WS has a complaint I hear often from a certain demographic of men: he believes it’s unrealistic to expect a man under duress to have charming quips at his disposal.

Her: you’re friendzoned!

Him: I love a girl who plays hard to get.

Him: YESSSSSS! I’m single again! FREEDOM BABY!

Him: Yeah, we’re just friends…with benefits lzzlolzlol!

It’d be great if life was like an 80’s action movie where you could just fire off one-liners that utterly defeated your opponents but, realistically, the guy probably handled it the only way he possibly could have without burning his life to the ground.

This pessimism betrays a lack of experience hanging out with male friends who do well with women, or who are generally favored guests at any party. I know many men who are adept at firing off those tingle-inducing one liners under pressure. With experience and the right attitude, the quips become second nature.

Experience: women don’t tongue-tie you. They aren’t mysteriously opaque creatures you have to wrack your brain to figure out what language they speak. You have bedded them before; you are confident you will bed them again. You know girls enjoy getting teased, and over time you’ve learned how to tease for maximum quimpact.

The Right Attitude: You have outcome independence, an abundance mentality, a self-assured entitlement complex that permits a charming familiarity and ease of communication with women you’ve just met. Your interactions are lucid, compact, comfortable, and friendly. You don’t strain for words because deep in the pit of your gut you don’t feel a need to impress any one particular woman; if this chick isn’t charmed, the next one will be. Teasing one-liners are your go-to bantz formula because you are more interested in not boring yourself than you are in not boring the girl you’re chatting up.

A buddy I occasionally hang out with is a master of quips. When we’re shooting stick, he’ll pause mid-strike to accost a passing cutie with a jerkboy mofo one-liner. He rarely regurgitates one liners verbatim because his humor is all contextual and situational. (His one liners do share a common theme, comedic element, timing, and tone, though.) Neither does he bother with “deep thoughts” or monologues; the man is a wrecking ball of pussy-parting pith. The girls lap it up like hungry kitties starved for cocky asshole affection.

One time I met his dad, and discovered he had the same facility with teasing quips as jerkboy jr. This confirmed for me something I’ve always assumed based on personal observation: those men who have mastery of in-the-moment quips that beta males insist are the stuff of scripted TV sitcoms are in fact very real and move among us. And some of them learn their craft at dad’s side, watching him charm the ladies and soaking up the lessons. This is another reason why fatherlessness sucks; it deprives many developing young men of mentorship in the ways of charismatic seduction.

What I’m saying is that these quips and the skill to use them in high pressure situations are often a generational artifact: granddad to dad to son (the inheritance continuity possibly broken by the phaggiest generation ever — the millennials) passing on the same or similar one liners they used on grandma, mom, and today’s tatted monstrosities. Quips — and male charisma in general — are cultural memes: the original meme machine before /pol/ exploited the executable and weaponized transmission of tingle-gushing cadquips into soul-killing cogdis weapons against the Shitlib Left.

Dads are only one source of charisma transmission. Many “naturals” learned the art of the quip by having as friends coolasfuck dudes who had the gift of gab. Men also learn by watching unfamiliar men successfully flirt with cute girls, and by observing the girls’ reactions to the torrent of monosyllabic teasing. Unwittingly, these beguiled girls show bystanding men the jizzropes.

The point of saying all this is that you don’t have to be that hapless beta pastry on that TV game show, flustered, despondent, and butthurt by your oneitis’s cold shank, reduced by the cruelty of her surprise attack to muttering lamely and garnishing your emotional pain for the viewing audience to feast upon. You CAN learn charisma, and the art of the quip, and learn it well enough to make it a regular and spontaneously summoned feature of your SMV-projecting conversational habits.

Staying slender is no reprieve from the Wall, ladies. When you get old, your slender figure turns skeletal and the flesh droops like canvas drapes off the bones. Your best bet for delaying critical Wall impact is weightlifting (notably squats) in conjunction with cardio. You lose that tender adipose fat soon after your early 20s and you need something to replace it — muscle — to keep your curves and protuberances in the right boner-inducing size and place.

