Dread

There are two ways to guarantee a healthy relationship. By healthy, I mean the girl is in love with you and there is no threat of her leaving; you have all the leverage you need to assure yourself peace of mind and a steady sexual outlet.

• Meet your soulmate

If you are extremely lucky enough to cross paths with your soulmate this is the easiest way to live the kind of romantic bliss that Hollywood movies exalt. A soulmate connection is the Golden Ticket to happiness and a dreamlike existence. But it is rare. Don’t live as if it will happen to you. I estimate 1% of all men and 2% of all women meet their soulmates. The reason for the discrepancy is that male soulmates are in shorter supply than female soulmates. Male soulmates are shared amongst the women like a community hookah.

• Instill dread

Women respond viscerally in their vagina area to unpredictability, mixed signals, danger, and drama in spite of their best efforts to convince themselves otherwise. Managing your relationship in such a way that she is left with a constant, gnawing feeling of impending doom will do more for your cause than all the Valentine’s Day cards and expertly performed tongue love in the world. Like it or not, the threat of a looming breakup, whether the facts justify it or not, will spin her into a paranoid estrogen-fueled tizzy, and she’ll spend every waking second thinking about you, thinking about the relationship, thinking about how to fix it. Her love for you will blossom under these conditions. Result: she works harder to please you.

The key for the man is to adopt a posture of blase emotional distance alternated with loving tenderness. Too much of either and she’ll run off.

Examples of effective doom inducement:

Turn off your cell phone twice a week. Alternate days. Don’t do this on a Friday or Saturday night unless the relationship is shaky and needs a high voltage jolt of dread.

Make a blatant but plausibly deniable move on one of her friends when she’s not around. The news will get back to her. Milk it.

Call her from a very busy place so that she can hear women’s voices laughing and shrieking in the background. Don’t tell her where you are when she asks. Just say you’ll see her soon.

Mention how skilled your Russian ex was at giving head. Bring it up again a few days later, pretending not to remember the first time you mentioned it. Bonus: Russians are very good at giving head, so this will have the ring of truth.

Be seen by your girlfriend flirting with other women in a social venue. Extra points if the women are attractive. Double extra points if you flirt without looking back at your girlfriend once to check her reaction.

Cook her a romantic candlelight dinner at home. Make it a memorable experience, complete with jazz, chocolate, and rose petals. Then, do not talk with her for four days afterwards.

Ignore her calls for a week. When you eventually answer and she reads you the riot act, act as if nothing was wrong and accuse her of sabotaging a perfectly good relationship, “just like all the other women in this stupid city. I thought you were different”. Hang up on her angrily.

When her best friend tells you how cute you and your girlfriend look together, shrug, put your hand to the back of your neck as if to scratch an itch there, look down slightly and with a mildly annoyed expression blandly sigh “Yeeeeah…”. Triple bonus points if your girlfriend is standing right there.

When she attempts the jealousy maneuver by flirting with another guy, act unfazed. Give her pickup tips.

Gaze longingly into her eyes, say how hot she looks, then immediately glance sidelong at the bosom of any strange woman in the vicinity.

Have a threesome. Spend an inordinate amount of time admiring the labia of the other woman. Be sure to moan louder with her. WARNING: If you cum on the other woman you will have to spend weeks consoling your girlfriend.

Say things like “I really value my independence and freedom” relevant to nothing in particular. It’s just a thought that popped in your head.

Thermonuclear Option:

Have an affair and make sure she finds out about it. Arrange the confrontation so that it does not happen at your place. When she confronts you, don’t get defensive. Don’t speak at all. Let her vent. Let her punch you in the chest and scream obscenities. When she takes a breather, tell her she’s never looked more beautiful and you will never stop loving her. Then without waiting for her response calmly walk out the door and break off all contact for two weeks. When she comes back to you… and she will… you will have a love slave for life.

Hardest Challenges

What is challenging for one man may not be so difficult for another. A virgin might think that getting his first lay is the pinnacle of achievement, but to a singer in an indie band with excellent emoting skills getting laid is an afterthought. There are some challenges however that are difficult to accomplish for almost all men.

• Converting a lesbian

Not a bisexual girl. Those are a dime a dozen. I mean committed lesbians; the ones who have never been pierced by man love and know as much about cabinet resurfacing as Bob Vila. Turn a decent-looking scissor sister into a traitor to her orientation even for one night and you will have earned the respect of your peers. Bonus points if you pick her up at a Vagina Monologues show.

