Your Daily Game: Thot Training

When your girl tries to make you jealous, you have four options, in ascending order of personal benefit and relationship management effectiveness:

  1. act butthurt
  2. promptly try to make her jealous
  3. tease her*
  4. ignore her

Act butthurt, defensive, or otherwise emotionally pained, and you can count in hours the time to her dumping you.

Immediately attempting your own jealousy incitement ploy risks seeming ham-fisted and try-hard. She will see through a blatant table-turning maneuver. It’s better to spin your jealousy plotlines when they aren’t kneejerk prompted by her own jealousy provocations. However, a prompt response that may include flirting with another woman is better than an emotional outburst that will tell your girl she has “won” this battle and has you wrapped around her finger.

*I added this choice after commenter Jakius reminded me of it. Of course, teasing is a great response — “hey you may want to try licking your lips next time, your flirting is really bad, needs work” — and it was an oversight on my part to leave it off (in fact, teasing and ignoring are my go-to options whenever a girl tries to make me jealous).

Ignoring her is imo the best response. (I find teasing can be misconstrued by your girl as evidence that she unsettled you, especially if you have trouble teasing with the required amused mastery while in the fog of actual jealousy.) She will seethe with impotence. Acting like you don’t even notice her attempts to stoke your jealousy is a nuclear nonverbal neg. It’ll cause her ploy to completely rebound against her, and she’ll start pressing you for your attention.

You could NEXT her, but that’s a trigger happy response associated with hotheads. Every girl has her moments when she wants to incite an angry possessive passion from her lover. The NEXT option should be saved for chronic manipulators.

Ignoring her is a short term solution for those infrequent moments when your girl lapses into insecurity or entitlement. But a chronic offender needs a stronger corrective. Chronic abusers of the jealousy tactic will need eventual punishment (either leaving her or lowering the boom on her). The boom-lowering option can be accomplished by, in stern but controlled language and in clear terms, telling her to cut the shit or you’ll take your leave. The other boom-lowering corrective is basically Dread Game: a slow burn type of searing instructional that adjusts her behavior incrementally, slowly, but profoundly for the better.

For instance, say your girl tries to make you jealous. The Dread Game option would involve you openly flirting with another girl in view of your gf. If she doesn’t cut it off with the dude she’s flirting with and come shimmying back wondering what you’re up to, get ready to end it with her. (9 out of 10 times, she’ll crack first under the pressure of dueling jealousy plotlines as long as your frame is solid, thick, tight.)

It’s good to instill in your woman the knowledge that you have options and won’t hesitate to use them if she disappoints you, and this can be accomplished many ways but most permanently and effectively through your attitude which should subcommunicate at all times that you aren’t a domesticated eunuch.


Captain Obvious, with the Comment of the Week:

Either pwn thyself, or prepare to be pwned by someone else.

Nice. This spiffy aphorism is the central thesis of relationship management, and really, of all human interaction.

Alpha Male Of The Month

It would have been even funnier if the pilot had released a load of kitty litter on the crowd.

(Via gabber @bombbelt)

Alpha Male Body Language

There’s a lot going on here that adds up to a snapshot of pure alphatude in full display. The easy stride, the ownership arm draped loosely but heavily over her shoulders —

Just hold on loosely
But don’t let go
If you cling too tightly
You’re gonna lose control

— the deliberate avoidance of nuzzling or any soy-laced PDA, the contrapposto pose in motion (check the angle of his right foot), and the “I’m surveying my kingdom” wandering gaze.

Even if you’re an ugly man, you can project an aura of alphaness, and therefore look more attractive to women, if you walk with the insouciant confidence of this fellow here. Every little improvement helps.

Commenter Johnny Redux nails the answer to this post’s title with an ugly truth few men, let alone women, would be willing to confront head on, obliquely, or deniably:

A sexless marriage, in many (if not most) cases, is the result of a man marrying a woman his own age, and after time losing all sexual interest in her as she quickly morphs into an old woman before his eyes, much quicker than he is aging.

Men are maximally attracted to young women.

Men age more slowly than do women. (At least going by outward appearance.)

Men’s sexual worth climbs through their 30s and 40s while women’s sexual worth declines through their 30s and 40s.

Put the three preconditions together, and marriage between “age appropriate” men and women is a recipe for sexlessness, followed by lovelessness, and then finally divorce.

Which is why I advise men, if you’re gonna do something stupid like get married, make sure the deal is as sweet as it can be for you by choosing a younger woman to be your monogamously avowed last fuck. You’ll come to appreciate her extended shelf life when your married buddies are staring down the barrel of a dumpy hausfrau and dreaming of escape. You don’t want to wife up a woman on the wrong side of supple.

