Monthly Archives: April 2011
Shh.
Sometimes it is best to withhold words and to simply watch.
Behold.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPvmpS4HOpU]
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lS33i-ju1yU&feature=related]
You too can accomplish this.
Lesson of the 90′s.
A disastrously disease that feminism unleashed upon society was their complete disregard for young boys. From the moment feminism rained down from ivory towers and upon polite society the message was clear: Let us begin with the children, particularly little girls.
Girl Power was the mantra.
Girls rule, boys drool.
Girls were told to be proud of their gender and that world was “finally” theirs for the taking.
Boys were told that pretend playing with guns was bad.
Boys were told that they should be nice and subdued like the girls.
Running and roughhousing was bad.
Girls were given inspirational speeches, TV adverts, and guiding hands.
Boys were given Ritalin.
I myself remember the lessons that school imparted upon me. For a while I thought my father’s displays of the masculine were savage and not the way of a civilized world.
For a minute I was convinced that people should not own guns, judging a girl based on her appearance was loathsome , and my own gender was the reason things were so dreary in the world.
Yes Mrs. Teacher Miss, men did not work plowing fields, building towns, digging wells, and protecting their families from enemies. All they did was sit with their friends drinking alcohol and smoking (both terrible things as well) as the females of society toiled bare-foot in the kitchen with children hanging off their skirts.
There is a “proper” way to act around girls. You have to be amazingly nice to them. Help them whenever. Be their shoulder to cry on. She will see what a great guy you are and will like you. [..eventually after she's spent her youth with the alpha males that never subscribed to elementary school lessons, but you get her in the end bub and that is a win nonetheless.]
However my consumption of this inculcation was quickly undone once I hit puberty.
I have recently run into a perfect visual aid of when my eyes truly peered at the world.
Behold:
Yes I was one of those youngins. Yes I thought that perhapse one day she would see that I was the right guy for her and she would stop finding herself falling for other guys that didn’t care.
Years of indoctrination eradicated in a moment. Natural selection.
We are told that we can overcome our prehistoric programing and become a civilized race. However the pursuit for libido satisfaction will not be fettered. Boys are taught a certain way to be around girls. They are taught to be their “girlfriends” instead an opposite. Destruction of the duality concept. However boys will act a certain way in order to get access to girls. Girls will never act another way.
Girls remain static while males adapt. Males are told that a certain adaption will work. When they don’t, genetic programming will revert to the old method.
Feminism forgot a very important tenant of male/female relations, females want alpha-males.
To all the boys out there that live with stars in their eyes and rainbows on their minds. To those boys that fall for their female “friend” I offer you one simple solution: Squash it.
You have showered her with your abundant investment and the returns have been dismal. Don’t become jaded, just understand that your investment strategy was the wrong one.
Start anew. This time wear baggier jeans.
One Chance.
I’m splayed across two seats on the subway ignoring her looks. She is giving me that lucrative window of initial courtship. There are no second chances to make a good impression. The clock starts its melodic tic the moment she holds eye contact with you.
You have only seconds. The moment will pass. There is never a chance to take a gulp, prepare your talking points, and walk over. Fools perish with indecision.
She’s wearing white heels. Her jeans frayed at the bottom as if scratched by the asphalt when she wore them with flip-flop sandals. Her black hair burnished with a violet hue. Her cheeks lack the blush of a lesser experienced girl. I tilt my head and give her a complimentary smirk. Tonight I have no stomach for a chase.
I turn away from her. She begins ego saving procedures: rationalizing a reason why it was best that I did not talk to her. My value in her mind naturally begins to drop.
Apathy of the soul.
Next to me is another obedient boyfriend. Flip flops and North Face fleece. Stupid grin upon his visage. He’s attempting to nuzzle into his girlfriend. Her toe-nails are inappropriate for her open-toed footwear. Absence of both pedicure and nail polish. Her hair lacks a healthy youthful glow. I sense a hint of baby-powder; she obviously has not washed her hair recently.
She does not reciprocate his affection. Her eyes are firmly engrossed in her smartphone. She evidently is a very creative spirit, her thumbs are dancing across an iPhone screen. Her boyfriend is persistent, he has changed tactics: attempting to entwine his fingers with hers. She gives an unmasked shrug. Her fingers have more important things to be doing. He is undeterred. His eyes blaze with the naiveté of a calf to slaughter.
Behind me is a group of friends. They are all obviously ready to storm the town and take shit from no one. Their cackles and stomping of cankles vibrate throughout the car as their pungent excuses of perfumes reminiscing of the stench experienced within a camber of a backed up sewage plant begins to cling to the clothing of those around them.
The cute one will find herself unable to talk to any attractive guy for her posse of the odious will run interference. Their jealousy and own inability to make themselves more appealing will lead them to submerge their more attractive friend in the same misery they engross themselves.
However perhapse tonight is the night that a shining knight will find himself near the group and his interest will not be sparked by the cute one of the group. Perhapse, he will find himself interested in the other girls that never register on the radar of the boys in the club or bar. Perhapse tonight a guy will realize what a great personality she has and how great and accomplished she is.
I trust my gut and my gut is telling me that her personality is as uninviting as her cottage cheese thighs.
My stop is near. Friday night is beginning. After a hard week everyone is preparing to let loose. However it is easily discernable that no one on this train besides me will enjoy themselves. Their mirth is alcohol inspired and false. Behind every laugh, smile, and back slap is their fear of going home alone.
The night is young; they still have 6 hours before last call. The frenzy in their mind is far off.
Train doors open. A girl walks in. Boner inspiring. I smother the reaction to sit up straight. I do the opposite of all the other guys. Steve McQueen.
She walks towards me. Her head is low, her shoulders up to her neck. Protective stance. She knows her value and she knows the envious glares that she will be greeted with if she raises her chin.
Brunette. Svelte. Blue heels and a silver dress.
She is wearing a stylish blazer. It is a chilly night and this girl has considered the unattractive appearance of a girl shivering on her walk outdoors or during a cigarette break.
She turns to her friend and says something. Her head rises and I find myself staring at full lips. Inspiring lips.
I perceive an Eastern European tone. I could not have had an easier conversation starter. I can flirt in Polish, Ukrainian and Russian. For the times it isn’t those two I can easily transition and start a conversation on how similar the Slavic languages are.
Doors part. My stop.
I get off and pause as the train behind me rolls into the darkness.
I was not in a hurry. I could have talked to her and then made my way back.
Coulda. Woulda. Shoulda.
Excuses.
Fools perish with indecision.
Strip Club Dining.
Last Saturday I went to a strip club for dinner. Out of the box thinking. For many this may seem outrageous and perhapse those with weaker consitutions may find themselves disgusted. However DC provides for a great strip club meal experience. This is mainly due to DC laws banning lap dances. You find yourself able to eat in peace without being hustled.
It all comes down to what you want to spend. My friends and I spent money on food and libation. Prompt exit.
Strip clubs are fascinating environments. Everything is crafted to create a land of hope for the weak. Only those with hawk eyes and strong mental prowess recognize strip clubs for what they are. The rest go to sleep happily naive to their pathetic plight.
When we first entered the club and sat down, our waitress looked upon us with eyes of scorn. In her mind we were just another group of 20 something friends that came to a strip club to act like “grown-ups.”
She would quickly change her tune and find herself giving us glances of disbelief.
My friends and I were sitting waiting for our food. We found ourselves with looks of indifference. Our gazes would periodically shift from the games on the TV screens and the nude females dancing around us.
Her first surprise was when we promptly asked for a menu. She hovered over us while our heads were engrossed in the menu, oblivious to the nudity around us.
Her second surprise was at us chating while we ate. Periodic glances at the dancers and games to check the score.
Her third surprise would be when we gave her more attention than the dancers that would walk around attempting to talk to us.
At the conclusion of the meal she gave us a warm smile. We did not act like the rest of the poor soulless peons in the strip club.Exceptionalism.
We did not walk up and stared at the whispering eyes of the dancers. We did not hungerily inhale the scent of a female while our pupils dilated in false pleasures.
We do not find ourselves jonseing for female companionship.
