What I Do For Fun

Tailgate people with “Coexist” bumper stickers on their cars.

Celebrating The Olympic Spirit

Exhibit A:

Olympic camel toe.

(Hat tip, VK. Naturally.)

I love how so many female Olympic athletes are photographed holding long, phallic objects.

Exhibit B:

Hybrid vigor in action — Olympians hooking up in droves.

“You see more and more couples, there is a lot of hooking up. And it is the mix of races that many people are looking for,” a Mexican volleyball player, already out of the competition, told Deutsche Presse-Agentur dpa. “And with the Russian, Czech and Slovak specimens you see, the material is unbeatable.“

I agree with his assessment. It seems the men of the world are coming around to the poon viewpoint — Slavic chicks are the gold standard.

“You have 16,000 athletes in the Village, and it is very likely that some boys will like some girls and that, in turn, will lead to sex,” said Dutch baseballer Jeroen Sluitjer, 33. “And if there are free condoms going around, people will feel like using them.”

[…]there are 30,000 more [in Beijing] than the 70,000 that ran out in the Australian city, leading Village authorities to order an extra 20,000.

16,000 athletes. 100,000 condoms, with 20,000 more on the way. Assuming all 120,000 condoms are used, that’s 15 bangs per athlete (given an equal number of male and female athletes pairing off to have sex, each condom represents two individual bangs), or about one bang per athlete every day for the duration of the Olympics.

Of course, a dude like Michael Phelps is going to get a lot more action than a benchwarmer on the Latvian badminton team, and human nature being what it is, the men will average more bangs with a smaller pool of horny women than the other way around. Usain Bolt might go through a whole box before crossing the finish line. (I wonder if he suffers from premature ejaculation?)

According to British rower Matthew Pinsent, the atmosphere in the Village is “intoxicating,” with “thousands of sportsmen at the peak of their strength.”

The Chinese might have to rename the Yellow Sea to the Milky White Sea.

“People are going out more and more. The judokas, who are already done, the swimmers,” the Mexican volleyballer said. “And there is one place that no one wants to miss, the Dutch House. That is definitely wild.”

Dutch women — sperm receptacles of the world.

One thing I’ve noticed about the female athletes is how most of them have narrow hips, small tits, wide waists, and broad shoulders. This is the classic tomboy build. Here is a good example (minus the overdeveloped delts):

little boy body with hot girl face.

Although she has inviting BJ lips, her waist-to-hip ratio is less hourglass and more cylindrical. She does not have a feminine body, but at least she’s slender. You can be sure a quarter will bounce sky-high off her ass. I see she has the perfect divot above her bellybutton to collect my man seed.

The tomboy is a product of nature; she was born with her androgenized body. The elite female athlete is a product of nature and nurture; her masculine build has been accentuated by rigorous training and, in many cases, by synthetic hormones designed to duplicate the attitude and physique of a man.

Androgenized girls naturally gravitate to athletics because of their higher testosterone and their mannish figures. This is why female athletics as a spectator sport are a joke. Women only reach the elite level by being born with masculine traits and training to look more like men. It’s like watching a competition of substandard men. The only thing that keeps the average sports fan tuned in is the occasional glimpse of the rare feminine hottie (see: Exhibit A).

The more womanly a woman, the less likely she will be a world class athlete that feminists and the mainstream media can hold up as a role model for young girls. This is the definition of ass backwards.  It is the womanly women who should be role models for young girls.

The Incredible Pull Of Alpha Males

What an alpha male can get away with:

A former Senator and vice-presidential candidate [John Edwards] misused campaign contributions and money pledged to fight poverty so he could bring his mistress on the campaign trail with him during the presidential campaign where he was constantly making appearances with his widely admired cancer stricken wife then fathered the mistress’s child sometime around the time he was getting a Father Of The Year Award and then asked his loyal aid who already has a wife and kids to falsely claim paternity while the fake dad and the mistress were funneled money so they could move to be near the mistress’s psychic healer friend while the former candidate continued to meet the mistress and baby until he was caught by tabloid reporters and hid in the bathroom and then confessed on national TV a couple of weeks later but both he and his wife continued to lie during that interview and in subsequent statements.

What a beta male can get away with:

.

Any questions?

***

Morality is elastic — the nature of the sinner matters. No surprise that his own wife lies for him. One wonders why there isn’t a separate ten commandments for alpha males?

