Desperate times…Desperate Measures…

Online dating… again

Well my life’s pretty shit at the minute. I’m not in a job I hate, I don’t have cancer, I’m not trapped as a wage-slave due to an evil ex-wife, I’m not in a Thai prison… right, yeah, it could be worse. Still… I’m depressed as fuck. All the tell-tale signs are there. The constant fatigue, bingeing, inability to focus, inability to carry out the simplest of tasks. It’s like being a lazy woman.

The root of my problems can be traced to lack of pussy. In a recent post of mine, where I jabbered about inner-game, a very wise potato said:

“My opinion is your core confidence isn’t dependent on external validation, but if you are getting consistently shit (and not improving) feedback from the world you are doing something wrong. Your genes demand you mate, and if you don’t they’ll punish you for it eventually.”

This is true. What’s happened to me is that IT’S JUST TOO LONG since I had any fanny in my life. Very long. So long ago it’s abstract. It’s intangible. Ontop of this it’s so long since I had any real FUN on a regular basis I’m in serious danger of becoming a cynical, miserable cunt. Anyone seen the last episode of South Park?

What happens is after so long without pussy your hindbrain, your reptilian brain, or if you will your genes, start punishing you for not propagating them, for not pursuing your primal urge. Procreate! Chase women!  If you don’t take steps to do so you get more and more miserable and life starts to go wrong. Unfortunately being a miserable cunt isn’t the most helpful of mental states to be in to woo a charming lady for the fuck-slab.

As regular readers or friends will know I’m not working at present and am caring for my pap. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands and my frontbrain knows I could be using this wisely to build up my IT skills and work on entrepreunarial projects with friends. Yet despite my repeated efforts to do so, and all my logical understanding of how good this will be for me, I remain unable to focus or achieve much. The reason for this is the fires down in the engine room don’t produce enough steam anymore. My frontbrain knows the logic and wisdom of doing all these chores and character-building stuff but my good old hindbrain is just plain old sick of being miserable. It wants pleasure. It wants it now. And it will provide fuck all steam to do anything else until it gets it. Poof! I’m dead serious here. I feel like my entire life has run out of steam and I will be unable to do anything at all  until I solve this problem.

Having some mates and doing social stuff would be awesome but the most important thing is getting pussy. I’m confident that if I can aggressively vent a load of salty frustration into some real, living flesh twice a week, even that of a semi-gross mud turtle, it will do me the power of good. Screw the standards, I just need to get my rocks off.

Welcome back to online dating!

I’ve finally managed to scrape enough serotonin together for an evening to prepare and update my profile and send some messages. I think it was eating two tubs of Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream back to back that did it.

My frame is perfect for online dating; I don’t expect much, I don’t take it at all seriously and I don’t give a  fuck. Gone are the days when I’d laboriously read girls’ profiles and craft messages. Bullshit. Women are stupid retards and have zero logic, the only possible way to survive the process is by not giving a shit.

What better system to use than the Jambone Online Game method. This will be described in full in his upcoming eBook from the RSG Press but in brief this is what I did:

• Got myself in a flippant mood and cranked out a profile:

• Did a search and opened up 20 profiles of girls who looked at least a 6. Given that this is the North East this was not as easy as it sounds. 5 were lost due to collateral damage when I realised how fucking gross they were. Yet again the general standard of women in the North is astoundingly low. Shit in fact. I digress..
• Cut and pasted the same subject and message text into each message.

I won’t describe the actual text as women, damn their petty suspicious, grubbing minds, often google these things, but it was pretty irreverent. In fact totally irreverent. Here’s a representative example:

Subject:

Blue cakes don’t fall

Message:

Hey! I noticed you looking at my profile. At least stop and say hello you perv.

I don’t even finish sending all 15 before I get my first reply.

Got more ice-cream to eat and Minecraft to play but will keep you posted.

 

[update]

Nice quote: “celibacy is a living death”

The Odyssey Begins..

I’ve decided to read the whole of Roissy’s blog from start to finish. All 51 months of it. DrunkenBaker has just finished doing so and said it has changed his life.

It really is the best written pickup/gender politics blog out there. Four months down… forty seven to go.

Inner-Game Jabberings

I was at Salsa the other week and I got talking to a cute 20 year old student. No game, just chat. She was nice and our conversation was interesting. SalsaLord kept going on about it over the next day or so and this made me think about it perhaps more than I would have done. Over the next week I started to think about this girl and wonder whether she’d be there again. Aside from the obvious “technical failures” of outcome-dependence, etc what I became aware of was how easily old thought patterns skirted round the edges of my peripheral mind-vision. Once or twice, while idly day dreaming I thought about what it would be like to pull this girl. How it would feel. And subtly the fantasies started to take a tinge of boastfulness. How it would validate me having such a girl. Imagining friends saying “wow!”. Dropping subtle hints about how young my gf was. I wasn’t so much actively thinking about these thoughts but the part of the brain that makes up thoughts and fantasies stamped a few out and offered them up to the central controlling bit as potential fantasies. I rejected them.. but part of my brain had still manufactured a few for perusal.

