Flip Cup Game

Is there any easier venue for meeting girls than the house party? No. Think about the advantages and short cuts the house party gives you:

1. No cold approaches, only “warm” approaches. You may have never met the girl before but at a house party that doesn’t matter. There’s an expectation that people will introduce themselves to other house party guests.
2. Convenient opener material. “So how do you know [host’s name]?” Simple. Also gives you instant higher status if you know the host but she doesn’t.
3. The girls are friendlier. Where a club or bar causes bitch shields to power up to maximum deflection, a house party softens frontline defenses. Think of the house party like a Davos diplomatic circle jerk and the bars like the trenches of WWI. Where would you rather be?
4. The girls are cooler. True fact. Remember the girls you met at clubs versus the girls you met at house parties. Who did you have more fun talking to?
5. Automatic social proof. You’re at a house party so you must have friends, ergo you’re normal and socially accepted. The girls’ fear of getting hit on by a weird loner omega is alleviated.
6. NO COCKBLOCK. Seriously, how often do you see blatant CB attempts at house parties? Flocks of girls tend to disperse in the comfortable confines of a home or apartment as opposed to the perimeter defense they enforce in the bars. You’re more likely to find the CB wandering off by herself and getting lost in the kitchen having shots with the other castaway cockblocks.

DOWNSIDE

The girls won’t be as hot. The upper attractiveness tier of chicks are more validation-addicted than the lower tiers. They aren’t going to waste their best years of attention whoring in house parties when they could command a much larger audience of suckups in the clubs. But if you don’t mind sacrificing 8s and 9s for boffing 7s with agreeable personalities, then you should focus on house parties.

Flip cup and other drinking games may be retarded but they’re staples of the house party and an excellent skill every player under the age of 24 should master. You’re in close contact with the girls “accidentally” brushing up against them, the girls are getting drunker by the second, and if you’re good you can demonstrate higher status by humiliating your male competitors and showing mercy when one of them looks like he’s about to puke. If you have a high tolerance for alcohol you’ll always be one sober step ahead of the girls. A good player knows to keep his wits about him when pussy is on the line.

advanced ping pong.

A guy at this party asked me to join this energetic flip cup game. I politely declined. At my age, I’m cultivating a suave James Bond (Connery, of course) identity for myself and flip cup doesn’t fit that image. I think the girls were impressed with my tumbler of whiskey.

Speed Dating Sucks

I went to a speed dating event here in DC with my date and one of her girlfriends. The idea was that we would have some over-the-top fun with it while practicing our flirting skills on a maximum number of targets in a minimum amount of time in order to keep our game sharp. (Lord knows this is much easier for women to do. Their game amounts to cleavage.) We would pretend not to know each other. A side benefit from surreptitiously watching each other work the magic with other speed daters would be heightened sexual arousal that would resolve itself later in the night in panty-shredding lust. Kink alert in full effect.

We devised the questions we would ask our four minute “dates”. She wanted to see how much she could get away with so these were the questions with which she was going to pepper her speed suitors:

How much do you gross per year?
What kind of car do you drive?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
Can you support me so I don’t have to work?
How many cleaning ladies do you think is reasonable?
What kind of engagement ring would you get me?
How much would you allot to spend on our wedding?
What would you like to name our first born?
What does your stock portfolio look like?
If my mother gets sick, can she come live with us?
How many cats do you think is normal?
Do you mind if I hang a portrait of my cat in the living room?
I’m a scientologist. Would you be willing to convert for me?
What were your SAT scores?
What was your standing as far as getting picked in gym class?

She even wanted to bring a Barbie and Ken, give them to the guy, and say, “now act out how we would resolve an argument.”

I admit I laughed at these. If the victims guys were smart, they’d play along and say things like “I have one whole cent in my stock portfolio!” Most likely, they’d get defensive or answer straight. Speed dating crowds are that kind of people.

