No, the Dayton Shooter Was Not an “Antifa Shooter”

Right. The Dayton mass shooter was not the first “antifa mass shooter,” as the drooling, unhinged nutcase Andy Ngo insists. I don’t think this idiot deserved to get beat up by antifa, but he’s definitely a full-blown nutball.

Yes, Connor Betts was associated with the far left in the US and with the antifa portion of it with all of the behaviors that go along with that. He hated cops and fascists. His random shooting of nine innocent people outside of a bar in Dayton, Ohio had zero political overtones. “Antifa” does not advocate taking guns and killing innocent workers and other citizens. It advocates nothing of the kind.

Obviously mass shooters will often have a political ideology, especially in our ideologically blighted times. After all, they are adult Americans and nowadays most adult Americans have some sort of politics. In a nonpolitical shooting, a shooter may have any politics whatsoever from Far Left to Far Right and everything in between, and none of it matters one whit. That is because the shooting had nothing to do with politics, so the shooter’s politics is absolutely irrelevant.

By the way, the sex life of the shooter is also irrelevant. The Gilroy and El Paso shooters didn’t seem to do well with women, but neither was complaining about it, and there’s no evidence that misogyny or incel ideology had anything to do with the shooting. Believe it or not, any man can go on a mass shooting, from virgin to playboy. As long as the shooting has nothing to do with his sex life, obviously his sex life is utterly irrelevant.

The Dayton shooter did quite well with women, but he also had some serious anger towards them. Yet the shooting, which fired into a mixed crowd and killed more men than women in addition to killing his beloved best sister, was clearly not motivated by misogyny.

Instead, Connor Betts appears to have been suffering from sort of psychotic disorder, possibly Schizoaffective Disorder or Bipolar 1 Disorder. We know that he had been hearing external voices from an early age.

Politics in this country is getting seriously retarded with each passing day, and I blame both the Right and the Left for that because nowadays the Right and Left are equally deranged ideologically.

They don’t have much in common with each other except for a lack of connection with the real world and a tendency to lie, make stuff up, hallucinate, and engage in wild hyperbole and conspiracy mongering. Neither the Right nor the Left is as bad as the demonizers on the other side make them out to be.

No Feminists, the Three Recent Mass Shootings Had Nothing to Do With Misogyny

Of course, the feminists are on full rant, blaming misogyny for all three recent mass shootings. The Gilroy shooter was supposedly motivated by misogyny because he praised an old Social Darwinist tract  that is full racist and misogynistic writing. Nevertheless, there’s no evidence that the shooting was motivated by hatred of women, and in fact, this man said little or nothing about women one way or the other. Nor did he target women in his shooting. He shot at anyone.

The moronic Left media state that the Gilroy shooter’s manifesto, which was basically apolitical and if anything an argument against unchecked population growth, contained  racist and misogynistic statements. He lamented that “Latinos and Silicon Valley twats” were flooding into his town. Sounds like he was upset about rampant population growth in his town.

Yes, he mentions Latinos, but he also mentions Silicon Valley types, and they tend to be either White, Asians, or South Indians. So either he hated Whites, Latinos, Asians, and South Indians equally (or just about everybody), or race had nothing to do with the shooting.

The FBI has since found a hit list of possible targets this man had composed including all sorts of government offices, churches, and organizations from all over the political spectrum. The more you look at this shooting, the more it seems to have not had any politics at all.

The moron feminist media claimed that “Silicon Valley twats” was a misogynistic phrase, apparently implying that he hated female Silicon Valley workers. Yes, twat can refer to female genitalia, though it’s not often used that way. Yes, you can call a woman a twat just as you can call her a bitch or a cunt, and it can be an insult when used this way.

But the way twat is most frequently used in the US simply means something like idiots, fools, morons, dumbasses, etc. So the comment was not misogynistic at all.

Instead he commented on “Silicon Valley clowns,” which isn’t bigotry at all except that our modern bigotry hunters, determined to excavate every bit of hate lurking in the caverns of even the most innocent of sentences, will probably dig some up. After all,  when you go looking for a certain thing, you have a way of finding it, even if it’s via hallucination.

The El Paso mass shooter is also somehow a misogynist in addition to being an “incel,” though no one knows his sex life, and he wasn’t complaining anyway. This is because he was a White Supremacist (fact), and White Supremacists are all automagically linked to misogyny via links with MRA’s, incels, PUA’s, etc. Or so say the serial liars at the SPLC, but they lie half the time their mouths are open, so they aren’t a good source about anything.

First of all, half of incels are non-White. Yes, some White incels are White Supremacists, but many more are not, and most incel boards now have polices against race-bait posting.

In general PUA ideology says nothing about race, leaving aside that clowns like Roissy and Roosh have adopted racialist ideology. PUA ideology is about heterosexual men getting laid by women. There’s no racialism inherent in such a philosophy of seduction unless I missed that lecture in Pick-Up class.

MRA’s are notoriously for being non-racist or anti-racist, and racism has never been a part of the MRA scene to my knowledge.

Yes, many White Supremacist men are quite sexist, and fascism often has strong links to sexism. But fascists never made a habit of murdering women. They just wanted them at home, in the kitchen, or in church (or the German translation of such), taking care of kids, cooking meals, and gaining spiritual sustenance. Kinder kuchen kirch.

A number of the more hardcore White Supremacists do seem to hate women or at least have a very low opinion of them. The crowd around The Daily Stormer and Vanguard News Network (though the latter is more sexist than misogynistic) is a good example of that. But the quietist aspect of the movement as seen in the American Renaissance site is not misogynistic or sexist at all. Neither is Greg Johnson’s more hardcore Countercurrents site.

It’s true there are few women in the White Supremacist scene, but that is probably because hardcore racism and fascism appeal a lot more to men than to women. In fact, fascism is actually designed to appeal to men.

Nevertheless, many White Supremacists and White racists of any type do not hate women at all, and nor are they sexist. If anything, from my depraved dope, booze, and sex-drenched point of view, I find them squares, fuddy-duddies, and party-poopers. They talk a lot about protecting their women, and they seem to mean it. They probably pedestalize women more than anything else.

So of the three mass shooters, only one has misogyny issues, and his shooting had nothing to do with his issues with women. So the feminists are 0-3 on their theory, which is about how they score on every bit of their fact-free ideology.

Repost: Alt Left: The Epidemic of Situational Male Homosexuality in the US

First of all, I’m straight. I’m only attracted to females. I’m maximally attracted to females and minimally attracted to males, if at all. Also, I don’t do it with guys. Refuse to. And have to desire to either. In fact, I’m repelled by the notion.

From about 1979-1986, I witnessed an incredible amount of situational homosexuality among mostly young White men in Southern California. The men were generally in their 20’s, about 22-30 or so, though there were some all the way to middle age.

In terms of the situational homosexuality, I think most of them were either straight or mostly straight.

I also had to deal with endless gay and bisexual men after me, but that was another matter altogether.

I followed up on a number of these situational guys, and they later married, settled down, moved to the suburbs, got high paying jobs, had a couple of kids, and I assume gave up the gay shit altogether.

Some of these guys were truly bisexual, but truly bi guys who have strong attraction to females can always give it up. The ones I knew had very strong attractions to females. I know because they were my best friends for a long time. They also had some strong attractions to men which I noticed.

A friend of mine is stunned about the levels of this stuff that I am reporting. But it’s true, and I know it is. Why did they want me? I’m not sure. As a young man, I was said to be very good looking in a pretty boy, male model – actor kind of way. I had offers from Hollywood and modeling studios. Of course, during this period, I had females of all ages after me all the time too, so I wasn’t worried. If it was only guys, I would have started worrying.

Thing is, if these guys were going to hit on anyone, they would hit on me. Why? Not sure. Maybe strong good looks I supposedly had, maybe that lots of people back then were certain that I was gay or bi, so they thought they could get away with it without getting their asses kicked. All I know is that I lived a nightmare like this for a number of years.

You have absolutely no idea how many guys are into this stuff; I don’t know what the numbers are, but they must be incredibly high. For young men, figures ranging from 10-15% would not surprise me one bit. But as they age, a lot of them drop out and knock it off. It must diminish a lot by the 30’s.

But I also had middle aged guys, macho guys, cops after me – even officers like sergeants, married men with little kids, on and on. A lot of them, you wouldn’t think they were gay or bi at all. Because although gay men are usually effeminate, bisexual guys or situationally gay guys can act any way you can imagine. They can act like the most macho guys on Earth.

I remember once I made friends with this guy was said he was bi, but I think he was mostly gay. We were over at his place, and he hit on me. I turned him down, then he confessed to his homo or bisexuality. He whipped out this set of about 50 photos. Young White guys, 18-25, all construction workers who were working on local sites. Really tough, hard-ass working class guys. He’d sucked all their cocks. I guess you just lie back, close your eyes, and pretend it’s a woman.

The only thing you can be sure of with a really macho guy is he’s almost always not completely or even mostly gay. However, femininity and effeminacy are related to male homosexual behavior. Quite a few wimpy, girly, or faggy guys of all orientations are into gay stuff, and the more sissy they are, the more likely that they are into it. So femininity is a marker for male homosexual behavior to a strong degree. But there are also a very small number of completely straight men who act queer as the Ace of Spades.

There were other guys, well, they had some feelings that way, you could tell, but it was obvious that they did not want to act on it. Those guys aren’t gay or bi or situational or anything. I’m simply convinced that a lot of young men have a low level of attraction to other guys that they don’t wish to act on at all.

I was supposedly very good looking as a young man, and a lot of guys, not really gay at all, are attracted to very goodlooking men. That’s why straight guys hate pretty boys so much. These straight men get turned on by pretty boys, and they have a gay attraction in their makeup, however minor, and it drives them furious that they feel this way. So they see a pretty boy, think, “Look at that fag!”, and feel like beating him up.

At the time, in Southern California, in the crowd I ran in, there was nothing wrong with this situational gay stuff. I spoke out against this fagging off nonsense and was condemned as “evil” for doing that.

There was a while when I wasn’t having sex with anyone, and I wasn’t even dating that much, and I was told I was “evil” for doing that too. Truth is, I was desperate for sex, but there just wasn’t much going on for whatever reason, not my choice. So I was involuntarily celibate or incel for whatever reason for a period of up to months or possibly longer. I just wasn’t getting any for various reasons, mostly shyness.

This is why I have some sympathy for incels. Most single men are incel for varying periods in their lives. And I hear about more and more sexless marriages all the time, so marriage is not a guarantee of sex at all. Quite a few married men might be technically incel. We are all incels now!

At that time though, everyone had to be fucking someone 100% of the time. If you had no luck with women, then you had to go fuck some guy. Anything but the evil of celibacy. This was late 70’s through mid 80’s at the peak of the Sexual Revolution.

A friend of mine asked me if guys are desperate these days. I don’t think so.

In my Dad’s generation, there was little to no sex before marriage. Guys hardly fagged off at all. I don’t know what they did instead, maybe jack it.

In many countries, that’s still pretty much the case. If a young man wants sex, he needs to get married. Otherwise, no sex. Young guys have a tradition of buying whores in these places to lose their virginity and become men.

So young men 30 years ago in Southern California were not desperate at all historically and on a world scale. I would say that on a world scale in time, single men in Southern California 30 years ago were getting record amounts of sex from women.

But during that era, you were always supposed to be having sex. Young single guys are probably not going to be getting constant sex. If you want that, you get married. Even back then, it was common or even typical to find young guys who, while not virgins or never had a date types, had no particular woman at the time. Dry spells.

Then again, a lot of guys who came after me were married, had steady women, lived with women, etc. I assume they were getting plenty of sex, or they could have if they wanted to.

I conclude that situational homosexuality or bisexuality is a pretty significant part of a lot of a very small percentage (possibly 10-15%) of young men’s lives, and in most cases it probably fades with age. Of that 10-15%, possibly 2/3 to 3/4 are more or less straight.

It needn’t be that way. In a proper society, situational homosexuality would be minimal.

Believe me, I have utmost respect for men who are truly gay or deeply bisexual. I know they can’t help it. If guys turned me on as much as women do and women turned me on  as much as they do now, I would have a hard time turning it down. I’d probably be out screwing guys like crazy, HIV be damned. If guys turned me on as much as women do, and women not at all, I hope I would have the guts to be gay.

But situational homosexuality is just that. It’s totally elective behavior, and they can knock it off anytime they want to.

The surveys are all wrong.

New surveys are done with complete anonymity. They take you into a room with a computer, and you fill out the questionnaire. No one knows who you are, and a computer program reads it.

They are getting very high scores of male homosexual behavior, crime, even violent crime, and drug use, even hard drugs. I saw a recent survey done on computers with total anonymity that had 13% of young Canadian guys in a suburb of Ontario engaging in regular gay sex. I would guess that of that number, only 25-30% are truly gay. The rest are something else, but that something else is mostly a straight thing.

This is the thing. You really need to have strong societal prohibitions against situational male homosexuality. Either that or mandate early marriage, cheap or free prostitution, or force young women, possibly at gunpoint, to have sex with young men. None of those last three are really possible.

Hence stigma is the only thing that keeps men from doing this. If you take the prohibition off of male homosexual behavior, as modern gay rights wants to, guys will engage in tons of situational homosexuality.

The only thing stopping them is stigma.

PUA/Game: Game Minus Looks Is Worthless

Incel forums are great PUA/Game zones because incels usually have PUA/Game down. Incels are super experts on PUA/Game. Lot of good that’s doing them. This goes to show that just knowing Game stuff doesn’t get you laid.

You need the Looks or something else – Status, Money, Power, Fame to attach the Game onto otherwise it’s not worth a thing. Game minus Looks strikes me as quite useless and possibly even dangerous as now you have essentially an arrogant Omega, which is a #metoo trainwreck waiting to happen.

PUA/Game: The Value of Incel Sites

People don’t realize this but not everyone on incel sites are virgins or even incels. Many “incels” have had sexual experience ranging from a bit to a lot. On one of the most popular posters, Chadfisherman, was 35 years old and had had sex with 33 women. But he hadn’t been laid in three years, so he figured he was an incel.  By the traditional definition, he was an incel. The definition is no sex in the last six months. Hell, that’s probably most single people right there.

There are so many Normies and even Alphas and believe it or not Chads on incel forums, it is amazing. In fact the Normie flood in incel sites is such a huge issue that many incel sites have had to initiate policies to deal with it. Some allow incels only to varying degrees. is completely insane on this issue.

They ban anyone with any sexual experience at all. An incel gets a make-out session with a woman, and he’s got to leave. This is crazy as you are throwing out the best and most successful men and ensuring that only the worst and most failed men are in the forums. Of course this leads these forums to be endless purveyors of gloom and doom where incels egg each other on with negativity, self-hatred and rage.

If you are looking for PUA advice there’s not many places to go. I despise PUA/Game forums and blogs for the reason listed below. Even any incel site that does not ban successful men quickly gets infiltrated by Alphas and even Chads. I wonder why a lot of these men are even on these forums. I suspect some are there to brag and feel better than the incels. This is one of the main reasons that bragging is banned on some incel forums – it will make the incels feel even worse than they already feel.