PS: Men: let this be a lesson. That 35 year old sexpot teacher you have the hots for when you’re fourteen? Have fun with her, but don’t marry her. When you’re 45, she’ll be 66, and that’s the boner killer for which there is no cure.

As if the only reason white people ever existed was to work seven days a week so n****rs and half a planet’s worth of be*ner dogshit can collect a fucking welfare check.
MPC Status Updates

The notion that Whites owe nonWhites anything is the Big Lie underpinning the central conceit of shitliberalism. When this Big Lie finally evaporates, as it must under the burden of reality, the West will find its footing again and its rebirth will commence.

Hat tip, El Kapitan, who writes,

Check out this one. It sums up western Europe so beautifully:

-A rude, aggressive immigrant openly breaking the law.
-A well meaning but completely powerless “native” man.
-A virtue signaling woman, complete with what appears to be a variation of a pussy hat. Prepare to feel organically misogynistic by the end.

Englishmen are the world’s most pathetic White Knights. Even the stronger among them who have the stones to reprimand a drunk migrant on public transit will wilt like summer flowers under the stern gaze of one of their shitlib women.

And just as expected, the Pathetic White Knight receives for his valor the reward of one of his own women coming to the defense of the ingrate migrant. You know how those Western educated shitliberal chicks dig jerkboys! Maybe that’s the problem…Western women don’t want to be their Western men’s women any longer; they want to be the Swarth World’s women.

williamk adds,

My shilling is on limey. Firm, still body language, holds eye contact. Migrant always looks away first and has more random, uncontrolled energy. Would it translate to a fight? Don’t know, but the brit is clearly the alpha of the dynamic here. He even gets up for the “lady” and then swats away her little soliloquoy with total frame control.

Like DNC, I suspect gypsy. Would a “polish” guy be so quick to play the “race” card? I truly don’t know, UK brahs can help – do poles play the racial outsider angle like this? Its fishy.

The drunk looks gypsy or Serb to me, but he could be a mixed ethnicity Pole. Poles have assimilated well in the US, having caused very little trouble historically in this country. I can tell you for sure that if this migrant had been a kebab or cannibal, our Englishman would have taken a knife to the gut as soon as he opened his mouth to complain. But I agree with williamk; the limey has the alpha body language and vocal tone here. Too bad he gives it all away as soon as yon faire maiden chastised him.

“Shut up, cunt,” was the only acceptable response to that fishmouth termagant when she decided to stretch out her piehole and virtue snivel for the assembled.

I can tell you this…White Men of the West are getting pissed off. If the current state of Uppity Phaggotry will ever end, it will be at the hands and by the will of angry White Men.

White men want their White women to stand by them in their fight against the Invasion. Instead, our White women prefer betrayal. They won’t be loyal until White men wield the pimp hand again. And that means White Knights have to be as mercilessly mocked as is civilization’s mortal in-house enemy, the pursed-lip pussyhatter femcunt.

Sanctimonious, virtue sniveling White women who refuse to fight for their nations by standing by their men are mortal enemies of the West. They will only defer to the pimp hand.


A pro comment from Scanman:

Note the invader’s assertion that “you have no right to tell me not to drink. Tell the police.”

The idea that rules are something members of a community agree to abide by in order to maintain certain standards and quality of life of the community is a high trust culture idea (Anglo Saxon, Germanic, Scandinavian).

In asiatic/Mid East/African cultures, rules are something decreed from the top down to be obeyed solely to avoid punishment. If you can reliably avoid punishment (which this belligerent asshole knew for certain that he could), there is no reason to obey them.

Now keeping this in mind, someone please explain to me how The Bill of Rights survives when the founding Anglo Saxon stock becomes a minority in the US. If you think Guatemalans or Nigerians give two fucks about such things, you are completely deluded. It was something they had to know to pass the citizenship exam. Nothing more.

Society is a genetic construct. Women don’t have to understand it but they sure as hell have to abide by it or we might as well just burn the whole bitch down.