PS This post explains the true cause of “mid-life crisis”. The crisis is the rapidly diverging SMV values of the husband and wife. And the cure is trading up, fapping off, or dropping out.

There used to be a “sex positive” feminist who would comment here and offer up such breathtakingly backward Feminist Cunt Wave boilerplate on men and women that I started to appreciate her cuntributions for their usefulness as reminders of the self-medicating delusions that modren society inculcates in the sexual market losers of our age. Whatever she wrote, I would tell readers, take the opposite to be the truth.

She never posted a pic of herself from what I recall, but her comments were written in the unmistakable “aging, fading slut” style, filled with the caustic, slut pride snark which our current crop of pussyhatters think is funny, that belied a life nursing spiteful man-hate. Imagine a Nordic feminist-Jewish feminist recombination, with a touch of commercialist Anglo feminist, seasoned to a sarcastic spiciness by the rapid approach of the Wall, and twisted into a false braggadocio of her receding sexual ensnareline and her ability to manipulate men to do her bidding, and you have a good idea of this woman’s character. I could practically see her stringy blond hair with streaks of gray, and her manjaw strengthened from years of cock gobbling and chewing out pretty subordinates.

In sum, she was a “Swipe Left Broad”, from both sides of the swiping ledger. If Tinder was around then, (not sure if it was), she’d’ve bragged about swiping left on tons of thirsty guys while she herself was the recipient of numerous left swipes.

AnyHO, one time the topic was broached about what to say to a date (or potential mate) inquiring about your sexual history. I had written that men shouldn’t run away from a storied sexual past, because girls are attracted to men who are successful with girls (preselection is a powerful predictive evopsych theory). I also wrote that men should avoid openly bragging about their notches — it would strike any normal girl as try-hard desperation — but instead to couch their personal history of successful womanizing in ambiguous or teasing language. For example,

GIRL: You seem like a player. How many women have you been with?


After my advice, embroiled as it was in a deep understanding and easy acceptance of innate male-female psychosexual differences, landed in the combox, Swipe Left Broad chimed in, acrid spittle nearly flying off the screen, to inform the assembled that her go-to line when a man inquires about her sexual history was:

“I lost count.”

Of course, I was compelled to spear her with the Shiv of Sexual Realism for her steaming feminist dropping, lest innocent girlies ambling into the free fire zone think her hag-words would be helpful to them. Swipe Left Broad didn’t take kindly to my informing her that a skeleton key which opens a lot of locks is more valuable than a slutty lock that can be opened by many rusty keys. ARGLE BARGLE, she replied, paraphrasing. Collecting herself, “Men love an experienced woman!”

No, men don’t “love” an experienced woman. Men may want to fuck an experienced woman, figuring (rightly) that she’d be an easy lay who will put out with a quickness, but men don’t cherish sluts like they do chaste girls with eyes and gines for their cocks only.

The thought occurred to me in the recounting of this tête-á-termagant that the three words “I lost count” crystallize with pithy efficiency the essential, core difference between the sexes. What works spectacularly to increase a man’s perceived SMV — a smirky allusion to his sexual experience — works equally spectacularly to decrease a woman’s perceived SMV. And in the crucible of this rhetorical clarification we see the power of the female ego when confronted with undeniable sexual market truths about her romantic worth to feed at the trough of self-delusion. Giant, gulping swallows of delusion. Deep-throated delusions. Every delusional drop swallowed, and a pearl of delusion whisked from her chin as an apéritif.

The crucial detail — the one that often trips up those accustomed to years of quaffing ego-assuaging platitudes — is the one embodied in the deepest, truest desires of men and women. These desires aren’t the same, and at the critical mate assessment junctures can be said to be contradictory and competing:

Men desire sex, women desire commitment.

Commitment is a euphemism for resources and protection, and love is the feeling women lean on as assurance they have secured a man’s commitment.

Women desire sex and men desire commitment, too, but these are secondary to the primary impulses which guide each sex, and guide them at especially important times, when life-changing choices are carefully deliberated or acted upon impulsively.

Women want an experienced man, and they project this want of theirs onto men who, for their part, want women willing to go all the way right away regardless of experience or, if the woman under carnal consideration is of exceptional beauty and modesty, want her to have a relatively unsullied sexual history and to at least have the sense to avoid bragging about the numbers of past lovers to whom she lays claim. To a man, a woman’s discretion is the better part of her allure.

