Author: Rob Says

A man who loves and likes women.

Spinning Plates: From Theory To Application

Rob Says1 Comment

I don’t know if Rollo Tomassi was the first to coin the phrase, “Spinning Plates,” but it was his blog where I first heard it put the way that it is.

You all know what it is right? It’s where you are non-exclusive and date and/or have sex with multiple women instead of just dating and/or fucking one.

From what I remember reading and talking to a whole bunch of guys online about it, it’s probably the most effective way for a man to maximize his own sexual strategy. It’s also a great way to gain experience with many women in a short time, relatively speaking. Whether that experience is sexual, just with women in general, or some combination of the aforementioned.

Real quick, I don’t care if you have sex with the women that you date or not, that’s up to you. This isn’t about morality or religion, just that it’s simply a way of you, as a man, maximizing your options and getting as much experience with women as possible. So fuck her or don’t, that’s up to you.

Here’s where I’m ultimately going with all of this though, and I’m speaking from personal experience:

Talking, reading, and watching videos about “spinning plates” is all fine in theory. The thing is, most guys have never “spun plates” before, until they have.

Right up until I was 42 and freshly divorced, I had never “spun plates.” I did what most guys that I have talked to, do: I dated one woman at a time, and when it didn’t work out, I had no options and was back to “square one.” I did this for most of my life. It’s “what you did.” It was what was “expected.” And it’s what most guys did, and still do. Even at my current age. This is called “serial dating,” or “serial monogamy.”

So hearing and reading about “spinning plates” sounds great! Until you actually go out and do it.

First, you have to decide that is what you are going to do. If you are like I was when I made this decision, you’re single with no current options, no women in sight. But hey! “I’m the prize, Alpha Male, Red Pill Aware!” So you go out, meet a woman either in real life (yeah right) or you go online and match with someone.

So you meet up, get to talking, and eventually the question comes up: “So what are you looking for?” And you tell her something along the lines of “you just want to date, be non-exclusive,” and go from there.

Now, one of two things typically happen:

She’s either good with it, because she’s already spinning plates herself and you could be the next guy in the rotation, or she tells you something like, “I don’t share, no thanks.” And out the door she goes. You could run after her, but then you wouldn’t “be the prize” right? Besides that, you wouldn’t be spinning plates. You would be back to dating one woman at a time.

Side note: Having a string of one-night stands or same day lays from different women isn’t spinning plates. That’s just having a good fucking time. Spinning plates is where you have multiple women that you are seeing multiple times over a period of time. “Mini-relationships” if you will.

So maybe you get one that’s fine with you dating other women, and she’s seeing other guys, because she will be seeing other guys. She always has more options than you. Always. I don’t care how much of a “prize” or how “Alpha” you are.

So you are seeing her and if you have Game and are persistent, maybe you get another woman onboard. Now you have two! Now you are spinning plates. Maybe it’s only two, but two is good enough for starts. Maybe you go crazy with it and pull a third and a fourth. Congratulations! You are really spinning plates!

Man, life is fucking great!

Except:

You only have so many hours in the day. If you’re like me, you have a full time job, or you go to school, or some combination. You only have so many hours to do things like eat and sleep. You might have friends and activities that you like to do that don’t involve your women. How can you keep it all up? I’m not going to lie, it can be exhausting. Especially if you like sex, they like sex, and you’re giving her the “good sex.” You’re doing that, right?

Have you ever heard the phrase, “There’s only so much water in the fountain.” No? Good. Now you have. The most sex I’ve had was 3 different women in the same day. 1 early in the morning. 1 in the early afternoon. The morning chick came back for a quickie right after the early afternoon one left, the afternoon chick came back for something in the early evening, and then the third showed up around 11pm for some loving. I learned my limitations. 5 times total in one day will do it for me. But that’s with three different women too.

This is coming from a guy who had never “spun plates” before. It was all so new and all so fun, confusing, exciting, and tiresome too, as you can see.

The idea of “spinning plates” is to gain experience and “get what you want.” Eventually one of the women stood out to me. We had some spectacular sex, got along famously, and I enjoyed her company immensely, so I found myself spending more time with her, and less time with the others. We even got into some “routines” where there were certain days that I always saw her.