After some deliberation I decided that

If the price of having this girl was that having her made me feel better about myself then I did not want her.

Pretty hardcore. I was telling my mate Scouser this and he scoffed…

So you only want a girl who makes you feel <= you did before?

I’ve been mulling this one over and ended up going in circles in a philosophical mess so I’ll just splurge it out here and see what happens.

The initial idea was that someone with a truly strong reality wouldn’t need any woman or friend to make him feel good about himself. But assuming this guy had no women, and in fact all women loathed him, and nobody wanted to be his friend, then in fact wouldn’t he be a dick.. someone way too far down the Kenny Powers road of Alphaness?

Ok so in fact if you have the respect and affection of people you respect and like then it’s ok for this to form part of your self esteem. Seems reasonable.

So if you attract women you find attractive then is it ok for this to be a basis of your self esteem? I think it is… actually. So ok then… if you consistently are not attractive to women, and have no women in your life then is this ok to make you feel low self esteem?

Not quite. I think I’ve uncovered the root of a few problems.

I think a lot of people don’t separate out into two distinct boxes a) how they feel about themselves b) how their current life environment is at present.

What’s happened to me for many years of my life is that my ecosystem has been shitty and I’ve simply not had the environment for lots of friends or women. Hey… welcome to modern non-provincial career-life! What then happens is your unchecked hindbrain begins to furiously analyze the situation. It is not a positive situation so depression starts to creep in and you feel like this is a failing of your personality. Your self esteem lowers. The problem is you’re not seperating out the two. It’s possible that you have the most boring, banal situation with a shitty job, a crappy apartment and zero friends, yet this is purely environment. Why should this make you feel anything about your core self? It shouldn’t.

Thinking like this has always been difficult for me and I think a lot of people suffer like this. I think a lot of guys that end up getting into pickup in fact have been through a similar cycle:

1. Have great life at University.
2. Leave.
3. Move to some city for some job.
4. Have no friends.
5. Discover everyone at work is old, married and shit.
6. Work hard. Get tired a lot.
7. Wonder how people meet new people.
8. End up home alone a lot.
9. Time passes.
10. Wonder where you went wrong.
11. Self esteeem lowers. Negative feedback cycle starts.
12. Single and bitter.
13. PUA.
14. Join RSG.

And don’t forget old bastards like me did this stuff in the mid 90’s.. when normal people didn’t use the internet. Like at all.

So in fact.. shock horror… the big discovery is that in fact you can actually be a pretty ok guy and have no friends or women! How’s that for rationalization.

Where were we? Right. So it’s natural and reasonable that having great friends increases your self esteem. It’s natural and reasonable that having great women in your life does likewise. Yet you have to be careful that when you don’t have them you correctly identify if this is to do with your environment or your personality.

So it is in fact quite normal to be happier after hooking up with girl X than before. You have a richer life. More contact. More emotion. More interaction. Sex.

So if I feel lots better about myself because I have a 20 year old hot stripper girlfriend then this is ok, right?

No.

I’m confused again.Let’s start again.

I think I’ve got it this time. I take back everything I just said. I now think it is weakness if you feel much better about yourself for having girl X. Or indeed for having friends Y.

This is how I think it should work:

• You just be yourself and clear as much of the crap off that society puts there as possible. You have your core intellect, personality and values. Stick to them.
• Have faith that in the correct environment you will earn the friendship of people that you’d like to be friends with. Also have faith that if you do some basic stuff and don’t fuck up then you will have attractive women in your life.
• If you don’t get to be friends with X they weren’t right for you. If you don’t get woman Y then they weren’t your type.

If I hooked up with 20 year old salsa girl then would I feel better about myself. The long hard truth is…. probably not. I’d maybe have a few days of euphoria but then it would settle and I’d just fail to see what was so suprising. I’m awesome: she likes me. Logical.

If you find yourself trophying women then I think it’s a sign of weakness. The Beta, low self esteem thoughts that my hindbrain was bandying about are not really congruent now. Call them echoes from the past.

FAQ
1) So it is weak to be pleased that you get a young, hot girl?
No. Attraction to youth and looks are wired into your DNA. It’s natural. Don’t fight it.
2) So is it weak that I am happier after hooking up than before?
Not necessarily. If it’s for technical reasons i.e. you simply have more fun now, then that’s ok. If you feel like having this girl plugs some kind of hole or forms a strut in your self esteem then yes, you are weak.
3) If I start thinking about girl X a lot is this weak?
Not necessarily. Maybe she’s really nice. It’s normal to think about her. It’ll be counter-productive, but it doesn’t neccesarily show weak character. However if you find yourself running elaborate scenarios about her, and visualising yourself feeling awesome and puffed up and boastful, and smug about having her… congratulations, you have a hole in your self esteem.

