A few weeks ago Roosh was in town so me and my buddy Steve had a few beers with him. It turned into quite a spirited chat on travel, girls and game. One topic was on what I label “value-based game“. Much of pick up teaching is focused on the in-set technical behaviours that are meant to shuttle you through the stages of your model. Taken to extremes this can lead you to becoming an approach machine, obsessing over micro-managing your technique and over-thinking it all. I’m all in favour of getting the technique right but lets not kid ourselves over it’s importance.

Men can mentally undress women in seconds. No amount of makeup and careful fashion styling can fool a sober man in the cold light of day. We are hard-wired to deconstruct a woman’s facial symmetry, proportions, posture, body fat, skin elasticity and so on. Where her grooming hides something we are instinctively attuned to watch for any movement, gesture or ray of light that fills in that blank. Put simply, men know how to assess the physical value of a women very very quickly. And once sussed out, 90% of women have already been screened in or out. It’s only in the grey areas, at the fringes of indecision, where grooming is make or break (extreme faux pas aside).

A low-value PUA method

Women are the same. They are hardwired to sniff out your value. If you don’t have it, all the technique in the world won’t save you. Being overly reliant on technique makes you one of those clowns running up and down Oxford Street opening 100 women in order to get one lay with the 95th-ugliest of them. As I’ve said before, you do have to put the time in. Just keep it in proportion while you also work on your value.

Unfortunately, marketing a PUA method towards the Technique Junkies is an easy sell. It requires the student ask few hard questions of himself and make few changes to his life. You may think you are giving it 100% by going out several times a week but unless you are assessing your whole life pattern, chances are you’re setting yourself an Ego Trap to avoid dealing with the main issues, issues that are still to painful to address.

The PUA industry has created its own little sub-ecosystem of junkies and enablers. Small companies of pretenders use smoke ‘n’ mirrors marketing guff to get technique junkies to pay to feel like they are really making changes. Think of it as the PUA version of a strip mall ninjitsu / tae kwon do club – the teachers pretend to teach and the students pretend to learn. If enough cheques clear, the student advances up the belt structure until he’s a fully-fledged blackbelt…. who can’t fight. This business model works because it requires little skill from the instructors and neatly sidesteps all the tough grind for the students. In sharp contrast, the attrition rate in a BJJ or boxing gym is horrendous. The brutal ego destruction students receive first time they step on a BJJ mat is enough to send most of them back into the fantasy world of the Karate Kid.

Youtube is full of promo come-ons for rubbishy instructors. My dear readers should be sufficiently savvy to recognise a two-bit operation when they see one so I’ll resist the urge to point and laugh. Women can sniff out the men who aren’t getting laid. Before you hand over money to a coach just size him up and ask yourself “does he look like the kind of guy a hot woman would fuck”?

* EDIT – I removed direct references to one particular company and instructor.

On my way to work I like to take a leisurely stroll to the Underground station so I can get a little sun and fresh air, stretch my legs a little. I find it helps orient me to the day and negate the stress of the London rush hour. You get to see people at their most dispirited and iritable early on a Monday morning. Once such recent encounter gave me pause for thought in how certain behaviours give you a window into a person’s world.

So I approach the station around 8am and my Oyster card has expired so I proceed to the ticket machines, two of them side-by-side near the station entrance. Both are busy and a thirty-ish chubby Asian man is trying to straddle both queues (he is the only person waiting) by standing between the machines. Immediately I peg him as unsatisfied with his life as he is shuffling hurriedly and craning his neck over the other passenger’s shoulders willing them to complete their ticket purchases faster. So I know this man is passive-aggressive and unhappy with his lot in life. I have no time for people who breach the standard codes of daily life, whether they jabber on their mobile phones while at a cash register (and thus disrespect the staff) or in this case trying to hold two queues up to save time by externalising his impatience onto other passengers. I walk directly to the right-hand machine to wait. He turns to face me and says “I’m waiting for that one”.

A non-managed ticket queue, yesterday

This surprises me a little. London commuters are a timid bunch and even the passive-aggressive ones are usually so passive they won’t say anything or hold eye contact.

“OK” I reply, and move towards the left-hand machine.

“I’m queueing for both of them” he says and physically moves to block me.

“No you’re not. Choose a queue” I reply.

He whines about something but halfway through one of the women in front finishes her purchase so I move to that machine. The guy dodges in front and rushes to the machine. What a dickhead, I think, and give him a light shove as he brushes past me and then I wait for the girl infront of my machine to finish. He pipes up, something along the lines of:

Him: You just hit me

Me: No I didn’t it was a light shove as you pushed past me

Him: That’s assault. I’ll make a citizen’s arrest if you hit me again

Me: (now making my ticket purchase) I didn’t hit you and I’m not going to touch you

Him: You hit me. I’ll have you arrested. I’ll take you into custody until the police come

Me: If you touch me I’ll knock you out

Him: I am going to take your photo (starts fumbling with phone camera)

Me: No you’re not. I don’t give you permission (lightly swat his phone down, but not so hard that he drops it)

I forget the exact words but he was bleating and prattling, much longer sentences than I’ve written here. He walks off and then turns to take a photo from a distance then waits for me at the top of the platform steps so he can then prattle on next to me about how he’s going to have me arrested. Next he pretends to call the Transport Police giving them my description and agreeing a rendezvous at the next station. I’ve already back-turned him. Nothing more comes of it.

but wearing a tailored Italian suit

My reason for relaying this story isn’t to position myself as some kind of champion of social justice. He was a pushover gamma male showing a rare appetite for confrontation, hardly a threat even in this country of officious law enforcement that seek to harass law-abiding tax-payers rather than stop real crime. Rather, what did this incident show me about this man’s reality? My thoughts:

• He has a generally bitter view of the world where other people, and probably fate generally, are assumed to be against him. He is under attack and every now and then needs to fight back
• He will breach social convention in the grey areas (i.e. straddling two queues) in order to gain a marginal advantage. This is value-taking. I suspect he’d also not tell checkout staff if he received too much change on his groceries and likely is an inconsiderate driver
• When in a confrontation his instinct is passive-aggressive and to tell teacher. His attempt to reframe himself as the victim of a physical attack was laughable, even Premiership footballers don’t play act that obviously. Despite initiating both the circumstances of the confrontation (through his value-taking) and the explicit confrontation itself (telling me to play by his rules then jumping in front of me) and the first physical nudge and the prolonging of it (the photo and threats) he was determined to frame himself as the victim.
• His shrill references to having me arrested were just telling teacher. He is not a man who handles his own confrontations. It’s easy to play brave when you have an army behind you. There’s nothing badass about strutting infront of a (perceived) helpless victim like you’re a warrior
• The attempts to photograph me show his classic gamma traits. When people self-define as a victim they often award themselves a moral carte-blanche to ruthlessly attack their supposed-oppressors without honour or proportionality. Just look at “anti-fascist” or “anti-homophobia” demonstrators and how they try to hound normal men out of their livelihoods. This betrays the deep-seated misanthropy behind the victim identity.
• He told a blatant lie in carrying on his sham phone call. So not only does he play fast and loose with the truth but the whole charade was designed to try to worry me and ruin my day. So he was not motivated by defending himself or seeing an aggressor brought to justice. No, he was motivated by the ego payoff of trying to be a winner in a confrontation and to make me feel bad.

These are the same character traits which guarantee failure with women. It was pretty obvious looking at him that he doesn’t fuck hot girls. Much of the rage and feminised desire for indignation that led him to act out will have been driven by his sexual poverty. The lesson for my dear readers is this: Who you are, how you orient to the world, is a direct determinant of your success with women. Everything about this man and his behaviour was woman-repellant.

Guys who are knocking over hot women on the regular are chill, relaxed, pleasant men. It’s both cause and effect. They don’t seek unnecessary confrontations but when they do they handle it themselves, out in the open.

[Edit – Due to my gamma contingent not understanding the physical layout of a train station and the queueing system in place, I’ve added a photo of a similar such layout.  K.]

My site analytics showed me I’d gotten a bunch of hits from this guy linking me:

• SadVirgin whines: Why oh why do us sad lonely male nerds struggle while jerks like this get all the hot beautiful women? (link to my last lay report)
• I reply: Because jerks like me put in the hard work to become a sexworthy man. If you shifted your ass and did what I did, you’d get what I get.

Exhibit A

This quite understandably triggers a few responses. Now seeing as a couple of them are reasonably thought out, I think perhaps there’s decent people involved in this website so I invest a little time explaining myself. Here’s some of the early comments. First a reasonable but slightly blue-pill guy:

Anthony: It is absolutely true that you put the work and effort in to becoming ‘sexworthy.’ But your attitude isn’t helpful. Under one caption on your site, it read “I’m entitled to this” or something along those lines. Which is complete bullshit. You’re entitled to your opinion, that’s about it. If you want to break away from the norm and date lots of women and have casual sex, there is nothing wrong with that. More power to you if you can achieve it. But when you have the attitude that you’re entitled or owed sex? Then you’re treading into asshole territory.

There isn’t anything inherently wrong with what you do (the sleeping with women part – the general disregard for their feelings [and I realize it isn’t quite that simple], that’s a different story), but your attitude makes you a jerk. So, I understand why unsuccessful men would take their anger out on you. It’s ill-placed, because being angry at you won’t help them get girls. But, some (if not most) of the hate you receive is well-earned.

Then a hater:

Commonly Known As X: I’m sure you can be the sad old git picking up insecure young women without two much trouble, especially if you travel to places where poverty or recent civil wars mean there is a lot more vulnerable youn women. The women will probably learn a sad lesson in what to avoid as they grow up.

IF of course this whole scenario is real. PUAs almost always remind me of really dorky teenagers bragging about their imaginary conquests. I mean, did he really dump this young hottie or did she suddenly realise that not only was this guy twice her age and half her maturity level, but he was completely selfish in bed. An interest in “sexually inexperienced” women seems like a red-flag for not very good at giving pleasure.

And then a fairly red-pill woman:

Eselle28: Hot beautiful women aren’t rationed out based on the recipient’s moral worth. The jerk in question approaches lots of women, has either developed or learned to fake appealing qualities, and is fishing in waters where he may have a certain extra appeal as an exotic foreigner. I’d say the first step for sad lonely male nerds is to develop a persona beyond “sad lonely” – that’s not a combination anyone finds very attractive.

I think I’d also suggest taking some of these stories with a grain of salt. I suspect that the writer experienced some harsh rejections he’s leaving out, and that at least some of the women he mentions may be more interested in having an exciting fling than suffering from hopeless, virginal love.

So I dispense my opinions in a long reply. I incorrectly assume the above hater is a man(gina), btw, so it’s best to treat my response as a generic rant cos it was off target this time. Oops.

Krauserpua writes:

Anthony – I mostly agree, but I think you also missed most of my humour regarding things like the “entitled” caption. Understandable if you’ve dropped into my blog and haven’t read it long enough to get my writing style. A strong sense of entitlement is actually very important to develop if you want to date hot women – if you don’t believe you deserve them, you won’t push past their screening tests and they’ll agree you don’t deserve them. The hate I receive is mostly from manginas like Commonly Known As X – these are perenial losers who project their own self-loathing onto me and are utterly callous about it. Their total disrespect for anyone they see as non-humans (namely, anyone who enjoys their life) is part of the hateful victim vibe that repels women.

CMaX – You’d kill to experience the sexual abundance I do, as everybody who reads your comment knows full well. The fact I bang hot girls and you don’t burns you up inside because it shakes your whole reality. Let me tell you why. You think you’re special and nicer than every other guy and you double-down on identifying with the feminine to try to get laid. Yet it doesn’t work. So you fall back onto the pretty lie that success in dating is just luck, outside your control. That allows you to avoid taking responsibility for your failures, and you are a failure. Then people like me come along who not only bang girls that you think I shouldn’t be able to, but I even lay out a clear path for how you too can achieve the same success….. if only you put in the same hard work I did. But you’re not willing to do that because you’d prefer to be a loser with pretty lies than go through this tough transition period. Hence you have cognitive dissonance. Rather than resolve it with a winner’s attitude of “lets learn from this” you resolve it with a losers attitude of “lets try to deny and belittle the achievement”. Pure sour grapes. I have no respect for losers like you at all.

Eselle28 – Totally agreed with paragraph one. Paragraph two is usually true but I’m the wrong example. I’ve hyper-documented my blog over 480 posts with infield videos, text message exchanges, facebook chat screenshots, post-lay interviews. I’ve also talked plenty about the harsh rejections. No probs if you didn’t know this, can’t expect everyone to be interested enough in my blog to read every post!

I’ve written 480 posts on how to get good with women and my own personal journey from when I initially couldn’t get laid. My technical mindset ought to appeal to nerds. My journey ought to inspire readers here that they too can succeed. Anthony is quite ironically wrong in saying my attitude is unhelpful – I’ve donated hundred of hours of my time to providing a free online resource that any guy can use to improve his success with women. I’m really fucking helpful to those among you who are willing to put in the hard work. I’m really fucking unhelpful to the spiteful pussies among you who just wanna hate and play victim

I don’t know how long this thread will run, but here it is to follow yourselves:

And to dispense with the red flag about not being good in bed. Damn, you caught me bang to rights, as this girl proves from tonight’s Facebook chat

Girls reading this who wish to be well-serviced: email and photo to krauser[at]rocksolidgame[dot]co[dot]uk. You must be pretty, agreeable and under 27 years old.

A key element of Deep Conversion is what I call cheerful misogyny. This is essentially a paternalistic empathetic attitude towards women in which you recognise their relative strengths and weaknesses and do not pander. To achieve cheerful misogyny you must unapologetically believe men are better than women at certain things, so you can then be dismissive of those women who try their hand where they don’t belong. Mostly this involves deprogramming your forebrain. So with that in mind, here is my deprogramming suggestion on the topic of women in the workplace.

TLDR version

Feminists have made much of alleged patriarchal dominance in the workplace. Roughly summarised they claim women have been excluded from the workplace and public office so that men can keep all the benefits of money, status and power to themselves. This has been achieved by outright exclusion (working men’s clubs, Old Boy network, discriminatory hiring practices), social engineering (denying women suitable education to compete for these positions) and cultural disapproval (pushing traditional gender roles as desirable). One criticism that makes feminists feel really clever, like they are unearthing some hidden deep conspiracy, is that the workplace and public sphere have been masculinised and designed in ways that promote men’s interests at the expense of women’s.

The more crazy feminists (i.e. those tweeting from nests feathered by university money) have claimed logic and scientific knowledge are themselves sexist because they discriminated against women’s ways of knowing. Essentially that fact-based decision making is sexist because it undermines women’s intuitiveness. These crazies are at the extreme.

I’d like to submit an alternative explanation for the traditional male dominance of the public sphere. Men are better at getting things done.

Men deal with the world directly. Nature is red in tooth and claw, unforgiving and uncaring, so to scrape a living men must understand reality and the rules by which it operates. This means reading skies to forecast rains, tracking animal spoor, fashioning tools…. all the way to the ultimate abstraction of physics and back again with engineering tools and structures to claim control over the environment. Men’s deep-seated interest in how things work and their drive to master their environment leads them to social behaviours such as nerdiness and to life-choices such as studying maths, science and engineering which allow them to harness these nature-oriented drives. Men are producers.

Women deal with the world indirectly, through men. They live inside the protective bubble of men and thus gravitate towards the private sphere of the home and the knitting circle. Mostly they are recipients of men’s provisioning and thus take little interest in that part of the outside world where human meets nature – the coal face of men’s struggle against the elements. Their attention is caught only when their results of male provisioning are mismatched or inadequate to their needs, then they wish something to be done onto the world through the agency of men. “Can you put up those shelves, please?” Women’s deep-seated interest in how people work and their drive to manipulate channels of provisioning leads them to social behaviours such as solipsism and to life-choices such as studying psychology, marketing and human resources which allow them to harness these people-oriented drives. Women are consumers.

An opportunity to redress imagined slights

Thus are the natural abilties and inclinations of men and women. So let’s consider what the public sphere actually entails. The workplace is the location in which people are assembled together to complete a range of tasks. Let’s take as an AtlasShrugged-y example building a bridge across a gorge to allow a railway to connect two towns. The project requires people to design a bridge that will support the train, map out the materials needed, engage physical labour to do the building, extract the materials from the earth, forge steel, logistics to transport the men, materials and energy to the worksite, direct the work and so on. All of these activites interface with the real world with outcomes that can be measured and the ultimate proof in whether the bridge stands or falls. Construction companies are masculine because they must harness masculine skills to complete the project. Not because the men involved specifically wish to exclude women for the sake of it. Women are excluded because they are inadequate in these roles.

So the workplace takes on masculine energy as a necessary condition of getting the job done effectively. Red Pill Room calls this the Sandbox (an excellent post). The moment you force femininity into the workplace you dilute the effectiveness of a business’s ability to impose itself upon the world. So is there a place for women in the workplace? Let’s get this question framed correctly. The demands of the project are what shapes the culture of a business, rather than the habits and fancies of men. Men do not fashion business as their private fiefdom or they’ll go out of business under market competition. The men take on the shape of the environment. It’s a common feminist misconception that men love going to work and having their Old Boy’s playground, as if working down the mines or in an office cubicle are some kind of recreational activity. To disabuse yourself of this notion just ride an Underground train during rush hour and watch all the tired slouched men traipsing into the office at 9am then coming home worn-out and defeated from a hard day’s graft. Most men don’t take joy from their work, they do it because it’s their role and a means to an end. They are fitting themselves to the shape of the workplace realities.

Women are solipsistic by nature and thus operate from a “what’s in it for me?” frame. The workplace is an environment to be shaped to suit their tastes and damn the consequences to the project. Red Pill Room calls this the Swingset and it’s disruptive by nature. So let’s not ask what work can do for women but rather what women can do for work. In a free market that’s how it goes – you are hired according to your abilities as required by the firm. Assuming an honest intention by the woman to contribute, what can she actually do?….. History has already answered that for us. Considering the business as it’s own pseudo-household, women are deployed in internal-facing roles that manage the warmness of the environment ro support the external-facing men. Typing, filing, photocopying, tea-making and crucially… looking pretty around the office to make it a pleasant place to be.

Office beautification in 3.. 2.. 1…

There are some exceptions, when a business is particularly people focused such as marketing firms, PR, events management and so on. These are more like outsourced elements what are usually people-focused sides of business whose main activity is world-focused. And what a surprise that women gravitate to these roles. The public sector is another (grossly enlarged) outlier. Free men in free markets hire workers for what they can do – there is a purity of connection. The government hires workers for political purposes and then allows trades unions to inflict producer capture upon the organisation and redeploy it as a source of feathering the nests of it’s employees rather than getting the job done. And what a surprise that women gravitate to these roles.

Real work is a male endeavour. To the extent women can perform adequately they must take on male characteristics by accessing their reserve masculine core. This masculines them, kills their femininity. There are only two choices for society in allowing women to work while retaining their femininity: (i) feminise the culture of work so the women are happy but nothing gets done efficiently or (ii) limit women to particular tightly-fenced roles until they get married off and leave the workforce. The latter is the only choice acceptable to me.

I recently went back to work after over two years of leisure. I didn’t need to, I could’ve easily continued my merry wanderings for several more years, but my subconscious was giving me an ever louder signal that I need to put on a suit and submit myself to some internally-directed accomplishment and some externally-provided discipline. Your subconscious will first speak to you in fleeting murmours, then husky growls before eventually building up to a crashing cacophony of deafening proportions. It’s your masculine core and it exists to stop your logical forebrain making a mess of the navigation process delegated to it.

pre-Lehman banking

Your ego, logical forebrain and masculine core are all your friend. Yes, even your ego. It requires an occasional sedative but it’s evolved inside you for good reasons. Everything inside you has evolved for the purposes of keeping you alive and getting your seed into some nubile young maidens. It’s not the ego itself to fear, but the various twists and kinks that send it off on fools errands. Slay the demons, sedate (don’t kill) the ego.

So three years ago I’d begun to feel like my career was an unnecessary rat race and my job a chore. Growing up as a smart, well-educated middle class boy the rewards of a higher-beta lifestyle were always going to appeal to me. I expected career success, pots of cash, status increments and all the other accoutrements of mainstream success. Thus I channeled myself down the Attainment Path without ever giving thought to alternatives. For a while my deal with society seemed to work. I got cash, security, gadgets and status while society got a higher-beta workhorse to obey the laws, create wealth, and tax to penury to pay for all the freeloaders. I even got The Girl, for a while (though as I subsequently discovered the Attainment Path was coincidence not a cause of that).

Then when The Girl left I realised that 60-hour workweeks, deadline pressure, 50% taxation and the much higher “cultural enrichment” tax of paying obscene amounts in rent, travel and entertainment to stay safe inside the law-abiding white-man coccoon….. it wasn’t worth it to come back to an empty home, spend a few hours watching TV / playing PS3, then go to bed to respawn next day for another crack at pushing the boulder up the mountainside. It took my subconscious about six months to transition from quiet murmours into deafening roars, and then I quit.

My revulsion for civilisation had peaked. I looked for another way.

For a while I considered Freedom Porn. To cut a long story short it’s bullshit. There is no better or more efficient way of earning cash than learning a trade / expert system and then exchanging your skills for an hourly/daily wage. Freedom pornographers would have you believe the answer is starting an online business, affiliate marketing, coaching or whatever. It’s bullshit. Like the crack-dealer business model, there’s only a few spots at the top of any particular accumulation pyramid. There’s only one Roosh. Only one Richard La Ruina. The pickup pyramid isn’t even a lucrative one. Unless you are able to dislodge one of the top guys then the best money remains in coaching bootcamps, residentials and one-on-ones…. which is exchanging your skill in an expert system for an hourly/daily wage. But I digress.

The office cubicle is a physical and mental prison. Manosphere guys write plenty about the latter, how by suppressing your natural inclinations to fit into corporate culture you are betatising yourself and allowing yourself to be sucked into a hoop-jumping frame of work hard – take orders – get rewarded by status increment. I agree, mostly. It’s also a physical prison because you lock you body into a seated position for hours away from natural sunlight and fossilise. When I woke up that first bright morning after resigning, the office shackles casts off, I immediately set about shaking off the cobwebs and stretching my limbs.

For two years I answered to no-one. My life was an unbroken flow of doing whatever the fuck I wanted whenever the fuck I wanted. It was liberating. I shook off the beta, I shook off the worker-drone frame, and I developed that chill relaxed self-satisfied vibe that attracts women. I recommend it to anyone who has the financial means to do so. But it comes with downsides.

You’ll be wanting coffee and porridge after such a long sleep?

While my vibe and health improved, my subconscious went into a Cthulhu sleep. Enjoy it, it’s what you need, he said and began his centuries slumber. But after a while he began to stir. The problem of foregoing all external discipline is that you must generate it internally. Introverted, motivated, high-self regulators like me can do so for long periods without folding in on themselves. But there are limits. There’s always Dissipation Monkey chattering in your ear… “Ease off, you’ve earned it”… “Might as well drink the whole bottle of whiskey, it’s not like you need to get up for work tomorrow”…. “No need to shower. Skyrim doesn’t care if you smell”… left unchecked the little bastard will dissolve your work ethic and go-getting masculine energy until you become a wop.

I started to feel it. Two years living in a bubble without accountability and I could feel myself wopping out. I’d quit my job to build up the masculine pillars in my life, to gain independence and a good vibe, to get more time to live my life well, but I was neglecting the most important pillar of all – self-sufficiency. Men are the power stations of humanity, self-motivated machines of economic surplus which the herd lives off (i.e. women and children). The male drive is to produce and to stand independent. Lose that and you lose much of your masculine confidence. There’s a reason we all look down on losers.

Non-Italian woppery

As I felt my subconscious awaken I knew where it was headed. I’d need to go back to work. The question wasn’t if, it was on what terms. Fortunately together with my buddy Bhodi we’d thrashed out the concept of Expert System Energy Husky. We’d identified this male need to master a system and then produce surplus with it. We’d identified the joy that comes from grappling with an amorphous blob of uncooperative reality until our application of skill and sweat fashioned it into a useful outcome to serve our needs. Your husky needs to go for walkies. You can ask him to lie by the sofa for a while and he’ll obey, but left idle long enough he’ll get agitated. First a whimper and scratching of paws, and eventually yelping and barking at the door to go out. ESEH can be trained. As my revulsion for the corporate world wore off I started to find reasons to like going back to my career.

• It’s mentally challenging.
• I have lots of responsibility.
• I get to wear cool suits.
• I’m surrounded by high-achieving, reliable, competent men.
• I learn new things about new businesses every day.
• My brain gets a workout that will protect it’s higher order functionings as I age.
• I get to deploy technical skills I spent years acquiring.

You can NLP yourself into enjoying your job. Dale Carnegie wrote a book about it. It’s part of a wider process of Reality Weaving (post to come). I very consciously NLP’d myself based on the rewards of mastering an expert system and not on the cash. It’s so wrong to put yourself into the frame of this is an unpleasant imposition I grind though only because it pays the bills. That’s pronouncing a death sentence on your vibe.

Much of this came to me while on mushrooms.

It’s been a while since I’ve talked about femininity. One thing I’ve noticed over the past couple of years is that all of my friends / wings who initially got into Game to rack up notches and have wild adventures have now all zeroed in on the same goal – finding girls with strong positive femininity. All the other stuff like height, curves, ethnicity is just details. When we go out we are scanning and screening hard for feminine essence.

Bhodi talks about girls dripping in oestrogen (figuratively). Now that I’m attuned to it I can pick these girls out of a crowd. Long flowing soft hair, glowing skin, relaxed strut, gentle facial expressions. Just as you can sense a man with raging testosterone you can also sense a girl with an oestrogen overload.

Men are not comfortable receiving affection from sluts or aggressive masculinised women. We all really really enjoy being around feminine energy, it’s like recharging your batteries and puts a spring in your step. That’s why I say I’d rather be on a (no sex) date with a purely feminine girl than fuck a masculinised slut. Even the posterboy of the high-notch ONS lifestyle wants to keep sweet feminine girls around him.

While on mushrooms I watched alot of Millie. Compare this girl to the likes of Beyonce. Think for a moment which one you’d prefer in your bed for ten years when you finally decide to marry. Do I even need to analyse the videos step by step? It’s pretty obvious to the Red Pill crowd why the guy in the Beyonce video doesn’t love her when everything she’s doing is drenched in masculine attitude.

Girls, if you want to keep a man around you need to boost your feminine essence. To do so I recommend the following:

• Read The Rules Revisted and be prepared to learn from it rather than salve your ego by rejecting it. If you disagree with any post there it meansyou are wrong.
• Change your diet away from man foods. Get more fresh vegetables, fruit, water, white meats.
• Stop drinking alcohol. Really, try to entirely cut alcohol out of your life. If you must drink, avoid beers and lagers at all costs. More then anything else, alcohol and cigarettes ruin a girl’s hormone balance.
• Don’t lift weights, circuit train or jog. Which girls have the most sexy feminine bodies? Yes, dancers, aerobics instructors and pilates girls. Joggers always look like shit.
• Take pleasure in learning to cook and other girly hobbies. Make a real skill out of it. It’s so easy to set yourself apart from, and above, the crowd of girls with androgynous or masculine hobbies.

While in conversation with one of my buddies it occured to me that a man’s man is quite different from a woman’s man, and have different routes to getting there. Quite a few times I’ve met guys who are successful with women but who I have no respect for and look down on, while other guy’s its the reverse. Only just now have I figured out how to put words onto this feeling.

A man’s man (MM) exemplifies those qualities men respect in other men such as honour, work ethic, dependibility, state control, toughness, interesting conversation, life experience and so on. These are guys you want to hang out with, the first guy you ring up when you want a few beers and also when you are in trouble. You want a MM behind you in the foxhole or a bar scuffle.

A woman’s man (WM) exemplifies those qualities women respond to sexually such as aloofness, strong frame, emotional highs and lows, full attention, touchy, passionate, complex. Girls get roped in and try to solve his mystery in all it’s angst-ridden, creative, whimsical glory. To say I don’t trust these men is an understatement.

They love women and orient their life around them. They are the guys with extremely high (100+) lay counts. Some of them are good company but there’s always that feeling that they aren’t right. That they’ll throw you under a bus for pussy, fail to repay a loan, disappear when the shit goes down, get all temperamental and throw a hissy fit etc.

I think it’s due to an identification with the feminine which is a double-edged sword. An ability to adore and understand the feminine smoothes out all obstacles to a woman’s pussy. The over-identification that comes with natural seducers often leaves them failing to develop the normal structures of a man’s life: career, mission, friendship circle, hobbies. In contrast I know men who are great company but simply cannot translate the high esteem with which men hold them into an ability to close women. I wonder of the two archetypes of MM and WM are mutually exclusive or can be transcended to become a James Bond-esque man that “all men want to be and all women want in their bed.”

Women possess a short fragile bloom of youth. From about age fifteen their body begins to take on a woman’s shape but it takes time for her to grow into it – to lose the puppy fat, have her hips widen, and develop the poise of a real woman – so she is kinda cute but not really able to inspire lust. Depending on the girl she’ll hit her true bloom somewhere near nineteen years old and hold it for a maximum of five years. She can continue to be sexy into her late twenties but the unmistakeable radiance diminishes.

I believe how a woman conducts herself determines the length of her bloom.

Put simply, “good girls” who follow a healthy lifestyle and identify with the feminine last longer than “bad girls” who chart a path through hedonistic waters. The following bad habits ravage a girl’s radiance:

• Excessive drinking. Men are constituionally far more capable of holding their beer over time than women. It’s not merely because a man’s physique is less important in determining his overall value. Women who drink even 10 units a week are seriously messing up their hormones, their shape, and their skin.
• Excessive cock-hopping. Sex in itself adds to a woman’s glow but sex with different men detracts from it. A woman who gets herself fucked 500 times by one guy she loves will look good. If the same woman spreads those fucks across 30 guys she will look like shit.
• Excessive careerism. Women are not designed to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Look at photos of Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson. When a man carries responsibility he takes on a weathered look that adds value. A weathered woman looks horrible.

Weathered, yesteryear

The extreme case of such short-blooming women are sex industry workers. The ones who rise to prominence, whether as whores or porno actresses, usually do so because in the beginning they have beauty and radiance. They inspire lust in men who then vote with their wallets. But after a few years on the game these girls unravel. Years of new cock, sexual depravity, hustling for cash, drugs, partying…. these girls become empty shells. Consider Lenka Gabarova.

Nom nom nom

As a debutante I’d put her at a solid nine. My current girlfriend has a very similar look and I dare say that was probably in my mind when I elevated her above the others. She has a clear bloom – fresh skin, sparkling eyes, soft manner.

Now look at her several years later. At first blush she just seems to have degraded slightly through age. But look again, feel the difference. Note her hard eyes and disillusioned posture. This girl’s vibe is now just going through the motions without any joy de vivre.

Not even with a borrowed cock

Sluts have the same problem, just less marked. The typically inexperienced beta male is so overwhelmed by her basic beauty that he can’t read the subtle slut indicators. A few girls come to mind…. Last year I threesomed a Romanian girl who was loaned to me by a wing. She was 21, university educated, well-mannered and to all external appearances a “good girl”. Fully in her bloom. However she was a genuine nympho with self-esteem issues. Although she was an incredible fuck and great company, within months she unravelled. My wing told me she was now getting herself beaten up by violent boyfriends and turning up at his door at 3am high on cocaine, ranting and raving, then disappearing for weeks on end. Needless to say her bloom withered. Another girl (also Romanian, as it happens) was almost threesomed by a buddy of mine two months ago but was on the rag and just settled for giving blowjobs. She’s another hot 21 year-old girl in bloom. She’s also a raving nympho. Last three stories I heard about her were….. caught giving blowjobs to a roomfull of guys in a house party…. SNL’d from a goth club by a tattooed/pierced freak who fucked her so hard she couldn’t walk the next day and she immediately fell in love with him…. rescued from a crack house where she was wandering around naked, fucked on drugs. This girl is already coming apart physically.

I’ve picked extreme examples but just watch for it. Notice the difference between girls in bloom and girls who squandered it. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.

I’ve been reading up on pimping again. Many of my readers will be aware of Iceberg Slim’s classic autobiography Pimp, a book I heartily recommend for it’s portrayal of the dark side of male-female attraction. Mr Slim had certainly mastered the dance of the wounded souls and although it ultimately ruined his life and made him a deeply regretful man, at least he had plenty of lulz.

Intrigued by the skills and attitudes of these men I bought a few more related books. Right now I’m reading The Pimp’s Bible by Alfred “Bilbo” Gholson. Although he looks like a black hobbit his woman-skills are rather better than those of the Shire, who ought to stick to protecting the One Ring rather than running a stable of bitches. I haven’t finished the book yet but it’s a strikingly interestingly read.

Unsurprisingly it’s a mea culpa of Gholson’s life. Most first-person crime books are, because the worthless scoundrels who write them wish to preserve their self-opinion as worthwhile humans. I’m sure even Heinrich Himmler considered himself doing good and unjustly put-upon from the world at large. When you have your boot on someone’s neck, you find a way to blame it on them. Eddie Bunker novels are a great example of petty trash blaming unfortunate circumstances for all their violent avarice.

Gholson has a strong frame and a silver tongue, he’s a successful pimp remember. So his big reframe isn’t bad luck, it’s providence. God wanted him to be a pimp and God wants him to now set the world’s misapprehensions about pimpin’ to rights. Oh, how selfless of him. It makes for a fun read though. The whole book is a No True Scotsman move in which all the bad aspects of pimping (violence, drug-dealing, larcenry etc) are ringfenced as the work of dirty low-down wannabe pimps while “high class pimps” are providing a public service with the blessing of everyone involved. Rather than bang on about him analytically, I’ll revert to his words. Some choice quotes:

On going down on a woman: “Higher class pimps wouldn’t dare let his women become equal with him. He believes that any man that has oral love with his woman is her human douchebag. High class pimps are under the impression that a woman’s body accepts so much filth during a month’s time, that nature forces a cleaning out period once a month. Doctors say it’s acceptable but that doctors aren’t God and most high class pimps have their own opinion about it.”

On laziness: “Pimping is his job and a pimp works. He constantly deals with seven or more female minds, when the average layman cannot deal with one. If anyone thinks it’s not work, let them try it.”

On public opinion: “The pimp has always been the tenth wonder of the world. Only three people understand a pimp – God, his women, and another pimp.”

On the decline of morals in pimping: “But if I was pimping today, dead whores would turn over in their graves if they thought I was being treated like the modern day pimp, and the old ones who are still out there would come out of the woodwork to protest.”

On homely women: “You may not have a pretty face or a lovely body but don’t forget everyone has a brain. Some women resort to their brain department.”

From the 12 commandments: “He strikes his females only to shock them back to reality. Toss a bottle at her; hit at her head with a golf club, break a mirror over her head; but make sure you don’t strike her – that is called a king pimps whipping.”

On types of women: “The prostitute is secretive and typically gets her money with a taste of class. The whore is lewd, cunning, sneaky and gets her money any way she can.”

On sluts: “It is incredible what a fifth of whiskey, wine or drugs can make some loose women do.”

To an air hostess he just banged: “Baby, you could make alot of money if you stop giving this heaven away and start selling it. Pretty as you are, you could make a mint”