The article from which the quote above was taken makes this prediction:

Elizabeth Splits : Elizabeth Edwards helped her husband lie to press and public about his affair so it’s hard to be shocked that he continued to lie to her about the affair, really. But how much can Elizabeth take? The People magazine story is step one in the almost inevitable process of Elizabeth Edwards having to make some kind of move away from John. Could be a separation, could be more statements about her shock and disappointment at new revelations. Either way, somethings got to give.

The Hilary Clinton Syndrome. How much can Elizabeth the Sad Sad Cancer Stricken Alpha Male Alibi take? Oh, I bet she can… and will… take a whole fucking lot. A giant steaming load of shit in her face over and over and over, and she will smile and suck it up until either the media avalanche forces her to concede or the bastard kid grows up and comes knocking on her door looking a lot like daddy and bedecked in lawyersuit chic and a pompadoured twinkly-eyed slimy smile to sue the holy living hell out of her family for child support backpayments because, you see, John Edwards Alpha Male is a worthy man. Worthy enough for her to stoically suffer in humiliation.

If she’s lucky, she’ll have succumbed to the cancer before that happens.

You don’t like that I say this? It gets your panties in a wad? Fuck you and your misplaced empathy. Fuck you and your phonyfuck indignation. Especially fuck you and your happy sappy shifting morality hands across humanity meek shall inherit the karmic magical moral comeuppance excuse mongering rationalizing hypocritical there but for the grace of no one but myself go I virtue on the cheap fantasyland pissant pawn of your selfish gene replicating cog in the bloodsoaked gears of the amoral universal machine bullshit. Stare into the gaping maw of the id monster motherfuckers because I am rubbing your face in its hot stinking breath.

John Edwards’ wife lies for him knowing he was fucking and impregnating a new age whore while she lay in a hospital bed with cancer.

Somewhere in America a dutiful beta husband was just served divorce papers and subsequent financial ruin for no reason he can discern except that he didn’t excite his wife’s loins anymore.

People sometimes ask why I so deliberately and unapologetically act in my own self-interest and take what I want.
Because I know the score.
And you should too.

What Happens When You Give A Woman Testosterone

Russian female pole vaulter not only sets the world record but trash talks her foes into submission.

BEIJING, Aug 18 (Reuters) – Russia’s Olympic champion pole vaulter Yelena Isinbayeva said the world record she set on Monday had put U.S. rival Jennifer Stuczynski in her place over reported comments about going to “kick Russian butt”.

“She has never beaten me. She is talking too much. So I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to prove who is the best,” Isinbayeva, who won the gold medal while Stuczynski had to settle for silver, told reporters.

“I am not deaf. I can read interviews and hear what is being talked about. It made me really angry because I said, ‘How is it possible to speak like this about me?’

“When I found out, it wasn’t nice first of all because she must respect me and know her position. Now she knows it.”

Isinbayeva set the world record by soaring 5.05 metres, while Stuczynski’s best effort was 4.80 metres. Russian Svetlana Feofanova took the bronze with a best jump of 4.75 metres.

cellulite free since 1982.

(This chick’s buttocks swallows pole vaults whole and spits out toothpicks.)

It doesn’t matter whether the testosterone is injected or naturally raised through scientifically calibrated diet and hours in the gym pumping iron, women become more like men when they start competing for real. They get nastier, they get harder, their tits shrink, their babyfat disappears, and their attitude is all up in your grill. Most of them even begin to look like men (Yelena, dear sweet Russian Tatar babe who happens to look like one of my exes, is a notably good-looking exception among the female Olympic athletes).

The masculinization of women is inevitable at the upper levels of competitive athletics where real glory and sponsorships are on the line, because the lifeblood — the high octane fuel — of competition that matters is testosterone, the very essence of manhood. For a woman to succeed in a physically competitive endeavor, she must become more like… a man. It is required.

(And for a man to succeed in a domestic endeavor, he must become more like a woman.)

What all those Title IX supporting lesbian feminists refuse to face up to is that female athletics, and especially the elite level of female athletics broadcast on TVs around the world, is not a celebration of womanhood, it’s a celebration of manhood!

But let’s face it, the goal of American/Scandinavian feminism has always been to morph women into men. The bullhorns of the feminist movement — disproportionately lesbian and ugly — have a pathological case of penis envy. I imagine if they could legislate enlarged clitorises, they would.

raise the bar. i'm jumping her.

