Circles

I’ve been reading a lot of Stephane Hemon’s stuff lately and what he talks about is similar to what I’ve been mulling over in my head and heart lately. I believe the circle is my next step in life. To do this, I’ll have to become totally comfortable with the idea of loss, because to reach this level you can’t be hobbled by risk aversion or ego protection.

Here’s a video of him with his three girls. His “primary” girlfriend is on the far right.

I could do without his focus on chakras and metaphysics, as that offends my rational mind, but his core understanding of women and their natures is solid. The psychobabble stuff is just prettified words for biological processes. You can’t argue with results, and maintaining a loving harem of cute girls is proof his skills are unassailable.

Here are a couple of points he makes in his writings which I feel are packed with wisdom:

“[You want to stay in your zone. A good metaphor would be] your circle of girls are playing under the oak tree.”

“If you are single, dating casually, or in a long-term relationship, keep on reading because every single interaction that you have with an attractive woman is, in fact, A RELATIONSHIP. You guys are relat-ing with each other, it’s just a matter of degree.”

That last point is critical. No longer will I draw such bright lines between friendships, dating, flings, and relationships. My new way of thinking is that every inspiring girl I meet is already in a relationship with me – we are already relating sexually and emotionally — and my male energy won’t be held in check by socially approved categories. This is love consciousness.

But of course there is still biological reality and it wouldn’t be very Roissy of me to neglect to point out that Stephane’s main girlfriend (the one he met and fell in love with first) is the cutest of the three. Perhaps the Ego of Jealousy is not so easily transcended.

Girls Like Squeezable Things

At the EU Embassy tour in DC last weekend me and another aficionado of European girls culture picked up these very squeezable red balls at the Austrian embassy.

give it a good freudian squeeze ladies.

Despite getting much grief from parties who shall remain anonymous who believe that carrying around touristy crap is a very white people thing to do, I held and caressed my ball all day and never let it out of my sight. I also had a mini flag in my back pocket, and an official looking EU post-it notepad. I felt worldly and it showed in my international-style strut.

Later on, we were at the Reef roof deck enjoying mussels and fries (three random black guys had ordered the same meal. I had no idea mussels were the new hip food) when Roosh put his red ball on the bar. A girl leaned into our group and asked him about the ball.

“Why do you have a ball?”
“Because it’s mine.”
“Can I hold your ball?”
“No, it’s my ball.”

She looked at him with that slack-jawed half-grin that girls get when they’re a little bit offended but they like it. A few more words were exchanged and she left our group. One minute later she leaned back in, reached her arm across the bar, and grabbed his ball. She held it up triumphantly.

“I got it!”
“Give me back my ball. You’re not allowed to touch it.”

She relinquished the ball with a look of sexual attraction on her face. Her male friend apologized for her. Beta.

This got me thinking about props to bring to bars that would help spark flirtatious conversation. Random items that make no sense whatsoever in a bar context and are made of a material that tempts girls to stroke and squeeze them would work best. For instance, I have an Adidas runners pullover with thumbholes in the sleeves that I wear out to clubs which is not the most stylish looking yet I get girls coming up to me to feel the silky Rayon material all the time. Texture can be just as effective as the look of what you wear because girls perceive the world with all their senses equally while guys mostly use their eyes and penis.

Along these lines, I thought of the following knickknacks to carry with me and place on bars while I drink my beer:

pink teddy bear
cotton balls
nerf football
silly putty
bubble-pack
stuffed bunny rabbit
chia pet
silicone implant
pad and pen (not squeezable, but this works!)
silk scarf
play-doh
giant dustball
a rubber hot dog

Any girl who squeezes or strokes right away is likely to be sexually uninhibited, cutting my workload in half.

Beta Of The Year Award: Husband Takes Wife’s Name

One of the telltale signs of the escalating emasculation of mainstream American culture has been the trend of wives keeping their maiden names, either in whole or in ridiculous hyphenation. And then selfishly passing on this matronymic abomination to their children. Men relinquish so much autonomy and prerogative to pursue their natural male desires when they get married that it’s the ultimate insult to their dignity to have to throw back the one measly bone of their wives taking their family name. The maiden married name racket is like the ultimate shit test — accede to your wife’s feminist posturing and you will be tarred with the beta brush every day of your life you are married to her.