***************************************

So the real measure is happiness versus self esteem. If having girl makes you happier: fine. If it supports your self esteem: weak.

Ah… but what about serious relationships? Where people get married and stuff. I’d argue that the same thing holds. You’re a lot happier because you met your wife, your life is better, you’re in love with her, but it shouldn’t be a foundation of your self esteem. Seriously. You should be happy as hell you’re with her. You should love your life but I genuinely think the fact she chose you should not form a strut of your self esteem. It happens all the time, though, and I’d like to suggest that for a lot of people falling in love is when they find someone who is the right shape to plug the holes in their psyche. I’ve seen it many times before. It ends badly.

The Fertility/Resources Paradigm

An interest in Game can quite quickly lead to a deep fasincation with evolution and anthropology. And cavemen. I’ve bought this and have high hopes:

I met Skeletor a while back and he taught me a simple model with which to look at gender dynamics. It was pretty useful and I now like to construct similar ones and enjoy looking at society through them. Here’s a basic one:

Fertility vs Resources

A friend wrote to me recently that he was deliriously happy as he was dating an early 20’s, good-looking Taiwanese waitress who adores sex.

This is DrunkenBaker. Bilingual. A very high IQ. A writer, actor, comedian, a social animal, a success in his chose career field. And he’s ecstatically happy at bagging a waitress. Fair do’s I say. Nowt wrong with that. Be pretty unusual the other way round, though, wouldn’t it? Cavemen, food, resources, offspring… blah blah blah… it’s all pretty obvious isn’t it.

A maudlin friend once emailed me and said “is this our fate? Exceptional men can only expect average women?”.

Yes, if you rate women on status and mastery. I’ll break down what you can expect:

• exceptional men get average women
• average men get awful women
• exceptional women get a lifetime of unfulfillment

Have a look round at the couples you know and see how happy the ones with two stars in the relationship are. Not very. I personally know multiple couples who have less than harmonic relationships because their aims and energies are too similar. For most of my life I lamented that there weren’t enough smart women for me to get one. I thank Game that I now see this folly. I shudder at the cheese of even mentioning this. Sorry in advance. I can’t believe I’m doing it, but honestly, really… this is so apt:

Relationships work best with a mix of talents and abilities. Hell, humans were evolved to be highly specialized and genetically designed to have different but complimentary skills…. “We have evolved into fixed gender roles so that mutually dependent men and women can specialise in skill sets and attributes that combine to create a strong family unit“. If you’re a super-smart, high-achieving, alpha guy I’d suggest that perhaps getting a similar woman is not neccesary for happiness. Think of a motorbike and sidecar. You do the powering forward, make the bucks, write the books, make the big decisions and your little co-pilot keeps things running smoothly. Actually a better analogy is an X-wing with an R2D2 sitting in the back of it, keeping the engines running as you barrel down the Death Star’s equatorial trench, bleeping sweet bleeps of reassurance into your earpiece.

Let me hammer this home. An X-wing with no R2D2 is not much of an X-wing. You’re designed by nature to hook up, love and protect a woman. It’s in your DNA. One of the core purposes of an alpha males life is to have a mate, raise a family and protect and provide for them and others. At some point this bit seems to have got chopped off the PUA model.

So when my friend said “exceptional men get average women” he was shortsighted. He’s judging women by male standards of status and mastery. Judge women by female standards instead and you will see that what you call “average” women are often not so. Women have wildly different feminine energies in this modern age. Some of them are stunted, awful creatures, ruined by feminism and a system which lies to them. Others are wonderful, bright, smart, sensitive and empathetic. Don’t rate women by their job, their income or their problem-solving logic. Don’t be a dick.

A Mars a day helps you work rest and play

I’ve definitely reached a high-level stage with my inner game. I now really give such little-a-fuck about what anyone I don’t care about thinks or does. It’s exquisite. I feel like my loaf is getting pretty close to being baked. I’m almost finished. I feel filled with an inhuman strength, glowing with a static charge which can repel enemy lasers. My reality is so strong birds arc up around me as they fly overhead. I don’t read any game-theory anymore. I have no interest whatsoever in the community. I believe 90% of people involved in game are cunts. I continue with this blog because writing is good for me and it provides the impetus to do so. I think I’ve made the Sho’nuff leap or if not am at least in mid-flight.

I haven’t been “on the LSS” for months now. It’s a cesspit: a barrel of rats eating each others faeces to survive.

