The Ex

2019-01-07 By Filed Under: Life Adventures, Musings, Sex Leave a Comment

I saw her again recently, a couple weeks before Christmas.

She was briefly visiting my city for a couple days, so we met for brunch to catch up. She’s doing well. She’s started dating a new guy. Good for her.

She was my first girlfriend. We dated for roughly five years, but ultimately we just couldn’t make it work. Much of that was due to the fact that during most of the time we were together, we lived in different cities due to our jobs. But we saw each other as much as we could.

We technically broke up a couple years ago, but we’ve still periodically stayed in touch. Hell, we’ve still even fucked a few times since breaking up.

I changed jobs a few months ago, one that had me relocate to the city in which she lived. For a brief period of time, I thought maybe the universe was giving us a second chance at love. I didn’t move for her, but I can’t deny that the move did fill me with hope at reconciling our relationship.

Ironically, she herself got a better job in a different city, moving away just as I moved in. The universe fills me with such hope, only to immediately snatch it all away. Sometimes I wonder that maybe there is a god, and he’s just trolling me at this point.

Fuck ten girls to get over her and then see if you still want her. That’s the common advice I found in the masculinity sphere of the Internet on dealing with a painful breakup. So I did that – and then some. Guess what? I still want her.

Many men develop one-itis for a particular girl because they don’t believe they’re capable of getting another one. But that’s not the case with me. I haven’t involuntarily been without female attention for long since breaking up with my ex.

Since our breakup, I’ve banged girls with bigger tits and girls with smaller tits. Skinnier girls and chubbier girls. Smarter girls and dumber girls. Richer girls and poorer girls. What that’s all taught me – none of those girls were her.

Hell, I’ve technically even had another girlfriend for almost the entire time since our breakup. Which begs the question: if you cheat on your current girlfriend with your ex-girlfriend whom you’re still in love with, which girl is the side chick? But I digress.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect. We had plenty of arguments that devolved into screaming matches. (Well, her screaming at me while I calmly and logically stated my points.) Hell, my car still has a few big scratches on it from where she keyed it after one particularly nasty argument. There actually isn’t any good, logical reason I should still want to be with her. And yet…

Back when we were dating, I used to tell her that she was like a drug to me. I should have thought through exactly what that meant.

I’ve never done heroin, but if heroin makes someone feel anything like the way I feel when I’m with her – then I completely understand why people do heroin. From what I’ve read, heroin is addictive because it makes a person feel so good that everything else afterward is just second-rate.

And that’s exactly how I feel about my ex. I can’t completely articulate why – but no other girl makes me feel the way I do when I’m with her. No other girl makes me laugh like she does. No other girl’s body feels quite right to hold and kiss. Every time some stupid love song comes on the radio, she’s the only girl I think about. Every other girl I date is just me chasing that feeling of being with my ex, trying to replicate it in some fashion. But it never quite works.

Game advice online revolves 99.9% around how to pick up and sleep with attractive women. But there’s nothing out there on what to do when you find that one particular girl that floods your brain with so much dopamine that your reaction to any other girl is just meh.

But I suppose there really isn’t anything you actually can do. I have to accept that that scar will always be there. I’ll keep chasing the dragon. There are plenty of other girls out there, and any one of them would be lucky to have me grace their lives with my presence. So I know I’ll be just fine.

I just have to learn to live with never again feeling more than just fine.

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Fat or Curvy… or Have I Been in America Too Long?

2012-06-22 By Filed Under: Musings, Sex Leave a Comment

Whoah, it’s been over 3 weeks since my last post on here. It’s funny how quickly time can slip by when you’re not blogging. I’m gonna have to remedy that in the future with more frequent posts. But anyway…

Last week, Roosh Tweeted a link to a blog post entitled Fatkini 2012 asking the question “What’s worse… the pictures or the comments?” For those of you too lazy to click the link, here’s a sample of one of the pictures:
Photobucket

All the comments on her post are a constant stream of calling her “gorgeous”, “beautiful”, etc. Essentially all the stereotypical feel-good comments girls give each other and the over-the-top flattery provided by a girl’s beta orbiters. So yeah, the comments are pretty nauseatingly bad no matter who the girl is.

But I truly and honestly don’t understand Roosh’s perspective on these pictures, especially asking if they’re worse than the comments. In theory, I get the whole “holy shit, fat women shouldn’t wear bikinis or even be seen in public” agenda motivating Roosh’s comment, and I certainly don’t hold that against him. My problem is that my mind simply cannot conceive of this girl being considered “fat”.

Yes, I can see where Roosh is coming from, as this girl isn’t exactly small, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s fat. This might be a rare, legitimate use of using the words “big-boned” or “curvy” to describe her. I’ve met a few girls before in person who legitimately have a larger-than-average bone structure, and it’s always a little weird meeting a girl the same size as me who isn’t fat.

One tell-tale sign and turn-off I look for in fat chicks is a noticeable jiggly flabbiness in her neck, arms, and thighs, along with significant rolls of fatty flesh in her abdomen protruding over the mons pubis. I don’t see any of those signs in this chick. Also absent are any traces of cellulite or stretch marks. With most fat chicks, I can at least imagine what they’d look like if they lost weight, but not so with this girl. She appears to be healthy to me.

In fact, at the risk of being lumped in with her other commentators, I’d even say I would happily and totally wreck every orifice on this girl. And I wouldn’t even feel the slightest bit of shame afterwards. (Though to be fair, I should admit that when I look at her, all I really see are her HUGE BEWBS. And I really, really like HUGE BEWBS. Also, those big, dick-sucking lips.)

Is there some optical illusion at work? The stripes in the bikini drawing my eyes to see an attractive chick? Is the bikini bottom acting as a corset? The devil magic of Photoshop at work in just the right places? Being too distracted by her HUGE BEWBS?

Or have I simply been in America too long? My brain can’t even conceive of this woman being “fat”, and sex with her would make my dick rock hard. Perhaps I’ve built an immune response to the plethora of fat chicks in this country, that I can’t fully recognize one where others in the Manosphere do. I’d love to hear others’ thoughts on this topic.

But maybe this discussion is completely pointless. After all, isn’t the only thing that really matters is that she decisively passes my boner test?

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Body Type is Irrelevant for Game

2012-05-09 By Filed Under: Masculinity, Sex, Uncategorized Leave a Comment

Danger & Play has a short article posted today asking “What Kind of Body Do Women Want?” and initially concludes, rightly so, that “It’s a stupid debate because there is no right answer.” However, with the very next sentence, he proceeds to get it wrong:

There are six right answers. If this chart were measured, from top-left to lower-right, the correct answers would be: 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, and 10.

I’m here to argue that in the image above, there are ten right answers. And not coincidentally, there are ten body types in the image. If your Game is tight enough, it doesn’t matter what body type you have, hot women will still love and fuck you. Peter Griffin once said it best, “Men aren’t fat. Only fat women are fat.” A charismatic personality transcends all body types, from skinny to obese-fat. If she loves your personality, she’ll automatically love your body.

There still seems to be some bias, even in the enlightened Manosphere, about what exactly women are attracted to. Just because men are 95% attracted to looks in women, some men still cling to the notion that a man’s looks are important to women. But no, women are 95% attracted to a man’s personality, confidence, and status. Men, you know that 5% of your attraction to a woman based on things outside looks, like her job or personality? Looks fall in that 5% category for women.

Now, I won’t argue that some men’s body types do have a slight advantage over others. The categories Danger & Play listed would be the ones with an advantage, but those advantages aren’t based on appealing to a woman’s sense of aesthetics. Instead, the men with “attractive” body types generally have more confidence because of a positive self-image. Many obese men are insecure about their excess weight, and it’s this insecurity that makes them fail with women. Muscular men get complimented often on their physique, and naturally these compliments build up the man’s confidence. Meanwhile, skinny twigs of men don’t get complimented on their physique, and thus their self-confidence begins to degrade. Also, the muscular body types don’t get that way by themselves. The men need to work out, and working out increases testosterone. A testosterone boost makes a man just feel manlier, which could be all the guy needs to boost his confidence and become more appealing to women.

Now, I’m not encouraging you to become lazy sloths. Working out is still important for maintaining a healthy lifestyle. And yes, you should be working to gravitate yourself to one of the athletic body types. But for health reasons, not sexual reasons.

And I will admit, some body types have stereotypes associated with them that may make it harder to Game or may necessitate different styles of Game. For example, fat men shouldn’t roll out to a club wearing a white V-neck in anticipation of using the same Game as a man with bulging muscles. And a fat man wearing a World of Warcraft T-shirt is just going to conjure up all sorts of images of “basement-dwelling virgin”. But a fat man wearing a well-tailored suit? Unstoppable.

So if you’re a man who’s concentration camp skinny or Comic Book Guy obese, don’t fret over your looks damaging your sexual market value. If you don’t obsess over your looks, women won’t either. Just dress well to flatter your body, and lock down your Game tighter than a twelve year old. And trust me, that’s what will get women falling all over you.

Don’t believe me? Still maintain being fat would hinder your sex life? Let’s ask this guy:

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No, There Definitely Is Something Wrong With You

2012-05-05 By Filed Under: Sex, Society, Uncategorized Leave a Comment

For my second blog post on here, I was planning on discussing more about my life story and how I got into the Game. But then I decided, to hell with that. I’m just going to jump headfirst into the Manosphere with a fan-favorite topic: bashing feminism.

This recent post on Jezebel titled “For Chrissakes, There Is Nothing Wrong With You: A Dating Manifesto” attracted my attention, as it’s just dying for a response. It’s another one of those feel-good pieces of nonsense proclaiming how all women are beautiful in their own way. I hate to break it to you, ladies, but not all of you are pretty. In fact, many of you are just plain ugly, and the chances of that are higher if you’re one of the fat feminist land-whales who regularly reads Jezebel.

The whole article reads like a butthurt woman who has failed to attract a quality man and is now desperately rationalizing her failure by seeking the support and comfort of other butthurt women who have failed to attract a man. She just can’t grasp the fact that men are primarily attracted to a woman’s looks, and her hamster is desperately spinning to find some other explanation. More than that, she is trying to find a way to excuse herself from having to improve her looks, or really anything about her, to attract a man. Sorry, but arguments that fall under the category of “there’s nothing wrong with me, there’s something wrong with everyone else!” just don’t work.

The simple truth is that if you can’t attract a mate, from a biological and evolutionary standpoint, there is something wrong with you. The entire evolutionary process is dependent upon finding a member of the opposite sex with which to mate, and if you can’t make yourself attractive enough to find a quality mate, you are failing in what evolution is pushing you to do. I freely admit that in my former beta days when I couldn’t attract a girl to save my life, there was indeed something wrong with me. So I set about identifying what I was doing wrong and improving that aspect of my life by learning Game. Why can’t women just freely admit the same? If men aren’t finding you attractive, perhaps you should think about finding a way to improve your looks. If I tried to make the same argument, that women should love me and be begging to sex me up just for being the charmless, needy beta that I was, I would be laughed off the Internet.

But I digress. Let’s go through this article so that I may point and laugh at all that is wrong with it. My comments are in bold.

As modern ladies of marrying age (read: used-up thirty-somethings who have ridden the cock carousel and are now desperately looking for a guy to settle down with before they get much older and hit the wall completely), our trusty inadequacy paradigm has always gone something like this: “I’m too fat for the men I like (What men is that, dear? All the alpha males who make your vagina tingle but won’t have anything to do with you because you’ve allowed yourself to bloat up?).” “I’m too ugly to get married (Yeah, you probably are).” “I’m too old to find a guy (Don’t worry, I’m sure one of those poor betas you friend-zoned a few years ago will still desperately take you now that no other man with options will).”

And that’s just the first sentence. Let’s continue.

So couldn’t we just call bullshit on this entire idea and be, I don’t know, people? People who don’t exist “for” men? (No. As I explained earlier, women exist for men just as much as men exist for women. That’s just how life and biology works. Deal with it.)

…

We have to quit defining ourselves solely in relation to dudes. Like, “I am not me—I am some imaginary man’s imaginary perfect 10, plus 50 extra pounds, minus a 20-inch waist, plus a threatening commitment to feminism, minus any desire to pretend to care about bike polo! That’s me!” No, that’s not you. That is a weird monster you made up to torture yourself. (Or maybe it is you, and your hamster is spinning to convince yourself it’s not. If a man made the corresponding argument, “I am not me–I am some imaginary woman’s imaginary perfect 10, plus 50 times needier, minus any confidence, plus a threatening addiction to World of Warcraft, minus any desire to hold a steady job!”, you’d call him a creepy loser.)

…

Any man who is a person wants to be with a woman who is a person (An ATTRACTIVE person). Attraction isn’t intellectual, it’s involuntary—and if men really only wanted to squirt their penises inside of silent supermodels (they do), then regular people would be extinct. But look to your left. Look to your right. Regular people in the house! (So by your “logic”, you’d be happy being with just a regular man, then? Also, men really, really, really just want to have sex. The hotter the woman, they more they want to have sex with her. But most men aren’t capable of attracting silent supermodels, so they settle for whatever woman consents to letting them put their penises inside her. Unfortunately, most of the time they’re settling for quality similar to your regular, bloated ass. I would bet my life savings that if they actually had the chance to leave your “regular” self for a supermodel, you should consider your ass dumped.)

Fundamentally, men are attracted to the exact same thing in women as women are in men (No, they are not. Men are primarily attracted to looks. Everything else is a far distant second place): Confidence. Self-assuredness. Agency. Knowing who you are. (I don’t give a shit about any of this in a girl if she isn’t pretty. Also, this contradicts the idea of attraction not being intellectual you were saying just a moment ago.) But it gets sticky, because confidence is also the opposite of helplessness, and a lot of men (insecure men) (I noticed your cheap shot at attempting to emasculate the men who disagree with you. It won’t work on me.) need women to be helpless, because helpless people aren’t in charge. (If I have to choose between a girl who’s helpless and your cuntish feminist attitude, I’m choosing helpless. But men don’t want helpless chicks. Men want pretty women who are sweet, pleasant, and feminine. Though I can see how you’d confuse that with being helpless.) And people in charge want to stay in charge. And the people in charge are men. (Thank the Lord Almighty!) (To be clear, I’m talking in broad, sloppy, systemic generalities here—not saying your dad is secretly trafficking lady-slaves from Belarus or something (If my dad was doing that, I’d buy him a beer and give him a high-five). You know what I mean.)

…

All the faux-evolutionary excuses people give for modern beauty ideals (gigantic boobs means more milk for cave-babies! A tiny waist means a bigger uterus!) are garbage. (They’re beauty ideals because those things make most men’s dicks hard. I really don’t care what the evolutionary reasons are. Gigantic boobs and tiny waists make my dick hard. The opposite of small boobs and a large waist does not. That’s all the reason I need.)

…

Here is what I will cop to in terms of our primordial human standards of beauty. To bag an early-man, you probably needed:
1. Most of your limbs.
2. Minimal open sores.
3. A baseline level of health and robustness to be able to care for a child and/or defend it from lions. (Yeah, but I don’t think feminism and female obesity was quite as rampant in prehistoric times as it is now. Hence, a far larger percentage of women would be deemed bangable by that fact alone.)

…

We, as women, go our whole lives believing this lie that all we have to do is to stop being too fat and too flat-chested and too bitchy and too uptight, and then the perfect dude will finally love us forever. (Um, yes, pretty much.) But chasing that stupid phantom doesn’t make us necessary—it makes us disposable. It makes us powerless. Because we’re not people anymore, we’re holes. Miserable, back-stabbing holes. (Golly gee-whiz, what man wouldn’t want to stick around and commit to you with your obviously pleasant disposition?)

There’s this dumb, deathless stereotype that women only chase men who don’t need them (read: rationalizing the womanly desire for aloof alpha males)—but, um, that’s because everyone wants someone who doesn’t need them. Everyone wants someone who doesn’t need anyone! (Alpha males don’t. That’s partly why they’re attractive.) The only people who actually should be helpless are babies, and who wants to fuck a baby? Not me! (Pro tip: If you just yelled “Meeeeee!” and high-fived yourself, call the cops.) (This whole thing is starting to read as angry and incoherent.)

…

But what’s needier than turning your life into one endless Sally Jesse Raphael makeover episode?  What’s more helpless than carving yourself out of some dude’s janky old rib? (Trying to desperately convince the Internet that you don’t need to be attractive to get a man interested in you?) That is the opposite of finding an actual person who might actually love you. So stop it. You are not “too” anything for anyone. Be a person. Hang out with people. Do what you want and you’ll get what you want. (Not necessarily. Ladies, if you eat a tub of ice cream every night, you might be doing what you want, but you certainly won’t get the man that you want.) Giving up on other people’s expectations isn’t settling (So can I give up on women’s expectations that I be confident and hold a decent job and still have them find me attractive?)—it’s demanding what you fucking deserve. (You don’t deserve anything if you’re not going to put in the work to achieve it.)

Working to make yourself attractive to the opposite sex isn’t needy. There is no shame in women conforming to the standards desired by men of being pretty, sweet, and feminine. Competing with others for mating privileges is a normal, natural part of life. Evolution makes competition necessary. Attracting a man is why feminine women wear makeup and stay thin. Attracting a woman is why men do, well, pretty much anything. But being attractive takes work. Ladies, no matter how much you rant on the Internet, you’re never going to attract a quality man if you lay around staying all fat and frumpy and feeling entitled to have an attractive man interested in you without you needing to do anything.

If you’re not going to put in the effort required to attract a quality man, that’s fine. Nobody’s forcing you to. But then don’t bitterly complain when no man finds you attractive.

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