• Threesome

Yeah, it’s cliched, but that doesn’t change the fact that despite the braggadocio of countless pornstars in their own minds this accomplishment is pretty rare. If the average American man has seven lifetime partners it’s a safe bet that he didn’t blow the bulk of his lifetime wad on three nights with six different women. Pull a threesome and your name will echo throughout the realms. Film it and it will echo throughout YouPorn.

• Having sex with a religious girl in a place of worship

Sure, repressed Catholic girls will hike their skirts in the back seat of a car under the watchful eye of St. Christopher, but try and get her to renounce her chaste ways in an empty church pew or in the rectory while a six foot tall crucifix gives her the stink eye. Ditto for other religions. Ever bang a Jewish girl in a temple? A Buddhist in a monastery? Or… wait for it… a non-Americanized Muslim girl in a mosque? You do the last and manage to avoid decapitation your name will be legend and spoken of in hushed tones around campfires and at men’s retreats.

• Staying in love

Falling in love is nothing special. People do it all the time. Staying in love, and having it reciprocated just as strongly, is another trick altogether. Don’t listen to the rainbows and unicorns brigade; the world is not awash in a field of love consciousness. It is instead awash in fear, hatred, anger, jealousy, duplicity, lust, ego… and occasionally love. There is a reason so many people yearn for the life-giving power of requited love and that is because it is so rare. Stay in love with a girl who loves you back and you will secretly be hated by everyone. Kind of like lottery winners.

• Having sex with a girl who is already in love with another man

Why is this so hard? See above. As extraordinary as deep long-lasting love is, seducing a girl in such a state away from the object of her love for an illicit tryst is rarer still. Even the best players advocate learning to recognize the signs of a girl in love with her boyfriend and moving on to more pliable targets. A girl in love gives off a vibe that screams “I don’t even notice other guys”. Try and overcome *that* bitch shield. This is the Holy Grail of male challenges, and if you accept this challenge and succeed your name becomes a powerful symbol of evil in the world, scribbled in angry lettering on the back of notebooks by ostracized goth kids in high schools everywhere.

Gaming “Type A” Girls

The Type A and Type B personality theory (or Type A and Type B behavior pattern) divides the population of humans into two groups, based on their personality characteristics.

People who fall under Type A exhibit characteristics such as being impatient, excessively time-conscious, insecure about one’s status, highly competitive, hostile and aggressive, and incapable of relaxation. Type A individuals are often high-achieving workaholics who multi-task, drive themselves with deadlines, and are unhappy about the smallest of delays.

Cute girl approaches me. She looks vaguely like Hilary Swank, but with better teeth. Her posture is ramrod straight. The smile on her face doesn’t falter. She never breaks eye contact. Her energy is intense. I feel like I should salute her.

Her: I saw you standing over here trying to look cool so I figured I’d come over and say Hi.

Me: “Trying”?

Her: What’s your name?

Me: That was fast. Let’s get creative. Ask another question.

Her: What do you do?

Me: Look cool.

Her: So you work for free? Because I’ve seen better.

Me: No… you haven’t. Hey, I just saw you gaming some guy right over there. Are you going around the bar practicing your flirting skills?

Her: I’m winging for my friend. [she points to a dude across the room] I was occupying the guy talking to me so my friend could hit on the girl in his group. I gave him a number I never answer.

Me: You’re like the female version of a player. For some reason I think you’re proud of that.

Her: [beaming] Yes, I am! [stares daggers into me] So, really, what do you do?

Me: Back to this again. OK, I make it hard for girls like you to get a straight answer. I get the feeling you want guys to be intimidated by you.

Her: You aren’t intimidated by me? Because most guys are.

Me: I’m shaking in my boots.

***

This edgy, in-your-face banter lasted for 15 minutes, escalating every step of the way. The longer it lasted, the more she became intrigued, her facial expressions getting animated with each new pseudo-insult. It was fun for me… for the first 30 seconds… then I became annoyed. High octane antagonistic flirting can quickly devolve into a farce and when that happens the momentum is lost. Sassy works in measured doses; more than that and it turns into bitchy. And despite the latest cultural meme to the contrary, guys don’t really like bitches. We prefer sweet.

