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I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER UNTIL YOU TURN 30

Month: September, 2013

Just Another Brick In The Wall

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Look at that girl.  Hot, right?

She’s a 10.

You know what else, though?

One day, she is going to hit the wall.

One day, she will be so haggard and ugly that you wouldn’t even look at her if she stepped in the same elevator as you.

One day, she will be so wrinkled and mangy that the thought of fucking her will give you a de-rection.

One day, no man who is not the father of her child or related to her will give a shit about her.

One day, nobody will rack their brain for something to say to her.  Nobody’s heart will start racing at the mere sight of her.

One day, nobody will want to look at a picture of her.

One day, if she would dress in that same lingerie and show you that exact same pose, your reaction would be pure disgust.

Still afraid to approach her?

The wall is cruel in that it robs beauty from the world.  The wall is also necessary in that it helps force a woman to be modest or accept foul consequences.

Let’s take a look at the sexual market options of an extremely hot woman as she runs through life.

Today, at age 20, she is a 10.  Every man wants her.  Every woman wants to be her.  She attracts cads, dad material, and even the rare holy grail of guys who could be cads but want to be dads.  Agencies pay her for her photograph.  Men approach her often.  People buy her things and give her stuff for free.  No door is closed to her.

At 25, she is a 9.  She is still jerkoff material for horny betas browsing her facebook page.  The beta unattractive men still worship her.  Cads will still gladly take her for a romp.  She gets approached maybe slightly more now, the guys who were too nervous to approach her when she was a 10 are now trying to talk to her.  Though approaches have gone up, quality of man has gone slightly down. The attractive cad and dad combo suitors are still around but less enthusiastic, and she notices the really really hot men she craves have their eyes set on slightly younger women.

Five years pass, she is now 30.  She’s now an 8 maximum, probably less.  The modeling agency hasn’t called in four years.  The ever present beta dads still worship her.  There are far fewer cads chasing her and they are less tolerant of resistance and time before sex.  If she doesn’t put out after the second date, she never hears from guys again.  If she does put out before the second date, she still doesn’t hear from guys again.  She is just a notch.  Those sexy yet safe cad/dad combos are all swept off the market by smarter women.  Men in her preferred age range who would consider her for serious relationships are either nauseatingly beta, or have baggage, emotional or otherwise.  Rarely do men approach her on the street.

Another five years.  She is now 35.  At the very best, she is a 7.  She is never approached on the street anymore.  Even the beta dad guys seem to have baggage now.  The disney prince type admirable men are vanished from her dating sphere.  Even cad attention is dwindling.

Five christmases tick off the calendar and she hits 40.  The absolute best she can be is a 6 (and thats god damn generous).  She signs up for online dating and sees young up and coming cads in their early 20s want to use her for a quick secret confidence building fuck.   Caddish guys nearer her age will hit it, but they tolerate zero resistance or bullshit before sex.  Only very sexless vanilla guys who do not stimulate her emotions at all will take her on a second date.

Our girl hits 45.  Cads don’t want her anymore.  Cats don’t either, but she has them anyway.

The lesson for women is leverage your fucking youth and beauty for all its worth while you have them.  I don’t mean for money.  I don’t mean for sex.  I mean leverage them into something long-lasting and worthwhile.  Twenty year-old Sarah’s choices have far-reaching consequences for fifty-year old Sarah’s quality of life.

No matter how much money or great sex your looks get you while you are 20, it won’t make people give a shit about you when you are 50.

The happiest women are the ones who used the bait of youthful beauty to settle down with a good husband who wanted a family.  At 55 do you want kids and grandkids and stability or a match.com account?

Know that you are a depreciating asset to men in general.  As your value to all men decreases, you must build your value to one well-chosen man by proving trustworthy over and over, being a source of feminine support, and being a producer and care-giver to his genetic spawn.

The lesson for men: Take a look at that gorgeous girl.  She is a walking expiration date.  Her power in this world is fleeting.  She is the temporary head coach knowing he’s getting replaced at the end of the season.

Do not see her as a 20 year old hottie.

See her as a person.

This is just a snapshot of her life, and she will change drastically.

Her beauty will fade.

What else she got?