The irony is that the maiden name is the wife’s father’s name. When a woman keeps her last name in marriage, she’s keeping another man’s name, just not her husband’s. Even women with three generations worth of hyphenated last names are hauling around the history of the male ancestors in their families. The patriarchy that these “enlightened” women are supposedly fighting against lives on.

Which brings us to the first ever Beta Of The Year Award.

Check out this guy who sued the state of California to take his wife’s surname in marriage.

All Michael Buday wanted to do was take the last name of his wife, Diana Bijon, when they married.

But it took two years, a lawsuit alleging sex discrimination and a change in California law before he picked up his new drivers license in the name of Michael Bijon on Monday.

“It was personal. I feel much closer to (Diana’s) father than I do mine. She asked me to take her name and I thought it would be very simple. I never imagined the state would make it so difficult,” Michael Bijon, 31, told reporters.

This guy wins the coveted BOTY trophy (the trophy is a man tucking his junk between his legs). What a bravura performance! Take a curtsy, King Of All Betas.

Look how proud he is of his self-castration:

she fucks him with her clit.

And what does this champion of women’s lib do for a living?

After months of frustration, the Los Angeles computer programmer and his ER nurse wife Diana, 29, took their problem to the American Civil Liberties Union of Southern California.

He may look alpha but it’s the inside nerd that counts. He must feel so grateful for getting laid. I wonder how many other conditions he had to abide before she consented to marry him?

“Women have fought for so long for equal rights and it feels like this is part of that fight,” said Diana Bijon.

Blah blah fucking blah. Could you imagine being shackled for life to this shrike? Last thing any man wants in a wife is an ideological axe grinder.

“I am really, really proud of him. Not many men would do this,” she said.

That’s true. Not many men would do that. Good thing you married a quisling bitchboy. Prep the divorce papers.

“This disposes of the rule in California that the male surname is the marital name to the same trash bin where dowries were once tossed out,” said Mark Rosenbaum, legal director of the Southern California chapter of the ACLU.

When future generations of dysfunctional feral kids in a post-apocalyptic third-worldicized USA ask why men stopped getting married and the institution fell into utter disrepute you can point them to quotes like this. Something these self-appointed commissars of culture never seem to grasp: You have to make marriage an attractive alternative for MEN — not women — if you want the institution to thrive.

Here’s the deal: If your wife truly loves you as the rock solid man you are, and not the beaten down betaboy she imagines she wants, she’ll be happy to take your name because she’ll understand and appreciate how much you sacrifice as a man when getting married. If she’s not on board with the name change, then like a ballcutting canary in the coal mine warning you of danger you can bet you’ll be begging for sex once a month.

In a second interview soon to be published, King Of All Betas had this to say:

- he will pee sitting so that he can identify with the urinary oppression of women.
- his dog will be named “Cat”.
- he will wear pink ribbons and march in every women’s rights parade in the country and donate thousands of dollars to every women’s cause under the sun. Then he will be diagnosed with prostate cancer.
- he will give any future sons girl’s names and his daughters boy’s names. He will force his son to play with Barbies and teach his five year old daughter safe sex.
- he will wear an empathy belly when his wife is pregnant. Shit, he’ll wear it when she’s constipated.
- he will ask permission to cum. He will then say “Are you sure?” each time permission is granted. He will say “Sorry” when he gets a little on the bedsheet. He will beg forgiveness if it hits her in the face.
- his wife likes golden showers. He is the mouth toilet.
- he will apologize for walking in on his wife fucking me.
- I will tell him to shut up and make me a sammich.
- when she inevitably divorces his beta ass he’ll cry so hard that he hyperventilates himself to death.

The only reason this guy isn’t demoted to omega status is because he managed to get married, and to a decently attractive woman. But he’s a great example of how you can’t judge male betaness primarily by looks like you can judge female betaness. If you showed me pictures of two random men and asked me to guess which of the two was the beta and all I knew about them was that one was ugly and the other was a good-looking computer programmer who took his wife’s name in marriage, I’d choose the programmer as the more likely candidate for betaness.

Recap

Don’t get married.
If you do, insist your wife takes your name.
If she refuses, don’t marry her. She failed the litmus test.
Better yet, just don’t get married.

Shaming Girls For Their Bad Choices

These guys were talking to a couple of women at Marvin when an attractive third girl who was a friend of the women showed up. I walked over to occupy chat up the friend and our conversation was good. She was flirty, fun and all smiles. We talked for maybe ten minutes when I felt a meaty hand grip my forearm hard. I looked in the direction of the grip and saw an inebriated man giving me the drunk stink eye.

“Yo dude, take your fucking hand off my arm.”

He removed his hand. I turned back to the girl. Three seconds later his hand was back on my forearm.

“What did I say?” I grabbed his arm and pushed it off. He grunted and was about to put it back on when the girl intervened.

“Stop! Sorry, he gets like this. He’s drunk right now and can get very protective.”

“I see. So this is your boyfriend?” She was slapping his hand away like a mom would an insolent child.

“We’ve been dating a little while. I met him through the internet.” Figuring out why she would divulge that critical detail, I looked over and saw Douchebag Extraordinaire half sliding off his barstool and making another flailing attempt to grab my arm. He was a stocky guy, definitely not a herb, but his drunkenness meant slow reaction times. I was not worried if it came to blows.

I only felt superficial anger toward this guy. He was an insecure tool, but tools are a feature of the universe, like dark matter. They’re all over, and you learn to deal with them like you deal with the weather. My real contempt was for the girl for brazenly flirting with me in front of her date without telling me she was taken, and for dating such a loser. I never allow myself to be the guy that girls get their validation kicks from in plain view of their low self-esteem trigger happy boyfriends.

As I’m watching this go down, she kept repeating “I’m really sorry” but in that perky way that makes you think she’s not FEELING as sorry as she should. I turned back to her with a cold stare, making sure she understood that my problem was with her. “I’m done talking with you.” I pointed at her internet date. “Get this part of your life handled before you think about talking to guys like me again.” I walked off.

Taking a girl instantly from the high of flirty banter to the low of icy scorn lets her know her shit won’t fly with you. Social disapproval in the form of ostracization is a heat-seeking missile that aims straight at the thermal exhaust port of women, and if enough men had the balls to make an attractive girl pay a price for her stupid bar games and her bad choices in dates she might, over time, improve her behavior.

I’m not holding my breath.

PDA Is Beta

Philosophically I’m very anti-PDA even though because of my higher than average sexual energy it’s hard for me to keep my paws off a girl I like, no matter how public or family-oriented the venue. I like to squeeze, knead, and fondle, and sometimes I don’t have the patience to wait until we get home.

If you observe alphas with their dates or girlfriends you’ll notice they almost never do PDA. Usually they’re the ones leaning back, keeping their hands to themselves, looking around their environment, while their women are always darting in for a kiss or putting an arm around a waist. An alpha gives the impression of tolerating his woman’s public affections like a shark tolerates a remora fish cleaning it off. And their women secretly like it this way.

The guys who are all over their girlfriends in public — and I mean all over in the nuzzling, cuddling, pucker mouth kisses way, not the slap-her-ass-hard way — are nearly always betas who are happy to have a girl in their lives and can’t help but express their gratitude. When you hardly ever eat, you feast like a pig at the trough and gorge yourself not knowing when your next meal is coming. This, of course, is self-defeating because it kills the girl’s attraction.

I had a friend who would bury his head in his girlfriend’s lap and stick his ass up in the air like a cat having its back stroked. Beta to the core.

For the first time in my life, I got kicked out of a venue for excessive PDA. It was a bar/bowling alley that caters to yuppies. Despite the fact that there were no nuns, closeted Congressmen, old people, or children present, and the only people who could see me were a few couples having drinks and lounging on couches, the management of this place in downtown DC disapproved of my romantic tonguedowns and ass cuppings. My sexual aura radiates powerfully and must be kept hidden from public exposure where it can do no harm.

Quality Vs Quantity Pussy

The best way to explain the tradeoff between chasing lots of pussy and pursuing the best pussy is in graphical form. First we’ll look at quality.

The pleasure axis measures the stimulation you feel from banging her and just generally looking at her naked. As you can see, the pleasure curve for quality pussy is exponential. Jumping from a 7 to an 8 adds more units of stimulating pleasure to the experience than jumping from a 6 to a 7 would add. Any girls 4 and lower and you’ll hardly notice the difference in pleasure — it’ll all just be wet holes and darkness and stopwatches and running out while she’s in the bathroom. The penis icons drive the point home even better. At a girl rating of 5, you’re chubbing out in anticipation of sex. Anticipating sex with a 7.5 gives you a full hard-on. When there’s a 10 in your bed, your dick is so hard it’s sprouted Wolverine claws. Perfect for female lawyers!

Now we’ll take a look at quantity.

 

The pleasure curve for quantity is different than the quality pleasure curve because there are diminishing returns to pleasure past a certain number of notches. Variety is its own reward until the effort expended exceeds the rewards gained. The effort required to bed 10,000 women is so immense, assuming you’re not a Wilt Chamberlain caliber alpha male, that any marginal increase in stimulation barely registers. You’re spending all your manly energy on the chase instead of the fucking. Your dick won’t be able to distinguish and enjoy the subtleties of individual women after about 5,000 — you’re lost in a sea of vagina at that point, and dehydrating fast.

There is a sweet spot, though. The curve really begins an upward trajectory of rising pleasure around 50 women and takes off until the penis is happiest in the 200 to 500 range, depending on your tightness of game and multitasking ability. You’ll want to shoot for a number somewhere in that range in order to maximize your joy on earth and minimize your regrets in old age.

Where does this leave the battle of quantity versus quality? In a perfect universe, we wouldn’t have to choose — the ultimate pleasure for men is 10,000 10s. But since only the tiniest fraction of super alphas can pull off that feat, we have to be realistic and take effort into account. If you were to superimpose the two graphs you’d see that the quantity curve near the point of diminishing marginal pleasure bisects the quality curve at around the 8.5 rating. This means that, if the effort required were the same, the pleasure received from bedding 100 average girls for one night apiece is equivalent to the pleasure of steady sex from one 8.5.

Of course, the effort required is not the same. Putting in overtime for 20 ugly chicks is gonna feel like shit compared to working half as much for one 7 or 8. But putting in equal effort for 20 8s will be worth more than sex with one 9.

The goal for the discriminating hedonist man whose time and energy is valuable should be 200-500 notches over his lifetime in the 5-8 range (allowing for the occasional dumpster dive), and steady girlfriends on the upper end of the rating scale.

Any guy who claims to have game but picks up hundreds of circus freaks a year will be a laughingstock. And the boastful guy with few notches who claims to know everything about women because he’s been dating his cute high school sweetheart his whole life will similarly be mocked.

DC Madam Dead

Police believe it’s her body. Notes of goodbye cruel world were found nearby. That sound you heard was a collective sigh of relief from Capitol Hill.

So what’s the over under on suicide holding up as the official cause of death?

Relationships Kill Sex

The longer a woman is in a relationship, the less often she wants sex.

A woman’s sex drive begins to plummet once she is in a secure relationship, according to research.

Researchers from Germany found that four years into a relationship, less than half of 30-year-old women wanted regular sex.

Conversely, the team found a man’s libido remained the same regardless of how long he had been in a relationship.

This is great justification for men to either keep a harem with high turnover, or to be serially monogamous with a few unjaded mistresses on the side. If you include a woman’s sex drive as a variable, her shelf life in a relationship is even shorter than her remaining years of youth would indicate.

They found 60% of 30-year-old women wanted sex “often” at the beginning of a relationship, but within four years of the relationship this figure fell to under 50%, and after 20 years it dropped to about 20%.

In contrast, they found the proportion of men wanting regular sex remained at between 60-80%, regardless of how long they had been in a relationship.

This proves that men were designed by the forces of natural selection to seek out new willing partners every few years. I think the concubines would be OK with this arrangement as long as the harem keeper continued to financially, if not emotionally, provide for the aging mothers of his children. In polygamous societies, the discarded older wives get their emotional nourishment from gossiping with each other and collectively raising the children. People would be surprised how effortlessly most women could fall into a polygamist arrangement, given the right social environment. Their uncontrollable lust for alpha males would be unquenchable were it not for artificial cultural boundaries.

He said: “For men, a good reason their sexual motivation to remain constant would be to guard against being cuckolded by another male.”

But women, he said, have evolved to have a high sex drive when they are initially in a relationship in order to form a “pair bond” with their partner.

But, once this bond is sealed a woman’s sexual appetite declines, he added.

Goddamn the market for sexbots will be huge.

Lesson for men: Start prowling around the first time your girlfriend or wife says she has a headache. It’s only going to get worse.

“The rational for why a woman’s sex drive declines may be down to supply and demand. If something is in infinite supply, the perceived value would drop.”

Myth shattered: The bonds of long-lasting love in a committed relationship make for better (read: more frequent) sex.

I suppose couples could go the kinky route to reinvigorate their moribund sex lives, but that reeks of desperation. Nothing says “I want to fuck you” like prepping with a chest full of leather masks and mechanical gadgets. The woman’s naked body should be enough to get the man hard.

They could also not have children. I bet that would keep the flames burning a few extra years. Or they could follow the Roissy recommendation and give the man room to stray. A man getting fresh vagina on the side is a happier husband for his frigid wife.

This has been yet another after school special shattering popular myths brought to you by me, your envoy of strife, hate, and gleeful cruelty.

Qualifying Her

What are two truisms of seduction?

That women want to feel like they are valued for more than their looks.

and

That women want to earn a man’s interest.

This is what the whole idea of qualifying women is based upon. By demonstrating to a woman that she must meet your standards which go beyond how she looks you indirectly communicate that

a. you have discerning taste

b. you are a challenge to be won

c. you can be both a and b because you have choice in women.

One way to demonstrate you have standards is by asking her questions designed to put her on the defensive. These are not open-ended “getting to know you” type questions like “what’s your favorite movie?”. They’re more incisive than that. The answer you want from her is implied in the question you ask, so she’ll feel obligated to win your approval by answering the right way. Once the pickup ball starts rolling in this direction, the power dynamic begins to shift away from her and to you.

Following is a short list of effective qualifying questions that will let the girl know you are a choosy man. Timing is everything. Use them after you have gotten indications that she is attracted to you, usually 10 to 15 minutes after you’ve opened her if your game was tight. She will feel no reason to qualify herself to you if she isn’t already interested.

1. Can you cook?
2. Do you give good backrubs?
3. Are you a good kisser?
4. Do you do much traveling?
5. Are you rich?
6. Are you smart?
7. Are you the jealous type?
8. Is there more to you than just your looks?
9. Are you low, medium, or high maintenance?
10. Have you ever given a dollar to a homeless guy when no one else was watching?

Don’t be afraid to express some disappointment if she doesn’t answer your question in a way that pleases you. Let the disappointment show on your face. Don’t make a huge production out of it; a deflated “oh, i see” or “that’s too bad” will work just fine. If she quickly tries to correct the wrong impression she left with you then you’ll know she sees you as someone worthy of pleasing. She’ll be in chase mode, which is where girls WANT to be despite what they may claim to the contrary. (Older washed-up women, don’t bother contradicting what I say. You have forgotten what it’s like to be a young woman.)

Qualification questions can also be framed in the form of statements. Saying any of the following in the course of a conversation, sometimes with a half-serious grin to blunt the impact, subtly projects that you are the one to impress, not the other way around.

1. You better still look hot when you get older.
2. I’m not interested in [XYZ].
3. You get points for that.
4. I’m gonna change the subject now.
5. I don’t know if I can be with a girl who likes to [XYZ].

In my experience, most men forget to qualify the girls they date. Their inner game is so geared toward trying to impress her that they never even think to turn the tables and interview HER for the job. When women go on dates, they are interviewing the guys, whether they admit this or not. The way to defeat her at her own game is not to accept her terms of engagement at all. Instead, flip the script. Use her weapons of courtship against her. When she tries to qualify you, brush off her attempts like you would dismiss a bratty little kid trying to goad you into a dare. The posture to adopt is amused mastery of everyone around you.

After you’ve built up a store of experience with women, you’ll start to have real standards that they must meet. Your choosiness will no longer be an artifact of game but a core component of who you are as a man. Having standards that include more than how she looks will make you very attractive to women, because it subconsciously telegraphs that you are not so stricken by beauty like an inexperienced man that you would abandon your other criteria. When you can walk away from dates out of true conviction rather than tactical advantage your inner game will be like heart of lion.

My Personal Pickup Openers

A while ago, I brainstormed a list of indirect openers and conversation starters to use for cold approaches. Some of these are Roissy originals, some are reworkings of popular openers already in circulation in the pickup community. For a time, I actually kept this as a cheat sheet in my back pocket to assist during those rare moments my mind was a complete blank and I could think of nothing to say. I would guess I use “canned” openers on 10% of my approaches. I prefer situational openers, where I jive about whatever happens to be going on around us. But sometimes canned material is very helpful to ease the way for you to get out of a slump or as a temporary substitute for weak natural game.

Note: These are NOT “pickup lines”. They won’t make a girl automatically attracted to you, and they aren’t examples of direct game. They’re simply interesting or amusing things to talk about that get girls intrigued and invested in a conversation with you. They also raise your value by making you sound more interesting to girls than 99% of guys out there.

Most of the ones below fall under the category of opinion opener, which I’ve found are more effective as something you say right after you’ve broken the ice with a casual greeting.

The best way to use these lines is to anchor them to a back story, otherwise you risk sounding creepy if you crash a set blurting them out machine gun style. For instance, I might say “My buddy over there just broke up with his girlfriend and I’ve been spending the night consoling him. She was just way too jealous of him. Do you think guys or girls get jealous more easily?”

***

1. How would you react if your boyfriend gave you an ultimatum?

2. Why do girls check out other girls more than they check out guys?

3. There are people who analyze walks and can tell what mood you’re in, what you’re thinking, and even what you do for a living.

- great for steering a conversation in many different directions.

4. You look like the type who would date a starving artist, but marry a doctor.

- this one has been very good to me because it is part opener, part neg.

5. Let’s say you were dating this guy for a while, fell in love with him, and found out months later that he was broke. Would you break up with him?

- also one of my favorites. anything that hints at the core nature of women elicits strong reactions.

6. Were you nervous the first time you tried on a bikini? My buddy said he was nervous when he first tried on a suit. -OR- My ex said she was nervous the first time she wore 5 inch stiletto heels.

- a conversation builder like this is highly context dependent. use with caution.

7. There was a study done recently that said that beautiful couples have more daughters and nerdy couples have more sons. Would you say your parents were beautiful or nerdy?

8. Who can keep a secret longer — guys or girls?

- simple. direct. easy to remember. make sure to anchor it if this is your opener.

9. Are the best lovers made or born?

- not recommended as an opener. better as banter material.

10. You guys are in the power position. Yeah, tight circle, backs to everyone, like a football huddle. No guy is gonna get through your defenses. But how would you stand if one of you… let’s say her (motion toward your target)… really wanted to be approached by a cool guy?

- if you like to approach sets boldly, this one is for you.

11. If a guy needs to buy some stylish clothes is it better for him to take along a girlfriend or a girl buddy for fashion tips? What about a gay friend?

12. Who has better fashion sense — girls or gay guys?

- any mention of the word “gay” is like the all-purpose social lubricant.

13. You look like the type of girl who would leave a club if another girl was wearing the same shirt.

- this one is a risky opener gambit. use on stuck up chicks who need to be brought down off their pedestals they have constructed on the backs of fawning betas.

14. I’ve read that men get more jealous from sexual infidelity and women get more jealous from love infidelity. Which one bothers you more?

- better in low key environments with smarter prospects. drunk club sluts won’t get what you’re saying.

15. Do you guys believe in reincarnation? If it were true, what kind of person do you think you’d be in your next life? You (point at potential cockblock)… you look like you’d be a CEO in your next life… and you (point at target), a ballet geek!

- now THIS is good for the clubs. it’s an opener that lets you yell above the noise, and it contains one of those key words - reincarnation - that instantly pricks a girl’s attention.

BONUS

This one is not an original by me but I have used it with great results. It’s an example of direct game.

You: [striding confidently into the set] Do you know why you girls suck?
Girls: [looking at each other incredulously, but expectantly]
You: Because I’ve been standing over there for ten minutes and you haven’t come over to say Hi. I mean, I can tell you’d like to, you keep giving me the eye.

***

Try these at your leisure. Anyone scoring a lay off them will be written about in a later post on my blog, and your deeds will be sung by the bards for generations.