Here’s part two of Bodi’s guest post. Part One is here……

I know a girl called Maritsa. She comes from a small, traditional Slovenian countryside town. All of her family are parochial: she’s the only one to have left and gone to University. Her sister and brother married young and have families. Her twenties were spent pursuing a nebulous “management” career as a means of fulfillment. The bullshit ERASMUS scheme found her travelling abroad and “working” in a manner of speaking in various roles, none of which anybody could quite understand doing what.

Around age 27 she moved to Bratislava and started dating a guy five years older than herself, actually from her hometown, who was a successful investment banker. Three years later they split up. He was a hometown boy and wanted a submissive, domestic wife. She put herself first and considered the maintenance of her emotional state, rather than his, to be the purpose of the relationship.

Now how did Maritsa respond? Let’s say we were Martisa’s wise, elder, red-pill brother and we didn’t care about her wounded pride. What might we counsel?

I would tell her that she has right royally fucked up. I’d tell her that from now on every second counts and she has precious few remaining years of any worthwhile SMV left (and that’s being kind). I’d impose a systematic campaign to find her a husband, doing two dates a week from online dating and MTLRing higher-beta guys who don’t quite realise their potential.

But what did Maritsa do? First off she decided that her job was her problem and did not quite give her “the satisfaction she deserved”. She quit and threw herself into starting up her own business. Almost immediately she was working eighty hour weeks. And her business? An online community based around encouraging women to start up their own businesses! All of her colleagues were post-middle aged hardened career women and all of her customers were lonely single women.

Given nobody can ever go bust pandering to women’s solipsism the business started to do well and soon Maritsa was constantly travelling round Europe. She’d often drop in on friends, usually couples, but be off out at the crack of dawn for a day of “Feminine Yoga”, or she’d spend all evening in Starbucks online, writing training courses telling women how to harness their Special Inbuilt Female Magic Powers to be successful in business. Speaking from her own huge personal experience of generating value that is…

Maritsa has no time in her life for anything but her work.

Maritsa is now thirty two.

Half as a favour to friends, half to try and bag an easy notch, I had a drinks date with Maritsa six months ago. She alienated me within half an hour by spouting world-destroying communist illogical poison then proceeded to patronize me as if I was the one with an IQ thirty points beneath my date, not the other way round. I was goulishly fascinated by her life choices and, slightly cruelly, asked her where she saw herself age 35. Her face took a disturbing, waxy hue and her eyes glazed over as if she was in a religious fervour and she told me she will be happily married, have three children and a husband.

I think Maritsa should learn to count backwards.

Maritsa and I have a set of friends in common: a now married couple. The wife in this couple, now that she has won and has a ring on her finger, has dropped her career like a hot potato, retrained as a Pilates teacher and become brutally Red Pill regarding women, careers and spinsterhood. I tactfully broached the subject of Maritsa and she immediately said:

“Her work is a substitute for something else. Her life is empty. She is scared”.

Impressive insight and honesty. However we all know Maritsa’s dreams are over. She just doesn’t know it yet. She is the victim of her own avoidance and denial. She is the victim of her own little Celibacy Club of one, her ‘Solo Celibacy Club’ and the man she cheated out of a loving wife and the spectres of her children that will never be hate her; hate every, egotistical and moronic pore of her body.

Yes, believe it or not there is a form of Solo Celibacy Club and this is in fact extremely common. Whereas a classic Celibacy Club is where a group of women paying the admission price of their own celibacy in exchange for the celibacy of the other members, the Solo Celibacy Club is where a woman creates a scaffold of denial and avoidance around herself to prevent her having to face up to her main problem, her singleness, and to distract her from her main mission: to get fucked by a high value man (and hopefully retain him).

She isn’t alone: this phenomena is very common when you know how to spot it. Only yesterday I was talking to Tom Torero and he was puzzled that a lot of the girls he almost but never ends up fucking share similar characteristics: they have something kooky about them, they seem distracted and have weird, unusual hobbies. These are celibacy clubs!

“Help me Bodi! I’m a woman who is single and it makes me feel scared and bad. How can I live in avoidance and sabotage my own happiness? How can I form my own ‘Solo Celibacy Club’?

Well my dear you have come to the right person. I would be delighted to help. I will now take you through a quick course and we will have your temple of avoidance built in not time at all. Now my girl, have you ever seen a movie called The Prestige? The central theme of the movie will be used as a metaphor and structure for my patented Celibacy Clubs Training Course ©. I quote:

“Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called “The Pledge”. The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course… it probably isn’t. The second act is called “The Turn”. The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you’re looking for the secret… but you won’t find it, because of course you’re not really looking. You don’t really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet. Because making something disappear isn’t enough; you have to bring it back. That’s why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call “The Prestige”.”

 The Pledge: The Foundations

Let me take a girl, an ordinary girl. Now let us examine this girl and be sure we have the correct foundations:

1) Upbringing – You were indulged a little and made to feel special. Any remote artistic output was pounced upon and your parents announced you were ‘different’. Strong male influence was very much lacking, and if it was there it was from your hopelessly fem-pedestalizing blue-pill dad, a perfectly nice guy from the pre-feminist era. You were never, EVER told that you had to get married and breed. Your parents raised you without any of the social conditioning they themselves were raised with.

2) Femininity – You were never trained to be feminine. You never learned how to appreciate masculinity. Because you can’t understand maleness you do not yearn for it.

3) Culture – You don’t get many Russian girls in celibacy clubs. Membership is primarily open to girls from the feminist Anglosphere, although we reserve special places for insane Japanese girls.

4) Stupidity – You’re an idiot with piss poor future projection.

5) Egotism – Just like our friends the Gammas, underneath it all you will be dripping with ego.

The Turn: The Mindset

You have seen the girl, ladies and gentlemen…. let me now make her disappear!

Poof! A simple mental reframe and she is gone. Let me teach you how. Let’s begin. Just tap into that inner egotism… good… now start to regard yourself as special. Simply side step the evidence of the world and from now on you will believe that you are:

• Special
• Unique
• Very feminine
• Very sensitive
• A free spirit
• Romantic

 None of this requires any work or evidence; you’re a woman: just believe it!

Now we have your mindsets in place you will now mythologise yourself. You will believe that you are not just single as a circumstance, oh no! you are single as an identity. Your identity is now built around your circumstance. Excellent.

You have your mindsets, so let’s define your behaviour. Most importantly you will make zero effort to put yourself in any situation to meet men. Your entire life will be a dark reality weave to deny there is an ‘issue’ and any situation which could challenge this causes a dangerous ego threat and is therefore avoided. If you do end up in a situation involving potential dick, you must deliberately take actions to scupper your chances of meeting men, as a way to prove to the universe that she you do not need to work for it. Remember: admitting there is a problem will cause ego death.

And what does proving that you don’t need to work for it show? It shows that you have unlimited time and unlimited option: the sweet dream of female avoidance!

The Prestige: the window-dressing

Now you are almost ready my precious. But being just a plain, ordinary, avoidant girl is not enough for our audience. We need to dress things up a little! Let’s disguise the situation with some frills and fluff.

For a start change your fashion. Pick something you think is individualistic or anachronistic and make this your thing. Perhaps pick something a little bit girly or out of place, for example you could have a small teddy on your key ring, or have a slightly cutesy rucksack. Perhaps you’ll start wearing crocheted cardigans, or dress in a fashionable French avant-garde style but always wear purple doctor martens. Or perhaps you’ll wear deliberately childish hats or mittens.

Next we need some unusual hobbies or interests. Don’t make the mistake of adopting ones that can bring you into contact with other people: girls may poke and prod your avoidance bubble and men, well of course men are to be avoided. So we need a solo hobby, and let’s pick one that lets you, despite your pedestrian IQ and total lack of creativity, feed The Prestige and allows you to feel special and unique. Here are some suggestions:

• Photography
• Reading classic literature
• Going to exhibitions and museums
• Relentless solo travel
• Unusual tastes in music
• Charity work
• “Music”

And we’re done! I hope you enjoyed the trick. See you when you’re 35 and on Guardian Soulmates.

 Testing for membership

There’s a simple test to see if a girl is in a Solo Celibacy Club: how many of her activities put her in contact with potential males? Usually the answer is zero. Solo Celibacy Clubs are on the rise and personally I keep encountering them everywhere. I know of at least four examples from as many years just amongst my own social circle.

Here’s one of the more interesting ones: my friend Hu. Now a 31 year old Chinese girl she was born gorgeous with full lips, lustrous hair, shapely body and massive, round tits.

 Like a lot of modern Chinese girls she was raised as a faux-man: pushed academically and expected to achieve and oh yes all that other woman stuff will somehow fall into place. Her mother and grandmother had been raised by the guiding hand of heavy social pressure and male influence yet they raised her without any of this, expecting her to turn out a well balanced, smart young girl. They never really thought about the issue to be honest. The end result was she turned out a confused girl. By and large sweet and pleasant but desperately confused and dysfunctional about men. She has no value system by which to judge them so flails around and uses the only one she sees around her: who is hot and who is cool. Her twenties were spent with one serious relationship with a Western gamma that caught her using his intricate gamma asian ecosystem plan and then long periods of celibacy where she occasionally “dated” a “cool guy”, such as a French jazz musician or an American bmx rider. It takes little imagination to see that on her side it was dating, on his side she was part of his pump n’dump harem.

I visited China for a friends wedding and ran into her. By this point she’d quit her job and taken a consultancy position where she could work from home. Ontop of this she’d decided she wanted to opt for the quiet life and had moved out of the city into a small, picturesque town nearby. She moved in a gay flatmate and together they fill their week with manicures, mountain biking, scenic walks and watching voluminous soap opera box sets.