Unfortunately, DC is filled to the brim with Type A girls. A brimful of assholes on the 45. So you have to learn to love confrontational flirting, because that’s what these girls use to separate you from the rest of the pack. It’s all they know. The better you parry her, the higher she bumps you up her male scale.

The trick is to give her what she wants at first, then pull it away and force her into your courtship tempo. Type A girls are actually *easier* to attract than Type B girls because they are simple creatures who respond reflexively to men who don’t wilt under their onslaught. Type Bs tend to be more inscrutable and sensitive; one bold move can close them off to you for good if they take it the wrong way. You’ve got more leeway with Type As to flirt outrageously, but the downside is that they are skilled at preventing you from moving the seduction forward. If you’re not careful, you’ll have a crazy fun time with her for 20 minutes… then walk home empty-handed.

Spend a few minutes attracting her, then firmly change the tone of the conversation. Say something like “Well, this is fun, but it would be better if we sat down over there and had a real conversation.” Or do a cold read: “I have an intuition about you. You come across so forward and intense, with a big wall built up around you, but inside there’s a sensitive vulnerable girl who just wants any chance to show the right guy the side of her that she hides from the world.”

Find an excuse to get her to move to a quieter spot where you can sit her down. Type As lose a lot of their incessant cockiness when they are sitting down. The physical act of sitting seems to humble them a bit. Whatever you do, don’t bother number closing a Type A if you haven’t moved past the flirting and gotten her to open up to you about something personal. You’ll know you have done this when the smile plastered on her face all night finally takes a break. Type As are very social and flirt with lots of men. She will forget you as soon as she’s left the bar to go home if your interaction with her was entirely superficial.

Unbridgeable Chasm and a Recap

There was a contest for the best pictures on the internet for 2007 and the winners of the ‘Favorite Photo for Male Voters’ and ‘Favorite Photo for Female Voters’ categories really says a lot about what turns us on visually.

Here is the photo judged most pleasing by male voters:

No surprise. I would’ve liked to have seen some green nipples for realism.

Here is the photo judged most pleasing by female voters:

The lesson is clear. Men have women’s bodies on the brain, and when they can’t ogle a real woman’s body they’ll settle for a mossy likeness. Women have cute animals, babies, and maternal love on the brain. And when they can’t enjoy these things they become lawyers. In previous generations, the husband spent a few nights a week out of the house playing poker with his buddies. There was no concept of married couples sharing all aspects of their lives together. I think they had it right.

In other news, the hipster happy hour last Friday brought a lot of love, although there weren’t many authentic hipsters at Marvin, just a lot of yuppies dancing ineffectually. There was rampant binge alcoholism and some were found passed out on their couches afterwards.

This looks like it was a very sweet dream.

Right Wing Slam Poetry

a welcome send-up. 

When A Girl Needs An Asshole

I met a pretty blonde girl for a first date at one of my favorite lounges (that is to say, the lounge met the requirement of being conveniently located within walking distance of my place). Halfway through the marry, boff, kill game we had the following conversation.

Her: Have you seen that VH1 show The Pickup Artist?

Me: Yeah, why?

Her: The main guy from the show, Mystery, hit on me at St Louis Bar a few weeks ago.

Me: Was he wearing a fuzzy hat with aviator goggles and a Victorian jacket over a t-shirt that said “Mystery”?

Her: Yes! Just like in the show.

Me: [thinking to myself a trip to Poland sounds good right about now] How did he do?

Her: He asked me for my opinion about something, and then made fun of me. I called him an asshole and told him to fuck off.

Me: Lemme guess… you were kind of attracted to him, right?

Her: No! He’s an asshole.

Me: Wow, you’re one of those! I thought you guys were a dying breed.

Her: One of what?!

Me: You’re drawn to assholes. It’s OK, you can be honest. I won’t judge.

Her: [stares at me for a few seconds] I’ll admit that in the past I was drawn to assholes. But there was no way he was getting a chance with me. The guy is a D-list celebrity. Not even! He’s a total douche.

Me: And yet a month later you’re still thinking about that moment.

Maxim #3: Whenever an attractive girl tells you she hates assholes, or describes her experience in the past dating assholes and claims to avoid them now, or recites a laundry list of asshole-y things guys do that she disapproves of, you can bet your weight in gold bricks that she needs you to be an asshole to her.