Here’s a little experiment for your inner game:

1. Spend thirty minutes, yes a whole 30:00 on the LSS.
2. Assess how it affected your inner game.
3. Wait a while.
4. Go somewhere quiet. Put on headphones. Close your eyes and really concentrate. Now listen to this. This is your warm up: Your aim is to build up towards the point at 04:24. At this point imagine you are the Death Star. I don’t mean working on the Death Star. I mean literally the Death Star. A sentient Death Star. You don’t need the little clones and humans scurrying about inside of you, but you tolerate them. You are Jalaxowil, you are a god of metal and power. You are a massive orb of metal, as big as a small moon, miles across. You float through space and when you a see a nice, juicy little planet you like you float alongside it. A hatch as big as Wales opens on your side and you unfurl your Death-Club. It’s a gargantuan metallic member eight hundred miles long. It slowly telescopes out and stiffens. Then you slam it into that little planet good and hard. This is about 07:00. That’s when you ram it in. You fuck that planet.
5. Take a minute or so break to sit in silence and be at one with your thoughts.
6. Now listen to this:As you do so imagine you are a knight in full plate armour mounted on horseback, surrounded by your compatriots, charging through a damp, mist-filled forest.. you can hear the explosive crack of damp twigs underfoot, the thud of the horses hooves, the whinnies, you grasp your hand tighter on the hilt of your broadsword.. there are shapes in the mist up ahead, there are shouts, you stand up in your stirrups as you thunder down on the figure ahead, bringing the sword down with all your might (about 01:38). The melee begins. You are filled with righteous fury. The sorceror will be vanquished.
7. Assess how listening to both of these pieces of music, total time around 12 minutes, affected your state and your inner game. Compare to your thirty minutes on the LSS.

Any lessons learned?

I am the conqueror of worlds. Give me your women. Carmina Burana is the soundtrack to my life.

What happened to Assanova?

On a whim tonight I decided to check Assanova’s blog to see his latest article on why working on game is pointless and you should just be good looking instead. It appears his blog is gone.

Assanova holds the incredibly rare position of being one of the few people who has my respect. He writes beautifully, intelligently and lucidly. He cuts through a lot of the shit about game. His books are excellent: lean, mean, stripped to the core and authentic.

Of late, however, it does seem like he went a bit odd and got obsessed with essentially writing the same post over and over again, rewording it each time, that post being, as I said, that game is a waste of time and that you should just work on your looks. I don’t agree with this at all: Krauser and Jambone are living proof ugly men can pull hot women. I saw Assanova’s picture in his books; his problem is he’s too good looking. He’s hot. Plus he’s black and he’s super-smart, which makes him a lot more desirable than the black guys just blacking it up to pull white chicks. I guess if you just pull birds from your looks you would end up thinking this was the be-all and end-all. He should live a month with my big potato-head and see the difference game can make to women’s reactions.

So… where is he? Maybe he’s had enough. Fair do’s. The game community is fucked and weird anyway. Good luck to him. I hope he’s happy.

Nerdy superheroes prepare to go out..

Aeons ago I saw this and thought it was the funniest video ever:

But soon after this usurped it:

(I originally saw both on weird French funny videos site http://www.gougoule.com, a goldmine of insane videos for your idiot 24 year old Estonian-target Facebook-chat game)

And today I watched this and literally cried with laughter:

Status Update

It’s been a long time since I’ve written much on this blog. I’ve recently lost interest but feel I’ve suffered from it; writing this blog so far has been a great way to organize my thoughts and make me more centered.

What’s happened recently to “Fifty Sets of Challenge” and what’s happened to me? Well I’ve left London, and may not return for the forseeable future. Nope, the police didn’t catch up with me for all the kiddy-rapes, thank God, but my dad suddenely deteriorated quite severly with his Alzheimer’s disease and his partner could not longer cope alone caring for him. She needed immediate help in looking after him day to day plus me and my sister needed to start looking for care homes and begin transitioning him into one; a difficult process which requires one of us to be here for a few months at least. Given that I was ‘between contracts’ and my sister wasn’t I decided it made more sense for me to go back up north than it did her. So I packed a bag and went to King’s Cross.  Boom! Just like that. All decided within an afternoon. I’ll be back with a van to collect my stuff.

So “Fifty Sets of Challenge” dies and I can’t see myself doing any game for the near future and I’m essentially working as an unwaged carer in a socially deprived part of the country. I may still leave the Fifty Sets of Challenge page up and in the future log any approaches I happen to do, whether that be one a month or one a year. It’ll be interesting to clock them up irrespective of overall duration.

My situation is good in a way though. Give me a minute. After listening to Anthony Robbins’ “Get the Edge” course (a truly phenomenal product which changed my life) I now make a determined effort to see the positive in everything. I reframe. I can’t see how negative thinking in any situation provides any benefit whatsoever, ever. Honestly. Think that one through.