It’s a self-defeating assumption women make, which they find out the morning after as their latest “conquest” is scurrying out the door, never to call them again.

This is why a slut bragging about her cock count is repulsive to any man with options, and why a pussyhound alluding to his gash and churn past is intriguing to any woman with a working tingle spigot.

There can never be too many pimp slaps administered to traitorous, cowardly Galactic UberPhag LindsGAY GAYham’s slap-able gayface. Tucker backhands Graham a good one, here.

Keep the heat on these cucks. They deserve every publicly humiliating beatdown coming their way until they slink off into the 9th circle hellscape waiting for them where their lies and malignancy and treachery won’t infect America.

The “American Exceptionalism” era of delusion is over; the Blood and Soil America era is beginning (again, as the Founders intended). A great comment from anonymouslee:

I don’t know why we don’t more often point out the absolutely definitive evidence against “muh Constitution” arguments:

the worst shitholes, however you want to choose them from the Soviet Union to the failed states of Africa to the genocidal warmongers of Europe, have fantastic constitutions. Any country you hate, just name it and find a perfectly nice sounding Constitution.

We are a people. The Constitution is something we decided to put on paper to better organize the government which exists to serve us, the nation. Not the other way around.

The Constitution didn’t write us, we wrote the Constitution. (hat tip to Malcolm Little for getting me down to one line)

Something else we should point out is that rhetoric about how people are not really people paves the way for attempts at genocide. No people, no crime. Case closed!

Emphasis mine. The People are the Paper. The Paper is not the People. Change the People, and irrevocably the interpretation of the Paper changes to suit the disposition of the replacement People. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot, cuck, or lying shyster.


On the topic of Realtalk Rebels taking it to the corrupt, sclerotic, anti-White male establishment, here’s a vid of Jordan Peterson shellacking a dumbstruck feminist cunt.

The race by the Chaimstream Media to censor (by commission or omission) and shut down dissident voices is evidence of their fear. Not fear that they’re losing; rather, fear that they have ALREADY LOST and now they’re scrambling to keep the angry mob from tossing them on the spikes lining their gated communities. Institutional Leftoids tamp down so hard on dissident thought criminals because they KNOW that if they lose this war the revenge exacted on them will be epic.


Not entirely OT: The only polling outfit you should trust is Rasmussen. They were closest to accurately calling the 2016 presidential election up to a week before Election Day. The rest of the polls are rigged in any number of ways to artificially boost Trump’s negatives or shrink his favorability numbers. Last I checked, Rasmussen had Trump at 46% favorability. Keep that in mind, because there’s been a daily drumbeat of leftoid media orgs pushing the narrative of Trump’s “historically low favorability” using the same polling outfits that were badly wrong all the way through 2016.

It’s as if the Narrative gatekeepers live in a bubble and don’t think Americans are paying attention to their perfidy and lying scumbaggery.


Speaking of the loathsome and self-discrediting Chaimstream Media, do the screechy mouthpieces employed to safeguard the Narrative have any idea that their hysterical remote psychological diagnoses of Trump’s mental health are ripped straight from the pages of Stalin’s playbook? Our elite have never been more malevolent or historically ignorant. BAD COMBO

After you read this incredibly Millennial news story, you’ll understand why I titled this post “The Voluntarily Sexless Marriage” instead of “The Voluntarily Celibate Marriage”. Our platonically married couple isn’t celibate at all; they’re just celibate for each other.

The sexless marriage is a timeless rue with an explainable kernel of pedestrian truth to it, but at least it can be said for men trapped in age-independent sexless marriages that their woeful predicament wasn’t contractually inked before the vows were exchanged. Not so for Tiffany Trump’s newlywed friends:

When New York socialites Quentin Esme Brown and Peter Cary Peterson got hitched in Las Vegas over the weekend in front of a small group of friends — including Tiffany Trump, who acted as the flower girl — they knew that people would make some assumptions. Either they were madly in love or drunk, right? In reality, the best friends said they were neither. They’re planning to make theirs a sexless, open marriage, they explained, and this actually sounds like a pretty wise idea to relationship experts.

100% of chaimstream media approved “relationship experts” are charlatans.

“Sexless marriage”. An irretrievably broken, anhedonic society at war with the reality of innate sex differences takes the one redeeming feature of marriage and tosses it away.

A sexless marriage is pointless, but a sexless, OPEN marriage is just plain malicious, because those super progressive, feminist friendly polyamorous arrangements never benefit both parties equally; it’s usually the slutty woman getting her rocks off down the hall as her moans of ecstasy drive her incel “partner” crazy with murder-suicide ideation.

“He has always been my soulmate in every sense of the word

Women and men have competing definitions of “soulmate”. Men tend to emphasize the “mate” part of the term.

and we felt mutually that Vegas was the place to finalize our commitment to partnership,” Brown explained on Instagram. “Peter and I are not romantically involved — in fact we are still dating others and will continue to seek love in all forms — we are just each other’s hearts and wish to begin our journey towards evolution, because the more we face reality, the more we can see that there is no right or wrong.”

Poopytalk. They’re doing the opposite of facing reality; they’re hiding from it under cover of Clown World’s Cloak of Inchoateness. If Tiffany Trump’s friends are indicative of Tiffany’s own views, it’s no wonder Papa Trump practically disowned her.

Susan Pease Gadoua, a licensed therapist

Licensed to bilk.

and co-author of The New “I Do,” has yet to meet anyone else with this kind of marriage, but she says it fits in with the way she sees many people deciding to change the rules to suit their relationship needs.

Dope. People aren’t changing the rules to suit their piques; they’re lowering their expectations and adapting to the encroaching jungle.

“We don’t need to get married for any of the reasons we used to,”

Including but not limited to reasons such as reproduction and generational continuity.

Gadoua tells Yahoo Lifestyle. “Once you’ve got everything else in place, it is like the cherry on top.”

But Brown and Peterson don’t seem to have married for children. So why get married at all?

The question with no answer that won’t sound like a try-hard rationalization.

“We did this because we wanted to finalize our commitment to each other as life partners and best friends,” Peterson wrote on Instagram.

What happened to mutually presumed and unspoken loyalty between friends? If you have to rely on the imprimatur of State authorization to declare your shared friendship, you don’t have anything remotely resembling a friendship. Instead, you have a pose. Two attention whores jockeying for social status within their group of unloveable weirdos.

Brown also put a statement on Instagram, saying, “I am confident my husband and I will break some walls down,” she wrote.

If your official terms of endearment preclude fucking, he’s not your husband.


before 1000; Middle English husband(e), Old English hūsbonda master of the house

You haven’t consecrated a house for him to master. You’re two neutered farm animals who happen to be dozing in the same bed of hay and dried manure.

“A lot of these sorts of marriages are in response to society getting increasingly isolated, and people want to create a kinship model. You either have to be married or you have to be blood relatives; otherwise, you can walk away from each other.”

Like I wrote, adaptation to the r-selected jungle.

This kind of union may in fact last longer than a marriage based solely on intense romantic attraction, Gadoua surmises.

Well, sure. Because it isn’t a marriage. It’s a zero-investment masquerade. It’s easy to let a “sexless, open marriage” linger for eternity because the cost of upkeep and dissolution is negligible. No romantic reward, no romantic risk.

The other advantage is that the friends can seek out those romances outside of this relationship. In this way, their setup resembles the kind of polyamorous arrangement that some couples have found to be a better alternative to divorce.

“Some couples” = a few physically and psychologically repulsive losers who can’t hack it in the human sphere where standards still exist.

“Where the complications are going to come in is when people outside their relationship look at it like, ‘I don’t want to get involved in that,’” Gadoua says. “It’s going to make it a little bit more complicated for them to find partners who understand.”

GIRL: hey I’m free for that drink Thursday, but I should tell you I’m married to a great guy, but we never have sex. It’s in our vows.

THE DEVIL’S HARD BARGAIN: fantastic! you sound totally normal. I’m scratching you in now as my third stringer.

Rodman also cautions that this won’t work if one partner isn’t being entirely honest about what he or she wants in this relationship.

“If one person was secretly hoping that this would turn into something romantic or sexual, then that would be quite the disappointment,” she says.

The Voluntarily Sexless Marriage is the next evolution in beta male bait. Watch for hordes of thirsty betas to jump in with both feet hoping a piece of worthless paper has the power to unplug the tingle spigot.

But if we’re to take Brown and Peterson at their word, they’re pretty happy with their decision so far.

“We have one life,” Brown wrote. “Free yourself!”

Combined IQ: 1

Time for a Phys Quiz. The glowing, and strangely tense, lovebirds:

Hm mm mm. So progressive! Tiffany Trump’s friend married her gay bestie. Cameras and Yahoo blog typists are standing by….

PS I was planning to award Peter Peterson both the coveted Beta of the Month and White Male Pussy of the Month titles, but as you can see from the picture above, those titles aren’t applicable.

%d bloggers like this: