Guys, I’ve got to say, Ol’ Whorefinder’s been deep in the dumps as of late.
I’ve noticed a lot of niggerfuckers.
A lot of slutty, trashy women have been way too open about their sluttiness.
A majority of the women I see just seem like so much trash.
And I’ve noticed a lot of cockblocking.
I’ve no desire to dress up and game.
Any solutions? Or pep talks?
Since it was Saturday night, I was hoping someone could pump me back into good-ol’whorefinder rape-the-moment mode.
Many guys have a workout log. For those who are serious about keeping themselves in shape, guys will use the log to record what exercises they did, when, at what weight, how fast they ran, etc. They also record date, time, weight, and whatever other information they think is necessary. They do this so that they can track their progress and note when they start backsliding into bad health; in other words, its done to keep themselves motivated and keep them progressing forward. The better ones also record which exercises or routines are actually bad for progress, and which exercises they absolutely hate to do — the ones that are the most difficult to push through, and thus the ones they either need to eliminate or force themselves to do first.
In addition, many guys in the manosphere have posted “field reports” –posts on game boards and blogs detailing their encounters with women: what worked, what didn’t work, and asking questions of other manospherians on what to do. These are educational, as you get to hear routines and conversations that work or don’t work. Finally, we have RooshV, a game-teacher, who, in his great book Bang (as well as on his websites) talks about how he learned game through years of recording his attempts and his techniques.
All this is to say that, after the gym today, wherein I meticulously logged my workout, I had the revelation that I should be doing the same thing for game: meticulously recording my attempts, breaking each interaction down into its smallest, most logical components. I observed the progress I had made with my body merely by forcing myself to write down when and how I had worked out each time. I’ve done more pullups and heavier squats now, a mere three months after beginning to log, than I ever did before.
This also comes at a time when my game has been terrible. I haven’t had the balls to go and talk to women, as other personal things going on in my life have really gotten me down, and any interaction that I do have with women has been really bad. Low confidence is not a turn on, as any gamesman can tell you (or any female, being honest). A game log would function the same way a gym log would: forcing/motivating me to workout (my game, not my body), to talk to women, to work through this rough period, to show improvement.
So I’ll give a game log a try. And then report back.
I, like many of the manosphere, am a recovering beta. In my time, learning the dark arts and feeling the red pill’s burn, I, like many addicts, have had relapses and backsliding; we all do. They are old, familiar, nay, ingrained patterns of beta-ness, and we are merely struggling mightily to overcome them; sometimes, we fall short. If you’ve ever known an alcoholic, a fat chick working to thinness, or someone with a “manageable” addiction, this will all be familiar to you.
Now, as part of this relapse, I backslid into becoming a “friend” of an attractive girl. My rationalization — a classic addict’s tact — for just staying friends with this girl were numerous:
- I had just come out of a relationship that went very badly (depression)
- we worked together (same field, same company)
- she had a serious boyfriend who was a semi-buddy of mine
- she was flirty/tarty, and I wouldn’t have been able to handle her behavior
- age difference (she was younger)
- I didn’t currently have a female friend around, and someone (another girl) told me I “needed” one
Most of these would be fine reasons to cut off any relationship with a girl other than keeping her as a mere acquaintance. Heck, I would advise anyone that simply working with a girl at your serious job is a valid reason not to hit it and to avoid anything more than a professional demeanor around her.
But that’s not what I did. Instead of refusing to have any relationship with the girl other than co-worker/acquaintance, I decided I would make her my friend. Why? Based on the facts that I was in need of female validation due to depression from my breakup and that I listened to the idiot advice of another girl.
Now I’ve had female friends before, and there are still a few who are “friends” with me, though I haven’t seen them in years and they live far away. But they fell into one of two categories:
- Too fat/ugly to fuck
- Girl’s I’d fucked already
The former category needs no explanation. As to the latter, once the sexual tension was gone, I’d lost a lot of attraction to those girls; yet, in speaking with them, they weren’t complete morons. Generally, these were the libertarian-type girls –one of them actually told me that she’d resolved to sleep with me when I started quoting Milton Friedman. (These girls were down to be fuck-buddies after the fact, natch).
Anyway, I digress. This girl at work — I’ll call her Anna — was definitely attractive. Not overtly so; more of an office 7. Her personality was bubbly and feminine, and she dressed well for her fit, thin, youthful body. She fed my need for female attention while keeping me at arms length. Finally, as a capper, she was from an ethnicity that I’d long desired to bang.
So, with my mind in full denial, I decided I could just be friends with this cutie. Bad move.
One evening, she carelessly broke plans with me — plans I’d been looking forward to all week– because she “didn’t feel like going out.” I got tremendously upset at this and got wildly drunk that evening–and, in my drinking, realized that my emotional response was way over the top to a “friend” situation; I had a full blown crush on this girl while she was getting all the ego benefits of a puppy dog’s love without ever having to pet it.
Fuck, I realized. I was a beta orbiter again.
So I needed to get out of her orbit. The wrinkle was, however, that I couldn’t just cold turkey break it off with her; this is because I dealt with her at work every day, and we had mutual work-acquaintances that were important to my job. Any meanness or coldness could redound against me professionally; unlike, say, Roosh or Captain Capitalism, whose enviable careers allow them the freedom to cut off such emotional vampires, I did not have that luxury. Plus, I felt the guilt of one who invited this problem in — I sought out the friendship with her; thus, I couldn’t be as ruthless as if she had tried to do it to me. I knew better than to let her in.
So below is the plan that I followed to excise this emotional vampire out of my life. I successfully stopped being her beta orbiter without her knowing it–and thus incurring no job-related consequences. Note that we still work together at the office in a friendly, professional way, and never speak of our closer times –but I am not suffering oneitis.
1. Go Sleep With Someone Else
Sounds trite, but it’s true: one of the main reasons I’d fallen back into beta orbiting was because I’d gotten out of good gaming in my relationship. When the relationship went south, I was both heartbroken and completely out of practice. I actually had one sub-5 at a bar–whom I’d weepingly just spilled out the story of my breakup–tell me that I would be great to sleep with once I was over it–then she promptly left the bar and refused to give me her number. Another girl whom I’d engaged in mild text flirting with told me out of nowhere that she’d never sleep with me. Let me tell you, I was in a bad state, and these rejections were making it worse.
When I realized my terrible backsliding, I resolved first and foremost to get some damn strange. I didn’t have the money for whores at that point, but if I’d had I would have blown my back account on orgies with the good ones. I became Roosh-like in my quest to get laid: robotic, unfeeling, and hyperlogical in my quest to get laid. I cut my hair, hit the gym, and bought a fashion magazine to learn the latest styles to shoot for. I remembered my old, good openers and hit the bars with a a vengeance.
The smell of beta and failure was strong upon me, however, so it wasn’t an instant success. But when I finally got that 6 into her bed and was dick-deep in her –let me tell you, that attachment, that “one-itis” I felt to Anna became more and more tenuous with each stroke. The next morning, I still had the attraction to Anna– but it was now more properly calibrated. A couple of more midnight successes reduced Anna’s hold even more.
NOTE: I did NOT tell Anna about my travails at hunting (see below). Very important to note this: if you want to break from her orbit, the girl does NOT get that information.
2. Stop Texting Her
One of the ways I’d been sucked into orbit is by texting this girl nonstop, especially when lonely. It was always ME texting her first. And they were very whiny/beta texts –”I’m so lonely,” “why did this happen,” etc. Tiger Woods’s wussiness had nothing on me. And it was about 3 of my texts to 1 of hers in response.
If necessary, get a phone app that blocks you from texting her at night (aka drunk apps). However, don’t block her number from your phone; if she sent a text that got blocked, she might get upset –and remember, we’re trying to minimize work consequences.
When I would get the urge to text her, I resorted to TEXTING MYSELF. That’s right, at a bar, knee-deep in self-pity, vomit, and Jack Daniels, I would be texting messages to my own phone. It prevented me from breaking silence and allowed me to see the betaness as a received text. Strange as it may sound, this was actually helpful psychologically–I felt better after each me text.
NOTE: I actually gave my phone number in my phone a different name (actually, it was “Anna”) so that anyone looking over my shoulder didn’t think I was too nutty.
