Archive for February, 2013

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Never met a woman who didn’t LUV sushi

February 22, 2013

Sorry for my long absence. Ill, injured, depressed and looking for meaning all took their toll. Beyond writers block, I simply lost the will to sit in front of my computer to type shit up.

I’m a true INT something. J maybe? I took the Meyers Briggs test long ago and it fit me like my zodiac sign. Perfectly. Virgo in case you are unawares. Being INT depletes me, even blogging. Go figure.

I will be back shortly but the new strategy is to create smaller posts so I don’t get sidetracked trying to make epic posts. This means you’ll see lots of overlap as I abandon trying to consolidate drafts. My drafts are growing like Fangorn and I need to deal with them before I write on any new topics in the sphere so you may see me post about crap that’s none too relevant. I will note each post with a *draft save * tag so you know.

I also intend to answer a few criticisms and questions left in the comment section of my incel post with a follow up, now many months removed from when I first published it, and about a almost a year since I wrote it… new man that I am. Hopefully I’ll have that up prior to my interview in the reddit Redpill Room late March. I’ll post time/details later.

To wrap up, the title of this post is a reminder of my going through online profiles of women and as sure as you can be of death and taxes, you will find them prattle on about their love of inane shit like red wine or being a foodie, as if it matters in life or relationships.

But you go ahead you fierce, independent woman, enjoy your yummy sea monster meat with your red wine.

Just don’t forget how it got on your plate.

(In case you didn’t know what those men where doing at the end I’ll clue you in. They were crying. They were showing emotion. Yes. Men are human beings with emotions too. Perish the thought.)

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deadliest_Catch#section_6

M3

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Turning down a NiceGuy/LJBF the proper way

February 11, 2013

Con’t from my last post.

I’m assuming i have a female audience. I may be delusional. Help me out at the end and answer my poll.

..

Have a man in your orbit who wont take the hint? Have a puppy dog humping your leg and you just can’t shoo him away because you like it’s company? You wanna let a guy down who’s obviously attracted to you but is not attractive? Just don’t know what to say?

TELL HIM WHAT HE’S DOING WRONG! NOW!

Be downright brutal if you have to.

Tell him the true nature of what women want. Tell him he’s been lied to. He’ll protest. He’ll say his mom, his teachers, other girls, all tell him it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

TELL HIM IT’S NOT ENOUGH!

He may very well be absolutely awesome on the inside.. but that’s not the issue now is it! It’s that he’s not attractive. You shouldn’t tell him that what’s on the inside doesn’t matter.. of course it does! This is what separates a decent human being from sociopaths. Simply telling him what’s on the inside doesn’t matter is a sure fire way to send him down the dark path.. as Vader did.. and he will become an agent of evil. A supplicating niceguy.

But you have to make it clear that it is not enough simply to be good on the inside. Being nice to your mom and helping ladies across the street are good traits, but they ain’t fucking attractive in getting the lower lips moist, if ya know what imma sayin. And being good at D&D and knowing how to speak Klingon in the original tongue are admirable to be sure, but the pool of women who’d be willing to cook you a plate of G’agh and serve it to you in a maid’s outfit is severely limited. And let’s not forget that being pasty white and seeing your bones sticking through your skin don’t exactly scream ‘primal savage’.

So be fucking brutally honest OK? Promise me. Do it smart, point out the flaws that need fixing, and explain why if necessary. A majority of guys will absorb it and mull it over if done in a logical fashion rather than a plea to his emotions which are already all over the map at this point. Logic shall ground them, hit them with some fucking redpill!

Guys learn through failure when they are presented with a cause to overcome.

Aim Gun > Shoot > Look at Target > Hole to the Right > Aim Gun More Left > Shoot > Repeat till Bullseye.

Guys learn by doing, but they require immediate feedback, cause and effect to know what’s working and what isn’t. Many women refuse to let the ’cause’ be known, so all the guy see’s is ‘effect’ of not being chosen, thus attributing it to “girls dont like nice.. so ill be a dick”.

And another douche-bag dark triad jersey shore cock is born.

Even Hobbits go douche when Friendzoned for too long.

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There are NiceGirls™ all around us

February 7, 2013
making-sandwiches

You’re too Nice dear.

Ever see the girl who loves cooking breakfast for a douchebag?

Ever know a girl who really likes getting her boyfriend a beer?

Ever witnessed a girl make a sammich for her lover?

Ever heard about a woman who picks up after, cleans and does the laundry of her special guy?

Ever read dating and advice columns about women asking what more they can do to get their significant other to un-equivocally commit to them?