Until I didn’t.

“Hey, wanna get together tomorrow night?”

“I can’t. I have a date.”

Insert gut and ball punch here.

I knew she was seeing other guys. I even knew about them and had met one of them. (More on this later.)

It didn’t “shatter my world.” But it shook it up.

And this is the part that I wanted to get to. This is where we go from theory to reality and real life experience. This is the part that no one talks about. Remember, I’m talking specifically to guys who have never actually “spun plates” before. This is your first time. Before this, you “serial dated.”

Whenever you spend time around someone you end up genuinely liking, you develop feelings for them. You care about them. You like spending time around them. And if you’re fucking them, you like fucking them.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have a date.”

And then all sorts of blind spots that you didn’t know you had, show up in full force.

Jealousy. Insecurity. “What does that motherfucker have that I don’t?” It all hits you in the face, the gut, and the balls. But not you, right? You got this. You’re “the prize.” You’re an “Alpha Male.” You’re “Red Pill Aware.”

If you don’t have some sort of gut reaction, especially if this is your first time, well Bubba, you’ve not learned a thing. Maybe all you want to do is masturbate with another body, and I know I have in the past, because it is better than using your hand, but at the same time, sex, dating, and relating are less fulfilling, at least to me, if that’s all that’s going on.

So you either “play it cool,” or you go passive-aggressive, or some other self-sabotaging behavior. I don’t care, it doesn’t matter. But it does. This is where you learn where some of your blind-spots are. This is where you get to learn about you.

When I first met my ex-girlfriend, she was dating other dudes. I know because she told me. I decided that I was “cool with it” and that I could deal with that. And I did until she told me, “I can’t. I have a date that night.”

Then all the bullshit inside me, all of the jealousy and insecurities started showing up, even though I was seeing other women at the time. “What does she see in him that she doesn’t see in me?” “What am I lacking?”

The truth was, I wasn’t “lacking” anything. It wasn’t about me. It’s just what she wanted to do. She wanted to date multiple men. The way I came to realize this was two things:

  1. When she was with me, she was only with me. Guys would text her while we were together, she ignored them. She only focused on me. What she did when she wasn’t with me wasn’t my business or my concern. But when she was with me, she was with me.
  2. When I was with other women, it was about my experience. It wasn’t that she lacked anything, it’s just what I wanted to do at that time, what I wanted to do at that current moment. She didn’t lack anything.

The final “test” if you will, happened when one night we were out and about and we ran into one of the other guy’s that she was dating. She didn’t just want to blow him off or ignore him, so she told me who he was and wanted to say hello to him. Strangely, I was okay with this. I got to meet him, shake his hand, and size him up. This wasn’t an “old flame,” or an ex. This was another guy that she was currently dating and fucking.

I’m not going to lie, it was awkward. We didn’t become “besties.” We didn’t become friends. But I did get to see who he was. I got to see why she was attracted to him as well as to me. I got to see the things that he “brought to the table” that I didn’t. But I also got to see the why she was attracted to me as well. I know what I “bring to the table.”

And I was genuinely okay with all of it. He wasn’t “competition.” He wasn’t the “enemy.” I could see that he felt as awkward and uncomfortable as I did.

I have talked to some guys over the years who have taken “plate spinning” from theory to practice and almost every one of them have encountered these two scenarios. Being told, “I can’t. I have a date.” And sometimes actually meeting one or more of the “other” guy’s. It’s what will let you know if you can actually handle “spinning plates” or not.

Most guys who have never “spun plates” can’t handle it. The blind spots, the insecurities, the jealousy. They’ve never done something like this before and it sounded great in theory until the reality slapped them in the face and balls. And so they go back to serial dating. Much like many guys who get divorced end up re-marrying shortly after their divorce.

It’s hard to break the “programming” you have received from your parents, society, and culture. It’s hard to walk into the unknown. It’s hard to “deal with your demons” when they show up unexpectedly. It’s hard to acknowledge your blind spots when they are revealed to you. That’s the actual Red Pill. You won’t get it from a book, blog, course, or a video. You can only get it from experience, and it’s almost always a woman that actually “red pills” you.