After this illuminating conversation I knew that I had miscalibrated her and realized I should have played up my asshole side. Consequently, likelihood of a second date was low. When I go out with girls I have a system where I rank them according to how much asshole behavior they will need to open their legs heart for me. I’m usually pretty good at this and can switch on my asshole persona at will.

For instance, if she’s a 10 on the 1 to 10 asshole craving scale, I will occasionally tell her, with a flash of anger, to “shut the fuck up” when she tries to shit test me. If she’s a 1, I’ll be Mr. Nice Guy and compliment her on her choice of shoes. If she’s in the middle of the asshole craving scale (where most cute young girls are), I’ll get her to buy me an expensive drink. Normally, I can accurately assess whether a girl is an asshole craver early in the pickup, usually within the first minute, by how bright her eyes shine when I disrespect her. If she pushes me away in mock indignation, that tells me I’ve hit pay dirt. But this time my date’s calm, intelligent, giggle-free demeanor and conservative dress had me fooled into thinking she had a low asshole craving quotient. A rookie mistake.

A part of me was pleased that I was on a date trying to get into the panties of the same girl that the infamous Mystery tried and, presumably, failed to pick up a few weeks earlier. But a bigger part of me was grossed out by the nagging thought that every girl I’ve dated in the past three years has been hit on over and over by hundreds, maybe thousands, of acolytes of the game all running the same routines and wearing matching armbands and unusual pendants.

Later that night, after the date, I went to another bar and asked two girls how well they knew each other. They said the night before a guy had given them “the best friends test and asked us what shampoo we used.” I made a mental note to pirate the Pimsleur series on learning Polish.

Are European Girls Better Lays?

I usually dismiss arguments like this out of hand because I believe that it’s not the girl that makes the lay but the strength of attraction between the girl and the guy. The more you like each other, the more explosive the sex will be, regardless of country of origin.

But now I wonder if there isn’t some truth to this theory besides anti-American posturing. Thinking back on every sexual interaction I ever had (my memory is sharp in this area) and comparing the experiences with the foreign girls to my compatriots, I arrive at the inescapable conclusion that the foreigners (mostly European, including Russian) were better lays.

Evidence based on general trends:

European – Naturally lubricated. Initial thrust executed without needing to pry apart the labia with my fingers first.

American – Bottle or tube of lube always within reach.

European – Expert at being on top. I felt confident she would not break my dick bone with a false move.

American – Girl on top always had an element of fear. I had to expend wasteful energy grabbing her hips firmly and preventing her from rising up too far off my dick and disengaging, or shifting awkwardly to the side or backwards.

European – Requested anal.

American – Frightened of it. Needed multiple reassurances.

European – Understood that tongue pressure was as important as saliva and making an O shape out of her mouth for enjoyable blowjobs. Often pressed it against the inside of her cheek contributing to visual as well as tactile stimulation.

American – Where did her tongue go? And why is her hand doing most of the work?

European – Met my thrusts with equal fervor, like colliding asteroids of flesh.

American – Received my thrusts passively. Brief moments of minor hip grinding.

European – Threw the sheets off when having sex.

American – Pulled the sheets over us when having sex.

European – Banged as often during the daytime as at night.

American – Day sex was infrequent. At night, didn’t even like a light on in another room.

European – Peed in front of me on the first night together.

American – 3 month waiting period before being allowed to see her sitting on the bowl.

European – Liked to smoke after morning sex.

American – Liked to talk about what we’re “going to do today” after morning sex. (this one’s a wash)

European – Public sex is a rite of passage. Parks, woods, movie theaters, my Mom’s couch.

American – Public sex is doing it with the TV on in the background.

Game, set, match: Euro babes.

European women seem more open and experimental than American women. They are less neurotic and don’t sweat the small stuff. Most importantly, they live in the moment. American women are constantly worried how they look in the wrong lighting, and how the ambiance has to be just right for them to feel comfortable getting naked. When a European girl is post-coital you know her mind is clear and she is giving herself over to the pleasure. An American girl is going through her appointments in her head, wondering if she has enough time in her busy schedule to squeeze in a spa treatment.

***

On a completely unrelated note, I am planning a future extended trip to Poland, Estonia, and possibly Hungary. I expect to meet the barely legal girl of my dreams there. If anyone has advice how to make the most of my time in that part of the world feel free to email me or leave a comment.