Here’s my reframe:

• It’s not until I left London that I realised how much I despised it. I am now not in London. I live in a large, pleasant apartment with my own car. It’s an area which is far safer, cleaner and convenient than London and all the scum are our scum. British scum. Scum that we, the British created and which we have a shared cultural heritage with.
• I was struggling with the job hunt and it was proving extremely stressful. My last few jobs have been ones where the ratio of exportable skills to role-specific skills has been firmly tilted in the employer’s favour, plus managing offshore teams for several years has meant my technical skills, plus my confidence levels have nose dived. While job hunting I was massively stressed, and was frantically trying to swot up on years of missed material in the space of a few weeks in order to blag it through an interview.  Not only that, once I got the position the stress would only get higher as I had to continue to blag my way along, probably frantically hitting the books each night to bring myself up to speed. Ontop of that let’s not forget that as a contractor you are the tar-baby of the project. All of the project management incompetence: ridiculous timelines, inadequate employees, unreasonable requirements, they’re all dumped on the head of the poor contractor who walks in the door ready to soak it up. This is stress I really don’t need. Especially given my father’s situation. In fact I decided it’s stress I can’t handle right now.

It’s gone! I quit my job hunt. And now I feel like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. Living up in the North I can retrain myself at my own speed and leisure.

• ..Thus I don’t have to get up each morning and go to work each day doing a job I hate, surrounded by tossers and becoming increasingly stressed.
• Living up North I am in proximity to my friend Mr T. Mr T inspires me to live life less ordinary and to be more entrepreneurial. He has a great idea for an I.T. project and I’ve decided to get involved. Not only does it have legs and might go somewhere but I can use it as a less boring way of skilling myself back up.
• I’m less lonely up North. I spend a lot of time with my dad and his partner and this is more companionship than I had in London, where I was looking at ways to try and engineer a social circle.
• And most importantly: I get to spend time with my dad when he needs it the most. You only get one chance to do the right thing and I’m doing it.

I’m certain I made the right choice. If I’d landed a contract I’d only have had to quit it so thank God my job hunt so far was unsuccessful. The thought of being stuck in some high-stress IT job in London while all this is going on doesn’t bear thinking about. Thank God I have some options; a flat which I own and just enough money put away so that I simply don’t have to work for a while, years if I want to, and I don’t have to worry about it. So here I am, living in a nice apartment in a peaceful street next to a park, I have a nice little car and can drive everywhere. I don’t have to work for a living and am slowly skilling myself up for the time when I see fit to do so again. As well as that I am involved in an exciting project with a close friend, which is a dream scenario for me. I don’t have to work… which is fucking great (for a while). I’d recommend it to anyone. Obviously the situation with my dad is awful but it can’t be helped and I thank God that I can be here to deal with it.

I see myself being up here six months at least. Once paps is in a care home I still want to be here so I can visit him daily and spend time with him while he still knows who I am. It’s a compromise: I can’t stay up here forever; I need to get on with my life, but on the other hand I need to give him some time. Six months feels about right. This will give him time plus give me plenty of time to reskill and do some work on this project with Mr T. After this I really have no desire to return to London, it’s a shit-hole. I think I may move straight to asia. I currently have the rough date of 1^st October in my head as the day I get on a plane. And I plan two or three months travelling then move to Singapore, settle down and get on with the rest of my life.

…Which will involve fucking hordes of asian women and having an awesome social life.

Kenny Powers

Kenny Powers lives his life to a soundtrack. When most people wake up in the morning they wake up scared of the world and only half convinced they want to engage with life. When’s the last time you woke up feeling great? When Kenny Powers wakes up he has this playing in his head:

00:06  Kenny Powers wakes up.

00:12  Kenny rubs his eyes

00:22  He crawls out of bed

00:28  He stands up

00:32  Stretches into a yawn

00:35  He opens his eyes.

And the exact thought in his head is this:

“FUCK YES! I’m Kenny Powers.

World: you’re still you.

I WIN.”

Kenny Powers loves being Kenny Powers. It’s what he was born to be. Kenny Powers loves life. He loves living life. He lives in the moment. He goes out and takes. He makes the world his bitch.

Who is Kenny Powers?

Lurking on your favourite P2P network is an extrordinary American TV series. It documents the life of Kenny Powers, one of the rare few Alpha male characters to grace our screens in this era of smart, sassy female characters outdoing their slow-witted male counterparts. In fact I believe the only reason this got made was because the character is so extreme that the Feminist Mind Police probably believed it was a grotesque, and mocked the antiquated, selfish Alpha male and how irrelevant he was to modern society.

Well well. Will Ferrell and Adam McKay have pulled the wool over your eyes, Mind-Police, and what we are left with is a true Alpha male gracing our screens. Kenny acts with pure male intent in everything he does. How refreshing. How many characters in movies and TV shows actually do this? Do they not always have the female perspective injected into them. Is their maleness, their boldness, their drive not always a precursor to a realisation that negotiation and compromise results in a more effective solution?

Male = drive, determination, courage, confidence, excellence

Female = discussion, negotiation, compromise, mundaneness

Did men drive wagons across mountain ranges with this attitude? Did the great captains of industry lay train tracks across Britain with a single drop of doubt in their determination? Their essence was masculine. Their drive absolute. They acted with passion and aggression and determination. And so does Kenny. He also takes drugs, gets in fights and screws a lot. He doesn’t need to look at the values of others to work out what he should feel.

Male and female perspectives are a model through which to view the world. Take one of these lenses and look around you. If you look at the legal, social and cultural trends of our society you’ll see a very blatant, deliberate and prolonged, multi-decade attack on masculinity. Look at your own lives. Look at your own jobs. Think about your meetings at work. Think about the people you work with. Think about the opinions of the people you know. Compromise, discussion, procrastination, passivity, vindictiveness and incompetence are rife. Drive, determination, logic and a joy in creation and accomplishment are lacking.

What we have with Kenny Powers is what is so rare on TV these days. We have a male character undiluted by female traits. We have an expression of masculinity. An Alpha male. As well as that the series itself seems to be a massive “fuck you” to the femo-nazis controlling our cultural output. On how many TV series would this exchange occur:

(Kenny to some teachers)

“I don’t know if I should mention this but I just saw two teenage boys raping a six year old girl”

(teachers)WHAT!!!!

(Kenny) Ha! Only joking.

It’s vulgar. There’s drug use, profanity, sex and a pair of big-ass tits.

I suggest you obtain this series, watch and learn.

Kenny and Game

Faggots watch “Californication” and think Hank Moody is the be-all and end-all. He’s not. He’s a girlie man who couldn’t put up a shelf properly and who’d get raped in prison. Well… quicker than most at least. Kenny Powers shits bigger than him. Kenny can teach us a lot about game. Alright bitches, let’s break it down.

1) Kenny has an enormously strong reality. His perception of the world never falters and other people slowly bend into his gravitational field like tiny asteroids. He lives in his own version of reality and is totally, genuinely unconcerned with other people’s or with social norms. This makes him massively attractive and feminine women gravitate to him and any other male less than Alpha himself Betas himself to him. He understands the power of this reality and the effect it can have on people.

2) Kenny’s self belief is absolute. He has chosen to believe in himself and the switch has fused long ago. Listen to this lecture by Alan Watt:

And read this article by Krauser

The essence of each is that you can simply one day say “fuck it”, make the leap of faith that you are awesome and live your life according to this precept. Kenny made this leap when he popped out of the womb.

“in this word there’s two kinds of people: tricks and hustlers. You know what the difference between them is? The hustlers show themselves the right kind of movies in their head” [Pimp, Iceberg Slim]

3) Kenny is not apologetic about himself. He’s an absolute. He lacks modesty, that almost useless personality trait which is simply great people lowering their own esteem to make the jealous less envious. Kenny listens to his own motivational tapes. Why wouldn’t he? They’re obviously the best motivational tapes in the world. Kenny records his thoughts. Why wouldn’t he? They’re obviously gold-dust.

4) Kenny is not afraid of life or of the world. His aim in life is to “make the world his bitch”.  Kenny can appreciate the moment. He has awakened his senses. He isn’t lost in a daydream; he’s in the here and now. He’s fully present. He regards life a as a chocolate box, full of awesome experiences for him to sample. He doesn’t worry about the future and shit; life is a game and it is to be played aggressively.

5) The key thing to remember about Kenny, the thing which saves him from being a tragically deluded stooge is the fact that he actually is special. He has a gift. It’s not fantasy. He’s unique. As well as having a gift he’s long ago worked out the first rule of the Manifesto and accepted to himself that he is special. Ontop of this he’s worked out the second rule as well and he realizes that his goal in life is to pursue his gift and his specialness, and anything else he does merely takes him further away from this and from his destiny. He has a strong sense of entitlement. He knows what he is and he knows what the world owes him.

6) Kenny knows what his core beliefs are and he lives his life by them. Even if he has to play baseball in Mexico he’ll do it: better than not pursuing his dream in some bullshit job somewhere else. When it comes to women he knows what he likes:

“i’ll admit, that sweet tailpipe of yours did have me charmed, it put a spell on me, but all the ass magic in mexico can’t change kenny powers from his core beliefs. im a tit man, i like big ass boobs: now and forever. I’m not like a black guy.”

7) Kenny has absolute sexual assurance. He understands that women are attracted to him. Why wouldn’t they be? It’s unshakeable. It simply is. He’s Kenny Powers; therefore hot women want him. Period. Kenny has no shame or embarassment regarding his sexual intent. He desires beauty but is unfazed by it. He pursues it but does not supplicate to it. He negs women. He has high standards. He has multiple sexual partners.

8 ) Kenny understands the importance of male grooming. He likes to look good. He looks snappy. Like a lion he cultivates his mane.

9) Kenny is disgusted by Betas. They collapse immediately into his reality and he dominates them effortlessly. They idolize them as he shit-tests and cuckolds them. Despite this he realizes that Betas are often necessary to keep “low-level shit” running smoothly so he tolerates them when necessary.

10) The last thing Kenny teaches us about Alphaness is the most poignant. Kenny is lonely. He has few friends. He can’t relate to Betas and the few strong men he meets inevitably challenge him. Women are women. It’s lonely at the top but this is the price he is willing to pay.

What’s the most important attribute? Number 2. That’s it. It’s flicking the switch onto total self belief and fusing it there. Achieving this is spectacular in anyone, and those who’ve managed to do this emit an aura which draws people to them. They are carrying the magic torch. They’ve managed to pull it off. We all want it yet hardly any of us can get it. We’re all riven with doubt. When we run into people who’ve managed to do this we are in awe of them. It’s pure Soul-Crack.

DreamChink Update

Let’s recap. I opened her on Oxford Street a few days before Christmas and I had my first instant date with her. It went brilliantly and there was attraction.

After xmas I follow it up and arrange dinner and drinks.

Date 1

A good night. It’s fun and relaxed. Over cocktails we have rapport. I’m a bit too much in my head and don’t really know how to escalate so there’s no K-close.

Date 2

We go for a walk and have a pub lunch. Ok. Not much spice.

I then go on holiday. A good few weeks pass. I re-initiate with some text game.

Date 3 (Feb 22nd)

We go bowling. It’s great. We’ve clicked. There’s plenty of kino. We go for food then drinks. It’s on. She lost the bet at bowling so I make her buy all the food and drinks. We can feel it. I verbally sexually escalate a little but am new to this so don’t do it enough. What I do has a little bit of an effect, though. I’m nice and arrogant and funny though. I unintentionally do Intellectual Mastery game and demonstrate total understanding and mastery in her reality. We depart on high spirits. She says she’s had a ‘wonderful’ night. She says that I’m paying on the next date. No K-close but hugs.

Text Game

Friday Feb 25th

I call on the evening and she answers, is pleasant but says she’s busy can she call me back. She doesn’t.

Monday Feb 28th

I text her:

Q: What’s yell0w and doesn’t answer phone calls?

No reply. 2 hours later I reply:

A: a banana.

I find this hilarious and laugh a lot to myself about it.

Tues Mar 1st

I give her a call the next day. She says sorry for not calling, oh actually she’s busy now her landlord’s helping her fix her boiler. Can she call me back? Sigh… ok.

She doesn’t.

This is weird. I know she likes me. I figure that on Date 3 she suddenly realised it was on and that we were going to pair up. Because I didn’t shunt it into ‘lover territory’ with a K-close she’s now been at the mercy of her tiny, confused brain. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s confused so she does what most women do and that’s shut it down and run. Or she starts over-thinking the whole thing and decides she’s not ready for a relationship, etc.

Whatever…. Bitches Be Crazy.

Thurs Mar 3rd

I have a session with Skeletor on that Thursday. He says it’s not over. She probably just wants me to chase her more.

Sunday Mar 6th

I call her Sunday. My my… I have learned some practical chops from game. Pre-game I would have gone in all serious and asked what she wanted, or would have been Beta and asked what I’d done wrong.

Post-Game what I did was as follows…

I call her. Act like nothing’s happened. Am jolly and fluff a lot.

She warms up but then guilts herself and starts some long, rambling story about how she’s cut her foot so can’t leave the house which is why she didn’t call me. Blah blah. It’s ridiculous.

“Is it that I’m too sexy? Are you intimidated by it?”

“Oh MY GOD!” She squeals. “Are you mad? Blah blah. Who told you you are super sexy?”

“Lots of girls did. They get flustered around me because I’m so sexy. Like you do… blah blah”.

She tries to tease me but fails.

I stop macking her and go authentic. “I KNOW you like me” I state honestly and plainly.

There’s a seconds pause and she doesn’t deny it whatsoever, just makes ‘ummm ahhhh’ sounds. I continue

“and I like you. And I know YOU know that I like you”.

More ‘aaaahhhh… ummmm’ sounds.

“and I KNOW we have a great time together. I want to see you again.”. Stated simply and boldly.

She mumbles some gibberish.

“Aahhh Ok… well… but my foot… I’m not sure when I can come out… I will call you when it’s better. Ok? In a few weeks?”.

“No. Not ok”.