We did not exchange greenbacks for a short lived ego high brought upon the illusion of an attractive girl talking to us.
When a dancer came to us she was met with neutral gazes. No oogling. No smiling. Just a nod and a brusque compliment. “Good job” was sufficient.
We came. Ate. Enjoyed the ambiance. Left.
Strip club dinners reiterate an important lesson: never be hungry for anything but success.
I thought I had seen men at their weakest. Nay. Nothing is more pathetic than a man with a fist full of Washingtons staring at a vagina with hopes that maybe she’ll pity him enough to let him fingerbang her for a second. Enough to get the scent on his finger. A finger he swears he would never wash again.
Every girl there avoids looking these guys in the eyes. She avoids feeling repulsed by how broken these men are.
The only looks they give are to the guys that could care less whether she’s wearing clothes or not. Guys that aren’t even looking at them most of the time.
The guys that came for the burgers because they’re better here than the Five Guys in Georgetown.
Anthem for The Haters.
There are numerous people that dislike my blog. They mainly fall into two camps: guys who believe that I am wrong and that females are not strategic in their mate choices and militant feminists. Unsurprising. I do advocate for a man with balls, who is seen by the unenlightened as the poster child for an oppressive patriarchy.
If you have read through my website and find yourself shaking your head in disagreement: Bless your heart. Why you believe that becoming an “alpha-dog” is not a worthy cause is beyond me. Groveling and being indecisive are traits that get people killed. Neville Chamberlain.
However, I would point your attention to a particular song that has gotten quite a bit of play in the last few months. It is Cee-Lo Green’s “Fuck You.” Let us dissect.
Chorus
I see you driving ’round town
With the girl I love and I’m like,
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo
I guess the change in my pocket
Wasn’t enough I’m like,
Fuck you!
And fuck her too!
I said, if I was richer, I’d still be with ya
Ha, now ain’t that some shit? (Ain’t that some shit?)
And although there’s pain in my chest
I still wish you the best with a…
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo
First thing that males do not realize is that girls are searching for something: masculine prescence, material goods, and/or a meal ticket. This is not their fault. Females are genetically programmed to find the best resources for her and her potential progeny and males have lived in a society that obscures this fact. Biological Prerogative. Many guys will never realize this and instead fall into the trap of Victorian romanticism. However, we live in a world where females have been liberated from social constraints and are able with fluidity to move from one partner to another without societal challenge. Torrential downpour of truth.
Now a female will stay with you if you lack resources, but only if she believes that you will either work your way towards attaining them or because you make her feel feminine. If she’s wearing the pants and you lack the masculine traits her prehistoric subconscious seeks. She will be gone. Masculine testicles do not fit in skinny jeans.
Second, the singer already has stated that he “loves her.” Love is a powerful tool and emotion. Never freely give it up until she first shows you love. Until then appreciate her if she deserves it, but save the “love” for someone deserving.
Third, the singer believes that having monetary power would have kept her around. Now I do not deny that gold-diggers traverse amongst us with greedy glares and sweet tongues, but the singer is missing a very important fact. Your girl won’t leave you if you make her feel right. If you lack resources and an alpha-dog presence of course she will leave you. However realize the main problem. It’s not your wealth, it’s your inability to have her burn with desire for you that drove her into the arms of another. Truth.
Yeah I’m sorry, i can’t afford a Ferrari,
But that don’t mean i can’t get you there.
I guess he’s an Xbox and I’m more Atari,
But the way you play your game ain’t fair.
I pity the fool that falls in love with you
(oh shit she’s a gold digger)
Well
(just thought you should know nigga)
Ooooooh
I’ve got some news for you
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend
Once again the singer believes that his lack of material purchasing power is to blame. As highlighted earlier this is a fallacy. Furthermore he is disgusted that she is playing games. The dance known as seduction is a game. Ask any female and she will tell you that flirting and her SAT level questions are a way for her to judge the mettle of a potential mate. If you don’t like the game, enjoy solo-gratification sessions. The game has been played for aeons. Animals play the game. We’re no different.