So where else to go? Nowhere if you want to avoid swaggering braggarts and showoffs. There’s now a site called Failed Normies, but you pretty much have to be 1-6 in Looks to be there. These are ordinary guys who have had some degree of sexual experience but are now going through a dry spell or incel period. I don’t mind the atmosphere but I’m not exactly a failed Normie. More like a Chad that got bombed with a B-52 of an Agepill.

So where do you go? Incel sites are great for PUA/Game advice, as I will show below.

I like incel forums because there are fewer swaggering braggart Alphas and Chads. PUA type forums, even Lookism, get quickly infiltrated by serious braggarts who are like, “I fucked five chicks in the last two weeks. And they were all HB-10’s.” For all I know these guys might be telling the truth. I mean guys like that exist. But even with my rather illustrious history, guys like that make me feel small. They make me feel like a damned truecel.

Most guys are down to Earth at best and self-hating at worst. At least you won’t feel small.

Game/PUA: Chads Versus Incels: Women’s Double Standards

Shy, very quiet, or brooding Chad is regarded as a “project” by women who are determined to “pull Chad out of his shell.” Other women find him mysteriously attractive. They look at him. “The quiet one,” they say with an amazed, fascinated and possibly horny look on their faces.

Shy Chad somehow can fuck for hours at a time because, well, being Chad does that to you. “Still waters run deep,” she says, shaking her head after she got fucked by “shy Chad” for two hours straight.

The strange, serious, brooding, mysterious, somewhat dangerous Chad is an object of fascination by the women he dates. “Look at this brooding man. He’s so fascinating and mysterious. He reminds me of a university professor I used to date,” She says, homing in on him, fascinated, like a cruise missile.

Others find it touching. “Aw,” his new girlfriend says, “Chad is shy,” like she was talking about a 6 year old boy. Chad’s shyness is cute, endearing, boyish, sensitive, heartwarming.

Incels are quiet, and it’s “When is he going to whip out the guns and start shooting!?” Incels brood and they are dangerous creeps, to be avoided, the next mall shooter. On the other hand, if incels stop being quiet and shy and try to talk to women, now they are dangerously weird and creepy, and it’s #metoo time. Incels are screwed. Damned if they are quiet, damned if they come out of their shells.

Incels are immature. “Why don’t you incels grow up!”

Chad is exactly the same as the immature incels, except Chad is “boyish”. “There’s something boyish about you, like a little boy,” the new woman says, delight dancing in her eyes. “I love it.”


Are Men Really Entitled to Women's Bodies?

It is a feminist article of faith that men are either entitled to women’s bodies or we think we are entitled to women’s bodies.
This notion strikes me as so absurd.
The average woman has three sex partners in a lifetime. Your average man has sex with six women in a lifetime. If men were actually entitled to women’s bodies or even if they thought they were, they would literally go grab sex anytime they wanted, and those figures would be far higher.
The idea that we men have or think we have a right to female bodies is absurd. Don’t these feminists realize that even men who are very good with women can go weeks, months, or even years without sex because, well, no woman seems like she wants to out with them? Including yours truly. If I am actually entitled to women’s bodies, I assure you that I would go grab me one real soon.
If it’s this bad for the players, think of the sexless nightmare the incels go through. Feminists say, “Incels think they have a right to female bodies!” Well, if incels feel that way, why don’t they go grab one, then?

The Strange Thing about Male Heterosexuality

O n a feminist forum, a feminist wrote how she felt when she was a girl”

I thought, “if they hate girls so much, why are they obsessed with having sex with them?

I went to an incel forum once, and I described it to a friend as those men in there acting in exactly that way. I did seem a bit odd. They’re screaming about how they much they despise women, and then there’s a porny post showing a really hot, sexy woman or a gif of a sexy female acting cute and girly. They’re furious at women, but they’re in love with them too. The juxtaposition is jarring and confusing.

I told my friend how these guys thought, and he said, “So what? That’s the way all straight men feel! It’s just normal. What’s wrong with it?” This mixture of hatred and extreme desire, I guess. I was rather taken aback but he sort of has a point.

We hate them but we are dying to fuck them.

Alt Left: Feminist Idiot Just Came to My Site

She was commenting on this piece: Why Are Feminists Always Attacking Their Male Enemies by Saying They Can’t Get Women?
Guess what this feminist retard said?
Two guesses.
On an article about why feminist idiots always attack all the men who are against them by saying they are virgins who can’t get laid, guess what this dumb feminist broad did? She said…drum roll…that I couldn’t get laid! How original.
First of all, her response made no sense, but then she’s a woman so hey. On top of that excuse, she’s also a feminist, and feminists are far more insensible than your average woman because their whole ideology is irrational.
Initially she said that obviously no feminist had ever said I couldn’t get laid, while in fact, they all do that. Even worse, I wonder if feminist here is just a stand-in for women in general because I have legions of female enemies all over the Internet who may or may not be feminists. Guess what they all say about me? Obviously I can’t get laid! So maybe this childish retort is just something that women in general use as a retarded ad hominem.
I mean really. Feminists are supposed to be promoting some sort of a political theory. Sure there are many people lined up against them. In debating their enemies, these dumb feminists can’t come up with anything better than accusing all of their enemies of being unable to get laid? That’s so petty and childish of them. You would think that as political activists, they would more professional than that, but professional feminist is an oxymoron..
Then she said that since no feminist ever said this to me (How did she know?), obviously I was hallucinating all these women saying this about me. Then she went on to say I am hallucinating them because…ta da…I can’t get laid! And I am projecting this fact onto all of these feminists as a hallucination.
Then she went on for several paragraphs going on an on about…guess what? Why I can’t get laid! This is too funny.
Next she shifted gears and said I must be a very angry, bitter, miserable person. On the contrary, instead I am just an asshole. I’m not miserably angry most of the time, but sometimes certain people really set me off.
At the end, she accused me of incitement and I guess inciting violence against…apparently feminists. She brought up a future where some mass murderer hypothetically slaughtered a group of….apparently women…after he was incited to commit this act by my post. Well I wouldn’t want to see any women per se killed by anyone as a result of this post.
I would also like to point out that not only do feminists do this to me, but they do it to all of their critics. It is an article of faith among feminists that all Manosphere types simply can’t get laid.
Well, incels can’t, sure.
MGTOW’s can, and many have, often many times, but they are getting a divorce from women and aren’t even trying to have sex.
MRA’s and redpillers don’t seem to have any obvious problems getting sex. Redpillers often get more sex than the rest of us. I have never heard that incel was a characteristic of MRA’s. In fact, many are ex-married men, now divorced.
Of course PUA’s can get laid. But feminists insist that all PUA’s can’t get laid, and they claim that all PUA’s who say they do are lying incels.
So it’s not just me. It’s anyone who takes them on.
A look around the world shows that many men who are hostile to feminism can absolutely get laid, and many feminist-hostile men are drowning in sex and women. Just another Feminist Theory Fail, an everyday occurrence.

Incels in Middle Eastern Culture and the West: A Comparison

Eric Blair: So a heterosexual man in these societies with a flawed personality…maybe he is unusually passive, crippled by shyness or overly emotional and thus has difficulty attracting a woman and engaging in the usual banter and one-upmanship with his male peers…would he be considered a ‘not man’ and gain a measure of acceptance? My guess is ‘no’ but I then again I didn’t know about the two-spirit thing either.
In the West he might be part of the ‘PUA’ scene for a while (which has been around long before the media discovered it, and at its core is basically a hetero male self-improvement club), or maybe he’s a ‘nice guy’ who hangs out in the ‘Manosphere’ bitterly nursing a grudge against women, or a self-loathing loner hooked on drugs or video games.
If he fails to overcome his character flaws and isn’t mistaken for a homosexual, our society classifies a guy like this a loser of the failed heterosexual variety and leaves him to his fate. It’s mostly an unspoken thing though. And it demonstrates the official feminist/SJW/media line about our era of ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusivity’ is bullshit. Nobody loves an awkward straight guy.

Hi George! I know you don’t like gay men very much, but that’s quite all right, as homophobia is a normal and natural reaction for any healthy straight man. Anyway, Spender and Auden are long since dead, so I think you can relax. Your attitude is a quite logical reaction of revulsion stemming from the experience of English public schooling.
First of all, not-men (nancies or pansies in your lingo) in Iranian society are simply gay men, not trans men. Gay men are very much loathed in Iranian society. But even Gordon Comstock would be happy to note that this man probably would not be considered gay.
In cultures like that you can actually be a lifelong bachelor. I taught some Arab students and one told me about an uncle on his who was in his 40’s and had never married. “I don’t think he likes women very much,” he said with a chuckle. These societies are pretty misogynistic, so that’s a good excuse.
But they are not so homophobic that they run around accusing straight men of being gay. I have spent a lot of time with Arabs, especially Yemenis. Gay men simply do not exist in their societies. All men are automatically assumed to be straight. If you are not successful with women, it’s no big deal, and someone will probably fix you up anyway. Anyway, most single men in that society are not successful with women because premarital sex is hard to come by.
This insane suspicion we have of straight men who do not act straight enough or get laid enough as being gay does not exist on those countries. You are assumed to be straight until proven otherwise. Most men accused of being gay in that country are almost certainly gay.
In those societies, they don’t engage in a lot of banter and one-upmanship because you don’t talk about your sex life in that culture, and all of the men act “Alpha” so in a sense, all men are macho and quite equal. It’s a society of equal macho guys. I have to admit that that is one very nice thing about a patriarchal society like the Arabs have: the very warm camaraderie among relatively equal masculine men.
The single guys are not getting any sex anyway. So there is not a lot of strutting around, “I’m getting laid and you’re not” crap like we have here in the West. Also all men act very macho, and even this man in your example would probably act macho because that’s how most all men act over there. If you are straight and you act masculine, you are in with the Arabs and probably the Iranians.
You are correct that in our society this man would fall into the various roles you described, would likely be down and out so to speak, and he would also be widely hated and rejected. I assure you that he would be much more accepted in Iranian and Arab society!

Game/PUA: How Could Chads Possibly Hate Women?

An incel asked how Chads could possibly hate women considering how well females treat them.
My answer: It’s not that simple.
Thing is, a lot of players, playboys, and womanizers hate women.
There are two kinds of slayers.
One type hates women a lot.
The other type really, really love women. They don’t treat them very well, but they do love them.
The first type, the slayers who hate women, well, a female friend said to me about them, “Those guys hate women because they understand what women are really like.”
This is probably true. And that’s straight from a woman’s own mouth!
People don’t understand. A guy dates a couple hundred chicks or fucks a hundred chicks, and he’s seen the good side of women in spades of course. But he has been with so many women that he has also seen a lot of the evil side of women, which is about 50% of their existence.
See, a lot of whores hate men, right? Well, most whores have seen men at their worst, many, many times for years.
The life of Chad is not all golden. The Chads I knew were constantly dealing with chaos and drama, especially if they ran 2-3 chicks at once. They were lying to everyone all the time, and chicks were always screaming at them, breaking into tears, or threatening to kill them. They just laughed it off and said, “LOL! Fuck you, bitch! LOL!,” but you know it got to them. Other men were often threatening to punch them out for pump and dumping their sister or cheating on their cousin or whatever.
Yes, Chad can get lots of sex all right. But there is also a considerable downside to being a manwhore.
Chads really, really, really know women having dealt with a battalion of women over decades. Chads have seen a lot of women at their worst psychocunt behavior literally for decades and, well, they get pretty cynical about women, let’s put it that way.
But there are also the Chads who love women, and that is another story.
If you want all that pussy, you have to deal with the downside of slaying, which is squads of psychobitches going nuts, screaming at you, and threatening to kill you, platoons of guys threatening to punch you, battalions of people hating you, and it never ends.
Moral: Chads are living in Pussy Heaven, but they’re paying for it by living in Cunt Hell at the same time.
Nothing is life free! You pay for everything in life, and I do mean everything!

Game/PUA: Another Lie about Incels: Most Are Not Even Real Incels

Most Incels, especially on, are actually virgins. Worse than that, most have never even had one single date. If they have, it was often a complete catastrophe. If they have had any relationships with females at all, they were utterly Friendzoned the whole time, and they were not happy about it. Many are KHV’s (Kissless Handholdless Virgins) or KHHV’s, (Kissless Handholdless Hugless Virgins).
In fact, on, there is a big controversy over whether non-virgins should be allowed on the site at all. There are some non-virgins on there – one man in fact has had sex with 30 women at age 32 – but those are called Blackpilled Normies, and they are always very close to getting banned.
I was on myself for a while, mostly because I wanted to cheer the Incels up, help them, and offer them advice. I was revealed quite quickly as not one of them and was labeled a Blackpilled Normie, which is OK by me. There are many Normies on Incel sites who are there to be Incel allies, commiserate with the Incels, try to help them, offer them advice, etc. Those Normies should not be confused with Incels. So it is important to note that not everyone on an Incel board is actually an Incel.
A few Incels have had one or two very limited sexual encounters in their lives. They are grandfathered in on the boards.
I was banned for “bragging,” which is the fate of most any Normie posting on that board. You cannot talk about any successful experiences you have had with women – that’s all bragging, and it gets you thrown off the board. Try as I might to write my posts in accord with the policy, they kept busting me anyway.
The notion that most Incels are not really true Incels is very problematic.
These are some seriously sex-starved men who in general have shockingly or even frighteningly little sexual or romantic experience with females. They are pitiful creatures, which may or may not be outweighed by their menacing nature.

Game/PUA: The Latest Insult: "You're an Incel!"

The latest idiotic Internet insult is “You’re an incel!” Even I am getting called an incel lately. That’s laughable because I am about as far from being an incel as a man gets.
There’s nothing new here. This bullshit has been going on forever now, and feminists have always specialized in the insult, “Obviously you can’t get laid!” It also takes other forms. “Neckbeard” means much the same thing. For some reason, it is always feminists and Cultural Left types who wield the “Obviously you can’t get laid”, neckbeard, and incel insults.
For some reason, rightwingers never say this. I suppose that’s because rightwingers don’t care whether some man gets women or not because after all, it’s not that important.
The stupid thing about this insult is that Cultural Left boneheads call every man they hate a neckbeard, incel, or insist, “Obviously you can’t get laid!” Of all the retarded things to say about a human being you don’t even know! Furthermore, this is always done on the Internet, when the Cultural Left types have never met the person and know nothing about him. They read his prose and decide he can’t get laid with God’s help!
I have been reading prose on the Internet for many years now. For the life of me, I have never run across male prose that indicates to me whether a man is successful with women or not. There is no “can’t get laid” style of writing. There’s no such thing! Unless the person is discussing sex, you have no idea if he’s a 50 year old incel or if he’s closing in on Wilt Chamberlain’s record.
Similarly, you can’t diagnose mental illness much less Asperger’s Syndrome on the Internet. I work in mental health. How the Hell can I look at someone’s prose or journalism on the Net and give them a DSM diagnosis? Yet every Cultural Left idiot on Earth can diagnose mental illness better than the finest clinicians – by merely reading a simple gleaning of someone’s prose! Such geniuses!
Of course Asperger’s Syndrome (the most overdiagnosed condition in history) cannot be diagnosed on the Net. Everybody thinks they can, and everyone is always diagnosing everyone else as an “Aspie.” It’s mostly Cultural Left types calling everyone they hate an Aspie. To say this isn’t very nice to Aspies is an understatement. But no clinician can possibly diagnose AS from a snippet of prose. How the Hell can Cultural Left scum outdiagnose the world’s finest diagnosticians?
This insult “Obviously you can’t get laid!” arises from the completely false feminist belief that all men who feminists consider to be misogynists (most of us) cannot possibly get laid. In other words, if you’re a misogynist, obviously you can’t get laid to save your life.
Now I have been observing the dating scene for decades, and one thing that is clear to me is that a lot of misogynistic men get tons of sex. Even the stereotypical bad boys who treat women like crap are well known to be drowning in pussy. Many though not all womanizers are definitely misogynists. The standard male advice about women, particularly from womanizers, is, “You gotta treat women like shit.” This is all pretty awful for those of us who want to be decent men because it seems like a requirement for a successful relationship with women is abusing them.
This goes along with the typical problem of nice guys, which feminists get all wrong.