3. Wait a Day to Respond to Her Texts
Anna wasn’t (and isn’t) a heartless girl; I’d merely given her the goose without demanding payment for the bird. So, when I’d stopped texting her, she tried texting me to see “what was up” and “if I was ok.”
Now, like any beta orbiter, I still urged to jump on these texts as proof of her love for me, and respond instantly. But that’s a bad move if you want out of her orbit. However, I couldn’t just not respond because I was tied to her due to work–that kind of coldness is reserved for attention whores who have no connection to your life.
So instead, I would wait a full day to respond to anything she said–24 hours at the minimum. This was the same response time she’d given me before, natch. If she asked why, I would always say I’d been busy and gotten a lot of texts. Any response would be 2-3 texts maximum and then I’d clam up.
Furthermore, I didn’t explain why I was so busy. The girl-beta orbiter relationship is partly based on her knowing everything about the beta’s life, and his need to give it to her. That’s part of the gravitational pull. By minimizing this, it minimized her power over my life—how could she control what she didn’t know—and my attachment to her—why feel attached to someone who has no knowledge of your life?
4. Set your Facebook/Twitter/Social Media Profiles So That You Can’t See her Updates
Part of the pain of this girl in my life was seeing her constant updates of her time with her boyfriend, her drunken escapades, and the hot pictures she posted online.It tortured me to see those images and words of happiness that she wasn’t having or doing for me. So I set my news feed preferences on Facebook to exclude her updates. BINGO; suddenly, her flirty photos and sweet protestations of love to her bf no longer twinged my heart.
Now, DO NOT (1) stop being friends with her on social media or (2) block her from seeing your updates. She will find out about this and get hurt—and, remember, this would spillover into work problems. Fee free to do this to girls not connected to work, but if you’re tied to your career, you have to treat her with kid gloves.
5. Change your Masturbation Schedule Regarding Her
Some guys, if they get one-itis, refuse to masturbate about one-itis girl. They’ll jackoff to any hot piece of ass they see, but not her. Pedestal, much?
Other guys furiously masturbate ABOUT one-itis girl to the near-exclusion of every other girl. Some feel guilty, like they’re cheating on her, if they jerk off about another girl. And others, even in masturbating about her, will keep it as wholesome as possible: rosepetals, mutual orgasms, etc.
Whatever your preference is, do the opposite.
If you never masturbated ab0ut her before, do so now, as many times as possible, and in the filthiest ways possible. Imagine her licking cum off the street corner, getting gangbanged, sleeping with animals, having orgies, being choked and slapped, etc.–anything that gets you off and makes you see her as just another piece of meat to use, abuse, and toss away when it annoys you. Trust me, her bf is actually doing some of those things to her, and she is enjoying them.
If you almost always masturbate about her, STOP. Masturbate about any other girl, but NOT her. You need to break your obsession. If you slip back into jerking off about her, at least make it dirty–so dirty she’s knocked off that pedestal. And, if you masturbate about her but normally somehow keep it filthy, do the opposite: imagine her refusing to do those things you love.
I was a guy who refused to masturbate about a girl I wanted until after I banged her. With Anna, I started imagining banging her bent over a subway turnstile late at night while her makeup was runny and she was dressed like a whore. Then I moved on to other fantasies–I think I jerked off 6 times one day to her being forced to eat an entire meal with my cum mixed into it after she jerked me onto it. After that, I started looking at her as just one girl of may–and a girl with a lot of flaws.
In any event, change how you think of her sexually. Furiously.
6. Have a Script For Her at Work Events
Since this is about a work-relationship, you need to have a script to deal with her. Just like Roosh and others advocate having some good opening lines and stories and threads to have with girls you are hitting on, you need good lines and stories and threads to deal with her inevitable probing and curiosity–without making her feel too shut out.
You should strive to keep casual conversations with your Anna under five minutes, with her doing most of the yapping. Keep it to the superficial, and about her if possible: her outfit, the weather, the new co-worker, sports, etc. If she starts moving to personal stuff–or tries a sexual innuendo–smile, and do one of two things: (1) say its not appropriate at work, but you can talk later (and you never follow up); or (2) smile warmly, but then be called off to do some project out of her eyesight.
It’s like reverse game: make the conversations as boring and unsexual as possible.