I’d argue it’s a fool’s errand trying to impart understanding of biocultural realities to women; they will only revolt against those realities. Better and more effective to expect women to simply abide social rules. The trick is ensuring that the social rules are created by White men and not by ingrate invaders.

Some women, either through malice or naivete, have the worst timing and execution when dropping the LJBF bomb on their longtime beta male orbiters. Like this ballcutter:

An experienced man would never find himself in this situation, but most men aren’t experienced with women, so they are easily victimized by emotional and resource objectifying women who use them for attention and gibs without having to provide sexual release in return.

Some say the video is staged; I don’t think so.  Both of their reactions seem spontaneous and authentic to their sex (the female recklessly indulges cruelty and the male is surprised his ardor isn’t reciprocated). We’ll proceed as if the clip is the real deal.

Right after she cackles murderously and chirps “we’re friends!”, you can see the moment that her poison-tipped shiv strikes beta ventricle (around 0:07). It looks like this:

At 0:16 our soulkilled beta tries the “It’s complicated” line (maybe he read about its usefulness at a PUA blog?), but it falls flat because the context was all wrong (it can’t be used effectively after one is freshly castrated) and the girl nonetheless yammers incessantly over the top of his voice, “I’m single. I’m single guys. I’m single”.

She had to remind the pool of alpha males in the studio audience THREE TIMES that she’s single. This wrecked herbling went SIX MONTHS thinking he and her were an item. You see, it’s all fun and games for the beta orbiter-exploiting cutie until the day comes her obedient pet gets uppity and publicly airs his romantic assumptions. Whoa, big fella! she thinks, curb your enthusiasm! And that’s her cue to publicly shear the last wispy locks of his manhood.

Those eggs won’t tolerate the slightest incursions by beta orbiter seed. Impudence like that must be snuffed in the crib, before a REALLY awkward scene erupts and he cockblocks a jerkboy she wants to meet.

At 0:19, our defenestrated beta can’t sustain the grinning rictus concealing his shredded dignity any longer and the already transparent mask slips completely off. “What?!”, he yelps, anguished.

Maybe she finally notices the hurt on his face, because she jumps in to console him…by reminding everyone again “oh no no, we’re really good friends”, as if saying it the tenth time will somehow make the castrati oil go down easier. After all, what man wouldn’t love her for a friend? She’s teh awesome (vagina not included)! And then to punctuate her compassion, please note at 0:22 the little shove she gives to his shoulders, pushing his incompetent seed away from her golden eggs.

He looks back at her forlornly, and all she can do is break into tension-relieving laughter. What’s so funny? Well, his humiliation for one. The audience’s groan, for another. But mostly a girl will laugh like this, after neutering a man with a chainsaw, to sonically disrupt the rapidly emerging narrative of her cruelty in the hopes that observers will agree to her new implied narrative that the ordeal is all a light-hearted joke between friends. Girls have to walk a tightrope when disabling insolent beta orbiters in public; they have to simultaneously disabuse the orbiter of his presumption AND prevent her social ostracism by onlookers who will naturally feel sympathetic toward the orbiter.

I can’t blame the girl. This beta set the bitch up. She was cornered. She had to move against him. It’s so typical of mincing passive betaboys to wait for claustrophobic moments to make their move, like when the girl is trapped in an elevator or on a TV game show. If I were this cute girl, on reflection I’d be pissed.

But it takes two to tango. One exploitative minx, and one willing-to-be-exploited beta. He pounces when (he thinks) she’s most defenseless; she leads him on for months when he’s most defenseless. Nobody comes out a winner here. The sadist requires the masochist. The dom the sub.

Returning to the title of this post, the best way to recover from a brutally public friendzoning is a cheeky interpretation of the Game tactics ASSUME THE SALE and AGREE & AMPLIFY.

HER: shiv shiv shiv shiv shiva destroyer of socially retarded blue balled beta orbiters *tee hee*

YOU: I love a girl who plays hard to get.

To pull this off our insipid beta would need Supreme Gentleman levels of state control, and a practiced shit-eating grin. But let’s face it, there aren’t many ways to salvage an LJBF blowout this catastrophic. To get the right Inner Game for such a salvage operation, our beta male would have had to have multiple HB6s-and-above plates in rotation to prevent the ramifications we see here from his having oneitis for this Cruella de Filly.