Game/PUA: The "Incels Only Want the Best Women" Lie

I am very interested in the Incel scene and I have been studying it for a while. One thing I would like to object to is the notion that these guys all want hot chicks.
There is this idea in the Incel scene that you should go for your Looksmatch. So a 5 man should go for a woman who is no more than a 5, a 3 man should go for a woman who is no more than 3, etc. Sure, you can go for better looking women, but don’t expect anything to happen. A major complaint is that hypergamy is so extreme now that men can’t even get their Looksmatches.
So this notion that Incels are unsuccessful because they all want model types belongs in the dustbin.

PUA/Game: The Incel Problem Is Clearly One of Perspective

This is really what the whole damn problem is all about.
I have a friend who is a Brahmin in India. Really smart, really nice, writer who writes books. Also very handsome. He told me he was a virgin til he married at age 32, and so was his wife of the same age. He said this was just normal in Brahmin families, and no one cared. I asked him if he ever felt inferior, lame, failed, depressed, idiotic, incompetent, or ashamed of being a 32 year old virgin, and he said of course not. I asked him if anyone made fun of him for being a 30+ virgin, and he said of course not, people don’t do that here.
It’s not so much the celibacy itself, it is the value you and society place on it. Like so many other things in life. Read some philosophy. Philosophers talk about this a lot.
It’s not the thing itself. It is the value that is placed on the thing that mattes. The thing itself has little obvious meaning in many cases.
Actually Wittgenstein came around to this in his second book. He ruled out valuation in Tractatus, assuming that humans were purely logical.
By the time Logical Investigations rolled around, he changed his mind and decided that meaning or words in language was determined by culture or society and not mathematically via some logic of observing some phenonemon and describing it. His latter position is correct. Most things are relative, spectrums are everywhere you look, and everything’s a grey area. Which is quite a liberating thought, if you dare to believe it. I agree it’s a tough meal. Close your eyes, say the Hell with it, and swallow it whole. That’s how you ingest life’s most painful and resisted truths.
You see, people hate grey areas. They hate spectrums. Mostly because people are basically stupid but also because they scare easily, and once you sort of say everything’s more or less up for grabs, you’re tossing the whole universe like a damned salad. Most people don’t want that. They want to be sure about stuff. Even if it’s bullshit, at least they can be sure of their bullshit.
Right, wrong, or indifferent, this is what I believe, and can we please move along now? Can you pass the olives, please? So where were we now, remind me? Oh yes, your vacation. Do carry on. I so want to hear about this.
Life’s not easy; it’s actually quite difficult. But humans always want to take the easy route, and why not? Life’s doesn’t make much sense, but who wants to live in the terror of a senseless universe but guys like Sartre? No one. We want things to be easy, and we want them to make sense, and facts and truth be damned, we will get what we want. Which is reasonable but sad.

PUA/Game: The Life of Chad: The Story of One Week

These incel guys (and some other blackpillers like the folks over at Lookism – a much more diverse group) do this thing called catfishing women. They put up a photo of a male model and then go on Tinder or Snapchat and see how many women they can get with it. These were all the women that this fake Chad got in only one week. Those extremely flirtatious videos and photos, including the one girl who took a video of her farm, were all sent to him by those 10 young women in a single week.
Damn! Look at all those hot young women I will never have again. Oh well. But I still want them. I want them all! Every single one of them!

I don’t want to fuck just one of you. I want to fuck all of you, dammit, every single one of you!
– Sid Vicious, Longhorn Ballroom, 1978, US tour.

Jesus Christ. Is this because of Tinder? Because it was never like this before. Even in my Chadly days of yore, it was never this easy.
Could this Chad actually have a harem of all ten of those women? From my experience, I would say no. The thing about women is, no woman wants to be “the other woman” or worse, “one of many.” They all want to be the only one.

PUA/Game: Why Are PUA Types So Reactionary?

Sisera: Lindsay,
Why do a lot of the PUA types turn to reactionary politics?
I mean realistically the only way they might find a woman (specifically, gold-diggers) is if they get rich.
But if you’re in your 20’s working a low paying job, aren’t you more concerned about even having money to save in order to get rich and not getting taxed heavily 20 years down the road?
So it seems Roosh might sell false hope. That’s why these incel mass shooters visit sites like “PUA hate”.
BTW, TRASH is now a favorite on Return of Kings. Check it out.

First things first.

Why do a lot of the PUA types turn to reactionary politics?

I don’t know except the Cultural Left is now completely feministed and cucked as far as men and masculinity are concerned. I mean men are the enemy, masculinity is toxic, gay, bi and trans guys are the greatest thing since sliced bread, on and on.
And the Cultural Left really really hate PUA and Game, which to me is insane because all Game is is the Science of Seduction. What the Hell is wrong with seduction for Chrissake? I mean men have been trying to figure out how to get women for millennia now. Check out a famous book called On Love written by the famous Roman writer Seneca. It could be called How to Pick up Girls in Rome in 200 BC. Men have been doing this PUA/Game stuff forever. It’s part of the natural, normal behavior of human men.
Back in the 1970’s and even 1980’s, the pickup/Game scene was all around liberal men. Hef, Bob Guccione, Al Goldstein, and Larry Flynt were all liberal Democrats. Almost everyone in the porn industry was a liberal Democrat, and that’s true to this very day. Back then, being on the liberal/Left implied a “libertine, do it in the streets” mindset.
Now the Left has been taken over by feminists and faggots, it hates straight men, especially straight White men (though fags can take as many fists up their ass as they want, and it’s all good). The Left is all Sex-Negative Feminism now. It’s #metoo bullshit, the sexual harassment weapon on steroids (the worst weapon we ever gave women), ever-expanding definitions of rape, rape culture bullshit, patriarchy bullshit, insane consent rules that force all straights who want to have sex to act like shy, uncertain virgns.
I mean it really seems like the Left doesn’t want us men to get laid at all. It doesn’t even want us to try to get laid, since if we flirt with women, ask for the numbers or for dates or even look a them God forbid, we’re guilty of Sexual Misconduct (What sort of Orwellian nonsense is a concept like that?), Sexual Harassment, maybe Sexual Assault, or Rape, and someone needs to call the cops on us or put a restraining order on us to protect women from our evil roaming eyeballs and flapping lips.
Considering that the Left is now so hostile and hate-filled towards straight men, who can blame them for going reactionary?
On the other hand, the situation we have right now is that it is the rightwingers of all people who are singing the praises of Sexual Liberation and the Sexual Revolution, and the Left wants to roll the clock back to the 1880’s where we put stockings on piano legs. The Modern Left is the precise opposite of all those things we fought for in the Sexual Revolution, one of the great liberation movements of the 1960’s. We’ve turned into the uptight squares we used to mock and hate. It’s pathetic.

“I mean, realistically, the only way they might find a woman (specifically, gold-diggers) is if they get rich.
But if you’re in your 20s working a low paying job, aren’t you more concerned about even having money to save in order to get rich, and not getting taxed heavily 20 years down the road?”

This mindset never made sense to me. All politics is class politics. Low income people should be class conscious. What you describe is the typical phenomenon in the US known as false consciousness.
I would like to point out that I have been getting 7-10’s, hot women, even model types, within my age bracket at least, ever since I was 17 years old, and I’ve never had two nickels to rub together. Hell, my girlfriends have been paying my way most of my life. I’m not proud of that, although the gigolo image is cool, really I would much rather have at least been paying my own way. A girlfriend recently broke up with a long relationship with me and she said, “All I got was a cup of coffee and a card!” I can’t put into words what a piece of crap I felt like when I read that.
On the other hand, I’ve always Chad or at least Chadlite, even to this day, and whatever the rules of love and sex are for most men, Chad breaks them all. The rules simply do not apply to Chad. He’s the exception to every rule out there, and he’s living proof of Looks Theory and the Black Pill.

So it seems Roosh might sell false hope.

Roosh is obviously a horrible human being. Of course he’s a snake oil selling con artist. All these PUA guys are.

That’s why these incel mass shooters visit sites like “PUA Hate”.

Still in business as Slut Hate. The PUA idiots like the execrable Roosh are selling a fraudulent product called Game, so of course a lot of people who bought the product and got ripped off are pissed. Hence PUA Hate for the victims of the PUA fraud. And by the way, these incels are as bad as Roosh or probably worse. Nevertheless, I feel very sorry for them, and I do feel sorry at all for Rooshbag. He’s one of the most hateable people I can think of.

BTW, TRASH is now a favorite on Return of Kings.

Well, that’s no surprise. They had previously banned for, well, simply being Trash is the best way to put it, but I guess they let him back on. To be fair he’s in his element. Most of the douchebags over there are about as narcissistic as he is.

Check it out.

Better not. Every time I go there I want to smash my computer screen. Monitors are expensive.
I can’t put into words how much I hate those people. They’re just horrible, as bad as Trump.

Game/PUA: The Only Reason Men Are Incels Is Due to Their Personality

C’mon, these guys have crappy personalities! They’re awful people. If they were just decent people, they could get women. They think it’s their looks, but it’s not their looks, dammit! It’s their shit personalities, and nothing else. Incels are horrible human beings. That’s why no one wants them. Looks have nothing to do with it.
The number one rule of Game is that Looks don’t matter. They are completely irrelevant. As long as you have great Game, you can get as many women as you want. Repeat: Looks has nothing to do with success with women.

Go ahead cucks, blame his personality. I dare ya!

Game/PUA: From Alpha to Omega in Four Easy Decades

I finally see now how incels feel because I have virtually become Omega simply due to my age.
I realize that this is just the normal way that life is, but it still hurts. The problem is I still see myself as That Guy. I see young women all the time who would be checking me out, flirting with me, or at least looking at my younger self, and now they act like I’m a ghost.
My former life varied from Normie to Failed Normie to various species of Chad. According to one definition of the term, I’ve been Alpha for a lot of my life. I was also incel for various periods which ended after variable lengths of time. I was actually legendary neighborhood Chad at one point. Other men almost worshiped me like a God. I kept hearing, “How the Hell do you do it? I will never understand how you get all these chicks. This is one thing I will never understand. Like that. It’s a great way to live. If you can live like that for even one month or maybe even one week, you can just about die happy the next day because you would have gotten everything you wanted out of life.
Fast forward and I am now 60 years old. I am now invisible to 99% of women on Earth. Even women in their 50’s won’t date me because once you have that 6 in front of your age as opposed to 5, you are now old. Usually only women 60+ will date me, but a lot of them look like monsters or wild animals that escaped from the zoo. My hardons are a bit iffy nowadays anyway, but how I could get it up for one of these wildebeests is beyond me.
All my life, women have been looking at me, flirting with me, smiling at me, going into robot frozen stares at me (Game pro tip: that means you’re making her horny and she wants to have sex with you). I am used to this. It’s just the normal every day.
Well, now that’s gone. All the sex has been sucked out of my world. Almost no woman flirts with me ever, not for one second. Even the slightest bit of flirting that I try is coldly shot down. There is no possibility of sexual anything, even flirtation, in my day to day life. Almost no woman even looks at me anymore.
Sometimes they look at me and smile, but I think that is just to say, “You’re old but you’re normal, so I will smile at you.” Problem is if I go to talk to her after she smiled at me, she often acts outraged. A lot of  they nearly fly backwards when I try to talk to them. Their attitude is, “How dare you fucking try to talk to me!” You see, I have no right to talk to them, or to talk to any woman, ever, for the rest of my life, I guess. Because age.
I also get these, “How dare you ever fucking look at me, old man!” looks sometimes. I can’t even look at these cunts.
Sometimes I will look at a woman, and she will almost fly backwards like, “I can’t believe you’re even looking at me, you gross old man!” Then if I talk to them, they fly backwards some more like, “You’re talking to me! I can’t believe it!”
Probably because I am still halfway normal, and I still have 100% of my excellent Game skills (said Game which is now nearly completely useless due to age), they calm down, mention something about a husband, boyfriend, or fiance, and that’s that’s all I need to know. They are usually quite polite about it when they mention the husband or boyfriend. I do appreciate them letting me know so I don’t waste my time.
I said my Game is worthless. It is worthless, and my Game is kick-ass, or used to be anyway. But Game without Looks and $1.79 will get you a Slurpee at a 7-11 and not much else. In other words, Game -Looks is just about worthless. I’m so tired of  all the PUA’s; “All you need is Game. Looks are not important.” They’re all fraudsters selling snake oil.
I still date young women sometimes, even all the way down to teenage girls if I get really lucky. I have no idea how I still get teenage girls because it’s impossible to do at my age. Apparently I am violating the laws of physics somehow. Problem is these girls and even young women up to late 20’s end up ending the relationship after 5-12 weeks.
When they end it, they more or less tell me I am ugly. I am getting told that a lot now. Specifically, they say they are not attracted to me. The painful thing about that is that no woman ever said that to me until I got into my 50’s. They broke up with me for all sorts of reasons, but none ever said they were not attracted to me. And no women who decided not to date me ever said she was not attracted to me. I did hear, “You’re not my type,” but that’s not necessarily insulting.
I sometimes date young women, even models. The last one was good for five weeks, and then she ended it, saying I did not turn her on. In other words, I am ugly.
She spent 24 hours in my hotel room recently and even spent the night in my bed. She acted like I was radioactive and went so far to the edge of the bed she looked like she might fall off. I had to go over to my edge. She freaked out and visibly flinched any time I even barely touched her. She wouldn’t even snuggle up next to me or kiss me a bit.
I took off my clothes because I sleep naked in the summer. She saw me naked and she freaked out like she saw a ghost and threw the covers over her eyes. I’ve never felt so ugly in my life. That was literally the worst night of my life. I have never felt so ugly, unattractive, and unwanted. The feeling is so devastating it is hard to put into words.
I hire maids, usually illegal aliens, to clean my place. I always try to seduce them because I am a disgusting pig who generally tries to seduce any woman unlucky enough to get stuck in my apartment. They’ve all been blowing me off, but sometimes I at least get to feel their bodies a bit through their clothes before they start laughing and push me away.
But last spring, I finally had some success! I got one of my maids to take a shower with me (she was homeless). I told her she needed a shower as she was homeless, and she agreed. Of course it was a ruse just to get her into the shower so I could climb in with her. She went into the bathroom and started disrobing. I went in after her without saying a word. I didn’t say a word, just started disrobing myself. She didn’t say anything. She got in the shower and I jumped in right afterwards. She protested for a few seconds, but then she calmed down. I kept grabbing her the whole time I was in the shower because, well, that’s what you do when you’re naked in the shower with a woman, right?
She kept knocking me away the whole time in the shower, but I did get to bang her a bit for 5-10 seconds, which made it all worthwhile. Then the cunt dared to walk around my apartment naked for two hours! I was grabbing at her the whole time of course because that’s obviously what you do when you have a naked woman wandering about your place, right? She kept pushing me away. After a while she got pissed. I kept grabbing at her anyway. My attitude was, “You don’t want to me grab you? You can put some fucking clothes on baby!” My apartment is enemy territory, ladies!
Finally I caught her shooting speed in my dining room, stark naked. That was it. Out she goes.
This whole episode also felt very bad. A naked woman strolling around my place for two hours and refusing to do anything sexual with me. How humiliating!
With a lot of women at stores, I can only have the most minimal conversations. Any time I get into anything remotely personal other than (“Here is my order”), they act weird, uncomprehending, or anxious, and either stop listening or ignore me. Women ignore me when I try to talk to them all the time now. It can’t tell you how bad that feels.
I can’t look at high school girls at all anymore, and I’ve been looking at them my whole life. Now if I look at them, I get these pure hate looks in return. I have no right to look at JB’s!
I get conversational hard shutdowns constantly.
I so miss being treated like I am attractive by women, women looking at me, smiling, winking, flirting, checking me out, going into zombie stares. I long for that every day, and every day it never happens. I am coming to the horrible conclusion that maybe I am ugly after all. Since age 18, people have been raving over how good-looking I was (especially in my 20’s). It was like everyone wanted me, girls, women, and even men (faggots). Now no one wants me. I think I still look good though because a lot of older women say I still look good.
So this is how it feels. This is what being an Omega is like. This is what these poor incels go through every day of their miserable lives, all day long. Fuck. It’s holy depressing as all get out. It would be infuriating too if I did not have my past to fall back on, so it doesn’t make me angry. But I can see how it would enrage a man. I’m just choosing not to get enraged.
I get it. I see why incels commit suicide. In fact, I don’t see how any of them don’t commit suicide. These guys deserve some credit just for hanging in there and carrying on.
And I even understand why they go ER, although of course I cannot support that. It’s amazing more guys haven’t gone ER. I don’t see how there’s only been a few.
People must have an awful lot of self-control.
I’m not surprised at all that so many of these incels hate women.
When you are like this, women more or less treat you like serious crap all the time, 24-7, day in and day out as the years stretch on. Well, after months or years of being treated like crap full time by women…it’s obvious that a man would start to hate them, right? I mean why not? Why not hate people who treat you like crap and act like they hate you? Hate makes hate, right? You hit a man enough times, he might just start hitting back, right?
I think I actually get off easy, as women are still very nice to me if I keep it to “Here is my order.” Some of them even call me by name. A lot of women in stores still smile at me when they see me (except I am not allowed to talk to them). Some will even talk to me casually (except no 1% even hint of flirtation).
I’ve heard that these incel guys don’t even get smiles from women! Good God. How could anyone live like that?