[genuinely NOT OK. i’m not waiting for a woman to cal me. boundary reached.]

Stunned silence.

“I’m a MAN. You know I’m a man. A man makes plans. He doesn’t follow a girl’s plans. You KNOW that I can’t accept that plan”.

[utter truth. This is calibrated. If the woman on the end of the line has an IQ anywhere near approaching mine, is a lawyer, doctor, if I see her more of an equal then I don’t have major problems if they genuinely are really busy.]

Stunned weird noises.

“You need to decide if you want to see me. I want to see you. Tuesday or Wednesday evening this week.”

“I’m busy Wednesday. Ok Tuesday”

“Great”

“But Tuesday lunchtime not evening… I don’t want to be back late. Tuesday 1pm?”.

[give and take]

“Ok”.

Tuesday

11:37: Time for you to wake up sleepy..

[running joke about how late she gets up]

12:26: Can u come to leicester square. I m hvinga meeting here. It seems taking longer than I thought. Let s say 1.20pm?!

12:39: No. Don’t be naughty. Come to [the pre-arranged location]. Sms me before u set off… 2pm wld be ok I am with friends too.

[Definitely not ok. In fact my mum would say she was fucking rude and would probably walk round slapping young girls in the face if she knew what shit they pulled. SMS me 20 minutes before meeting time and ask me to come to her. Fuck off.]

[also total lie. i’m not with friends. i’m at home doing a programming test online]

13:24: Maybe another time, I hv to meet a client @ 2.30pm.

[My initial reaction is that I hate her. After a minute this passes. See thoughts below]

14:20: A client? U have a job?

[Zero acknowledgment that she stood me up. I neg her as I know she doesn’t have a job yet]

No further sms.

So…

First assessment. FUCK has my game improved. I told DrunkenBaker this exchange thinking nothing of it at all and he screamed in delight saying it was “unbelievable”. This is just how I roll dog. Getting the girl might be hard for me but I guarantee you even if she’s a 9 I have cast-iron boundaries of what I’ll accept and wont.

Second point. FUCK am I in touch with my intent. My behaviour, I believe, was a lot more alpha than the average chode.

I like this girl. She turns me on and she’s a nice person. We’re very compatible. I KNOW we can date and I KNOW her life will never be the same again regardless of whether we stay together. I know where this girls energy is at, I’ve seen her before, and I know that it’s close to the polar opposite of me and my reality will become her world. I also realise this is pretty intimidating for her.

What’s she doing? Well first off… let’s not forget Burto’s disclaimer:

Bitches Be Crazy.

You never really know what’s going on inside their minds. If men behaved like women you’d pity them and say they were ‘touched’ and special needs.

My best guess is that she’s intimidated by the whole thing. Possibly she wants me to work and chase for it more. Was her SMS of 13:24 a shit test? I think so. Part of me is angry: she agrees to meet me for lunch and allocates me a gap of an hour and a half. That’s assuming she actually did have someone to meet at 2.30. She probably did.

Now my pre-game self would say “Mmmm if she allocates an hour and a half then she doesn’t want this thing to happen as obviously a man would leave the rest of the day free for snogging, hand holding, giggling, etc”.

Wrong wrong wrong. Remember: bitches be crazy. Women do not think in straight lines. The capacity to connect these items together is completely beyond them. Their ability to sabotage their own happiness by their total logistical incompetence is beyond measure.

Man calculation

Meet girl @ 1pm.

Schedule meeting @ 2.30 pm.

2.30 – 1 = 1.5 hrs

Like girl? Yes.

1.5 hours enough to date girl = no.

Total = suggest different time

Woman calculation

Meet guy @1pm

Schedule meeting @ 2.30 pm.

No connection of two items.

Clouds are like cotton wool.

Total = I like to wrap in a blanket on my sofa and watch Gray’s Anatomy.

There’s a good chance that she did in fact decide to prevaricate on the ‘me’ question and filled her week up with stuff. I then force her into action so she allocates me a slot and then her timings get fucked up. Perhaps. Or perhaps she has just changed her mind. The point is you just don’t know. You are not dealing with a logical entity here. I can’t believe they let women fly planes.

How to play it from here

What would a high value guy with options do? He’d leave it and let her stew. At the weekend send some ‘fun’ text game suggesting I’m out doing incredible awesome things and having a great time. Paint a picture of my colourful vibrant world and show lack of concern that she’s not in it. She hopefully will start to get jealous at this.

After X days go past give her an innocuous call or SMS to join me for doing some wild, awesome activity that she can’t help but want to do.

Basically I am 75% sure that once I get this girl in the flesh on a date then it’s going to happen. She probably knows it too. This is the last dance of the courtship navigation.

ANY COMMENTS OR ADVICE ON HOW TO INTERPRET OR PLAY THIS ARE MOST APPRECIATED!