Anna tried many times at the office to get us back to talking more closely–which were hard to parry, until I realized the girl had an obsession talking about cruises. The girl LOVED to go on cruises, so I would talk about the latest packages to Alaska, Hawaii, Caribbean, etc. The technical aspects of the trips and the price kept her yapping. Once in a while she tried to drop a sexual note to entice me– “and I could wear a bikini, maybe even a thong!”—to which I would smile and continue saying stuff like “it’ll probably be too cold for that” or otherwise be a Buzz Killington.
7. If She Invites You to an Event, Be Busy or Cancel at the Last Minute
At this point, Anna was at least subconsciously knowing that she’d lost her safe, comfortable grip on me. So she made a few Hail Marys–she started inviting me out to hangout events at bars, clubs, museums, etc.
Now, bear in mind, the entire time before, I’d scheduled things or offered events for us to do together–to my knowledge, she’d never done it once. That’s classic beta-orbiter behavior: she just sat back and waited for me to do the legwork. But when I pulled away, she tried to rope me back in by planning those fake dates with me.
Now, for these dates, I was always busy. If I couldn’t find a legitimate excuse, I would straight up cancel the afternoon of–or, if it was a group-type invent, pull a no-show. I pulled a no-show on her b-day party and sent a simple text saying I was caught in traffic. A short text saying “sorry, can’t make it” or “ugh, got caught up in some drama, can’t come” or “babe, too tired to come, have fun without me” will suffice for most of her planned events.
Many may note that my actions possibly increased Anna’s attraction towards me—the failure to answer her right away, the last minute rejections, etc. Indeed, outside of my deliberate refusal to have deep or sexual conversations with her at work, this entire plan could be a form of hard-game. But you don’t want your Anna in your life for two reasons: (1) the risk of falling back into beta orbiter behavior is high, given your past actions around her and (2) you see her at work every day. Unless she wants to be fuck buddies–and she needs to say that explicitly to you—she is out of your personal life.
Anna and I still work in the same office; in fact, she’s right down the hall from me. We interact and chat pleasantly throughout the day, but there is no personal spark, as I now just see her for what she is: a moderately cute office drone with a lot of miles on her. She’s long been single after that bf–the rumor went around that he caught her cheating on him (no surprise there). As for me, I’ve worked on my game and am quite proud of my mini-soft harem when I’m going good, and not so downtrodden when I hit a dry spell.
As the Captain says, stay frosty, boys.
If this is not your theme song for the night, do not bother going out:
There’s a meme that the slutty-feminazi left has promoted over the last few years. Basically, it boils down to this:
The guys I have relationships with win the prize with me. I don’t care about the one-night-stands; they don’t get my heart, which is the most valuable thing about me. Therefore, how many partners I have is irrelevant, nor is the fact that I let other guys fuck me first but you, Mr. Relationship, had to wait.
To which I say: hahahahahahahahahaha.
Listen up, skanks: sex dominates the male body, consciousness, and subconsciousness more than any single other attraction issue. Since it is what our primal, monkey-lizard brains want the most, he who gets the most of it and has the easiest time of it is the winner. The bitch who has to put up with your whining and your three-date-rule bullshit? Loser.
And you know this.
Despite all your feminist mantra, the fact that you gave it up for free to other guys but now demand payment is telling a guy that he isn’t worthy of you like those other dudes were. And that is why you constantly have to read propaganda…because reality is creeping into your brain from all corners.
I am a worthless skank.
A relationship with your skanky ass isn’t the prize; it is the price a loser has to pay to be admitted to what was once a free ride. And guess what? That price is looking too damn high for too many betas every day.
A family in Australia, presumably white [SEE UPDATE BELOW], is big news for massive inbreeding
Yet this will be far BIGGER news in America than all the deliberate black-inbreeders in the U.S. Every year there are scattered articles about yet another Black Man who deliberately inbreeds with his children—this year, it was the FORMER PRODUCER of music videos for the Fugees rap group–yet little is done to address this epidemic.
Note this is ON TOP of all the casual-but-accidental inbreeding going on in American black communities, since few non-black men breed with the women; one man is largely responsible for many or the majority of the children in a neighborhood, but the children do not know who he is or who their half-siblings would be; premarital sex and children out of wedlock are encouraged by the culture; people not leaving the communities they were born in; and the black community turns a blind eye to sexual taboos in general (on-the-down-low sex drives black HIV rates, R. Kelly having sex with his cousin with nary a peep).
Inbreeding is huge in the black community in the U.S. It likely contributes to many problems.
(h/t: Ron Unz)
[UPDATE: ACCORDING TO THE REPORT AT PARAGRAPH 151, THE FAMILY IS ACTUALLY ABORIGINAL OR NATIVE NEW ZEALAND IN ETHNIC ORIGIN. SO NO DOUBT THIS WILL NOT BE BIG NEWS HERE IN AMERICA---BECAUSE ITS NOT A "MAKE FUN OF HILLBILLIES" ISSUE].
Sadness is…when your favorite porn site is offline due to technical issues.
Hipsters and niggers share one common trait: if you smack them around, they will cower. The Klan (hell, every African slave trader) knew this about niggers—–they are cowards, and if you smack them around like the black bitches they are, they will piss their pants and call you massa.
Hipsters, who worship negroes, do resemble them in a few subtle ways, one of which is that if you punch them in the face, they cry like faggots.
Freedom of speech is abused and wasted on these “people.” The moment one tries to engage you in “dialect” to “enlighten” you—strike, and strike hard.
You will thank me later. Debating these people is debating someone with the intelligence of a 12-year-old.
Vladimir Putin ate Barack Insane Obama’s lunch on Syria. Patiently waiting for years to stick it to the weak, stupid U.S. President, Putin got his chance with the Syria debacle.
Unlike most white Americans, Putin is both : 1) a race realist; and 2) in a position of power. He clearly saw Obama’s rise as the affirmative action gift it was, and saw his countless blunders not as art of a well-developed strategy, but as the meanderings of a shallow Negro invested with way more power than he could understand.
So the president got served. So what? Presidents have been embarrassed in the past. Some made face-saving maneuvers and regained historical credibility (think Kennedy).
But Mein Obama, the Sainted Nigger, is different. His entire life in the U.S., he has been worshiped and had every flaw diminished; every grade point rounded up; every white man in his path step aside. A mediocre man, he has grown arrogant thinking his every movement to be god-like because 1) whitey told him so; and 2) he was rewarded for it.
But like every affirmative action guy—think that token nigger in your office, boys—at the first sign of a white man NOT obeying the law of bowing-down-to-negroes, and actually criticizing his work and calling it poor, the psyche, so unprotected and unchallenged, becomes gravely wounded. Republicans went out of their way in two presidential elections to praise him as “intelligent” “competent” and a “gifted speaker,” and lavished on his black ass the kind of sovereign respect they hardly give to their own candidates. But Putin showed nothing but contempt for Obama. The famous photograph of the two of them, with Putin looking like a schoolteacher forced to “dialogue” with a schoolyard brat instead of suspending him first, spoke volumes: Putin knew Obama had no business being on Putin’s level. And, in Syria, Putin demonstrated that niggers can’t lead shit.
As his first real live white man treating him as the unintelligent darky he really is, Obama’s ego must have flat-lined.
You see, every accusation by darkies that a white man “ain’t respectin’” him is meant to cover his terrifying nightmare: that whitey WILL expose him as a fool, and laugh at him for it (side note: the best way to win any argument with a darky is to keep pointing at them and laughing. Despite making no sense, their precious 12-year-old egos can’t handle it. They either explode or run away in shame.)
So with his work finally shown as the sham it is–by a white man! who won’t bow to him!—Obama’s wound cut psychically deep. That, his utter failures, and the worsening economy, all point to Obama himself publicly lashing out and literally “blaming whitey” and “racism” for his problems.
The rub is this government-shutdown. I have no doubt the Republicans saw Obama’s weakness with Putin and decided to double down. If they push hard enough, they will either 1) get Obama to “blame whitey” before a compromise is reached; or 2) cause Obama to fold like the cheap, empty suit that he is, terrified at even more white men opposing him openly—then he’ll blame racism later, after his handlers have talked his precious baby ego back to it’s old diversity-induced delusions of grandeur.
But only if they stay firm, attack his intelligence, and don’t yield.