Man on a Mission

*Alright, feminists, playtime is over for now.  This blog will now return to its regularly scheduled programming.*

The most attractive thing to women is a man on a mission.

How does a man act when he’s on a mission?

A man on a mission cares not for any girl’s reaction to him.  He cares for his mission.  Sure, he may want sexual release, but he feels no approach anxiety.  To a man focused on a higher mission, approaching girls is like playing with little kids in a sandbox: cute, but ultimately meaningless.

A man on a mission naturally treats women with the aloof alpha attitude and dominant frame that PUAs try to imitate.  Picture a guy spending all day striving, sweating and bleeding for a mission, going home with his struggle still on his mind.  A girl flakes or gives him some drama, does he even care?

A man on a mission pursues sex and escalates boldly because he doesn’t have time to waste.  He does not have months to spend, he does not have time to buy seven dinners before a chance at sex.  He has shit to do.  Its fuck or walk, your choice.

A man on a mission worships no girl.  He puts his mission on a pedestal, not his girl.

A man on a mission is impossible to friendzone.  He simply doesn’t have time to listen to a girl’s emotional outpourings.

A man on a mission treats girls with abundance.  There are many girls, but only one mission.

A man on a mission has ambition, passion and drive.  Anybody who spends time with him can sense this.

A man on a mission is never at a loss for words.  He has stories.  I was (working on my mission) when…., My friend ______(who I know from my mission) and I……,

A man on a mission has boundaries.  He will not let a girl take up too much of his time or do anything that will jeopardize his mission.

A man on a mission chooses a wife or long term girlfriend carefully.  She must complement him and make his home life easier, as he is out living his mission.

A man on a mission does not check his phone every minute to see if that girl from the weekend texted him back.  He works on his mission, noticing only when he takes a break that she texted him hours ago.

A man on a mission cannot be rejected by a girl because he derives his self-esteem from how well he is pursuing his mission, not from the actions of anybody else.

A man on a mission finds status, wealth, and fame awaiting for him when he succeeds.  This was not his primary motivator but it attracts women nonetheless.

To a guy who can’t get laid, shitty game is a symptom, not the disease.  The root cause of all neediness, pedestalization, social anxiety, unworthiness, and lack of confidence is not having a mission.

Next time you have a girl problem, ask yourself:

Don’t I have something better to do?

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I Hit It First: Why A Girl’s Sexual Past Matters

A girl’s sexual past matters.

You will hear otherwise from delusional sluts who have been pumped and dumped yet are still hoping to attain commitment from a decent man, and from white knight feminist males who falsely believe that by agreeing with an irrational female perspective they might get an ounce of pussy thrown their way.  Even successful players rant against slut shaming to convince themselves they’re leaving girls better than they found them, and to rationalize their r-selected lifestyle as a heavenly ideal rather than embracing their role as bad boy anti-society hustlers, or to make sure the spigot of free pussy remains on tap because deep down they realize they’d get locked out of the sexual market in a more K-selected environment.

From these people you will hear that if you care about a girl’s past you are insecure, have jealousy issues, an inflated male ego, and a society-programmed madonna whore dichotomy.

Bullshit.

There are perfectly logical reasons why a rational, well-adjusted man would want his woman to have a clean sexual history.

1.) Girls with high N counts are fucking crazy.  With the biological threats of partner desertion, death by childbirth, and incurable STDs, having a high partner count had been a biologically impossibility for a woman until the 20th century.  As such, women are emotionally inequipped to handle all the emotional baggage that comes with getting their goods plundered by many pirate ships.  Consider we are the same humans today that we were in 1850, and in that time any girl with double digit sexual partners was almost certainly a poverty stricken prostitute.  Even if a girl does not have a very high N count, her sexual past still shows her general character and emotional stability.  Did she rebound failed relationships by fucking guys because she had to feel pretty and wanted? Did she seek out a lot of bad boys, older men, rich guys, etc.? Does she use guys for validation because she has a hole in her soul?  Is she fucking only boyfriends, or does she have a history of fucking cool guys who won’t commit to her?  These things matter.  Experienced players can vouch for the fact that craziness and sluttiness are highly correlated.

2.) For every sexual partner a girl has, her capacity to emotionally bond to her next sexual partner decreases.  The less sexual partners a girl has, the more deeply she can fall in love.  The intensity of her heart throbbing, her butterflies, and how much her lover’s touch feels like electricity on her skin are all negatively correlated to how sexually experienced she is. The slut cannot enjoy sex with the same emotional intensity as her more chaste counterpart. If you want to inspire deepest love and passion possible, you want a partner with a thin sexual history.

3.) Nobody wants to treat somebody else’s whore like a princess.  If a store is giving away free milk to every one else, and then tries to charge you full price, would you pay it?  Could you walk to your car after purchasing milk, and see all the people who got free milk smirking at you for being a sucker because they got the same enjoyment out of the same milk for free?  Simply put, a girl puts a price on her vagina, why outbid it?  You wouldn’t pay above sticker price for a new car, would you?

4.) Baggage.  The more partners a girl has, the more likely she is to have baggage, aka lingering feelings, past lovers coming out of nowhere to threaten your relationship, conflicting relationships in social circles you have to deal with, etc.  Its not a small amount of relationships that end due to issues like this.  Even if you think all the other reasons are bullshit, you ignore this one at your own peril.

5.) STD risk (obvious).

6.) Past behavior predicts future behavior.  It’s not a perfect predictor, but its the best indicator we have.  If a girl has fucked a lot of guys in the past, she’ll probably fuck a lot of guys in the future.  This means cheating risk, or the risk that she will end your relationship on a whim because she finds another guy she wants to fuck.  And it goes deeper.  Has she ever cheated on a past partner?  If so, you’ll get cheated on.  Does she accuse her exes of abusing her, but is sketchy on the details?  If so, she’ll be telling people you abused her when you break up.  Past sexual dalliances and relationship problems generally predict a future of the same.  If she wants you to stay with her until she’s old and riddled with osteoporosis, the least she can do is keep her legs shut when she’s young.

7.) Evolutionary embedded disgust.  It is not social conditioning that a man feels visceral disgust at the thought of his girls previous partners plowing her sweet nether regions.  In past times, the seal of virginity was the only paternity guarantee available.  A girl with multiple partners would give birth to a son of unknown fatherhood.  The men would commit less resources, if any, to the raising of her child.  Our biology demands that we treat girls who aren’t pure as pump and dumps.  That we now have DNA testing doesn’t change the fact that a man feels repulsion at the thought of committing time, emotions and resources to a slut, because it could have meant genetic death via false paternity.  The feeling is scientifically valid and cannot be invalidated by self-serving solipsism.

But DOUBLE STANDARD!!

Don’t these reasons apply to guys as well?  Sure, some of the above listed reasons do apply to guys, and a girl shopping for a long-term mate should be aware of these things.

For instance, a high N count guy is much more likely to have cynicism and an embrace of the player lifestyle that would lead him to be bad relationship material.  However, a woman’s attraction to a man is more complex than that man’s attraction to her.  An experienced man who other women desire sexually is more attractive to women, and men who are attractive to women usually fuck lots of them.  Most low N count guys don’t maintain low partner count because of some kind of golden halo of virtue, most the time its because he has no options with women to begin with.  (Of course, a guy who treats his seed like liquid gold and values monogamy can keep his partner count low while having a great sex life.)

Women want the desired man who chooses her over all his past and potential lovers.  Whether or not he fucked the other girls who desired him is irrelevant (though he usually does).  For fucks sake, just look at all chick flicks, romance novels and other inane girl fiction that has the classic “reformed player falls for girl” as its vagina tingling plotline.

Ladies, if you really want to kill this double standard, why don’t you find yourself a nice male virgin to date?

The lesson here?  Actions have consequences.

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Your Seed is Gold

Sex is too easy.

Work out, put on nice clothes, talk to girl, tease her, tell her cool things about me, pretend to be interested in her, fuck her.

See?

Too fucking easy.

It’s stupid.

I don’t give a shit about sex.  Any broad can spread her legs.

You know what I do care about?  Holding girls to a higher standard.

Why?  Because my seed is liquid fucking gold and I don’t give it out like its god damn tap water.

See girls, your pussy is powerless to me.  What else you got?

You slip on a tight skirt and throw on some makeup and flaunt those nice tits and think your job is done. You shit-test me all the way into the bedroom expecting me to give you amused mastery and show you my status and give you attention and ignore you just right all at the same time, and then you’ll give me sex.

But why should I give you my valuable time and let you revel in my charisma?

Sex, is that the big deal?  I’m supposed to feel so grateful that you blessed me with that magical unicorn pussy of yours?

I got news for you girls.  For a guy with any clue, finding sex is as easy as finding a pizzeria in New York, and like pizza in New York, its all pretty fucking good.

Your brand ‘aint that special.

Sex is everywhere and anywhere I want it, I don’t give a shit about yours.

It takes more than a nice curve of the ass or a bat of the eyelashes to earn my seed.

My salty essence and genetic code is a gift from my father, and his father, and his father, and on it goes.  Its the sticky genetic code of self-sufficient men who have protected and provided for family, women and children.  Its the haplogroup of men who built civilization.  I have the genetic lineage of warriors, business owners, firefighters, blacksmiths, farmers, herders, poets, politicians, soldiers, artists and even chefs.  Hard jobs that help build the world, thinking jobs that help build a culture, they’ve all been done by men in my bloodline.  My ceiling for accomplishment is limitless.

I’m not some average guy begging to give my seed away.  My seed is valuable and I know it.

Men of lesser genetics may be able to afford spraying their seed anywhere; I allow myself no such atrocities.

My sperm could populate an entire society of strong good looking altruistic people and any girl who takes it in would be lucky to be a vessel towards that new world.

But for that I demand a high price.

Whether or not our sex is intended to end in pregnancy makes no difference.  Just the sheer fact that it could makes me demand the same high price.

You better have enviable genetics yourself- I don’t breed with inferior stock.  Beauty is the minimum and you better know how important that is.  Long hair grown to impress me, healthy diet and exercise to maintain your figure and viability of your eggs.

But the beauty that draws the stares, stutters and drools of lesser men won’t capture my attention for more than a millisecond.  I am inundated with a surplus of beauty in my daily pursuits, I can assure you that yours ‘aint that special.  You probably look like shit first thing in the morning or on the first day of your period.

I expect impeccable hygiene and classy style.  A body tainted by tattoos and excessive piercings and slutty clothing signals you are available for sex to lesser men than myself.  I’ll have none of that.

I demand a low N count to show you value your body and sex, and the seed I am about to give you will be appreciated on the level it deserves.  A low N count shows both intelligence and confidence as you are smart enough not to give your body to charlatans and scoundrels, and confident enough to wait for the high value man you know you deserve.

I expect manners and grace.  No swearing, drunkenness, burping, sarcasm or anything else unbecoming of a lady.  I spend a lot of time working with and competing against men in my daily life, the last thing I need is the company of a woman who acts like the men I must compete with.  You exist to soothe, not to grate.

A year from now I will be richer and fitter and more socially respected in the Kingdom, but your beauty will have faded a notch.  I demand that you treat me with the humility and respect that this biological reality dictates.

Finally, there is nothing I despise more than a woman who shows any disgust for my jizz.

It is the Royal Essence and you better enjoy every last drop.
If it lands on your face, chest or back, consider it raindrops from heaven, a rope of Holy Yogurt.
If you are lucky enough to get it in your mouth, savor it like the nourishing nectar of the Gods.
If I shoot it inside you consider it the greatest compliment of all.  You will feel an immediate buzz.
My jizz is to women what Walter White’s pure blue meth is to junkies.
You’ll take my seed, sweetly tell me “thank you sir” and buzz with happy feminine energy for the next day while you iron my fine shirts and indulge in memories of me.

I’ll settle for nothing less.

Some girls don’t want to respect a man that much.  They have been poisoned by feminism or never had a strong male figure to look up to growing up or they have already taken far too high a volume of cock to revere their next one. I have no use for those girls.  Even a one-night stand with them is worthless beyond the ten-second orgasm, itself not worth the time spent to get it. Leave them for the men who have a low enough opinion of themselves to not demand such respect.

For guys, I don’t give a shit how many girls you’ve fucked just like I don’t give a shit how many pizzerias you’ve eaten at.  A man is measured more by the pizzeria’s he refuses to eat at, the prices he refuses to pay for average pizza, if you know what I mean.

Remember, you set the price of your seed.

Mine is fucking gold.

What’s yours?

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