Game/PUA: George Orwell on Incels

The second great evil of a Tramp’s life – it seems much smaller at first sight, but it is a good second – is that he is entirely cut off from contact with women. This point needs elaborating. Tramps are cut off from women, in the first place, because there are very few women at their level of society.
One might imagine that among the destitute people the sexes would be as equally balanced as elsewhere. But it is not so; in fact, one can almost say that below a certain level society is entirely male. The following figures, publishes by the L.C.C. from a night census taken February 13th, 1931, will show the relative numbers of destitute men and destitute women:
(Figures from shelters, churches, casual wards, and hostels follow)
It will be seen from these figures that at the charity level men outnumber women by something like ten to one. The cause is presumably that unemployment affects women less than men; also that any presentable woman can, in the last resort, attach herself to some man. The result, for a tramp, is that he is condemned to perpetual celibacy.
For of course it goes without saying that if a tramp finds no women at his own level, those above – even a very little above – are as far out of reach as the moon. The reasons are not worth discussing, but there is little doubt that women never, or hardly ever, condescend to men who are much poorer than themselves. A tramp, therefore, is a celibate from the moment when he takes to the road. Having no hope at all of securing a wife, a mistress, or any kind of woman except – very rarely when he can raise a few shillings – a prostitute. It is obvious what the results of this must be: homosexuality, for instance, and the occasional rape cases.
But deeper than these is the degradation worked in a man who knows that he is not even considered fit for marriage. The sexual impulse, not to put it any higher, is a fundamental impulse, and starvation of it can be almost as demoralizing as physical hunger. The evil of poverty is not so much that it makes a man suffer as that it rots him physically and spiritually. And there can be no doubt that sexual starvation contributes to the rotting process. Cut off from the whole race of women, a tramp finds himself degraded to the rank of a cripple or a lunatic. No humiliation could do more damage to a man’s self-respect.
George Orwell, Down and Out in Paris and London, Chapter 36. (1933)

From George Orwell to Eliot Rodger, and not an inch of space between them. And speaking of Paris…
Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose, n’est-ce pas?

How Do I Become Asexual or Permanently Freed from Sexual Desire?

There are some drugs out there that will kill your sex drive pretty well. Either that or wait until you are my age (60), and your sex drive will go away on its own whether you want it to or not!
Realistically though, some men have gone off to monasteries for this reason. As far as turning off the very physical drive though, good luck with that!

Sluthate, Incels, Etc.

From the Net, a commenter opines on Sluthate and related sites and the incel phenomenon in general:

Chasing women around like dogs and failing at it hundreds of times before one or two say yes – that’s what traditional masculinity thinks being a “real” man is all about. I feel sorry for these angry Omega males.
Come to think of it, White Nationalists are some of the biggest Beta males ever, angry too.

Actually I rather like Sluthate. It’s like a PUA site without all the cocky arrogant, strutting roosters, tools, dicks, jerks and especially douchebags who ruin those sites. You can get the same advice on Sluthate as you can on the PUA sites, and actually these poor angry Omegas are much less offensive to me than the jerkoffs strutting around on your average PUA site, who I usually feel like punching in the face. These Omegas are sad, but hey, life is sad. So I can relate. Life’s not supposed to be easy, and it’s isn’t.
I feel sorry for those angry Omegas myself. I have had a lot of success with women but there have also been dry spells where I couldn’t get date with God’s help, so I can sort of relate to what these guys are going through. Anyway, most single men are incel periodically anyway. How many single men can get sex anytime they want without paying for it, year in and year out, every day of the year? Hell, a lot of married men can’t even do that.
I would say that the natural state of man, at least single man, is Periodic Incel. After all, that’s why men get married. You are supposed to get married in order to get steady sex. If you ask a lot of men and they answer honestly, this is what they will tell you.
This is why there is so much pressure on single men to get married: it is seen as the road to lots of sex. Single life is seen as idiotic loserdom: bachelor life = no pussy. That’s not necessarily true, but it does seem to be true that it is hard to get a regular and steady supply of sex year in and year out without buying it if you are a single man.

Alpha Fucks, Beta Bucks

Some commenters here have ridiculed my articles on this incel phenomenon, saying there’s no evidence that things are any different now than when we were growing up 30-50 years ago. From the article:

Ongoing US research shows more adults aged 20-24 report having no sexual partner than those at the same age group born in the 60s, 70s and 80s.

Ahh, how interesting. But what about those of us born in the 50’s? Oh that’s right. We aren’t having sex anymore! Silly me.
No wait! They mean us back when we were young, when I was 20-24 years old. I remember that! The breeze would blow, and I would get an erection.
Wait. Erection. What’s that word? I’m not sure what it means. Hang out while I fish out my dictionary and look up the definition, and then I’ll get back to you in a bit, ok?

Back! Refreshed my memory!
Now the evidence comes out, and R9k, Sluthate, Lookism, Forever Alone, Elliot Rodger, George Sodini and all rest were actually onto something. Some guys are cleaning up passing home plate, and a lot of others, standing there in the back bench looking stupid with their dicks in the hands, are getting fuck all.
I’m not really involved with the young people scene much these days because it’s hard as pulling hen’s teeth to get a woman aged 18-30 to go out with me – or even to get her to look at me for that matter. So I am sort of watching from the bleachers here with my binoculars with the rest of us Old School Guys at the young guys trying to get to 3rd base at least in the Game down below. Pass the popcorn. Thanks!
Roissy, Roosh V and the rest of the motley crew are complete tools, and I despise them, but they did manage to tune in to the right station, hear the message and clue the rest of us in.
Things are different.
Damn. So when does the Beta Uprising start? I need to know so I can duck and cover.


This is out of the incel community, where I first heard the word manlet. They make a big deal out of their theory that being short is deadly for men. I do not know. Back in the 1970’s and 1980’s, I knew some short guys and one very good short friend, and they all did fantastic with females. Of course they were both very good looking, and two of them were very hot surfers who were for all intents and purposes Alphas
I think this chart is a bit off. According to the chart, I am in the zone where, without a pretty face, I am doomed. However, not one person has ever called me short in my life, and indeed I have had a number of very tall girlfriends, including two who were 5’11 and one who was 6’0. In fact, a recent very good girlfriend who was nuts in love with me was 5’11. So they were all three at least as tall as I am and one was even taller, and none of them seemed to care.
But that chart may not be relevant for my generation. Is it possible that this new young generation is even taller than my generation? Are Americans born in the 1990s’ actually taller than those born in the 1950’s? If so, by how much?
What do you think? Is being short a liability for men these days?
This whole issue is rather sad if it is true, but that poster sure is funny.

Click to enlarge. Humorous meme mashup on short men.

On Incel Women

Steve writes:

There are also women who are not getting laid or in relationships throughout their 20’s. Yes, you may say they could offer themselves up and get laid easily but they don’t have that kind of personality or the desire for one night stands. There are incel women but they don’t make a fuss about it like testosterone fueled incel men. Men are more prone to rage.

I do not have a lot of sympathy for incel women. Incel men pretty much say they just want to have sex with a woman, period, and their requirements for such a woman are rather low. There is a Reddit sub called Foreveralone Women, and if you go there, you lose sympathy for them very quickly. It is just the typical female complaint of “no good men.” Also I would argue that an incel woman has probably not experienced a lot of rejection by men. I doubt if she has approached 3,000 men and got rejected by all of them. Yet incel men often wrack up huge rejection numbers.

Incel women could get a man any time they want to but only for their pickiness. Lots of women go without sex for long periods of time. I have known women who went without sex with up to 7-8 years and I dated a woman not too long ago who had not had sex in 4 years. It’s quite common actually. Most women going long periods without sex don’t seem to really care all that much. It sort of bugs some of the younger ones, but it’s just not the same thing.

Basically, women can go without; they do it all the time, and it’s no huge deal. Men can’t. Incel is much more painful for a man than for a woman.

The Reality of the Incel Situation and the Benefits of Game

Steve writes:

Like I’ve said before, I feel sorry for these guys. Just like some men are so handsome, many women will like them regardless of game, there are men who have tried a lot and not had success, maybe never even kissed a girl or found a girl who was attracted to them. That is why they resent game and they have a point, in regard to themselves.Its certainly not impossible for them to meet someone but they often have developed a very negative attitude, let their presentation deteriorate and are really down on themselves. They need a different sort of coaching to PUA I think. Something gentler, more encouraging, more realistic for them.

However, a lot of what they say is wrong. They have a distorted view and exaggerate to an extreme when they say that only the top 10-20% of men can attract women and in future such elite men will have harems etc. That’s nonsense.

The standard PUA line you see on the Internet is utter shit. Although there is good stuff to be learned there and I do go them from time to time learn, those sites are all run by the biggest assholes on Earth and they are very intimidating. I usually can stand to read maybe one article before I want to vomit or smash the screen.

On the other hand, the incel sites are full of some seriously maladapted men. Their main problem seems to be rage. Most of them are mean as snakes and they don’t grant anybody anyway leeway. They seem to attack everyone around them. Also their notions of what an attractive man or woman is are insane. There are women I would call 10’s who these incel clowns insist are 6’s. In other words, these are the pickiest men on the Earth when it comes to women’s looks, and honestly, these are the men who logically have the least right of all to be picky. They can’t get laid with God’s help, but their standards for an attractive woman are worse than a modeling agency. Ridiculous.

Really most to all men could use help or techniques to help them attract, get and keep women. Hell, I could use some myself.

Game Works

I am always reading this stuff to try to up my Game, and trust me, Game works! At least for me it does. It’s not all down to looks! There are times when I am low, miserable and down and just hate the world. My looks are the same as ever, but when I go out with that mindset, I can’t get one woman on Earth to even acknowledge that I exist.

I have no idea what I look like anymore, but I am probably not attractive to most young women. Nevertheless, if I add some killer Game to whatever my looks are, the whole world changes and even high school girls start checking me out. It is the utter opposite of the situation above when I am a ghost.

Nevertheless I think there is some base level of attractiveness above which Game can work and below which all the Game in the world is about useless. Game probably acts as a “force multiplier” and adds (or doesn’t add) to whatever you start with.

It would be nice to have some sites up to help guys get girls that were not run by PUA dicks or incel psychos.

Even the incels say that most of them could get a woman if they only set their standards low enough. Most of the guys on the incel sites say all they want is a looks-matched woman. In other words, there are guys on there who are objectively 5’s and 6’s who say they would settle for a 5+ or 6+ woman, and they can’t even get that. They say the best they can do is a 3. I hear this stuff all the time. These guys could get hambeasts and landwhales, but they don’t want them, and who could blame them?

Take the Black Pill

This is a video from one of the most popular posters on the Robot9000 board on 4chat where the Oregon shooter may have posted before he did his dastardly deed.

I would listen in particular to the section from 14:00-16:00 where he predicts a pre-civilizational future where the top men amass harems of 10-15 women each and the rest of the men get none. It sounds crazy but…

The feminists, the male feminists, the blue pillers, the SJW’s, the Left, almost all women, and quite a few men flat out say that all of these incels are imagining things. There is no Alpha, Beta, Omega, etc. It’s all made up pseudoscience. There is no Game, or if there is, it is pseudoscience that doesn’t even work. All these incels have brought this matter on themselves. The feminists say that all they have to do is bathe regularly, practice good hygiene, get some decent clothes, work out, get a job and act halfway normal and they will find a woman just like that. Their whole problem is a lousy attitude.