Since I wanted to join in the glib fun, I made up a list of questions I would ask my dates to see how far I could push my game past its barriers:

Are you flexible? How many yoga positions can you get in? How long can you keep them?
Are you confident enough to go bra-less?
Do you like sex in public?
Are you comfortable with the idea of having yourself photographed nude?
Can you suck a thick milkshake through a straw?
Are you good a good cook? (actually, i use this one a lot)
You’re not a prude, are you?
How do you feel about housework in the nude? (Seinfeld nixes it.)
Are you cool with threesomes?
Would you consider yourself experimental in the bedroom?
Do you like to travel… to have sex in exotic locales?
Does looking at a cigar turn you on?

Unfortunately, neither of us got the chance to try out our souped-up conversational skills on unwitting speed daters. When we arrived, it was clear this was the saddest crowd of lonely hearts in all of DC. The women were mid-30s to mid-40s and older and looking every bit of it and the men, while older and, from the bits of conversation I overheard, successful professionals, made it worse for themselves by dressing in rumpled shirts like accountants on casual Friday and slumping in their chairs with the familiar drawn faces of those who have been beaten down by life. My date and her friend completely lost interest in sitting through even one second of this four minute dating of the damned, so we left as soon as we got our stick-on nametags. They should call it speed dying.

The impression I got walking by the tables of speed daters was the same I got when I first visited my grandmother at a nursing home — chamber of horrors. The rank miasma of bedraggled desperation, depression, and utter hopelessness was overbearing. It settled around me like a suffocating shroud of despair, sapping all the fun out of being alive.

There is nothing more pathetic and… alien… than a pre-menopausal aging childless woman throwing herself headlong into the chaotic vagaries of dating. When a woman doesn’t have children to nurture and raise by her early 30s she morphs rapidly into a sad and tragic creature — a shell entity of raging cynicism that can do no more than go through the motions — that no one wants to be around. Whatever is left of her innate femininity, beauty and sexiness is destroyed to dust by that point. And the men, despite their well-paying jobs as corporate lawyers, lobbyists, and policy analysts, seemed to have forgotten or never bothered to learn what it takes to attract a woman. Hint: waving a stable job and a fat paycheck ain’t it.

My advice to the guys who run these speed dating and related social events in DC: Stop charging $60 to $300 for your lameass glorified happy hours. I understand you’re all about making a buck, but when you set the price at airline ticket levels you will get those men who have nothing to offer but their money, and those women who want nothing else but those men who offer nothing but their money. End result: Older bitter women desperate for husbands and boring beta males desperate to slide comfortably into sexless soulless predictable suburban ennui. If you want to spice it up and attract a more diverse, fun crowd (read: younger), try a lower price range and more casually creative get togethers. But hey, it looks like you’ve cornered the niche market of schlubs and hags who’ll pay through the nose like clockwork every week seeing the same people over and over and hoping against hope that one more contrived event and another $100 will usher their soulmates through the door.

Tick tock and all that.

Verdict: *Shudder*

Visualizing Beta Part 2

In the last installment of visualizing beta, I ridiculed discussed in an even tone the photo of a lesser beta who wasn’t comfortable enough to drape his arm like a normal human male across the shoulders of an attractive girl. His tragic case was an obvious one. Virginal nerds, like fat chicks, can be spotted from 12 parsecs.

But what about the less obvious cases? A reader sent me an email with the following pic attached and wondered if this guy had the heart of a beta beating feebly underneath his alpha exterior. He based this on his observation that the guy’s body language seems artificial and both of their poses look forced.

The guy’s hand on her (fake) boob screams over-compensation. Real alphas don’t feel a need to claim their girl’s body parts in photos. Usually what you’ll see is the alpha leaning back and the girl claiming him with her hands all over his chest or her head nestled in his shoulder. This is evidence in favor of him being a former beta who is still getting used to the alpha aura that his steroid-fueled muscles give him.

I don’t see anything forced about her pose — she seems genuinely happy to have her tit mauled, but the dark glasses could be hiding the annoyance in her eyes. On the other hand, his pose looks awkward. He looks like he’s trying too hard to impress the photographer and however many millions will see this picture on the internet. I have to admit I am impressed by his nipples of drop-forged steel. You ever see that much nipple on a man?

Although he leans in too much he’s also turned away from the girl looking at the camera. It could be worse; I’ve seen guys in pictures kissing the tops of their girls heads affectionately.

Something about his face tells me he used to be chubby and shy. If there’s such a thing as a “beta face”, like there is a “gay face“, then this guy has it. Pouty lips, deer in the headlights eyes, a shadow of self-doubt. The overall impression is one of a muscular body attached to the wrong head.

This brings up an important issue — can a big guy be a beta? Absolutely, but it’s not nearly as common as a weak spindly man being a beta. If a guy has seriously crippling inner game issues then no matter how much muscle he piles on his weak game will betray him. This is why you can’t consistently judge an alpha male by appearances. Some of the toughest guys I knew bumbled and stumbled in the presence of women.

Since alphaness is ultimately a state of mind and heart, a beta face or an alpha body don’t tell the whole story about a man and his success with women. While a man’s physical appearance correlates with his womanizing prowess it’s far from one-to-one. See: Zach Braff.

However, if a guy gets huge there’s no doubt he’ll carry himself with more confidence. A man can’t help but feel on top of the world when he’s physically more imposing than 90% of all men. For this reason I recommend all men throw iron. It’s not as efficient or as effective as learning game or being excellent in some endeavor that matters to women, but it’s a tangible display of strength that’s bound to increase confidence. And girls like muscle on a man, all else being equal.

As long as men don’t make the common mistake of believing getting huge will automatically improve their notch count they should consider weightlifting (and I’m not opposed to the use of steroids for hardgainers like myself) an excellent adjunct to strengthening what really matters — their sense of self.

Verdict: Lesser Alpha, Former Beta

May 2008 Comment Winner

For the second time in a row* (there was no April comment winner because all the comments in April sucked) droll and deadpan blogfly Gannon takes home the prize with his comment on my post Overheard In DC:

The real culprit is that women’s extended adolescence increases each year. Age of first marriage delys itself more and more, specially among high and middle class (middle class girls aspire to be high class) women. A lot of women nowadays marry at around 30, an age where their fertility has decreased a lot. Sure, a lot of women in their thirties have children. But also, a lot of women in their thirties can’t have children anymore. The real age brackets which always have produced the most children are the women aged 16-30. That is the age when women can produce the next generation. Teen girls are as fertile as shit. Fuck a 16 year old girl three times, and voilá, she will be knocked up. You can fuck some 30something year old woman for months, use a table to determine her fertile days, raise her hips to allow your spunk to get to the matrix but even then that gal’s belly won´t grow.

Can’t argue with the facts, but what I really liked was his description of a woman’s reproductive organs as the “matrix”. When you plunge into a woman’s furrow it really is like entering an alternate universe of flytraps, clanking gears, flesh portals, and undulating catacombs.

Gannon’s comment reminded me of the movie Juno. She sits on a cock once for two seconds and gets pregnant, while some 33 year old somewhere is hopped up on witch doctor fertility drugs imported from India and dangling upside-down from a mechanical contraption at the exact moment the moon enters its third phase crescent and Jupiter aligns with Uranus, barking at her man to hurry up and finish the job as she grips the base of his shaft to squeeze out the last life-giving droplet and he drops dead from a heart attack from overexerting himself in an activity that has ceased to be enjoyable.

May 2008 Comment Winner Runner-Up is Shivani on my post From Kitten To Cougar:

GAWD!!! never have I ever been more disgusted by a post but at the same time couldn’t take my eyes off of it.

My work here is done.

Wild Monkey Man Beast Caught On Film!

How Zeets the Throwback Barbarian was able to hold the camera steady when encountering this mysterious and frightening creature deep in the woods is a testament to his nipples of drop-forged steel. You never saw that much hard nipple on a man.

I went on a hike trying to escape civilization and its discontents for a few hours. It’s important for a man to get away from women before he imbibes too much estrogen and loses touch with his inner ballsack. You want to retreat to places most women dare not tread.

Unfortunately, the woods of Rock Creek Park isn’t deep enough. Yes, this jogging woman is blabbing into her cell phone, probably scolding her beta boyfriend to remember to pick up cat litter. This is her on the return trip of her run. She had jogged by us going the opposite direction a half hour earlier with the cell phone glued to her ear, ruining the sounds of nature with her obnoxious voice. I’ll leave it as an exercise for the reader to determine what it says about a person who can’t put down the fucking cell for one minute while surrounded by natural beauty.

I say we reintroduce wolves to the Northeast wilds. That’ll keep the yuppie broads out.

Another nature girl with a cell in the woods. Remember this when a chick waits a day to return your call. They bring their cell phones on nature hikes because they can’t bear to miss a call; they got your message.

This woman was cool though. She had a thoroughbred horse with her that ran for three years at the Belmont racetrack. What a magnificent stallion.

Tree vagina. What I do to women after they have experienced my oak-like girth.

A tree suicide pact.

My soul is nourished. Back to Tryst to peer over laptops at cute girls.

Who Art Thou?

The time has come for me to reveal myself.

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I am Ripper… Tearer… Slasher… Gouger. I am the Teeth in the Darkness, the Talons in the Night. Mine is Strength… and Lust… and Power! I AM BEOWULF! 

I vote that the two greatest scenes of manliness in cinema are the fight between a naked Beowulf and Grendel, and the promise made by Jim Braddock to his first-born son in Cinderella Man that he’ll always put food on the table for his family. Why do I consider these scenes representative of manliness? Because they illustrate the purest and most admirable ideals of the protector and the provider — or, if you want, the alpha and the beta.

In Beowulf, Grendel attacks the town’s gathering house and Beowulf prepares to meet him in mano a mano battle. But Beowulf does something peculiar just before Grendel arrives — he strips naked. He explains he wants to meet the monster on its own terms, without shield or sword to aid him. The symbolism is profound. Besides Beowulf’s insane bravery, the act of stripping away his protective garments and weapons is an act of disdain for his own fear. He’s not just facing a monster; he’s facing his self-doubt. Armor and weapons pay tribute to that fear and doubt in the sense of security those items engender.

The deeper symbolism is the relation of his nakedness to the shucking off of all materialism and cultural adornments — a man cannot be closer to his manhood until he has unburdened himself of superfluous attachments. It’s a disdain not just for his fear, but for anything that acts to safeguard him from realizing the full measure of his manhood. The parallel to modern society could not be more apt. The West’s dizzying array of entertainment distractions, stern ideologies, false politeness, weak-willed conformism, and techno gadgets has created a bubble-like pampered existence that has sapped the manly essence from so many men.

Men need the freedom of their nakedness again.

Where Beowulf is the iconic super alpha protector, Russell Crowe’s Jim Braddock character in Cinderella Man elevates the provider beta side of manhood to respectability. He fights through painful injury so his children can have food on the table and he can pay the heating bills. He loves his wife and is faithful to her when he has opportunities to cheat. But Braddock is not all beta in the sense that it has come to mean today. He’s a boxer and a stoic. His betaness tempers his natural alphaness and that makes the difference. Beta is not respectable unless it is paired with alpha.

Had Braddock been 100% beta, he would have succumbed to the beta’s mortal weakness — the lack of ego, which is the opposite of the alpha’s mortal weakness — too much ego. He would have acceded to his fear and quit boxing, taking up a dull 9 to 5 gig to make ends meet. He would have assented to his wife shipping his kids off to her aunt’s so they could eat because his ego would not have been strong enough to be revolted by the prospect of his wife’s relatives doing the job that he couldn’t do.

Beowulf and Braddock — ambassadors for the dueling forces in every man. In order for these forces to reconcile, beta must be subservient to alpha, and alpha must make room for beta. There can be no other way that doesn’t diminish a man’s soul.

Stray Thoughts On The Nature Of The Game

Don’t answer all of a girl’s questions, especially when it feels like you are being interrogated. Refraining from giving her satisfactory answers helps move the seduction forward in two ways. One, it builds mystery. Two, if you answer all her questions she has more material with which to judge you when she gets home after the date and mulls everything over in her chaotic head. Don’t be surprised if you don’t get a call back after you have dutifully answered all her questions.

***

The best reason to learn game is that it is a shortcut to a woman’s pussy and heart. With game, you can stop wasting years as an empty vessel of society’s expectations scraping and clawing your way into a respectable bourgeois existence for your shot at one mediocre pussy and a gift registry at Williams & Sonoma. There is no need to become an “alpha among men” when you can skip the middleman and go straight to becoming an “alpha among women”. Of course, becoming an alpha among men is fun in its own right, but it’s no longer necessary to enjoy a life filled with the love of beautiful and sexy women. In fact, it never was necessary.

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When the revelation that there is nothing after this life but the illimitable black void is grasped, hedonism is the only logical answer.

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When a girl asks you “What are you thinking about right now?” know that this is code for “I’m really falling for you and want to know if you feel the same about me.” Don’t be an earnest beta and make the mistake of taking the bait! Avoid saying “I think I’m in love with you” or “I’m thinking about us” at all costs. Instead, say something like “I can’t think right now because you’ve paralyzed my thoughts.” Or, if you want to keep it simple, say “Um, nothing.”

Maxim #6: Never Make It Easy For A Girl

– Sometimes a girl will drop a stinky bait. Don’t bite! She wants to chase you around the lake forever.

***

Never tell a girl you are looking for a relationship. Many girls will ask, sometimes as early as the first date, what you are looking for from women. For the love of all that is holy and sacred do NOT say you are in the market for a relationship. Similarly, never say you wouldn’t mind “settling down”, or that you are discouraged by the dating scene, or you really wish you could stop dating around and find the right girl. It doesn’t matter if you truly feel this way; saying any of these out loud, especially to a girl you have just started dating, is poison to the seduction. Best to either ignore her probing question or answer vaguely along the lines of “I dunno, just dating until I find a girl I click with.” Also, saying “Whoa, not so fast tiger!” can be funny and stimulating to her vagina.

***

Slap your girl’s ass in public once in a while, hard. Territorial pissing is a turn-on in small spurts.

***

When you are with your girl and another alpha male is the center of attention (let’s say by being funny, or juggling balls) the best thing you can do is casually and briefly acknowledge his talents and otherwise ignore him. She will poke you for weakness whenever a bigger dog struts on the scene, so you’d be smart to be aware of this irrepressible female urge and not get defensive. NEVER imply that a bigger alpha is a threat to you, either in anger or in sarcastic putdown. You are who you are, which is the best she will ever have, so if some guy is a great karaoke singer and you’re offstage enjoying the show it’s no big deal — his skills cannot begin to compete with your total package, so you are free to compliment him without a hint of resentment.

Maxim #7: Your girl will thank you for your steadfast devotion to your belief in yourself.

***

When your girl buys you something or gets you a present, don’t immediately buy her something in return. No girl wants to feel like you got her a gift out of obligation. Tit for tat kills the sexy fun vibe. She appreciates your gifts when you are motivated by nothing else but your warm feelings for her. In this vein, it’s better to give her gifts at random times, rather than on birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays.

***

Speaking of gifts, the best players I know buy their girls NOTHING. And their girls love them with everything they have. Talk about trashing societal admonishments.

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As a birthday gift for your girl, a grape seed oil massage beats a tennis bracelet EVERY TIME.

***

If you want to save money, doing things for a girl is always better than buying things for her. So, for example, learn photography and shoot sexy nude black and white photos of her. Or take her for a ride on a scooter through the countryside. She’ll appreciate that a lot more than a trendy item with a high price tag.

***

Fucking a girl right is worth more than a $20,000 engagement ring. I am not kidding.