Ever had to listen to some vapid chick cry about how hard she tries to please her man sexually, giving him every request he wants without getting her needs fulfilled, faking her orgasms or just getting the wham bam jackhammer thank you m’aam treatment.. and then  asking why he’s still so distant?

Ever hear a woman weep after being berated, humiliated, shoved, abused by her man.. and defend her man saying he’s really not like that, he’s a good person, just give him time?

Ever hear all of this from a woman who simply felt an expectation that doing these things were part of building a relationship towards the goal of commitment?

Ever hear a woman call a man a commitment-phoebe?

Ever hear all of these women pour forth a river of tears , shrieking in agony and cursing to the heavens about how they did everything to keep the relationship going, how awful these horrible men were for not pouring in the same amount of effort, how he’s a creep, a loser, immature, peter pan, man boy  child, not ready for a serious relationship and how he wouldn’t man up to take the relationship to the “next level“?

The vitriol that bursts forth from their lips when cold, harsh  reality sinks in as her mind awakens to the fact that all her efforts were for naught, all the while receiving cold comfort and validation from a security blanket of female friends, a gaggle of hens who curse the stupid awful mean man who simply refused to appreciate her epic awesomeness to perform his duty to the imperative and commit to her.

We see it all the time but never call it out for what it is because we live in a world that gives primacy and validation for the female preferred method of both promiscuity and attaining commitment.

It’s the rules of GirlWorld™.

THE NICE PARADOX. TO BE NICE IS TO CEDE POWER.

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Ladies.. Welcome to M3’s Used Car Emporium

February 5, 2013

Com’on down and let’s get your fine rear into a great vehicle today m’lady!

Don’t worry about any nasty car salesman tactics…

You can trust a face like this…

carsales1

Photoshop is my mistress. Welcome to M3’s Used Car Extravaganza!

I see you’re a little nervous miss. First time buying a car? Yeah, it can be exciting. I hear ya. You’re tired of renting and leasing vehicles, you want to own one for the long haul. A great dependable vehicle that will get you from A to B! One that’s reliable and won’t break down on you half way through your journey!

Well, i’m here to help.

And there’s NO need to consult with Car & Driver or Consumer Reports lil’missy. I’ll be your hookup.

So let’s start shall we! Follow me this way to the lot.

carsales2

This picture is years old and only time you’ll catch me in a purple suit jacket.

Ok, take a look at these two fine beauties!

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Adaption

February 2, 2013

Quick post and a test of creating a post from my Google Nexus 7 WordPress app.

image

Was working the bench press last night with my friend and probably tried to push out one too many reps. Form went south and was arching my back a little too much, cheating to get the last ones up. I knew I was going to pay for it.

This morning I was sore but didn’t think anything of it. I’ve been sore before. So i went of to play some hardcore Olympic level table tennis with the Zen master.. A man twice my age and impossibly full of energy reserves mere mortals don’t have. He’s a terminator.. I’m positive of this.

He’s mentoring a young kid into ping pong, and today he and his father were there to watch the two of us have an epic battle.

2nd game in, my back had other ideas. I felt it, that split second where you know if you finished the motion, you’d be on the ground and need to be carried home. I stopped just short. I wasn’t down for the count but I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t stand tall, I couldn’t run from left to right, I couldn’t put any pressure on my back.

2 games in. Fuck. This would be a huge letdown for the father and son. I looked at Zen master and meekly grimaced, stood up slowly and said I had pulled something, but wasn’t going to use it as an excuse, to hit me with all he had. The kid came to see a war, wasn’t about to give him less.

The first few matches were a joke as I tried to figure a way to counter his shots and go for kill shots of my own. Without my prior range or mobility he was tearing me apart. But with each game I was forced to examine patterns, rely more on spin and accuracy, and most importantly, just get the ball to his side of the table and force him to make an error.

While he kept beating me, they weren’t resounding victories. I kept pace. I stated returning shots to the corners forcing him to bounce from end to end, thus keeping me in the center. I stopped using crazy spins on the serve and lobed them to just barely clear the net, forcing him to lob the returns high into the air giving me the advantage to make him start running left to right or just to smash it back down with a killer backhand which does not require back strength.

By the end I still only ended up winning about 4 games of 20… And lost our best of nine series ender 5 to 3. But they were all close games, half going into overtime where you need to win by 2 points.

Adapt. It’s what we do when we encounter change. The world is always changing, always evolving, sometimes for good, sometimes for ill. It helps us overcome obstacles and be resilient. Ask a paraplegic or someone wearing a prosthetic limb. It’s what you do when faced with a choice of doing something you don’t want to do to proceed forward or do nothing and be left behind.