Yet there is a very important question at stake here. Has the Sexual Marketplace indeed changed since the 1960’s, 70’s, 80’s and even beyond. I certainly don’t recall anything like these mass incel movements before. We never saw anything like this in the 70’s and 80’s. Sure there were guys who couldn’t get laid to save their lives, but they were not common and everyone assumed they were bringing it on themselves. Of course there were many fat and homely men of all sorts, but most of them seemed to be able to find a similar woman with ease. There was no talk of Chad Thundercock, incels,  Game, hypergamy, PUA gurus, PUA bootcamps or any of that. Now these things may well have existed, but no one was talking about them.

According to the the feminists, the male feminists, the blue pillers, the SJW’s, the Left, almost all women, and quite a few men absolutely nothing whatsoever has changed about the Sexual Marketplace between the 70’s and today. All of these clowns could go get a woman anytime they want to. In other words, they are imagining all of this. They’re hallucinating. They’re making it up. They’re getting all upset about something that’s not even real.

And yet…and yet…I can’t help thinking that the Sexual Marketplace has indeed changed since the 1980’s. I also have a nagging feeling that these poor, lost, forlorn men may well be onto something. I know the Game/PUA guys are onto something.* I am frightened that there is more than a grain of truth to  what they say and on some level, they may be complaining about some real phenomenon that is manifesting itself as a substantially changed Sexual Marketplace. I don’t think they are making this stuff up or hallucinating. And sadly, I don’t think they could get a woman by snapping their fingers either.

Everybody thinks that when I write about this stuff, I am complaining. I’m not. However, aspects of the incel movement resonate with me as a longterm bachelor who experienced the feast or famine of the dating world. I’ve had some incel periods myself and in those times, I can see myself in the faces of these poor sods. But to answer the question, no I am not complaining? Why should I? All indications are that if this phenomenon exists, I’ve been benefiting from it since age 17.

If this is some real new sociosexual phenomenon, I think it might be interesting for some bright minds and scholars to look into it. Right now all the work is being done by amateurs. The scholars are all ignoring the phenomenon and claiming it doesn’t exist. But it would be nice to get at least a conversation going about this subject.

As usual, I have no solutions. It is erroneous to think that life is full of solutions. Most chronic human problems are more or less unsolvable. Apparently most people can’t bear the thought of that, and this is why you always see people going on and on about how to “solve” this or that problem. It’s a delusion, a defense against the painful truth that on a lot of levels, we’re pretty much screwed and there’s not a thing to be done about it.

* I know for a fact that Roissy and the rest of the dirtbag PUA’s are onto something. This “Game” stuff is nothing new. These guys haven’t discovered anything. Sure, they have come up with some nice theory, but there are no groundbreaking new discoveries. I and most of my friends figured out this “Game” stuff back in the 1970’s when I first started dating. It’s nothing but the timeless wisdom of ages that men have always used as tools of seduction and understanding the female mind. Female nature now is the same as it’s been for 2,000 years.

New Incel Site: Lookism


They are claiming that they are better than Sluthate, but I am not so sure. So many posters there seem angry. It almost seems as if they hate everything. The general vibe of both sites is one of contemptuous hostility, apathy, boredom, depression, hopelessness, futility and I am not sure what else, but it is a lot worse on Lookism than on Sluthate. A vague sense of suicidality lingers over both sites. It seems like they just want to tear everything down to the lowest common denominator, and they don’t see much value in anything. I go there, and I want to leave due to all of the anger and negativity.

If these guys aren’t getting any women, it’s not doing them any favors to be so pissed off like this.

If you want to know why I go there, I am getting really into this Game stuff now. Yes, you can go to standard Red Pill/Game/PUA sites, but the crowd there is so awful that it feels like a punch in the face. I do not like the hyper-aggressive, super-competitive, bragging, ultra-macho, snarky, mean, vicious cockbreaths that infest those sites.

You can also go to PUA gurus’ sites, but those also bother me because I don’t like to read sites written by Joe Cool who’s got his shit together and has life dicked. Hyper-confident, cocky super-optimists get on my nerves. They hardly seem human.

I would actually rather read Game stuff at the incel sites because those folks are mostly just pitiful, and they don’t seem too aggressive or arrogant. Yes, they are pitiful, but they are also humble.

Those of you who couldn’t care less about the subject of male/female relationships might want to leave because this is something I want to explore for a while now. Not just Game but the whole dynamics of male/female romantic sexual relationships, what each gender likes, what attracts and turns them on and even more importantly, what turns them off. How to succeed and blow it with women and why things work or fail.

Women’s minds are all about relationships, so they might find interesting fodder here. Of course, I am mostly interested in how men can get women and not the other way around, but I suppose female commenters can discuss what they like or don’t like in a man.

I have long felt that there needs to be Game for Women or Women’s Game sites, all about what men are like, what we are all about, what we like and don’t like, how to turn us on and off, how to blow it or succeed with us, etc. I know young women who tell me that they have been failing in relationships with men forever, and they haven’t a clue why. At Game for Women sites, women who are having problems attracting or keeping good men around could lay out their situation, and the other women could brainstorm to try to give them some good advice.

I would rather write about this than the toxic race stuff that gets people screaming racist at me all day long. That’s very tiring, and there’s not much to be done about America’s racial problems anyway except maybe quit importing more of the problem. Beyond that, I throw up my hands like I do about a lot of things.

Most societal problems have no real solution!

What Is This Man Doing Wrong?

From here. Very interesting article. What did he do wrong?

Why Hasn’t Game Worked?

Hello everyone. I’m in a unique situation. My purpose in writing this thread is to identify the problem so I can solve it. It’s not to whine or complain. It might seem that way, and if it does, then forgive me, I’m really sincerely trying to solve the issues here.

My situation is that I’ve been practicing Game (not just learning or ‘studying’, but actively going out and doing) for the past ten years. I first found the red pill in the form of David D at the age of 17, and I’m 28 now. For that entire time, I’ve been doing everything I’m supposed to do: I’ve done astronomical amounts of approaches on a consistent basis in all sorts of settings both daytime and nighttime.

I’ve read up on different schools of Game, tried many out, kept a journal of my interactions, reviewed what I did right and what I could improve on, and generally conquered every woman-related fear that I could identify.

My philosophy on Game and life in general could pretty much be summed up as follows: “If you’re afraid of it, all the more reason to go and do it.” I feel that whatever’s blocking me from getting laid inevitably has to do with fear – and so if I keep noticing fears and promptly taking the courage to overcome them, then eventually all of that fear-conquering will lead to improvement in my life.

And as a result, I have almost no approach anxiety. I overcame approach anxiety years ago. I can approach just about any girl in just about any place. It’s no longer an issue for me. I even used to have friends and wingmen point out the most difficult sets, and I’d approach them just to prove to myself that I wasn’t afraid and to prove that hesitation and fear weren’t the reasons for why I wasn’t getting female affection.

But despite all of the work I’ve put in, I have nothing to show. I’m a virgin with the exception of times I hired prostitutes, which comes out to a grand total of 5 times. I haven’t had sex with any girl who wasn’t ‘working’.

I am not a troll. I am a man who has put in the time and work and courage to improve my life. It just hasn’t worked. And I’m trying to figure out why.

When I heard about Elliot Rodger, something in me changed. Things are serious now. I can see myself turning into him eventually if this problem isn’t solved. I’ve read the first 90 pages of the manifesto, and it’s like reading my own autobiography.

The way he describes the utter hopelessness he feels and the jealousy was like hearing my own story told back to me. The only difference between me and him is that I always believed in the possibility of success, and I went out and took the active steps necessary to achieve it. I put in the work, and I took the risks.

Oh, and I’m not a racist. And I never had any interest in guns. And I played AOE instead of WOW…But everything else, it’s like we had the same life.

I’m currently applying for English teaching jobs overseas, so I can get a girlfriend based on the Murr’kin factor, i.e. socioeconomic status. But I’m concerned that this might not work as well as I expect it to.

I’m concerned that whatever the “issue” is with my Game is going to follow me wherever I go. In another country I’m sure I’ll get dates. I may get hookups. I might even get sex. But it’ll be based on money, status, and nationality – and how long will it be before the girl starts to play me, use me, dig for gold, etc? How long before my lack of skill with women catches up to me?

I want to figure out what the #$%^ing issue is.

So I’ve written a story about my life from the beginning up until the present with a focus on girls and Game. I’m sure there’s a pattern in there, which one of you experts can pick out, and be like “I found your problem!” At least I’m hoping for that.

My story is both inspiring and heartbreaking, hopeful and hopeless, enraging and highly comical, all at the same time. It will elicit mad props in one sentence, pity in the next, and raucous laughter not far behind. I think you will enjoy it.

So without further ado, here it is. Tell me what you think.

I was born in 1985 and had a reasonably happy childhood. There were no major financial or familial disruptions, no poverty, war, disease, or sudden loss. I’m pretty sure that some of my parents’ behavior bordered on abusive, but that can be said of almost everyone in this society.

As a kid, I mostly played videogames and romped around the house with friends – I didn’t care much for sports. People described me as strong-willed, highly intelligent, and cute. I never got into trouble in school (although, looking back, I fucking wish I had!). I got a lot of toys, and my parents bought me pretty much whatever I wanted within reason. We were middle class, Jewish, and lived in a cookie-cutter neighborhood in the northwestern suburbs of Baltimore, MD.

My interests were mostly of a nerdy nature and involved games and computers – although I was never really identified as a “nerd” outright. I was never identified with any particular subculture. I didn’t really care about fitting in or being popular. I just wanted to have fun and live my life.

All of my friends were male, and I never had any female friends (something that persists up until the present day). But in elementary school, I didn’t care. Girls were like a foreign species; they weren’t interested in the things I liked, and I didn’t see any reason to want to hang out with them.

When I got to middle school, that started to change, as I started to feel attraction and desire for girls. It was in 6th grade that I experienced my first crush: a petite, slightly mousy little blonde with freckles. I had no idea how to get close to her, so I basically just admired her from afar while hoping that fate would somehow bring us together.

I was extremely afraid of the social repercussions for ‘liking’ a girl who didn’t like me back, so I was careful to never show that I ‘liked’ her. Whenever I saw her in class or the hallways, I would look at her as much as I could but would always look away if she looked in my direction.

Eventually I asked one of my gossipy, “in-crowd” friends to find out if she liked me by asking her friends. He did as I asked and inquired with her friends, and he reported back “No”, she said she didn’t like me. And the result was quite dramatic – the girl came into class the next day red-faced and embarrassed, and everyone was looking at me with a strange look – a combination of laughter, derision, shock, and, “Oh boy, look what you did, you’re in big trouble.” I felt totally ashamed and couldn’t even look at her anymore.

I dreaded the classes that I had with her. Despite this, a few weeks later at the ice skating rink (the popular gathering place for kids after school), I approached her on the ice and tried to start a conversation. She just stared off into space and shook her head, not even making eye contact with me. But at least I tried. Even back then, I was consciously overcoming my fears and taking risks.

In 7th grade, I developed a crush on another girl. This time I learned from my mistakes and decided to ask the girl out directly without going through a third party. This girl was a little bit more outgoing then the previous one, and I had already had several conversations with her in various contexts.

So one day after the bell as everyone was going home, I approached her at her locker and asked her out on a date. She said no. But she was tactful about it at least. I still remember the walk home after that, feeling a mix of both pride and disappointment. I was proud of myself for taking the risk but disappointed that it didn’t lead anywhere. This pattern would become very prominent in the following years.

I don’t remember having any crushes in 8th grade. This was the time when I actually entered puberty. The two previous crushes were of an emotional nature – they were cute, and I wanted to be close to them because the thought of it felt warm and lovey. It was emotional but not sexual because I didn’t have any sexual desires yet.

But in 8th grade I had my first ejaculation, and I started to be attracted to girls sexually. I remember sitting in my seat, and whenever girls would walk by me up close, I would almost cream in my pants just from their presence a couple feet away. I remember running home as fast as I could to masturbate.

My dad was a collector of Playboy magazines, and I started using those. I was both bewildered and resentful of those images. I obviously enjoyed the feeling of sexual release, but I resented the fact that it seemed to be bugging me all the frigging time, and I couldn’t focus on my books and computer games anymore cause the damn magazines were calling me all fucking day!

In 9th grade, I started to become aware that other guys had girlfriends and I didn’t, but this didn’t really bother me all that much. I would have preferred to have a girlfriend, and I made some attempts here and there, but it wasn’t the main thing on my mind. My main interests were computer games (Age of Empires II), fantasy novels (LOTR, WoT), other assorted nerdy things, and politics (I had become a passionate environmentalist).

I did ask a girl to the Homecoming Dance though. She was a friend of my one of my friends, and I sat down to eat lunch with her and asked her to the dance. She declined. I was a little upset, but it wasn’t devastating. I picked up and continued my nerd hobbies. This mindset persisted through 10th grade, which was the final year in which I would identify myself as “happy.”

In the summer between 10th and 11th grades, I played an RPG called Final Fantasy IX on the PlayStation. In this game, the main protagonist slowly develops a relationship with a princess who joins the team and fights alongside him in the adventure. Through their trials, they grow closer to one another, and I felt the first tastes of what an actual relationship was like.

The entire time I was fighting monsters and solving puzzles and watching worlds be destroyed and the very fabric of time and space being bent, all I really thought about was how awesome it felt to be doing it all alongside a really cute princess!

The game is approximately 40 hours long, and I finished it in 4 days, so the intensity was definitely ramped up by that – and when I was finished, I felt a profound feeling that I had never felt before. I kept thinking about the princess. I was in love. I beat the game at 4:00AM and remember sitting in my chair for almost an hour just bathing in a glow of the most inexplicable, exquisite feeling.

As the sun came up, I went out for a walk around my neighborhood in an emotional state which, looking back now, could probably be described as my first mystical experience. Everything in the world felt new, golden, full of life. I felt love in every leaf on every tree, every cloud, every rock. It was like the whole world was made of love.

I was, of course, smart enough to realize that she was just a character in a videogame. I’m sure a lot of boys would have continued to pursue her through anime and fan fiction. But I was smarter than that. I knew that what I was feeling was the taste of a love relationship, and that I could experience it with a real girl in real life.

The afterglow of this experience lasted for many days. But eventually I started to wish I had a girlfriend to experience this kind of love with someone in real life. I began to fantasize about hanging out with a girl at my house, sitting and talking, going for walks together, watching sunsets together, talking for long hours into the night, bringing her to my favorite activities. I even started to feel a sense of emptiness when I did the things I enjoyed.

They just weren’t the same anymore. I felt like I was missing something. And the more I enjoyed a particular activity, the more empty I felt while doing it. I started doing my hobbies less and less because it was getting quite painful to have a “good time” all by myself without anyone to share the experiences with. I started to dread having fun. All I could think about whenever I had fun was “This would be sooooooo much better if I was doing it with a girl.”

One weekend, my family was paid a visit by some cousins from another state – my favorite cousins! I had always enjoyed playing with them, perhaps more than anybody else. We had all the same interests and got along fantastically. This time, we played a board game together – Settlers of Catan – my favorite board game.

