“…Or I’m going to leave”

“…or I’m going to leave”

 

The rare times I hear a sentence with that ending from a woman, it’s been an absolute blessing.

You see weather its some fling, bang-buddy or girlfriend, that type of demand simply doesn’t tie too well with me.

In the west, given the thirst of the common man, they would give in to this demand, but the moment I hear this, I would rather her leave.

Why? Because she’s replaceable. When you’re jugging a harem as well as slaying new skanks on the regular, what’s one naggy, demanding pussy worth to you? Literally nothing. There’s enough action going on with girls and life that this kind of immaterial nuisance needs to be discarded.

Whenever you’re offered an ultimatum like that the damage is already done. You give in and you’re a cucked loser whom the girl will lose a ton of respect for, simply for caving in. If you let her go, she’ll either come running back to apologise for her lapse in judgment or she’ll disappear. Both of which are wins. If she comes back, she’s got the same alignment in values and same vision as you, and if she disappears, it saves you time from a drama-queen that doesn’t fit into your life anyway.

For any guy whose used to lifestyle of abundance this comes as no surprised, but try telling this to the average Melbourne guy, it simply doesn’t bode with them. The pussified upbringing that this generation is going to face will have some pretty big consequences in this facet of their lives.

 

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Melbourne: The Killer of Inspiration

I was out with a couple of friends in Lan Kwai Fong whilst on a business trip. I heard some Australian accents at the bar we were at and came across some students from The University of Melbourne, undergrads who were still attending University. Still naive as ever, and careerist as ever. They introduced themselves and were curious about how life is like for someone outside of Australia. I was frank and told them everything I knew, eventually they started telling me about what life in Melbourne is like (Not that I really care).

Inevitably, the whole Gay Marriage issue came up and their constant uttering of excessive positive words had me thinking how much the environment has influenced them. You see, some things, deny it all you like, people will feel a natural urge of discomfort or disgust towards. That is simply human nature, you cannot change something that is inherent in humans. So what does a leftopia nation do? It conditions the people so heavily to make something that people feel repulsed towards seem “awesome”. The fakeness and over-emphasis of how amazing “Gay culture”, “Gay clubbing” and every other leftist ideology indicated to me that deep inside that’s probably not how they truly felt, but given their environment they are shamed and ostracized for not caving into the pressures of these notions. Back say 10 years ago, you probably could still say you opposed Gay Marriage or being more picky on migrants is a good idea, but nope, not anymore.

Indeed, it’s a free country, but free if you agree with the leftist agenda. The social shaming (and also criminal charges) that would come for truly saying what you believe in is way too big of a risk to face when discussing anything of this nature.

When you come to accept that the belief systems, values and culture of a place so different to your own, you simply don’t want to contribute to it anymore. It makes me sick to the stomach knowing that my taxes would go towards a mail vote for a progressive ideology, and so, you leave. You leave behind a damaged society to live in a place that is more “traditional” or closely aligns with your values.

And so, I come back to visit and notice nothing has changed. Things only seem to be worse.

The traffic is heavier, the safety is worse, the amount of de-generate migrants increasing, homo-levels through the roof, leftism at new peaks, nothing, literally nothing has improved.

The people I know here are slugging it out and paying their taxes, funding the cleverest uses of money ever.

The ones that had interests and ambitions to do something great, they faded. They settled for a dull suburban existence consisting of hours of sitting in traffic weekly, coupled with long commutes to anywhere with a sign of life.

The rest dug into their careers to numb themselves of their placid existence in place marred with drudgery.

I think of the insane times, the joys, the lows, the experiences that came from leaving this place behind and they were…. breathtaking. It’s something you simply cannot get in a place where you are implicitly encouraged to be part of the mediocre herd of sheep.

Here, people will spend hours sucking up to their boss and working late to get nothing in return.
In cities of significance, on one night out you can come across someone innocuously that could give you some of the best connections you can possibly make.

So while you’re rushing to get off work, only to sit in peak hour traffic or squash yourself into a peak hour train carriage, maybe think about the bigger picture. It isn’t easy especially if you’ve been unfortunate enough to be brainwashed into thinking this existence is “acceptable”, but just try.

Liberal Diversity Extreme

Untitled

‘Cause you know.. everyone’s partner is black. 

Discussing Old Flames

How do you discuss old flames and exes with your current girl?

I was in London to bring in the new year and a friend brought it up to me..

Imagine you are on a second or third date with a girl. The topic of exes is finally raised. You
start talking about your relationship history briefly, not too in-depth, obviously. I’ll mention Lisa,
say I screwed up and she pushed me away, and that it took me a while to get over it, but when I
did, I reached out to be friends and she shunned me. I won’t be bitter when I say this. Do I not
look like a perfect gentleman and the type of person she wouldn’t mind having for an ex someday?
Studies show that girls judge you based on how you speak about your ex. If I can show that I
think generally neutral things about Lisa, and that I behaved like a good person during it all,
it makes me look innitely better than someone who is bitter, jealous, or worse yet, a complete
ass hole. “We broke up and I was like fuck that bitch I’m never talking to her again” doesn’t make
you look good in a new girl’s eyes.

Your general premise, that you should come on looking like a good guy, requires special tact. You can
demonstrate your gentlemanly demeanour in many other ways, but priority in speaking of exes should be to affirm that you have had good relationships in the past, but carry no drama or baggage. Regardless of the reality, when you mention that a past girlfriend shunned you as both a lover and a friend, girls will interpret this as you being a loser who is probably not over his ex, NOT as a nice gentleman. We both know this is unfair and not true, but that is the reality of how girls think. Of course I completely agree that if any type of bitterness seeps out towards an ex, that also gives off a “baggage” and “spiteful asshole” vibe. So my standard strategy is, if she brings up exes too soon I’ll just crack a joke like “I had to break up with my last girlfriend because she wasn’t rich enough.” One joke is enough because after a few dates it will seem like you are hiding something. When you have to seriously broach the subject, its best to remain vague about details, and you absolutely do not have to lie. For example, Sara dumped me. I do not explicitly say this. I say “I had a serious girlfriend in college but we broke up because long-distance relationships don’t work. Its tough to be hours away from someone you care about. Plus I hate talking on the phone”. Girls rarely press further, its almost rude for them to ask “who dumped who?”. Complete full disclosure is not your best move.
Just by not talking shit about exes, you come out looking good. Also note that any admission that a girl flat out rejected you is not likely to be met with open legs or an open heart, doesn’t matter if your goal is a one night stand or a one life stand. You can look like a good guy without looking like you got punked.
You never shit talk an ex to another girl. When people hear a relationship conflict, they instinctively take the side of their sex. Telling a story about how much of a bitch your ex is will make you look bad, not her.
Also: Only show new girls pictures where your ex looks hot. If a girl thinks your ex is hotter than her, it will raise up that anxiety.

Modern Values

Following on from this post

 

Freedom

“Some birds weren’t meant to be caged, their feathers are just too bright”

As I see the drudgery of the rainbow filled, hyper liberal, psuedo-equalist lives my companions back in Melbourne live today. Here is something I like to show them.

I’m going to tell you what freedom is not. Freedom is not having burdens or responsibilities. It’s not having a job you must go to. It’s not having a girlfriend who is expecting you to call, or having a standing date with friends where your absence must be explained with an elaborate excuse. It is not having to give some type of prolonged notice to terminate a contract or job. It is not owning so many possessions that you need a storage unit. It is not having a wallet full of so many cards that your life turns upside down when you lose it.

I’m reminded of my freedom when I’m on a bus to another city. All my possessions, my summer and winter clothes, my dress clothes and two extra pairs of shoes, are in the undercarriage riding along with me. No one knows where I am, and no one cares. I’m going to a city I’ve never seen before as a stranger, with no obligations to see anything or visit anyone. I have no worries, no bills, and no tasks. I’m reclining on an old chair, but I might as well be floating above the street, with no string wrapped around my neck pulling me back to where I was. I could die on the autostrada, in between villages whose names I don’t know and which are not announced with pleasant signs, and it would take several days for anyone who knows me to find out. Or my bags could go missing and within a couple weeks I could easily have the contents replaced. This is freedom.

I wouldn’t trade these bus rides, of having to answer to no one, for all the money in the world or for all the women in the world. I lay back, close my eyes, and let my thoughts and dreams go wherever they want, with no stress or anxiety disturbing them. There is no rush and there is no hurry. I am free. The whole world can demand something of me and I can laugh them off. My own government can take all my money from my bank accounts but they can’t find me on this bus.

Maybe I will stay a while in my destination or maybe I won’t. Maybe I will invent a new identity with the locals I meet or maybe I’ll be me. Maybe I will get laid or maybe I will work. Maybe I will take a tram or maybe I will walk. I was not free when I lived beyond my means, when I depended on the income that the man would grace me with every two Fridays. But I started to spend less than my earnings, and over the course of years it has given me my freedom. The only person I have to answer to is myself. I can vanish tomorrow, and nothing will happen. If I never check my email, never answer my phone, if I just disappear—I’ll do just fine. If you can’t simply close your eyes, and say goodbye to the world, you are not free.

 

“Whenever I want”

I was sitting by the hotel bar the other night after dinner and an expired hag approached me. Flirtatious in her approach, and overly direct, I was a little taken back by the effort from her part. Given I had literally had my needs met by a much younger, tighter and hotter girl earlier in the day, I had no intention of taking her up on her advances. The expired cougar was from Melbourne, of all places. I killed time and then as I was about to leave back to my room, she mentioned how much she wanted to go back there with me. I made up some generic excuse and she dropped the line which I simply cannot stand.

I can get laid whenever I want

Whenever a girl says this, it turns me off so much.

In this era, any, I mean ANY girl with a smart phone and a vagina can get banged out at a moments notice. The way biology works means that there will be a horde of thirsty guys willing to dump their care free fucks into a wet hole without any commitment. It’s no achievement, so framing it like one just disgusts me to the maximum proportions. I’ve noticed this line is dropped usually by the lower tier girls anyway, expired cougars, chubby skanks, ugly whores, the ones that feel validation from getting banged out. A girl who is actually hot probably won’t feel the need to say this, she can attain the highest quality of man, not just meaningless quantities.

 

How Long Is Too Long?

How long is too long to stay in the dating market?

The chief reason for the emotional unease and psychological unpredictability of the vast number of contemporary females and to a lesser degree, current males exist in in the unattainable pressure between our antique natural tradition and the relatively fresh development of the technological drifting world of unmatched mate choice we now occupy. 

It would be a certain shock to the majority of current generation beings to passage back in time and observe how humans lived a more tribal existence. Women getting married in their mid-teens and giving birth only a matter of years later were the norm.  There are still some cultures living in this manner as of today. However, the majority of the western population live a contrasting lifestyle whereby family formation is habitually delayed until the mid-30s, if at all.

One significance of this new architype is the ridiculous amount of years consumed in the dating circuit.

Women are intended by nature to begin reproduction in their early to mid-20s.  Their danger of miscarriage or foetal irregularities only seem to increase year on year after that and radically so after the age of 35.  Her body initiates to wear down which affects how much dynamism she can dedicate to raising her spawn.  If she is unable to discover an appropriate mate by her late 20s she will begin to notice that those influential feelings of passion she felt for crushes in her youth, flawlessly formed by evolution to convey a man and woman together to reproduce, now seem subdued and muddled.  This in-turn will sap the dating experience of the finest elements it has going for it – namely, the impulsiveness, the elation, the powerful drive to connect – and leave behind a carcass of the emotion that more closely resembles bargaining over a commercial deal or suffering through a boring interview.  Overthinking substitutes lust.

It is an embittering realization.

Men haven’t been excluded from this change.  In the times gone before us, a man exercised his hard earned-social proofing and material wealth into courting that one special sweet heard over the peak mating years in his lifespan. Before the existence of birth-control, there was an age when the first cherry-popping raw dogged blast inside a woman often lead to conception followed by decades of parenthood. This meant that for men, there was obviously a limit on just how many female sex partners the average man could accrue in a lifetime.  The laborious involvement in winning over and keeping the best quality woman, he could afford and then providing for their kids soon thereafter meant that serial dating was not a typical feature of life.  Dating dozens of diverse women annually and jumping arbitrarily in and out of mini-relationships is a characteristic of modern life for which men are not adjusted to.  The energy obligation is vast.  Men have altered to this demanding cycle of meet-attract-close-keep by either settling and marrying the first girl that would have them or by toughening themselves against the decision of women and learning to play the numbers game.

The Sex and The City lifestyle which adds glamour to playing musical man chairs is a stark contrast to our male ancestors who were often locked out of any future matings when a pickup attempt went crooked and the target or cockblock would run and tell the whole tribe what a loser he is.  Today, the proximity of exes has very little influence on possible future conquests.  For men, this has bought them almost limitless opportunity to get laid.  For women, this has mugged them of one of their most potent weapons in ensuring that only the fittest males get access to their vaginas — the contemptuous ostracization of their sexual rejection.

On the flipside, men have lost assurance in the fidelity of their chosen partners while women have attained an unstigmatized sexual freedom allowing them to play the field until in their eyes, the perfect man finally arrives to sweep them off their feet.

What a time we live in..

The Peak

I was sitting on the New York Metro on my summer trip to America where I overheard two guys talking. One seemed like a corporate professional and the other are more creative type. The conversation was pretty interesting and goes something like this:

Corporate Guy (Guy 1): “It really blows being a young guy going into college these days, it’s implied to them that Gays and Tranny’s are superior, girls are snowflakes and men are just rapists and sperm donors”

Artsy Guy (Guy 2): “I think a young guy being gay is the easy way out, you’re seen as cool and you have so much of a support network built around you to assist you. That’s something no straight guy would get, we are like public enemy number 1”

1: *Laughs* “Instead we are rapists and misogynists!”

2: “It’s a rough deal for any young guy in his late teens, I mean by that age, you’re probably still looking like a boy, not built and haven’t developed your style or charm fully”

1: “Well.. girls at that age have already been riding dick for a few years also so they expect a ton from guys their age which guys simply won’t be able to deliver”

2: “Compare an 18 year old guy to an 18 year old girl, The girl has probably a couple dozen sexual partners and isn’t going to get much hotter than what she is, she’s almost at her peak.  The guy is probably nowhere near as mentally developed about women  as they are about men and has a few years to hone himself into something”

1: “Yeah little wonder why most normal girls prefer guys older than them”

2: “Remember that girl Dom used to bang, she was like 19 or 20, and he was 30, she used to bitch to him about the dudes she met at College and how much they sucked, and then Dom just laid her out and treated her like shit but she just came back for more to avoid being stuck around frat dudes all day”

1: “Having a son at that age would suck, dropping them hard truths on how girls are skanks and not what they seem, it would shatter the kid”

2: “Hah, well I had no one to tell me so…

1: “Isn’t that why you lost your virginity last week? Haha”

2: “Having a mentor or someone to guide you is way better than not knowing at all”

1: “Yeah, that I agree with”

I sat there listening to this while on my trip uptown and was amazed how many bitter truths were spat out on just a regular subway ride. Looks like guys are cluing up, in America of all places.

Creepers

“Creep” is a commonly used word that girls use towards men they are not attracted to.

It’s an everyday occurrence for some men to be labelled “creepy” by desirable women. Recently, I had a reverse experience of this towards a thirsty woman to whom I didn’t find attractive.

I was approached at a busy nightclub in the downtown nightlife area of the city I reside in. I can’t remember what she said but it was very forward, naturally I was a little surprised as she wasn’t bad looking but seemed a little awkward. Her constant questioning, awkward mumbles, unaligned tone in her voice, it just seemed a bit off. We exchanged contact information and I eventually forgot about her over the coming weeks.

Fast forward a month or so, she messages me out of the blue with some random opener about the weekend (As so many guys do with their “restart texts”). At this stage I had actually forgotten how weird she was, I got a few raunchy pics of her after asking and thought to myself “hmm, why had I written this one off again?”.

We agreed to meet, near my pad.

Then as we met at the nearby venue, it came back to me as to why I had pushed the “next” button with this one. The weird questions, creepy conversation topics (stuff like sex with demons, dead bodies etc) just put me off. Anyhow, she made up some excuse to come back to my place (guys do this all the time, I was so wasted by this stage that I forgot what it was). Before we enter my place, she takes a photo of the letterbox, street sign, house number and so on. Again, weird…

She walks around my place and analyses it is some sacred museum. Eventually, we get to action, and she examines my body like I am some kind of patient in a hospital where she is the doctor. I smashed her but I honestly just felt like it was the most regrettable waste of time ever. I would have had more fun reading a book or just doing something else than wasting those few hours with some useless bint nearby even though she spread her legs.

She offered to come over many times in the past but I simply couldn’t bring myself to have that organism around me again.

Given the age of false rape accusations, I decided not to block her but after a while the spontaneous messages out of the blue (eg. stuff like random research articles which have been debunked) just begun to piss me off.

I thought to myself, yeah… I bet girls deal with this a lot more than guys..

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