The singer is also bitter towards his former flame. Similar to how he told her to “fuck-off” in the chorus, he is here again telling her that he will feel sorry for her new mate. This is the wrong way to think. While you may believe that your righteous anger will emotionally slay her, all you are doing is feeding the beast that is her id. When a female hears your acidic scornful verbalizations and looks upon your snarling jowls, she begins to believe that you are simply jealous and that she proceeded correctly.
Enjoy your life. Start dating around. Do not let her negative memory taint your soul and suffocate those that come near you.
Secret: Nothing keeps a girl up at night more than a man that doesn’t miss her.
Now I know, that I had to borrow,
Beg and steal and lie and cheat.
Trying to keep ya, trying to please ya.
‘Cause being in love with you ass ain’t cheap.
I pity the fool that falls in love with you
(oh shit she’s a gold digger)
Well
(just thought you should know nigga)
Ooooooh
I’ve got some news for you
Yeah go run and tell your little boyfriend
Look at all the hard work he did to win her approval. Counter intuitive Method: to win a female’s approval don’t bother. Live your way.
As a guy I understand the drive to warn another member of the tribe. However the best evidence is that that can be observed. Do not bother telling another man the dangers he may be entering when he goes out with your ex. Let him see how she treated you and how she speaks about you to determine what his potential fate may be. Any girl that speaks ill of her boyfriend I take with a grain of garlic salt. The guys that would have made the best long term mates for her are spoken with syllables of nausea.
Now baby, baby, baby, why d’you wanna wanna hurt me so bad?
(so bad, so bad, so bad)
I tried to tell my mamma but she told me
“this is one for your dad”
(your dad, your dad, your dad)
Uh! Whhhy? Uh! Whhhy? Uh!
Whhhy lady? Oh! I love you oh!
I still love you. Oooh!
I see you driving ’round town
With the girl I love and I’m like,
Fuck you!
Oo, oo, ooo
The singer’s mother is disgusted that a girl got under his skin. She is disgusted he is so weak after a break-up. She can not believe that her son is contemptable. She does not want to bother with him. She realizes she has failed her duty to make her son an attractive prospect for females. She is ashamed.
I imagine that the singer’s father is from a time where men acted like men and that he will be able to slap some sense into this pathetic sniveling singer.
I am too optimistic.
Three Month Anniversary
Everything requires an examination after a period of time. One must be sure that the wheels are properly greased and that wear and tear has not made something structurally unsound. It would be foolish to go on a road-trip before checking your automobile’s oil, brake pads, air filter, tires and spare, and headlights. Girls do this.
I personally have found the 3 month mark to be the best time frame to scrutinize life.
At the same time that I replace my toothbrush, under shirts, and tongue scraper I meditate and determine whether my life is at the pinnacle that it currently can be. I examine everything: my diet, my levels of contentment, relationships, as well as my physical training.
Plateaus are for the haters.
It is easy to establish goals. What is difficult is maintaining and tweaking our own behaviors to accomplish them.
Familiarity and comfort are shoes of cement. They keep us from true personal achievement.
I take a week to determine where I succeed and where I failed over the last three months. I look at my accumulation of material, mental, and emotional goods and with the subtlety of a demolition crew destroy the things that are making me weak and unhappy. Cleansing rebirth.
Surgical precision is for pack-rats.
If any girl has been giving me grief. Out of my mind. Radio silence.
If I let myself cheat on my caveman diet beyond a Saturday. Locking up my funds and only buying what is on my grocery list. No more cash on me. Credit level on my card at $400 for emergencies. Tupperware is my new best friend.
If my training not giving me the results I wish. Recognize that gravity and iron mock me. Conquer.
If I find my spirit being sucked out by the drudgery of life. Prescription: living a life the breeds envy.
I learned a while ago that nothing in life is static. Everything falls apart. It is up to you whether you allow your world to crumble around you while you close your eyes tightly with naivety. Or. You destroy and rebuild on your terms.
I am on the cusp of my three month anniversary of self. I have began to clear away the clutter and filth that has accrued.
I am breathing fresh air.
I am seeing vividly.
I walk with a spring in my step. I have cast off the weighted vest of the last three months of accumulation.
Smirk at the poor suckers that are too afraid to do the same.