The kind of intramural or weekend warrioress female athletics where women exert half-assed effort and take frequent breaks to huddle together to gossip, is fine for keeping fit and cementing friendships. They will not risk chest hair growth. But watch out if your girlfriend or daughter tries out for Division I soccer, starts buying A cup sports bras, and comes home with huge bruises on her shins — she will look and act less like a real woman with each passing day unless you steer her into more feminine fitness routines, like yoga.

One of the first things I ask a girl I’m dating is if she played any team sports in high school or college. If she played soccer or field hockey *and* has dark forearm hair, I know that I will not have to wait long for sexytime. Most likely, she will want to spend a lot of time on top.

I would bang lovely Yelena with my 5.05 metre American pole.

Man Dance-Off

Three guys. One cramped dance floor space. A smooth moves battle royale to catch the attentions of the two girls with their backs turned to them. Who will take home the gold?

dancing with the sausage.

(Happy dude holding drink is Wayne Brady, providing humorous color commentary.)

Guy in the V-neck steps up first and does the robot. Not bad, but girls are unimpressed. Judges score: Backs still turned.

Guy in the fashionable “I Adidas DC” T-shirt immediately follows him and goes old school with a break dancing routine that causes people walking by to be extra careful stepping over him. Judges score: Girls briefly turn around to watch because they got bored with the guys talking to them.

Fan favorite “really tall guy in the sack-crushing capris” takes the floor and does… something really GHEY. And yet I cannot look away:

taste the rainbow.

Judges score: 10.0 for the joyous shirt, 9.0 for look of concentration, 0.0 for capturing female attention. As you can see, the girls remain unimpressed with the action, prefering to focus on their beta suitors. One girl did point and laugh.

Capri guy sat down with the judges later for a post-contest interview and it turned out he was actually kind of cool in a warped way. He admitted being bisexual (read: 100% gay).

At least he had an excuse. What were the other guys thinking? No man dances for personal enjoyment; he does it either to get close to girls already dancing or to show off his moves for girls watching. The man dance-off is like the perfect storm of gayness and toolness. As far as male status competitions go, it’s lower than drinking games.

On the streets of New York this kind of thing works because there are usually lots of girls watching to take social cues from each other that it’s acceptable to get caught up in the excitement of the status displays. It was closing time when these guys squared off and there were only a few girls nearby. Male mini-status displays don’t work as well when there aren’t lots of admiring girls to give the warriors social proof of their skills. Girls often look to other girls to gauge the alphaness of men doing questionable activities. If one girl looks over at the other girl in attendance and sees she is not paying attention to the frenetic dance-off, she will remain aloof.

You could have two dorky guys playing PINBALL and as long as there is at least one horny admiring girl in the crowd to inspire the other girls, the winning pinballer will get laid.

Reader Mailbag

This is the second installment of reader mailbag. If you do not want your question made public on the blog, say so specifically in your email, and I’ll keep my answer to you private.

Email #1

Hey there!

I need some advice, care to help a gal from Canada?

I met this guy about 6 months ago. We get along great! We have so much fun together, we laugh so much when we’re together so overall it’s been really amazing (the sexual chemistry is amazing too). The problem: I want more and he won’t give me more!! He makes up random excuses whenever I tell him I want more. It’s so frustrating! I came to the point where I told him that we shouldn’t talk/hang out anymore. He agreed but then called me cuz he missed me and said, “why can’t we continue hanging out, we have so much fun together”. He also dates other women…and then tells me about it, which makes me so sad and mad at the same time. I just don’t get it…I’m such an amazing catch!! I’m super cute, independent, fun, funny, easy going (unless I want a committment-haha!), not materialistic, caring, accommodating (esp. in the bedroom, his needs are always met), and a whole bunch of other wonderful stuff! It just blows my mind that he wouldn’t want more. It’s frustrating. So, I told him I was going to date other men (he told me that was a good idea), which I am doing but I’m in love with him, it’s so frustrating because all I want to do is make him happy and take care of him the best that I know how and he’s not interested. do you think i’m crazy? I know i deserved to be with someone who appreciates me and doesn’t take me for granted and it’s not hard for me to meet other men, but the problem is…I want HIM!

He told me that he has issues with trust. But I’m like the most trustworthy person out there…do u think he’s just playing games with me?

Any advice?

PD

You’ve come to the right plane of hell, my child. Let me get this out of the way, like a quick pull of the Brazilian wax strip. Whenever it’s the guy making excuses to avoid sex one of three things is going on.

1. He’s impotent or has a low libido.
2. He’s found someone else and his balls are too drained to give you the rogering you deserve.
3. He has stopped finding you attractive and has substituted porn for your warm hole.

Judging by your writing style I’d guess you are very young, so the odds of your boyfriend having a low libido are slim. Even if he’s much older than you, your hot young bod will spring him to action in a way that an older woman could not.

It sounds more like a combination of 2 and 3. He’s already told you point blank that he dates around, and yet you act as if this is no big deal and shouldn’t affect your relationship with him or his desire to have sex with you on demand. Are you looking to be in his harem’s first or second tier? You’re blinded by your bruised ego and have stopped seeing the forest for the trees. I’ll spell it out for you:

You’re not his number one girl.
You are one of many pussies he is banging.
He no longer feels the need to do anything for you because you slop up his runny shit and beg for more.
You are his safety school. Second fiddle. Back of the line. Slow dial booty call. Fleshlight.

I say this out of love.

“He also dates other women…and then tells me about it, which makes me so sad and mad at the same time.”

…and horny. Admit it.

Note to the men reading: This is how you manage multiple long term relationships. Just tell your girl about every date you go on, then sit back and enjoy the fruits of your pimpdom.

“I just don’t get it…I’m such an amazing catch!!”

Another Stuart Smalley acolyte heard from.

“I’m super cute, independent, fun, funny, easy going (unless I want a committment-haha!), not materialistic, caring, accommodating (esp. in the bedroom, his needs are always met), and a whole bunch of other wonderful stuff!”

Why don’t you just lick the sweat off his moist hairy balls? You believe your value is lower than his and so you try to please him without asking for anything in return but more enthusiasm for fucking you. This type of dynamic makes for the strongest relationships because women want to be the ones working for approval, but there must be some balance in the dominance-submission force. The more you make yourself his lackey the less he will think you are worthy of his gratitude. Play a little hard to get if you feel you are not getting want you want from him. If that doesn’t work then you have no choice but to ovary up and end it.

“So, I told him I was going to date other men (he told me that was a good idea),”

First, your posturing was passive-aggressive. Pouting and telling him you are going to date other men is an admission of defeat. He knows you are lashing out at him in pain, and this will only strengthen his power over you, which you can see it has by his cheeky nonchalant reply. Your better move would have been to tell him you love him, but want to spend some time apart from him to think things through. Then cut off all contact. If he calls you, you’ll now be in a position to dictate better terms for yourself.

“it’s so frustrating because all I want to do is make him happy and take care of him the best that I know how and he’s not interested.”

And that is why you want to service him like a cheap Belarusian whore. Your female reptilian hindbrain is tricking you. You don’t want to make him happy, you want to make yourself happy through him. But relying on others for your happiness is a surefire way to remain unhappy. Newsflash: He will never be interested.

“He told me that he has issues with trust.”

Of course he does. Because he knows what it’s like to break it. The world is our mirror.

“do u think he’s just playing games with me?”

It’s worse than that. This relationship was dead the second he gave you carte blanche to date other men. You are officially his downtime sperm receptacle. Time to hit the field. Go Flirt With Ten Other Guys (GFWTOG). Wear something sexy and head to the nearest bus depot immediately.

Email #2

Hey, got a little situation and wanted to solicit your insight once more (yup, you’ve gone from blogger to counselor).  To keep it short, I’m in grad school with this girl that I used to think was a complete bitch.  She seemed a little too opinionated, took herself too seriously, etc.   Somehow, though, we’ve recently become kind of cool and I’m kinda diggin her.  She’s about a year older than I but acts a little older.  Anyway, we’re kind of at that crucial tipping point where things could go either way and I wanted your thoughts on how best to avoid getting trapped in the friendship box.   Whatever you’ve got to offer would be most appreciated.

M.

Grad school girls are almost uberbitches to a woman. Think about what kind of girl decides to pursue postgraduate education. Hint: It’s not the most feminine type. So if you’re going to move on this girl, you’ll need to attack her with very strong masculine energy. “We’ve recently become kind of cool” is not gonna cut it, romcom therapyboy. Farting around like a junior high A/V club nerdling waiting for that perfect moment when the planets align and the moon reflects off her eyes like a big pizza pie to bust a move is asking for failure. Young MC wept.