A reader mentioned that Flip the Script Game would work here, too.

HER: We’re friends!

HIM: YESSSSSS! I’m single again! FREEDOM BABY!”

That would be pretty funny, and it would totally restore his dignity imo, and put a little egg on her face as a bonus.


Another good response, offered by multiple commenters,

“Yeah, we’re just friends…with benefits lzzlolzlol!”


Commenter Lash notices a dead giveaway about the girl’s motivations:

How has no one mentioned this? Emphasis mine.

About 0:07: [HER:] “We’re friends. Haha. We’re friends, but he wants to . . . . . “.

I can’t believe I missed that part. So she knows he wants to fuck her, but she’s so cruel and selfish she doesn’t give a shit about his unrequited lust and will continue using him for the asexual orbiter gibs.

Remember, folks, women can only use men who allow themselves to be used.


The Friendzone Text (h/t da GBFM):

It’s funny cuz it’s cold.

These are the biocultural revolutions the long-term impacts of which most Westerners have severely underestimated:

– the Pill

– cheap and safe abortion

– mass nonwhite immigration

– the total abandonment of organized patriarchal religion

– female economic empowerment

– sugar dousing

– market saturation of hardcore porn

– (((the diaspora)))

– runaway credentialism


Regarding that last item, credentialism is inherently feminine. Hierarchy is inherently masculine. All pre-collapse late stage empires are marked by a retreat from the masculine virtues and an embrace of the feminine vices. I plan to do a post on this subject because understanding its importance is crucial to correctly diagnosing the system-wide social failures now percolating through the West.


A reader adds penicillin to the list. I figure that’s a gray area, because the benefits of penicillin (at least over the evolutionary short term) would appear to far outweigh negatives (decoupling sexual behavior from fear of disease and helping to unleash an r-selected sexual market). In the long term, though, penicillin may come to be viewed as one of CH’s six sirens of the sexual apocalypse.

A jealous girlfriend isn’t necessarily an obstacle to an award-winning relationship. In fact I’d argue that a woman’s jealousy is the solar energy of sustainable romance. When she’s jealous, you’re desired. And when you’re desired, she’s not MIA for twisted bedsheet time.

Ideally, you want to stoke a little jealousy in your woman, sporadically and with varying intensity and duration, so that it’s never predictable and she can dismiss it as another one of your effortgoads to secure her love. Too little jealousy is a recipe for cuntplacency. Too much jealousy risks a relationship blowout. Be baby bear’s porridge.

Inciting bouts of manageable jealousy is the heart of Dread Game. However, there will be times you overstep and drive your girl insane in the femmebrain with self-doubt and fear of loss. When this happens, I have a mitigation plan that won’t let you down. When she melts down accusing you of cheating or some other affront to her faithful womanhood, put on your best amused mastery face and, smiling broadly like a cat who just caught a mouse, reply,

“Wow you are REALLY jealous right now. This is so awesome!”

She’ll check herself before wrecking herself. Expect her to be confused or charmed (in women, these two states are often the same), and watch as the ire and anxiety drain right out of her. She might murmur something like “how is this awesome?” or “oooookaaaay…” which is her way of processing an unexpected information flow. (She was expecting your defensive denials.) You will continue in the same vein,

“You love me so much. It’s sweet.”

Her: blah blah don’t think so blah blah you’re so arrogant blah

“I better watch myself around other women! If I check out a cute girl you might buy me a Corvette.”

At this point, she’s either laughing or fuming, or both. Either reaction is good news. The fear has dissipated; thanks to your ASSUME THE SALE and AGREE & NOTIFY ministrations she’s realized how silly she sounded and is mad at you for making her feel that way. The madness will in short order give way to gladness and then to missionary tradness.

The above can be used by stone bold jerkboys who got caught cheating for real but don’t yet want to give up the dream of building a de facto harem of slightly obsessed loverladies.

%d bloggers like this: