Wimminz be deluded

April 25, 2010
krauserpua

I remember being in a statistics class at university. The lecturer stood there in front of us he demolished our self-images as special snowflakes. Quoting figures with actuarial precision he looked around the room and said x% of you will marry a work colleague, x% will emigrate, x% will die of a self-inflicted ailment and many other aggregate predictions. I put my hand up and said “If 4% of men are gay and there’s fifty men in this room, which two are they?” He responded that any individual life is difficult to predict but aggregation imposes a predictable pattern onto social groups. Whatever, I was just trying to be the smart-arse.

The point is this: There’s a limited range of common life trajectories, and most people conform more or less to pattern. This is inevitable. We have hard-wired biological impulses that drive us in certain directions, we have social institutions that make a narrow range of paths the easy option and all others difficult, and then we have a limited range of cultural archetypes to aspire to. People just aren’t very different.

While reading this attention-whoring wail of toe I was reminded of a specific case.

The Enemy of Man and Woman

Feminism has created it’s own female archetype, which I call the Bitter Twisted Harpy, the pioneers of whom are now entering their dotage. The trajectory is thus:

The Pure
Age 0 to 15: Progressively absorb the cultural Marxism and vagina-entitlement of Western society without realising it, but be forbidden by society from acting out upon it.

The Trainee Slut
Age 15-18: Experiment with boys, who you still like, test the limits of your freedom and have a great time while being held back a little by natural impulses against bad behaviour and a poorly-formed self esteem.

The Useful Idiot
Age 19-23: Acquire a conscious intellectual sense of entitlement (feminism), manufacture a resentment against teh patreearchee, live a soft life parasitical upon parents and taxpayers, and build an enormous edifice of haughty arrogance to hide the fragile ego within. Obtain considerable validation from men and begin to overcome the instinctive constraints on slutty behaviour.

The Whore
Age 24-29: Full-on alpha-chasing and sport fucking while holding down a worthless paper-shuffling non-job in the public sector or a joke industry (HR, advertising, non-profits etc). Increased divergence between perceived and actual sexual market value based upon conflation of sexual value with relationship value. Growing resentment at being pumped and dumped, decreased ability to pair bond, gnawing fear grows towards terror at the vacuity of such a worthless existence.

The Sobering Drunk
Age 30: Baby rabies hits hard. Last gasp attempt to snag an alpha.

The Femo-Cultist
Age 31-34: Suspension of reality and retreat into denial via Sex and the City, Bridget Jones Diary, Cosmo and internet dating. Various rationalisations of having a successful career, having high standards and liking the person that experience has made them. A renewed dedication to go out partying and find a man. Much desperation and making a fool of oneself ensures.

Female. Aged 34.

The Cornered Animal
Age 35: High speed collision into The Wall. Absolute panic. Choices now reduced to (i) a skin-crawling beta and his wallet (ii) IVF intentional single-motherhood (iii) paternity trapping a careless player or worst of all (iv) buying cats and writing a feminist blog.

The Condemned
Age 36-40: A sustained period of regret, despair and hollowness. Compulsive sharing of one’s story while abjectly failing to learn the lessons thereof.

The Witch
Age 41+: Gradual withdrawal from social life and resignation to occupying a similar social rung as the Omega male.

None of this is inevitable but at each stage the woman is acting upon delusions of her own self-worth and with a painful lack of awareness about the ensuing stages she is commiting herself to. As my gift to the young women of our decadent collapsing society, allow me to offer the following advice.

The Pure – Follow your creative and positive impulses to like those around you, to listen to daddy, and to be wary of the bad girls.
The Trainee Slut – Remember you feel dirty and guilty after sex for a reason. Don’t let your friends bullshit you that you a stuck up loser if you don’t co-sign their bullshit. Boys will like you more if you don’t have sex.
The Useful Idiot – Recognise that life never gets easier than this and it will never be this easy again. You are riding the crest of a wave and should look to lock-in the best man you find. It’s downhill from here.
The Whore – Don’t come near me you disgusting skank. Ok, if I must offer advice here it is: accept you are nowhere near as fabulous as you think and these guys are just sport fucking you and that’s why your relationships don’t last. Each passing year you lose more of your eggs and the quality of man you can retain reduces. Learn to settle – you might still get a good guy. And learn some fucking wife skills so he has a reason to spend time with you that doesn’t involve fucking.
The Sobering Drunk – Stay off the bottle. You are in the last chance saloon. Grasp the moment.
The Femo-Cultist – You have now become my enemy. Fuck off. If you want to step off the juggernaught before it hits the wall you need to reconcile yourself to settling for a beta and popping that first kid out as soon as possible. Remove other Femo-Cultists from your life – they do not want you to be happy.
The Cornered Animal – You are officially fucked. You will never achieve the happiness and contentment of a passionate pair-bond with a high quality man who loves you, nor will you raise happy well-adjusted children. The best you can get is a guy ten years older than you who is equally desperate for kids.
The Condemned – You primary goal is to avoid disgracing yourself in public and driving all of your friends away from you. You are already a leper, so try to be a polite one. Develop life skills such as intriguing conversation, cooking and dependability. If you are useful and agreeable to those around you then you’ll not suffer ostracization. Avoid at all costs the various panic plays: a round-the-world cruise, a Spanish waiter, mistressing to an old businessman, cougardom.
The Witch – There’s no way back. Nothing you can do.

Lest this seem harsh readers should remember there is a far better, far easier life trajectory available to 95% of women which up until forty years ago was called “normal”. It still exists in the mythical fantasia called Nonanglosphereland:

Grow up, be nice. Have tentative relationships with boys you like. When you’re about 22 declare your fact-finding period over and start evaluating all future boyfriends for their marriage potential. Junk the careerist bullshit and focus upon getting a ring through a process of (i) being a woman a man would want to marry and (ii) screening out men who aren’t marriageable. Commit early and ease into the housewife / mother role without a fuss. Enjoy the fruits of a long stable relationship with the most important man in your life.

Seeing as most Western women seem incapable of comprehending such a plan, much less actioning it. Here’s a bullet point list in simple language

  • Don’t get fat
  • Try to look pretty
  • Be nice
  • Don’t put out until at least the fifth date
  • Develop wife skills
  • Avoid bad boys
  • Avoid bad girls
  • Don’t fuck more than one man a year
  • Never ever fuck on the same day you met the guy under any circumstance
  • Don’t pursue a career

I bang my first curvy Romanian office girl

January 18, 2010
krauserpua

Saturday 16th January, 2010. Oh lordy, this was a long and convoluted sarge…

Flush though I am with the success of banging a fresh new girl this really can’t go down in the memoirs as a textbook case of effective seduction. Quite the opposite. I think it’s taken me a little over the three-date rule to get it done – so thank fuck I wasn’t paying for them. Like all good stories, this one begins at the beginning, which for a day time sarge is the approach. To recap:

Day 1 – Open in Westfields shopping mall, direct. Bounce to ice cream stall, turn into instant date. Escalation: kiss on mouth, no tongues

Day 2 – Milkshakes in The Diner, pizza in Soho, drink in a pub. Escalation: make out, kop a feel of breasts

Day 3 – Entourage game at nightclub.  Escalation: make out, send her back, take the Spaniard home.

Day 4 – Walk along South Bank, drink in pub, Chinese restaurant. Escalation: none

Day 5 – She comes round the house, a drink in a private member’s club. Escalation: barebreasted at my place, some rubbing of pussy

Day 6 – She drives me to Leeds Castle, then sunday roast in a pub, back to my place: Escalation: none

Day 7 – Meet after work, drinks in a different private members club. Escalation: none

Day 8 – Burlesque bar/club ’till late. Escalation: none

Day 9 – Private members club, she stays the night. Escalation: bingo – full close.  *audience round of applause*

 

Biffed

 

This sarge had been maddeningly slow and I just couldn’t figure out how much was me lacking escalation skills, how much was the shitty shitty logistics, and how much is just her as a difficult-to-close girl. Here’s my thoughts:

Escalation skills: I have been nice-guy far too long and it’s tended to get me LJBF’d. I’d hold back from sexualising encounters because subconsciously I was enjoying the validation of bouncing the girls and taking their numbers and raising the stakes would risk losing the girl, and hence the validation. Took me a while to realise that was happening and RSD’s Foundations DVDs helped identify the cause. Losing a girl through sexualisation in no way undermines the value of your original approach and thus doesn’t retract the validation. With HB8 Romania she was obviously into me and the dating frame was bringing out the nice guy again. I was caught between knowing it would eventually happen if I kept ploughing, while knowing equally that she was judging me on not being a desparate horny-dog jumping her at every opportunity. So I settled for the slow gradual escalation, with frequent takeaways / one step forward two steps back.

I was trying hard to calibrate to the girl. Advice from Tony T was to spend more time in comfort and take the pressure off her on escalation. By projecting the attitude that sex is no big deal, if it happens it happens, then she’ll get the comfort she needs to let me go forward.

Shitty logistics: This girl lives and works waaaay out of London. Every time we meet it has to be arranged, in a dating frame. There’s no casual 9pm call of “me and the guys are out at Club XYZ, why don’t you pop by.” She hates public transport, irrationally so, and loves her car. That means she drives in to meet me and won’t drink alcohol. It wasn’t till Day 9 that I finally got her to drink more than a single glass of wine. Achieving that required giving her a pretext to avoid the Anti Slut Defense kicking in. It came in the following text exchange, after she’s initiated by sending me a picture of her car covered in snow:

Krauser: You doing ok?

HB8: Sure, in bed watching a girlie movie. You?

Krauser: I might watch a girlie movie too. Different kind 😉

HB8: :)) Enjoy

Krauser: Heh

HB8: Pervert!

Krauser: Double heh!

[next day] Krauser: Keep Saturday free. We’re doing cool stuff. – [various texts follow on random fluff]

[Saturday] HB8: Mmmh, morning

Krauser: Aye. I’m in a friend’s NLP seminar. Can you get in for 5pm?

HB8: What’s NLP? I can try. I’ll drive.

Krauser: Neuro Linguistic Programming. Bring your overnight bag. We’ll go to the fruit market early tomorrow, finally.

So now she’s got her pretext because we’d twice aimed to go to that market on a Sunday and twice she’d gotten out of bed too late to make it worth the while. Throughout the evening on Day 9 she’s sipping wine in moderation and asking the waiters to go easy on the alcohol in her cocktails. I sense she’s keeping her options open. She doesn’t mention having the overnight bag, or staying overnight, until ten minutes before the f-close. Lesson learned – give her a pretext to assuage the ASD.

She’s tough to close: She’s a bit nerdy, and looks a little out of place in the club environment with party girls around her. At one point I was seriously considering the possibility that no other man had ploughed this furrow. Benefit of hindsight I think this is her playing an instinctive girl game to angle for the LTR. She’s protecting her relationship value by not jumping into bed on the first pussy tingle. It has been successful in maintaining her value in my eyes and making me like her alot. I shall not be performing a pump’n’dump on her, she has proved herself better than that. So she’s played coy but allowed me to push things slightly closer to F-Close City each time. The eventual close began at about 1am in the private members bar. We are sitting across a tiny table after chatting for a long time. We spend lots of time locking eyes and not saying anything. Each time I turn on progressively more sexual energy until I’m giving her full-on rape eyes. No words, just solid contact with me visualising exactly what I intend to do to her when we get back to my place. Her physiology changes – pupils dilate, cheeks pinken, lips get fuller. Early on I’m doing standard triangular gazing from eyes to lips. Late on I’m adding in looking at her breasts and legs.

We get back to my place and she’s protesting about being tired and not looking forward to the drive home. I light candles and go set up my bedroom. I’ve left the heating on low while we’re out so the place is warm. I boil the kettle and put a hot water bottle in my bed and turn the low wattage lamp on. Back in the lounge she is stretched out on my sofa. We make out. I do lots of teasing and build sexual tension. As she starts squirming, I rip off her trousers. This is the make or break where I got LMR last time I tried. She goes with it. I’m about to pull off her knickers when she says “we should go to the bedroom, I’m not comfortable here”.

More makeout and I go to pull down her knickers. This time she says “I need to get something from my car”. I suspect it’s her overnight bag (or condoms) but I don’t want her putting her trousers or shoes back on, so I loan her my outdoor slippers and a long coat. I play protector saying I’ll watch over her from the doorway so she doesn’t get murdered – but I’m at least as interested in watching what she’s doing. She gets the overnight bag and comes back. It’s on. The rest is x-rated.

I bang my first black chick

January 5, 2010
krauserpua

Tuesday 29th December 2009 and I knock off work early to help Wisdom with his daygame 1-on-1 tutorials. The weather is shitty but not too much rain. His first student is a slightly goofy dude (as in persona, not teeth – but he’s a nice enough guy) who has been reading some material but not approached much. We get him to do a few sets. Wisdom is gone off to a nearby Starbucks to do a talk with the next student so I take Goofy around a bit. As we cross the Covent Garden piazza I hear a girl’s voice behind me singing along to her ipod for a couple of seconds. I turn around reflexively then carry on walking. Then I realise she’s fairly hot, so I stop and open HB6 Black:

Krauser: *indicates pull out headphones, she does* Did you really just start singing in the street?

HB6: *laughs, great response and I know I’ve hooked already* Yeah, um, I like this song.

We continue chatting for about ten minutes in the plaza there while Goofy observes. I try to bring him into the conversation a couple of times but mostly I’m ignoring him so he can just observe how I talk in set. HB6 totally ignores him like he’s invisible – her RAS is entirely on me. I’m running my usual routines including the panda stack and some evocative descriptions of winter. I watch for the pussy tingle leg crossing and sure enough I see it. Eventually I let her give me her number, do a boobie-to-boobie hug and walk off. Goofy observes how relaxed and natural it all seemed. It’s very rare for me to open indirect in daygame, so I was doing Mystery Method in waiting for IOIs before IOIing her. My follow up text an hour later is the “Jambone text”:

Krauser: Adam. I just met a girl. She’s really cute but she’s a street singer. I’m not sure if I should date her. She might be one of those X-factor perverts you told me about….

HB6: Is that from a song or something?! This reminds me of why I don’t give my number out to strangers on the street! 🙂

Two days later at work (yes Christmas eve) I send the “Assanova text“:

Krauser: I heard Enfield girls eat their own boogers

HB6: What craziness u doing today?

HB6: Don’t forget to wear your shell suits!

I figure the hook is strong and I can follow up on the weekend. I’ve number closed eight girls in three days so I’m not exactly chomping at the bit with this one. But then at 9pm as I’m getting dressed to go out to our New Year’s Eve party she texts asking what I’m up to tonight and when I tell her she sends: “Where / what is that? Hav vaguely heard of it. In [area] for random house gathering. Open to other offers ;)”

 

after touching my boner

That’s a green light to move into SNL mode so I frantically call round the guys to see if there’s a spare ticket. It’s 50-50 so I decide to wing it and tell her to meet me en-route to Jambone’s house where he has his target (who will be getting us in to a music biz after party later that night). Right from the beginning of this Day 2 I start kino – initially arm in arm walking and then as we drive to the venue she takes her shoes off and puts her feet across my thighs in the back seat. Things get a little wild after that.

Burto, Tony T and Jambone are there DHVing the shit out of me so before long HB6 is grinding me while I stand talking to the boys. When Burto goes to the bar both HB6 and HBmusic wrap themselves around him (jokingly) which lights up a whole bunch of girls around Burto who start IOIing him. Downstairs at the bar he comes up to say he’s opened a HB7 Brit and wants a DHV. I go over and on his introduction say to her “How do you know Burto? This guy gets laid like a rock star”. It sticks, because an hour later she comes up to me saying “where’s your friend, I want to see him”.

I start the sex talk and do The Stone with my target:

Krauser: You should stop grinding me

HB6: Why? *keeps grinding*

Krauser: Look what you are causing *puts her hand on my boner*. It’s too early to be having a boner, there’s still a long night ahead for me.

HB6: *pushes right up against me, lips almost touching* blah blah sex talk

Krauser: You can stop that seductive stuff. I’m not gonna fuck you tonight. I hardly know you *with a smirk on my face*

After the New Year countdown Burto’s target approaches me to find him. I tell her he went off to answer a business call (“It’s a ridiculous time to call, but it’s a really big contract so he had to take it”) and look for him downstairs. He’s right at the foot of the stairs necking on with HB6 Brunette. As I walk past to tell him he pushes the girl onto me and she starts making out with me rather aggressively – biting my ears and neck, groping my cock and stuff. Burto is just laughing. Then my HB6 comes down the stairs and see’s me. While Brunette is licking my ears I look at her with a helpless expression and say “Rescue me, these girls are too much!”

I take my target upstairs

Krauser: OK, this is the plan. I need you to be my bodyguard. You have to fight off all the girls who try to drag me to the toilets for a fuck. Can you do that

HB6: Yes *holds me tight, very jealous*

I go back to HB7 Brit and say Burto is downstairs. She follows me down. He’s gone. I take her hand and lead her round the whole dancefloor, ostensibly to find Burto but really to social proof the place. I leave her in a spot and walk to the toilets. Just as I enter I see Burto coming out of a cubicle with HB6 Brunette after she’s just blown him.

Krauser: Burto! Come here, HB7 is looking for you

Burto: Later darling *disengages from HB6 Brunette and follows my lead into makeout with HB7*

About twenty minutes later Ace and Becky turn up and we take two cars to the next party. While in the back seat I’m talking to Tony T while finger-fucking HB6 senseless. She’s totally into it. Takes ages to get parked and on the way to Chancery Lane tube I throw her against a bus shelter for more makeout and sex talk. Once in the venue I go for isolation in a hallway and there’s more of the same. The doorman tells us to move on so I go right to extraction.

Krauser: C’mon. Let’s go.

HB6: Where?

Krauser: My place. I’ve got a great bottle of whiskey. We’ll finish that.

HB6: I’m not drinking any more whiskey.

Krauser: OK, decaf coffee for you.

Her buying temperature is off the scale and now she has her pretext there’s no more argument. I just keep the logical mind engaged as we leave. There’s one more shit test: One station before my place she gets off the tube and says she’s going home.

Krauser: Come on. Nothing is gonna happen, I’m too tired. *drags her back onto the train*

HB6: OK.

After a couple of minutes taking off jackets, shoes and getting her a water I just lead her into the bedroom and throw her onto the bed. She’s offering really weak token resistance and mainly she’s trying not to be dominated sexually. So I dominate her sexually, and the resistance breaks entirely until I’m doing things to her that even I feel squeamish relating here. Afterwards, at about 6am, she goes home.