At my friends wedding she talked with no sense of cause and effect (nor the ability to count backwards) about how she envisaged her own wedding day. This from a girl who’d been single for over three years and hadn’t had sex in over two years. Hu…. dear Hu…. there isn’t going to be a wedding. It’s game over. You’re in a carefully constructed avoidance reality and that’s where you will stay.

“Bodi! But how do I know if I’m in a celibacy club?” (asks a female reader)

There’s a simple set of questions you can answer. Let me fill them in for my friend Hu to show you:

1. How long was it since your last serious boyfriend? (saw him more than once a week for over three months)
2. How long has it been since you last had a penis in your vagina?
3. How many dates have you been on in the last year?
4. On an average week how many hours do you spend in the company of eligible men (doing group activities/hobbies in which the group contains eligible men)?
5. How many hours per week do you spend doing activities not in the company of eligible men (e.g. work or men-free hobbies. added together)

 Here are Hu’s statistics:

1. 3 years
2. 3 years
3. Zero
4. Zero
5. 60

And her are Maritsa’s (the girl I discussed earlier):

1. 4 years
2. 3 years
3. Zero
4. Zero
5. 90

Let me make this very clear for you ladies. If the following are true then you ARE in a solo celibacy club:

• You have not been on a date in the last year.
• You have not had sex in over a year.
• You spend zero hours per week in the company of eligible men.

Daygamers beware

I used to run across Solo Celibacy Club girls all the time. For those of you who daygame you’ll know that a dream daygame set often involves a young, introverted girl aimlessly wandering about the city with time to kill and a dreamy look on her face. This is the bread and butter of street seduction. After you pass the beginner stage you start to try and keep an eye out for these girls but here you run into the intermediate trap: falsely identifying a SCC girl as a Dream Set.

You’ll spot a girl on her own with a funny hat and a big SLR camera walking through Trafalgar Square taking pictures. You’ll jog over and say hi, making an interesting and amusing observation…but it’ll just fall flat. All the energy will just drain out of the interaction and she’ll look at you with dead fish eyes, be immediately disinterested, have no idea how to interact with a male and then walk off. I have been there and suffered this many a time and can now spot these fake sets a mile off.

The girl in Trafalgar Square? That really happened. And what was ‘the tell’ (think poker)? She was moving quickly. She wasn’t smiling yet she was dressed in a kooky way. She had palid, drawn features despite being potentially pretty. She’d snap a few pictures off with no thought or emotional connection then shuttle on a minute and repeat, over and over. She wasn’t ambling along. She wasn’t smiling. It was banal and soul-less. Oh… and she was wearing Doctor Martens.

I’ve seen girls sitting in Green Park, reading a book on the bench. At first I thought they were a good potential set but on drifting closer I saw the deliberately over-kooky fashion, the weird shoes, the granny-knitted cardigan, the avant-garde book she was reading… all very feminine and unique but with a drawn and energy-less face. Avoid.

High quality daygame sets bear a strong superficial resemblance but their vibe is a world different. Truly introverted, unique girls are usually extremely feminine and have a good vibe about them. If you’re lucky enough to open one the interaction will probably sparkle from the get-go and she’ll be warm and receptive and very keen to meet worthwhile men.

False positives

Which leads us to discussing the last important category: that of the False Positive. This is a girl who may meet some of the criteria I listed earlier, who perhaps has been without sex or a boyfriend for an inordinately long time, a few years probably. She’ll be introverted and quiet but very feminine. She’ll not like going to bars and clubs and will probably have little hobbies and interests but this is not to weave a mythology of uniqueness around herself but is because, well, she finds those hobbies interesting. This is not a Solo Celibacy Club. This is a girl with a supply problem! There is a difference. Solo Celibacy Club girls are deep in avoidance and build their life and ego around it and they end up drained and unpleasant. Feminine girls with a supply problem want desperately to meet a high value guy and when they do they do not hesitate: they usually fuck him immediately. Their issue is that because they are very feminine they have very high standards of masculinity required in a guy and they meet very few guys who can match them.

My current girl is an English rose and hadn’t had a boyfriend in three years before meeting me and had had sex once during that period. An hour into our first date and I could see in her eyes the decision had been made. A few hours later we were screwing. She later told me that her main thought was “Finally!!! …. A guy I can fuck!”.

Shattering a Celibacy Club

Most girls in SCCs are lost causes but some, a few, the very, very lucky ones get stopped on the street by a confident, smooth operator and he guides their frustrated little hamster along a well worn path right off the edge of a cliff. Without any effort, and with all of their ego-scaffolding working against it, they have somehow managed to get fucked. Yes, they met a Player. Pickup Artists are some of the only guys in the world who are willing to take 100% agency in fucking a girl and to persistently drive it forward through a systematic interaction structure, obliterating all the obstacles she might throw in the way to get her onto the end of their dicks. If you’re a PUA and you meet one of these girls then do everything you possibly can to fuck her. Really, honestly, you are absolutely doing her a favour by pumping her, jolting her off her road to nowhere and reminding her how good it feels to have a dick inside her.