The kid wanted an Olympic war, and I couldn’t give it to him by doing what worked in the past, so I had to adapt quickly, learn, experiment, grow. And for it we gave him a great show that will encourage him to continue learning the game under Zen master and put a smile on both dad and sons face.

The alternative was doing nothing and driving home.

To anyone who tells you game is smoke and mirrors, what they’re telling you is to go home. Learn game. Adapt. The goalposts have moved and there’s nothing you can do to change that. Learn how to rid yourself of traits that get you disqualified from playing.

You have a choice. Adapt or quit.

Now if you excuse me.. I need to go hobble off to my bed like the hunchback of Notre Dame now and wait for the Advil 500’s to kick in. Nobody said adapting was painless. Nothing worthwhile ever is.

..
Sent from my tablet. You see a spelling mistake, its the tablets fault.

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Ian, Vox, Sexbots, MGTOW, Sports Metaphors, Dancing and a Man with Boobs. I mock it!

February 1, 2013

RedAlert

[Long post alert, con't from previous post (link). Go get some coffee or just stop and come back later when you got time.]

To start this multiple intersecting post off, let’s start with an interesting post i discovered by RexPatriarch over here at Women Are The Ones Who Stress Being Alone Not Men

Now we’ve been around the block on this one a bunch of times, about the bullshit that’s pumped out by the lamestream about how important it is for men to marry IF they want less stress, health benefits, yada yada… you can just smell the drizzling of diarrhetic bullshit being sprayed from the back of this particularly sick and angry female cow. The whole MGTOW movement and the reciprocal banshee howls of the late 30’s women echoing over the night sky like the sound of a train horn carries on a rainy night are a testament to that bullshit. The good Captain quite effectively showed just how much fecal matter was ejected to build up this trope of men requiring women for longevity. If anything brings stress to a man’s life.. it’s usually having to deal with finding, then trying to keep a woman. And the stress goes through the roof if he fails to keep the women, along with most of his assets and children.

My own personal anecdote is that there is truth to the health benefits of pairing up.. but it’s quite overstated and the costs vastly underestimated. My personal tale was that of someone miserable and unwell until i banged a few strippers, which brought me to a heightened state of confidence but un-fulfillment. Hooking up with and getting engaged to my wife was my chicken soup for the soul moment and i will tell you, in the 3 years we were together, i think i maybe had one sore throat. I didn’t call in sick once. I remember one time she was getting over a really nasty flu and she sounded terrible, voice all raspy and fucked up, but she wanted to get frisky. I pounded the living daylights out of her, swapping spit and fluids like it was going out of style. And my immune system went beastmode on every bacteria or virus that tried to get into me. Hell, i felt like Superman.

superman

But of course, there’s that moment the study doesn’t talk about. You know.. the one where after 2 months of marriage counselling and seeing the life you built about to be taken apart brick by brick, and you didn’t even kiss your wife on New Years because the two of you aren’t talking and you know your marriage is now a lie? Yeah.. good ol’ January, the month of breakups and divorce. Two days after the new year started i got hit with a fever of 39.5 degrees Celsius that came and went 5 times over the course of two days. Then there were all the colds and malaise i developed over the course of 3 months while sleeping at my moms place wondering if anyone was fucking my ex back in MY condo where i let her stay because my beta ass couldn’t just kick her out. Or all the stress i endured cancelling credit cards and bank accounts, insurance policies on homes and cars and dealing with real estate brokers and lawyers to make sure i gave my ex more than i thought she was entitled to in hopes she wouldn’t take my ass to court. Bargaining under the shadow of the law they call it.

Yea… you know what. My cheap rent, paid off car, healthy credit rating, beer money and xbox are doing my health wonders. Is it as great as the 3 years i had with wifey? Hard to say. Physically i’m stronger and better looking than ever, healthier over all, with all the time to exercise that i require. I’m not in a stressful rat race to accumulate things to keep up with the jones’s. Would the addition of a nice warm body to lay with at night be better? A woman who will smile a precious smile and laugh like a bubbly teenager to one of my witty retorts? Obviously. But at what price is it worth to have? And at what cost is it worth to lock in for the long haul when the risk is so high? As Roosh would say.. just rent until the cost jacks up, and find a new place.

Sad? Yes… but i didn’t bring this on myself. Hence why it’s easier for me as MGMOW to be alone. Tougher when you’re a kid, easier when you’re in your prime years and not dependent upon the almighty pussy. It has no power over me.

Here’s what a lot of women need to grasp here. I’m going to use the recent NHL lockout as a metaphor here.

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