Also, don’t lie to yourself. You didn’t kinda start “diggin her” after you got to know her. You were diggin her the moment you laid eyes on her cute face, tight rump, and pert tits. Your initial assessment of her as a “complete bitch” is a common defensive maneuver among the invertebratia to shield the ego from outright rejection. Every hot girl is a complete bitch to every guy she meets unless she likes him. It’s how they keep the hordes of betas at bay. You want super duper friendly? Hang out with fat chicks.

“Anyway, we’re kind of at that crucial tipping point where things could go either way and I wanted your thoughts on how best to avoid getting trapped in the friendship box.”

Tipping point? Did you pull out a protractor and measure the angle of her emotions? Come on, man, rule #1: Chicks know within MINUTES of meeting you whether you are mating material. From that point it’s your job to not fuck it up.

I’ve got good news and bad news.

Bad news: You’ve already been LJBF’ed.
Good news: Now you know.

The only way to reverse an LJBF (and it’s not easy) is complete removal of yourself from her life for a few weeks, followed by a major pickup offensive… guns blazing, tanks rolling, hands groping, game spitting. You’ve gotta make yourself less available, make her miss you. Then, when your disappearing act has rewired her brain just enough to flip the switch in a new direction, you have her meet you at your favorite bar while you’re flirting with another girl. It’s important that she sees you enjoying the company of other women.

Then, game her like you just approached her. Trust me, she’ll be pissed and confused when the new, ballsy you pulls the friendship rug out from under her. You’ve got no choice if you want to succeed in changing her opinion of you from friend to potential lover. Callous disregard for her expectations is essential. There’s a good chance you’ll lose her entirely, but that shouldn’t matter to you. It’s really win-win. Either you bed her, or you salvage your dignity.

And for fuck’s sake, don’t talk about grad school. That’ll just remind her of the old neutered you. If she brings it up, tell her you’re not interested and you’re here to have fun.

Email #3

You have a very interesting and entertaining blog, which I just recently discovered.

Question:  I am sure you have mentioned this before, but wouldn’t people who read your blog with any degree of regularity be considered “betas”?  People who take vicarious pleasure in the exploits of an alpha male sexual predator, hero, whatever?  Why would an alpha bother to read your blog?

J.S.

Are people who read stock tip blogs poor? Some are, some aren’t. Everyone wants an edge, so some are betas looking for their first love, some are alphas looking to run the table. If I had to put percentages on my readership, I’d guess 60% were classic beta males, 20% alpha males, 15% chicks who dig me for my devilish charm, and 5% dizzy clones. Oh, and Tyler Cowen reads regularly (Hi Mrs. Cowen!).

PS: Vicarious pleasure-taking is weak sauce. Any girls who want to take pleasure in my exploits directly can reach me at:

The Abyss
666 Dante Blvd.
Circle 2
8675309

How Not To Be An American Woman

When I wrote my perfect woman post, I had Slavic and Caucasus women in mind. Watch this video:

“It has most likely been a light weapon since it’s a minor wound.”

Although the video is grainy, this female reporter looks hot. She has the stunning high relief apple face typical of Slavs that gives me mighty boner. And she has a slender figure that is the norm instead of the exception for non-babushkas in her part of the world.

Ask yourself, how many women do you know who can get shot and continue working in a calm manner without crying or crumpling to the ground helpless? Now… how many HOT women do you know who can do this?

Does this seem like the type of woman who takes Cosmo sex quizzes, who organizes her mammoth shoe collection by hue, who dances on bars, who has had every hole violated and blogs about it, or who gets drunk on margaritas with her aging spinster friends before a marathon night of Sex and the City viewing?

Watch this woman and understand finally why your devalued law degree and non-profit job mean nothing to me.

Not only is she hot and can take a bullet without missing a beat, she probably knows how to cook healthy meals, haul water from the well, and orally please her man. You surmise, correctly, that given her grace under pressure after getting shot she has the strength of character to sacrifice for her children and perform her domestic duties without whining or running to a divorce lawyer at the first sign of her husband not “meeting her needs”. As a man, you will have to be strong for her, very strong, BUT LOOK WHAT YOU GET IN RETURN.

How can the modern American woman possibly compete against this? Answer: She can’t. Which is why cuntastic femicunts are feeling the heat and worked hard behind the scenes and out of the public eye to pass into law the misandrist International Marriage Broker Regulation Act, designed to make it more difficult for an American man to meet a foreign woman with a more feminine and pleasant disposition than the average American woman.

I hope American men are reading this and absorbing the lesson. Flights to East Europe are always available. You know what to do. So… what’s stopping you?