Here I was, playing my favorite game with my favorite cousins, and in the middle of the game, I was overtaken by a profound and crippling sense of loneliness and sadness. It just wasn’t the same. I needed a girlfriend. Nothing I did was enjoyable anymore without a female companion. I left the house in the middle of the game. I took a walk, attempting to process the incredibly overwhelming emotions I was feeling.

It was July, and in the weeks that followed, I felt very lonely. I even started to feel like I was going crazy from lack of female presence. There were no kids in my neighborhood who I knew (most of the neighborhood was strangely inhabited by old people), and there were no hangout spots for kids to meet each other despite being in a large metropolitan area.

Baltimore is like that. I had no idea where to meet girls, so I wanted school to start so that I could see girls again and have a chance to talk to them and find one to be my girlfriend. It was highly unusual – unheard of – for me to actually want school to start.

Summer was my favorite time of year, and I wouldn’t even suffer a person to mention “school” in my presence! They were required to say “S” instead. If a person mentioned “school”, I would correct them and tell them never to say that word. And yet here I was wishing for school to start!

But I wasn’t entirely idle. I tried to meet girls. One night I went to the movies to try to meet them. I knew that the movies were pretty much the only place where people my age hung out during the summer. So I plucked up a friend and went to go see a movie. He didn’t care about meeting girls and wondered why I was so adamant about doing so.

The entire time we were there, I looked around for cute girls to talk to and there weren’t any. It was a wasteland. Where were all the girls? After the movie was over, I did eventually find one pair of girls who had seen the same movie, and I went over and talked to them. I don’t remember what was said, but all I remember is that I left empty handed. When I got home, I cried. I was so angry I threw a garbage can clear across the back yard.

When school finally started, I felt like a kid in a candy shop. At least for the first few days. I soon realized however that none of the girls were interested in me. I was perplexed. I didn’t know what to do. I tried everything I knew of, and nothing led anywhere.

I started to sink into a depression. I stopped doing homework. I stopped doing my hobbies. I couldn’t bear to have fun anymore because the more fun I had, the more aware I became of the lack of companionship while doing it. My favorite activities were like torture. I slowly dropped most of them and dedicated my entire mind, life, and energy to finding a girlfriend.

Around this time, one of my friends met a couple of girls at a club (an underage, non-alcoholic dance club that specifically catered to 15-17 year olds). These girls lived in a town an hour away. I was the only one who had a car, so I drove him, myself, and one or two other friends down to their town to hang out with them. It was a very adventurous thing to do at the time because the farthest distance I had ever driven was 10 or 15 minutes away in familiar territory. Driving all the way to this faraway town felt like crossing into the great unknown. But I did it and felt very proud of myself for taking such a risk to better my life.

When we got to their house, they had several other female friends over. It was really cool. They seemed a lot more laid back, fun, non-judgmental, and interesting than the people in my home town. My friend hooked up with the girl he had met at the club. For my part, I was outgoing, social, and funny. My friend was shy, silent, and rather boring – but by the end of the night, my friend had a hookup, and I didn’t. I didn’t understand why. It was a pattern that would repeat itself many, many times from that day forward.

We visited that group several more times, and the girl my friend had hooked up with became his girlfriend. I felt it was smart for me to keep going there because she had lots of female friends. I continued to be funny and outgoing, but for some reason the group started to make fun of me and even bully me a little. Probably because I was the only single dude there, the only dude without a mate. Single dudes receive more disrespect and derision than any other demographic in this society. I came to learn that quickly.

During this entire year, I took a proactive approach to meeting girls. I didn’t really know what I was doing as I hadn’t discovered Game yet, but I was trying, and I used whatever strategies I knew of at the time. Whenever I saw a girl who I was interested in, I found some way to talk to her. It may have been weird, beta-ey, white-knightey, stalker-ey, and ineffective, but I was trying.

I took my fate into my own hands and went about doing what I could. I even asked a girl to the prom. It was very scary – prom was a big, big deal. I was so nervous when I asked her to go with me. I was so proud of myself when I finally approached her and asked her to be my prom date.

But she declined. She had a look on her face that was like “Um, why are you asking me?” It was like there were two categories of guys, in her mind: Yeses, and No’s. And I didn’t fit either category – I was “N/A.” Not only did she not want to be with me in a romantic context, but the very thought of me in that context was alien to her – it didn’t even make any sense.

When 11th grade was over and summer came around, I occupied myself by volunteering for local political campaigns, for the upcoming 2002 election. I was still a very passionate environmentalist and had even risen to become president of both the Recycling Club and the Young Democrats Club at my school.

This latter position was extremely prestigious, since I lived in a very left-wing liberal area, and almost every family was die-hard Democratic. I arranged for sitting elected officials to visit the school and organized events in which I wore suits and gave speeches from podiums and was in a pretty “Alpha” position.

There were girls in the club, and girls from outside the club came to the events to see the politicians. But this prestige didn’t do anything towards attracting them romantically. For some reason I was still invisible to them.

When 12th grade was about to start, I contemplated my situation. I thought about why I had been without a girlfriend for an entire year. I couldn’t understand why everyone else seemed to be forming connections with girls and I wasn’t. Everyone except for my group of friends – we were the girl-less outcasts.

There were many subcultures at my school: the JAP’s (the popular kids), the skaters, the goths, the black kids (I’m not a racist, but I couldn’t hang with the black kids because whenever I did, they would practice WWE wrestling moves on me), the goody-goody teachers pets, the nerds, and the Russian immigrants who looked like hitmen at the age of 16.

I didn’t belong in any of those groups – I was “miscellaneous.” Everyone who didn’t have a group was part of my group. I didn’t have much in common with any of my friends other than the fact that none of us had anything in common with anyone else.

And my friends were just as clueless with girls as I was. I didn’t have any positive role models in this area. But there was one key difference between me and them: I tried to get girls, whereas they didn’t really care. They were all of the mindset of, “Girls don’t like us – oh well, let’s play computer games.” But I couldn’t settle for that. I was a fighter.

I came to the conclusion that the past year was just the universe’s way of testing me to see what I was made of. It had been an excruciating experience because it was meant to give me a taste of suffering so that when I finally did find a girlfriend, it would be that much more special and awesome. I concluded that whereas 11th grade had been crap, 12th grade would be golden. I would find a girlfriend and enjoy my last year in high school with a girl at my side.

But 12th grade went by the exact same way as 11th, except this time I was getting bitter. I couldn’t understand why I had been categorically rejected by the entire female half of the population. I felt trapped with no way out. I kept trying, but the anger of failure was starting to eclipse my hope for success.

When senior prom came around, I didn’t even try for a date because I was jaded, and I knew I wouldn’t get one. I developed an attitude of, “I’m above all this stupid dating shit.” I even contemplated crashing the prom. I thought about busting into the dance with a bunch of water balloons and throwing them at the people. I was really starting to hate the world. At my graduation, I just sat there, miserable, ruminating on how much I hated all of the spoiled, sexually active sluts and jocks.

And it was in this context that I stumbled across Double Your Dating by David DeAngelo. As soon as I read his long marketing pitch I knew it was for me, and I downloaded his ebooks. Reading DYD opened my eyes up to the whole charade, and I finally understood why girls weren’t liking me.

I was a “wussy.” I was putting girls on pedestals, treating them like queens when they hadn’t earned it and acting hesitant and non-confident. I was thrilled to find out that my looks weren’t as important as I thought they were, and that even a 5’2” socially awkward dork could transform himself into a stud whom women flocked to simply by changing his attitude and developing confidence.

Since there were no opportunities to meet girls during the summer, I bided my time until college began.

The college selection process had been a difficult one. I had no idea where I wanted to go and no idea how to even go about choosing. What criteria was I supposed to use when selecting a school? I had good grades, scored very highly on the SAT’s, was active in extracurricular activities and  a talented writer, and I could have gotten into 95% of the colleges out there if I wanted to. But there were over 10,000 colleges in the USA. How was I supposed to know which one to go to? It was like staring at a blank page.

It felt like shopping for clothes – it was the same type of mindset. Whenever I walked into the mall to buy clothes, I felt clueless about how to pick a style. There were just so many options, and no one had ever taught me anything about how to find my own personal unique clothing style. So I just bought plain, simple t-shirts, shirts that had funny sayings on the front. Either that, or I let my Mom pick my clothes out for me.

And so I ended up using the same strategy for college – I let my Mom pick. We visited about 4 or 5 schools, and eventually settled on George Washington University in DC. It would be a good choice, I thought, because I wanted to major in Political Science so I could run for congress and save the world.

In the summer before college, I read and studied David DeAngelo’s materials. I went to the mall to practice talking to girls and delivering cocky funny lines. Keep in mind, this was in the era before the pickup arts hit the mainstream – before Strauss’s The Game, before VH1‘s Pickup Artist. It was so new and unheard of that the line, “Excuse me, I need a female opinion – who lies more, men or women?” actually worked. Stock openers actually got girls interested because they had truly never heard such things before!

When I got to college, I was prepared. I had an arsenal of cocky-funny lines, positive self-affirmations, attitudes and techniques, and success stories from other guys to keep me motivated and optimistic. I felt like I had been given the keys to a secret society, and life would be the polar opposite of what it had been up to that point.

As soon as I arrived on campus, I hit the ground running. I used everything I had learned from David D. I “used my amazing brain to figure out ways to succeed, rather than reasons to fail.” I walked around campus thinking, “I’m the Alpha male. I’ve got the secret knowledge that none of them know. I’m a rock star. I can get any woman. They all want me.” I repeated these affirmations constantly, and I adopted the body language to back it up.

And I was a star. Girls were into me. They were talking to me. Every time I hit them with a cocky-funny line, they would look at me like, “Omg, who are you?”, and they would suddenly start touching me and asking me questions about myself. One girl asked me out and offered to pay for my lunch! In every class, I talked to the girls I was attracted to, hit them with cocky-funny, and got amazingly positive responses.

In my dorm, I was a minor celebrity. My confidence and attitude blew people away, and I was popular for the first time in my life.

But I was afraid to escalate because I didn’t want to come across as “pursuing.” David D taught me that guys aren’t supposed to pursue girls – we’re supposed to just act really cool and let the women pursue US. This led to a sort of conundrum because eventually I had to show some interest, right?

I couldn’t just be cocky and aloof forever – eventually I had to drop some hint that I wanted the girl. But I didn’t know how to transition from one attitude to the other. On the rare occasion that I did, it would totally screw things up. If I showed any interest in a girl, things went quickly downhill. As long as I was aloof, girls respected me and pursued my attention, but when I displayed any interest in them at all, they lost their interest in me.


Eventually, this process played out with every single prospect, and eventually the novelty of “Mr. Cool” faded, and they saw me as just another guy. I kept meeting new girls of course. Every day I met a new girl, struck up conversations, and built up the attraction.

But I just didn’t know what to do with the attraction. I didn’t know how to translate that attraction into a relationship of any kind – be it sexual, romantic, or even platonic. Not only could I not have sex or romance, I couldn’t even make friends with girls. By the end of freshman year, I had not hooked up with one single girl nor did I have any female friends. I didn’t have any male friends either.

Oh sure, I had acquaintances. I did extracurricular activities and clubs, mostly having to do with politics. Washington DC is a large, diverse city, and there was always something to do. I went to events, rallies, art exhibits. The students I interacted with thought I was a cool dude and would approach and say hi to me on campus.

People gladly sat next to me in the dining hall and ate with me. But they were only into my persona – my David D persona – they weren’t into me. They didn’t even know me. Nobody did. All I had was my DYD persona, which, like any shiny object, is highly captivating at first but after a while gets old. After a whole year in college, I had not explored friendship, intimacy or sex. At all. I was a loner – even though nobody knew it!

And I was extremely jealous of everyone who was doing those things. I would walk around campus, watching all the couples, wondering how they did it. How could they be so successful when they don’t even know any Game? WTF?

When school was over, I went on an all-expense paid trip to Israel, courtesy of the Jews. For 10 days I rode around on a bus with 50 other college freshmen and sophomores from various schools around the US. We stayed in 5-star hotels, ate banquet meals, had all of our activities planned out for us, and all we had to do was enjoy ourselves.

I was told by previous participants that these types of trips are prime opportunities to hook up with girls. I used everything at my disposal. I built up my skills, took chances and tried my very best to connect with girls.

It all came to a climax one night while we were staying in a Bedouin tent in the middle of the desert. On this particular night, I felt so confident that I just walked up to a girl who was eating, sat down across the table from her and just looked at her without saying a word.

She immediately started smiling and giggling and asking me about myself. We made deep, sensual eye contact. I was feeling like this was it – the girlfriend I’ve been waiting for all this time! I invited her for a walk around the camp, and she happily agreed. I was sure this was it.

And in the middle of the walk, a guy came up to us and introduced himself. He was her boyfriend. They embraced. I didn’t give up though! I hung around, hoping to find out that they were just kidding and she was really single. But after a while, I figured out that they were a happy couple, and I wasn’t getting any. At the end of the trip, most people who wanted to hook up had done so, even the shy quiet nerdy kid. You know the type – every trip has one. The kid who everyone thinks is sexually hopeless – even he hooked up!

After 10 days, I was back in Baltimore for the summer. I met up with my high school friends, and we went to parties around town. Most of the parties we went to were high school parties – and I thought I had a better chance now that I was a prestigious college student. And I was right – I did get a lot of attention and respect.

But it was just like before – I didn’t know how to translate that into actual affection and intimacy. I kept a journal of my interactions wherein I listed the time and place, the name of the girl, the things I did well, and the things I could have improved on. I regularly referenced my journal and shared it with a friend who also read DYD (I was the one who introduced him to it). Every party that my friends told me about I went to, and I talked to as many girls as I could. But despite all of this work, summer went by with no success.

Then came sophomore year. I started expanding my Game knowledge into other schools of thought. I started reading Ross Jeffries, RSD, Mystery Method, Juggler, and many others. I continued listening to David D’s products, and had built up quite a collection of “Interviews with Dating Gurus” CD’s. I was very serious about it all. I continued keeping my journal. I still didn’t have any friends, and I was starting to doubt whether I would ever meet any girls through school.

So I took the next step. I “manned up”, and did something I had been mortifyingly afraid of – I started going to clubs. Clubs were extremely scary to me. I saw them as lawless places where a person could beat you up or kill you, and there’d be no consequences. Like the jungle.

I didn’t have any friends to go with me, so I went all by myself. I bought club clothes, found a hot club with a college night where I could get in, and one Thursday night, I showed up. I was almost pissing myself from the fear. I stood in line and was tempted many times to abort and go back to my dorm. But I stayed and finally got inside.

Upon entering, I saw the most extremely hot, sexy, dolled-up girls I had ever seen in my life. Every girl was wearing a push-up bra. They danced to raunchy rap music. There were go-go girls dancing on the bar. I felt like a little mouse. But I approached. It was probably the scariest thing I had done in my whole life up to that point. I had no friends or wingmen encouraging me – I was alone. And I did it. After the first approach, I approached again. And again.

After that night, I felt really proud of myself, and I continued going to the same club each week.

Towards the end of the semester, I found the blog of a “community” guy in DC and emailed him. Very soon we were meeting up together and going to clubs together. I had a wingman! This guy was really knowledgeable about Game, and he taught me quite a lot. He brought me to the hottest club in DC, a place called Dream. For those of you who know DC, Dream was eventually renamed Love. That place.

I turned into an approach machine, and I had a lot of very interesting, confidence-boosting interactions there. After a few months, I had pretty much vanquished my approach anxiety. As I started to meet more and more PUA’s, and they began to recognize me as “the kid who can approach any girl, in any set, at any time, and in any place.” I would dare people to point out difficult, intimidating sets of girls, and I would approach them just for the sake of conquering whatever little bits of fear still remained.

I also did approaches during the daytime. I approached on the campus quad, in the dining hall, in the library, on the campus shuttle, and on the street. I went to frat parties and approached all night. I did it without drinking alcohol. I don’t like alcohol and never have. 99.9% of all the approaches I did were completely sober.

I did, however, like a little weed now and then. And I got the idea that if I sold weed, I’d have stoners coming over to my dorm to buy it, and some of those stoners would be female. And I did indeed make plenty of customers, some of whom were female. But none of them stuck around – they just showed up to buy, and that was it. I tried to game them, but it didn’t go anywhere.

I think they might have sensed that I wasn’t a true stoner – I smoked from time to time, but didn’t develop a habit. It was maybe once a week at most. I also tried coke a few times thinking that it would give me some super-heroic confidence with women. But after a few uses, I didn’t really see what was so great about it – it made me more aggressive, but I already had that part down. I didn’t need any more of it. I needed to learn how to connect.

In the spring of sophomore year in 2005, RSD came to DC, and I took their workshop. I met Tyler, Twentysix (Extramask), Jeffy (jlaix), Papa, and all the crew. They were impressed by my dedication and by my unwavering willingness to put myself out there and try things.

They seemed quite taken aback by my revelation that I was still a virgin who hadn’t even kissed anyone yet. I made copious mental notes about the RSD guys’ body language and attitudes. One funny thing that happened during the workshop: I got to see jlaix develop a crush on a girl he met at the club who happened to be in one of my classes. I saw him get almost to the point of crying over how beautiful she was and how much he felt the pangs of “oneitis” for her. I was pretty amused.

The year ended with no results. That summer, I went to a giant music festival called Bonnaroo. I expected it to be the easiest place to hook up. I wanted to be sure that I had what it took, so I bought a handful of doses of every kind of drug out there – mushrooms, MDMA, opium, acid, etc, (none of which I had ever tried) and put it all into a little bottle and carried it around with me just in case I met a girl who wanted to do XYZ, so that I’d have it to offer her and could chill with her.

But that plan hit a little snag when I got randomly searched by an undercover cop. He found it all, except for my vitamin pills which looked like MDMA and which I had several dozen of. I’m glad he didn’t find my vitamins, or I might have gotten into trouble!

Upon returning home, I stumbled across a post on some seduction forum by a guy named Stephane Hemon of the website IdeaGasms. Stephane talked about the intersection of pickup and spirituality and had devised a system for fixing one’s inner game based on new-age spiritual principles.

He was a protégé of Steve Piccus and DavidX and advocated a very unique type of game that blended yoga, meditation, the occult, NLP, and good-old-fashioned approach-spam all rolled into one. He had a girlfriend who was bisexual, and together they went around Montreal picking up girls to threesome and foursome with. The newsletters he wrote about the spiritual principles behind pickup game were very profound, and I started to consider him my main “guru” in the field.

That autumn, my junior year of college, I signed up for his forum and began posting my own thoughts and philosophies. The other forum members were impressed by what I wrote, and I became the most popular poster, second only to Stephane himself, so he made me the moderator of the forum.

I continued to go around my college campus, approaching and gaming girls and writing about my experiences on the forum to rave reviews. Even though I didn’t get any lays or hookups, the people there admired my courage, creativity, and persistence. I had hundreds of people rooting for me, encouraging me, and praising me for my devoted effort.

The following spring, 2006, Stephane invited me up to Montreal to visit him. This experience was one of the most eye-opening things that’s ever happened to me.

I took the train to Montreal, and when I got there, it was like stepping into a whole new world. Montreal was different from any place I had ever been before. There were the most incredibly, reality-bendingly attractive girls walking around on every square foot of every street in the entire city.

Have you ever had the experience where you saw a girl who was so hot that her hotness forced you to reevaluate your entire view of reality? Where you stared at her, thinking, “She can’t be real?” Well, I had incidents like that several times a day. I was completely shocked and stunned by the intensity and sheer neverending quantities of hotness walking around.

Having lived my whole life in the Baltimore/Washington area, I had no preparation for this. I used to think people – humans in general – were gross and disgusting with only a few exceptions here and there. My debut in Montreal showed me that the world outside of my home region is very different. I would never look at Baltimore or DC the same way again.

In fact, I was so impressed and delighted by not just the girls but also the general atmosphere and ambiance of the city that I decided to spend the whole summer up there. After my one week visit was over, I took the train back home, packed my belongings, loaded up my car, and drove 11 hours back up to Canada, where I would spend the following two months.

For two whole months, I hung out with Stephane, his girlfriend(s), and his students/followers. I lived in his old apartment (since he had moved into a new one, and still had 2 months left on the lease for the old one) for free, the same apartment where his infamous Intro to Female Ejaculation DVD was filmed.

I went out to bars and clubs, walked around the Plateau-Mont-Royal, chilled in Parc Lafontaine every day, and continued my herculean approach regimen. But after all was said and done, I got nowhere with girls. I didn’t even get one date. I got feedback from Steph and the forum guys, but no one could figure out what was going wrong.

I had to return to DC to finish up my last semester that fall. I had amassed enough credits to graduate a semester early, and the prospect of languishing in Baltimore until further notice filled me with dread, so I planned to move back up to Montreal as soon as my exams were over in December. And that’s what I did.

I’m not sure how I convinced the Canadian border patrol to let me through with a car full of furniture – I guess it was my absolute dedication to succeeding at this. I got an apartment in the Pointe-Saint-Charles neighborhood not far from downtown and continued my quest. I saw Stephane and the IdeaGasms guys less but occasionally hung out with them.

I ran into some problems though, mainly the extreme cold weather and the fact that I was an illegal immigrant who didn’t speak French. I couldn’t find any work. And the Quebecois girls were just not giving me the time of day. As soon as I approached them, they would pretend not to speak English – even though I could tell they were bullshitting. I got very lonely, cold, and depressed.

One night I went out for a midnight walk in the park (something I do very frequently), but it was so cold I began to get hypothermia and almost fell asleep. I almost died. I wasn’t ready for a Canadian winter.

And on top of all that, I had a falling out with Stephane. I publicly questioned the efficacy of his techniques on the forum, and he responded by immediately banning me – the moderator – and refusing to talk to me. I responded by calling him a cult leader, starting an ex-Ideagasmers forum and writing articles about his deceptions and cult-like personality. At this point there was nothing anchoring me to Montreal, so after a month, I came back to Baltimore. This was January 2007.

The entire year of 2007 was uneventful and depressing. I got a roomshare in Baltimore and continued hitting the bars and clubs, but anyone who knows Baltimore knows what that’s like. Having just returned from Montreal, it was like going from a Porsche to a jalopy.

I cried a lot that year. I got kicked out of the room I was renting for reasons that were never explained to me and got another room. I was kicked out of there too, again for reasons not explained, and then decided to move back to DC. I couldn’t afford anything in the city, so I lived in Prince George’s County…and it sucked.

I went into the District two or three times a week to meet girls and expanded my hunting grounds to Adams Morgan and U Street. But nothing happened. I had no girlfriend, no sex, and no friends. I was completely alone.

In January 2008, one year after leaving Montreal, I was invited to visit Tampa Florida by an ex-Ideagasmer on my ex-IG forum. I flew down there for a week and hung out with this guy and his two female housemates who, needless to say, were quite attractive.

Just being in the presence of attractive girls on a regular basis was such a relief; it was like I was reawakening out of a dream (or more like a nightmare). That combined with mid-winter Florida warmth and sunshine gave me the hint that I should maybe move down there. It’s something I eventually acted on – although not quite yet.

That Spring 2008, I had a genius idea. I decided to become a certified yoga teacher! I had been taking yoga classes since college, and I liked it. It made me feel good. And best of all, everyone knows that yoga classes are filled with attractive women bending over and contorting themselves into all kinds of shapes! It made perfect sense. If I become a yoga teacher, I’ll have automatic guaranteed access to attractive women, and I’d be in an Alpha-like position to boot! Scooooore!

So I took a 3-week intensive training course at an ashram in the mountains of Virginia. When I was done, I was a certified yoga teacher and began looking for positions teaching in Baltimore. I found a studio that was willing to hire me and began teaching. But much to my chagrin, the client base was almost all middle-aged married soccer moms. I don’t think there were any single girls who came in. I taught throughout the summer and fall until the September 2008 financial crisis hit, and the studio lost clientele and went out of business.

A few months later, one of my friends invited me to come with him to Miami where he was investigating a medical school to possibly attend. I rode down there with him and spent a week in Fort Lauderdale, which is about an hour from Miami. We stayed in a very upscale area and spent most of the time chilling on the beach.

We also went to the famous Miami Beach where for the first time I saw female attractiveness on par with Montreal. I still prefer Montreal girls over Miami girls because the former have more feminine energy. The girls in Miami are extremely shapely and show a lot of skin, but their attractiveness is almost totally on the raw, physical level – they’re just hot.

But they don’t have that aura of femininity that the French girls have. A French girl can walk by me, and I feel her like a cool breeze, quenching the fires of my sexual frustration just by her mere proximity. Whereas a Miami girl is just hot and makes me desire her but not much else. Nevertheless, the Florida sunshine coupled with the copious hotties on the beach reawakened my will to keep on fighting. I started to seriously contemplate moving down there.

2009 rolled around, and I wanted to move to Florida, but I didn’t have any job prospects. My friend the medical student decided to attend school there, but he wouldn’t be moving in until the following year. So for most of 2009 I just kind of got really depressed and started smoking weed more regularly since there wasn’t much else to do.

I visited Montreal again in June and spent about 2 weeks there staying with some friends who I knew from the Ideagasms days. It was a pleasant relief to be in the amazing ambiance of Montreal once again, and I resumed my attempts to connect with girls there. I went around to all the parks just like I had done 3 years before. I went to the bars and clubs.

But something was different this time. I no longer believed in my ability to succeed. I went through the motions, but I wasn’t really confident that anything would happen. I did it just to say to myself, “I’m doing it”, so that I would feel like I was working towards a goal, but I didn’t really think it would succeed.

I started going to bars just to sit and watch the girls rather than approach and talk to them. I still approached when I saw one that was particularly attractive and/or my type or when I was feeling a spontaneous breath of confidence. But I had very little faith that it would go anywhere. I wasn’t “afraid” to approach. I had long since conquered the fear. I just didn’t see the point in it.

In September of that year, I attended a hippie lovey gathering in Asheville, NC and was very impressed by that little town and its culture. I started to appreciate the small town vibe blended with the progressive thinking. I was dreading the prospect of another winter in Baltimore, so I said fuck it and moved down to Asheville.

I rented a room with some people I knew from the festival and started trying to fit in there. But it didn’t work. I don’t even know why. I love nature, mountains, forests, and hiking, and that’s what everyone’s into over there. But for some reason I still couldn’t make any friends. And the girls, despite being homely hippies, still didn’t want to get with me.

My strategy there was to meet people through activities rather than from spam approaching. I still did a lot of cold approaches in bookstores, crystal shops, drum circles. But none of it worked. I was empty handed and came back to Baltimore after a month or so.

In the fall of 2009, I had an…iiiiiiinteresting experience. I attended the Free Spirit Sacred Sexuality Gathering, a large, famous gathering of pagans and alternative-lifestyle types that takes place every fall on the banks of the Susquehanna River in Maryland. I saw “Sexuality” in the title, and figured it would be a good place to figure out just what the fuck was wrong with me, why I was still a virgin at the age of 24.

But when I got there, I was greeted by a dominatrix in leather directing me to my parking spot, jokingly threatening to whip my bottom if I didn’t find the space. Umm, yea.

Much to my chagrin, the vast majority of the attendees were BDSM people. I saw folks walking around the campground in bondage gear. I saw a lot of extremely obese people, some attaching clips to their nipples and having their partners pull on the string. I saw people whipping their subs right out in the open. Eww. I felt disgusted almost immediately. But I stayed. I stayed for the entire 3 days. Why? Because there was a chance, just a tiny chance, that I might find someone who could help me with my sexual drought.

Not everyone was a bondage person – there were some normal sexually adventurous people there. I went around to the various workshops, meeting people, sharing stories, learning new things, and hoping for the best. And in the midst of this giant sexual gathering, nobody played with me. After three days of enduring the sight of naked leather-clad obese sex slaves and listening to their screams all night, I came out of the experience with nothing to show for it.

Then in February 2010 I traveled to Costa Rica to take a TEFL course to become an English teacher. I spent a month and a half in San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. I wanted to learn to teach English so I could move to another country.

The thing that impressed me the most about Costa Rica was the number of lingerie shops in the mall. In one mall, the main mall in San Jose, I counted 9 shops devoted solely to lingerie. I wanted to move there just for that. Also there were nice beaches and stuff. And volcanoes. Yay.

I visited all the sites by myself, and I was miserable. I climbed a volcano where I could see both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans from one spot. It was the coolest place I’d ever been. But I was miserable because I had no one to share it with. Just like when I was in high school, I couldn’t enjoy anything fun because the fun only made my lack of companionship all the more stinging.

I asked other tourists to take pictures of me beside the crater, as I was planning on using the pictures to look cool on Facebook or on a dating profile. But when I looked at the pictures later, I couldn’t use them, because I had a look of pure misery and bitterness on my face. I ended up deleting the pictures because there was no use for them. They didn’t say, “I’m adventurous and worldly” – they said “This sucks, why am I here?”

When I returned to Baltimore, I began training as an AFLAC insurance agent. I passed the Maryland insurance test and began selling. But I didn’t make a single sale because I didn’t believe in the product I was selling. I don’t believe in insurance. What the hell was I doing?

Summer went by, lonely and depressing. For the first time, I started having thoughts of suicide. I started seeing a therapist. I visited Montreal again, this time bringing a friend. I had been telling him for years how cool the place is, and he finally got up the adventurousness to come check it out for himself. We went to the bars on the Plateau, and he met a petite little Frenchie and hooked up with her. Yay for him. Why could he do it, but not me?

By this time, October 2010, my Florida friend had moved into his place in Fort Lauderdale, and I decided to make the move. I packed up my things and drove down there and moved into a spare room in his apartment.

At first it was pretty nice. It was such a relief to be out of the shithole cuckoo’s nest of Baltimore. I felt a sense of hope again, like I had a fresh start. I wasn’t depressed there. I started regularly approaching girls again. I had always been an approacher even in the most depressing periods.

