So I had plans to meet a girl between 10 and 11AM. She lives about an hour and a half outside my city, but had to come in early to take care of some things and would be free at that time.

At 10:30 I get a text saying ”I’m just leaving my place now,” so I go and meet up with some friends instead. At around 1:30 I get a call asking if I was still around, and said I was. She said she was coming, but my phone died before she arrived.

The next day I get a message saying ”I hate you!”.

If a man ever sent a message to a girl saying ”I hate you!” after a flake, how quickly that snatch would snap closed…

This is more accurately described as an example of not taking blatant shit from a girl, rather than passing a flirtatious shit test. The two are related, as your response to either will determine how she perceives your attractiveness. “I hate you!” is girlcode for “I hate you for making my gina buzz like a hornets’ nest!”. Sonso should try again with this girl in about a week, but even if it leads nowhere he will have the satisfaction of knowing he retained his dignity and got under her skin.

My readers are starting to get it. Do you?