But now I was once again doing it with regularity and motivation behind it. I got a job working at a Quiznos but found it incredibly boring and draining. Just then, my friend informed me of a tutoring company that he had done some work for and forwarded them my resume. Pretty soon I got the job and was traveling around Broward County Florida tutoring elementary and middle school kids in math, reading, and science.

After a month and a half, my friend got tired of me living with him and asked me to find my own place. I stayed at a hostel for a few nights, where I met a group of Brazilian exchange students (college-aged). I regaled them with my version of the Brazilian national anthem which I had randomly learned a few years back (don’t ask me why), and they thought I was awesome and amazing – the most funny and entertaining American they had ever met. Being with the Brazilians was like a constant, never-ending, childlike laugh fest. With hot girls.

They found themselves an apartment where they packed themselves in, 7 Brazilians in a two-bedroom, which comes out to 3.5 Brazilians per room. It was 4 girls and 3 guys, and the girls of course got the beds, while the guys slept on air mattresses. Obviously.

And the apartment building was filled with Brazilians, all from the same exchange program. There were so many Brazilians in this apartment building, that whenever I visited them, I referred to it as “The Brazartment.”

I looked for apartments on my own and found one that was kind of far away from all the action. It was quiet, but I had to drive over 30 minutes to get to the beach. I got kind of lonely there. And since I was feeling particularly adventurous, and didn’t feel like spending a shit ton of money on an apartment, I got another genius idea. I asked the Brazilians if I could move in with them.

There was a slight problem though. “Where will you zlip?” they asked me. (translation: “Where will you sleep?”) There was no space in the apartment. So I used my creative skills and came up with the idea to live on their balcony in a tent. That’s right, I lived on the balcony. Well, it was more than just a balcony – it was more like a rooftop which their living room opened out to. It was fairly large.

And it overlooked the Atlantic Ocean, which was only 2 blocks away. So every night, I went to bed with the sound of waves, and every morning I unzipped my tent door to see the sight of the sun rising off the sea. It was a pretty good deal. I felt like it matched my sense of adventure and spontaneity.

But the female population of south Florida was another story. They were not impressed. When I told them about my living situation, they looked at me like I was some kind of bum. I lived there for 5 months, and during those months I was friendly, social, employed, and was running Game like the good ol’ days. I talked to girls on the beach. I talked to girls in the bars and lounges. I talked to girls in the parks. I talked to girls in the Brazartment. I talked to girls everywhere. But no one was interested. I was invisible.

It was around this time that I discovered a blogger by the name of Roosh Vorek. The things he said made total sense to me. It explained why I was suffering so much – I was just in the wrong place! There was nothing wrong with me – I was doing what I needed to do. The problem was the culture around me. I started to seriously consider permanent expatriation.

But I wasn’t ready to give up on the USA quite yet. I reasoned that Roosh was right about the East Coast, but there had to be better people in other parts of the country – particularly out west. In the spring of 2011, I left Florida for a road trip that would last 4 months and cover over a dozen states. I visited Montreal one more time (this time visiting Quebec City and points north – some of the most beautiful country I’ve ever seen in my life), and then headed out west. I drove straight out until I reached Kansas City, spent some time there, and then made my way out to Colorado, Utah, Arizona, California, Oregon, and Washington.

I had no plans – I just went wherever my intuition led me. I arrived at the Pacific in San Diego, and then slowly made my way up the coast, stopping for a few days at every major city and town. LA, Santa Barbara, Big Sur, Santa Cruz, San Francisco and Berkeley, Palo Alto, San Jose, Mendocino and Sonoma, Arcata and Eureka and then over to Mount Shasta.

Then I made my way into Oregon, staying in Ashland and Portland and then on to Seattle. I was going to visit Vancouver BC, but my passport got stolen in Portland. For 4 months I lived in my car and traveled with the wind. I was looking for a fucking place to live that wasn’t a shithole. I was looking for a new culture, a promised land. I was looking for a girlfriend.

I believed that there was some amazing, open-minded, slightly-hippieish-but-still-hot girl, living somewhere out in the West who was my soulmate, and I could find her if I just followed my instinct. I spontaneously befriended random people. I camped on the sides of mountains. I slept inside my car while parallel parked in towns and cities. I used couchsurfing. I did wwoofing. I searched on the internet for events and parties, gatherings and get-togethers.

I took baths in lakes and streams. I explored the redwoods, the deserts, the mountains. I went back down the coast again to Hollywood and the hills surrounding it. I drove the Boulevard and Mulholland Drive.

I went to Santa Barbara and walked the streets of Isla Vista, the same place that would later become famous because of another lonely, frustrated guy in a similar boat as me. While in Isla Vista, I remember sitting in my car watching all the hot sorority chicks and their boyfriends walking past me, brooding over how much I hated them for having lives of sex and pleasure…not knowing that there was another dude thinking the same things, probably no more than a few blocks away and videotaping himself thinking it.

I started heading back east again, first to Arizona. I played around in the canyons and red rocks. Then New Mexico, where I thought Santa Fe and Taos were really cool towns. I met a lot of cool people, but just didn’t have anything to anchor me anywhere. I continued on to Austin, Texas. Then Louisiana. By this time it was getting late in the autumn, and it was too cold to be anywhere up north. I continued on to Florida, then made my way back up the coast back to Baltimore. I was out of money and needed to stay with my parents again.

A couple months later, in February 2012, I went to Israel again to live on a kibbutz-like farm dedicated to sustainability and permaculture. It turned out to be more of a Zionist indoctrination camp than a permaculture education program. I wasn’t comfortable staying there, so I left and wandered around the country thinking that my “roots” would come into play and that I’d be able to connect with people there.

It didn’t exactly work. It just made me want to get the fuck away from Jews. One of the places I visited was the Galilee, and I stood in the spot where Jesus supposedly fed all the people with the two fish. I started to wonder if maybe my plight was so deep and hopeless that only Jesus could save me. I thought about becoming a Christian.

After two months of wandering around the “Holy” Land, my parents were getting enraged at having to keep sending me money, so I came back to Baltimore.

I saved up a bit, and then went to Hawaii. I worked on a farm there, doing wwoofing, but it turned out to be the most militantly feminist, male-hating place I’ve ever been. I felt like an indentured servant. I didn’t like the north shore of Maui at all. It was like being a black dude in the south.

The racism (from native Hawaiians) and especially the misandry from the white people were so incredible I couldn’t stay. I assumed all of Hawaii was like that, and I didn’t have money to go around exploring all the islands anyway, so I came back home…again.

In the fall of 2012 I started using a dating site called This was a major turning point for me, because it was the first time I had ever experienced positive attention from women. The girls on there were so sweet, and talked to me like I was a human being. I decided to go to the Philippines. I did so in March 2013.

It was like having the entire fabric of reality turned inside out – everywhere I went, girls were approaching me! They were asking me out! They were coming over to my table in the food court and asking me why I was alone! And these weren’t prostitutes. I can recognize a ho, and these weren’t. They just live in a culture where men’s needs are actually important, and a man all alone by himself doesn’t make sense.

In feminist America, a man alone by himself is a good thing – it means he’s not having sex with women, and that’s good because he’s atoning for thousands of years of brutally oppressing women and therefore his frustration is a good thing. And also heterosexual sex is rape.

But in the Philippines, men are treated like people, and celibacy is recognized as the painful, suffering condition that it is. I actually had sex. Twice! No, scratch that… three times! Two of them were working girls, and one was a girl who I had met on the website.

But it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure how to tell if it was real or if they were only trying to scam me or gold-dig. One girl who lived in another part of the country and who I had been talking to online for over a month, asked me to send her a cellphone in the mail so that we could talk. A red flag went up, but I figured hey, it’s only like $25. If I get scammed for $25, I can live with that. So I sent her a phone, and sure enough, the very next thing I got was “Omg, I just got bitten by a rabid dog, I need $1,000 for medicine.”

And I didn’t even have the money to be gold-dug. I was almost broke. I was hoping to land a job teaching English or something like that, but Filipinos already speak English. There isn’t the market for it over there. So I ended up exploring another island and some mountains, and then went back home to Baltimore…again.

I considered going to another Asian country to teach English. But I had no idea which one to pick. I’ve always been attracted to Japanese culture…but then again, China’s really cool too. Or how about someplace tropical like Thailand or Vietnam? I couldn’t decide. So I said, “Alright, I’ll go home and think about it for a while. I’ll meditate on it. Eventually I’ll get some profound insight on what country will be best for me, and then I’ll apply for jobs there.”

It was spring of 2013, and the weather was wonderful, so I decided to go and work on a farm an hour outside of Baltimore. A hippy farm. It was great to be in nature in a serene and bucolic setting. I really enjoyed that part.

But the hippies pissed me off so much. They were so misandrist. I remember a big butch lesbian loudly proclaiming that the next time she has to wash somebody else’s dirty dishes, she’s going to start “pulling off testicles.” She said it in front of everyone, and no one thought there was anything wrong with that.

I thought about saying “The next time I have to deal with misandry, I’m gonna start shoving broomsticks up vaginas.” But I assumed that would get me kicked out right then and there, so I refrained from saying it. Nevertheless after 3 weeks, they decided to kick me out anyway. I’m not sure what I did. My theory is that I simply displayed masculinity, and masculinity wasn’t tolerated (in men) in that place. I believe that’s why they kicked me out.

Since I had sold my car before going to the Philippines and was without transportation, I decided to get a scooter. I bought a 50cc TaoTao, and called it a motorcycle. I started riding around town on my “motorcycle” and felt like a total badass!

Living in Baltimore, however, there was nothing to do. No social events to go to, except for yoga and yoga-related activities like kirtans and things of that nature, all of which were solidly feminist circles. There was nowhere that I could go to interact with normal, non-feminist people. The choice became one of two things: hang out with feminists or be alone.

So I chose to be alone, and I went forth into the wilderness. I set up my tent in the forest near my parents house, and lived in my tent from June 2013 onward. I used their house to shower and cook, but otherwise spent all my time in the forest next to a great big tree with 5 symmetrical trunks that looks like a temple.

I started to commune with the tree, with the spirit of the forest, asking the great mother Gaia earth goddess to help me, to guide me. I meditated. I prayed. I cried out to the universe to tell me what the fuck I was doing wrong. I asked for friendship. For a social circle. For guidance on what country to teach English in. Anything.

I became more and more miserable being alone. I needed companionship. I needed someone to talk to. I needed friends.

I became more and more miserable being alone. I needed companionship. I needed someone to talk to. I needed friends. But everyone in the whole fucking city was a feminist (or a black-and-white-stripe wearing hipster who I find repulsive). I was starting to go crazy from isolation. Who could I hang out with? Who would hang out with me? And that’s when I got my next genius idea: I called the Mormons!

I called them up and got two missionaries to come visit me in the forest. They were really nice and friendly, and the best part about them is that they weren’t feminists! I decided to go to church that Sunday and meet the whole Mormon crowd. For the next few months, I hung out with Mormons, and they were my primary (only?) social outlet.

As far as their beliefs…well…let’s just say I’m not so sure about the golden plates. Dum dum dum dum dum! But boy was it a relief to hang out with people who didn’t see me as a second class citizen because I have a penis.

Eventually I started to wonder if I should actually become a Mormon. We started talking about baptism. I saw myself joining the church, serving a mission, spreading Christia- I mean non-feminism.

And I got scared that I was getting carried away, and possibly making a rash decision based on loneliness and desperation, something I might later regret. I thought maybe Baltimore was playing tricks on my mind. I decided I had to get out immediately. I decided to put the Mormon thing on hold and think about it in a more neutral context, a more healthy context where I’m not lonely and desperate.

But I didn’t have the money to go anywhere for any length of time. I wanted to say goodbye to Baltimore forever and not have to come back at least until I had the stability to make it only a visit and not have to live with my parents. But there were no countries where I could survive on a budget of $600 (all my savings). No countries except one…


I knew lots of people who went to India and lived in ashrams (yoga monasteries) for only a few dollars a day – sometimes even for free. I figured I could stay there and get some relief and not have to worry about shit and take some time to evaluate my situation and figure something out. And hey, ashrams would be filled with people who are open-minded, spiritual, highly adventurous…and some of those people will be female! A perfect chance to meet someone.

So in October of 2013 I hopped on a plane to India. At first I liked it. It was very fun and stimulating. The food was amazing. But the heat started to get to me. I took the train up north to Rishikesh, the “world capital of yoga”, which is in the mountains and cooler. I stayed in ashrams. I went back down south, I traveled to a few different areas, but fuck, I just want to fucking get laid and ai can’t take this shit anymore what the fuck is going on why the fuck am I in India what am I doing and where are the fucking girls at and why can’t I fucking get a girlfriend or even a female friend or a friend of any fucking kind, what the fuck is going on??????????????????????????

After 3 months, I ran out of money and began to starve. I found some nice Indians to take me in and let me stay in their house until I could come up with some money. I got a loan from my parents and came back to Baltimore…again…in February. Now it’s June, and I’m really reaching the end of my rocker here. I’m still hanging out with the Mormons (my only social outlet), who are probably the only reason I haven’t killed myself by now.

Last week I read the manifesto of Elliot Rodger. I really feel like his life was the same as my life. After all is said and done, we both got pretty much the same results. I put in 100,000 times more work than he did.

I took the red pill. I approached like a machine. I did over 1,000 approaches in the span of a year in college in the prime of my youth when I had all my hair, a decent wardrobe, and a universally recognized “bright future” ahead of me. Now I’m bald (probably from all the stress and lack of physical touch from women) and have no societal “place”.

I’ve done a grand total of 3,000 approaches (maybe more) throughout my career, and the only thing I’ve gotten from it is 3,000 pieces of evidence that no matter how hard I work and how many risks I take, I’m still not going to succeed. I almost wish I had never approached and never learned game because at least that way I’d still have hope that I could succeed if only I were to try.

3,000 approaches and not a single girlfriend. Not a single lay. Barely even a kiss. It’s like I’m just invisible. What the fuck is going on? Please, somebody, help me.

I’m ready to start teaching English in China or someplace in Asia, but I’m afraid that it’s only going to be my socioeconomic status and not my personality that they’re attracted to. I’m concerned that I’ll be able to get dates but no physical affection – or if I do it’ll be short-lived, and girls will be dumping me left and right for the hotter, more sexually experienced English teacher in the classroom next to mine. I’m worried that I’m just “running from my problems”, and that they’ll just follow me wherever I go, be it China, Thailand, Ukraine, Brazil, or wherever.

Somebody please, tell me what I’ve done wrong. I put in the work.

Roosh likes to call people trolls for complaining about their situation and not doing anything to fix it. But I have done stuff to fix it. I’ve tried everything. I’ve gone to the ends of the earth. I’ve experimented and braved fearsome situations and put my reputation and even my physical safety on the line all in the name of conquering fears so that I’d be better able to attract women.

I did the work. And I want to know why it hasn’t worked.

Please help.

Sincerely, Daniel