I’m not saying “Don’t spin plates.” I’m saying the exact opposite. I’m saying do it. But the question is, can you? Most guys can’t if they haven’t done it. And most guys don’t have the “stomach” for it when the reality hits them in the face. That’s the practical side, if you will.

When I first met my belly dancer, she was already “spinning her own plates.” She had met a guy before she met me. I was, and am, okay with that. I was already spinning a couple of plates of my own when I met her. Over time, she had told me about the “other guy.” Turns out he’s never “spun plates” before, but was willing to “give it a go.” And things were good, until they weren’t. Turns out “spinning plates” isn’t his thing. He broke things off with her and started serial dating again. All I could do when I heard this was think, “Of course. It’s what he knows. It’s what he’s familiar with and what he is comfortable with.”

It sounded good in theory to him, until she told him, “I can’t. I have a date. I have plans for that weekend.”

Think you can handle being told, “I can’t. I have a date. I have plans.” Think you can handle meeting one of her “other guys?” Because one or both of those things will happen to you eventually. Are you ready to deal with your blind-spots when she reveals them to you? Because she will. Not that she knows that they are your blind-spots, but she will reveal them to you. Are you ready for that? Think you can handle it?

If you think you can, great! Spinning plates may in fact, be for you. If not, you have work to do. That, or go back to serial dating.

It’s All For The Greater Good

Rob Says1 Comment
It’s all for the greater good.

It’s a nice sentiment, it really is. Many people have said it over the years. A couple of people who said it that come to my mind are:

Adolf Hitler.

Josef Stalin.

Pol Pot.

And pretty much every tyrannical dictator who has come to power has said it. It’s all for the greater good.

The “greater good” is just another ideal. It’s another container word filled with nothing except what you put into it. I promise you, Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot had a different idea of what the “greater good” was, than what you think it is.

In the screen shot I posted above, I was having a conversation with the individual in question. Here’s the entire conversation between the two of us:

“It’s men leading humankind toward collective greatness – for country, for glory, for God.”

I don’t think either Hitler or Stalin could have said it better. Change up the country, glory, and God container words and you have a winner. Country is nothing more than the place you reside in. Most of you were born where you live. Glory? What is glory? Being glorified for taking a bullet for someone else? Glory for giving up your time, energy, finances, and ultimately your life so that someone else may benefit from it?

What am I going to receive for signing up for your ideals? What am I going to receive for joining your cause? Spare me the bullshit about the afterlife, I’m not interested in it. There’s been no empirical evidence to suggest that God or the afterlife exist, so I’m not taking any chances there. I want my benefits and rewards in the here and now, and they had better be tangible. I had better be able to see them, touch them, taste them, use them, or at least put them in my pocket and take them home with me.

Screw your 72 virgins in the afterlife, I want them now before I blow myself into oblivion. And who said that I was going to martyr myself for your cause?

What. Is. In. It. For. Me.

Plenty of causes and ideals out there, plenty of ways to waste your time and your life on your own dime, for somebody who isn’t you or yours. Do you really want to sacrifice yourself, your time, your money, your energy, or even your life for…. Words?

Freedom and Liberty. Two more words that mean nothing by themselves. Two more container words. Like I said in my earlier post: I promise you, my idea of freedom and liberty are going to be different from yours.

I don’t know who this anonymous individual is, nor do I care so much either. What I do gather is that he is either really young and naive, perhaps under the age of 35. I get it. I too, was once young and naive. I too, used to be an idealist. I too, used to live for container words. But then I grew up and opened my eyes. It became time to put away childish things and get to the business of living and enjoying my life instead of playing word games. I hope that this individual is indeed young, because if he’s older than 35:

He’s an idiot. A useful idiot to be sure, but an idiot nonetheless. Every cause and every ideal needs useful idiots. They are the blood and sweat of the engine. They are the ones who actually believe in the container words and carry out the deeds. They are the ones who are the cannon fodder when the bullets rain down. They are also the ones who end up against the wall when it’s time for the purge, and every movement with a cause, an ideal, has a purge.

I have no patience or time for idiots, useful or otherwise. I got shit to do.

You know what’s for the greater good of me? Corned beef hash, eggs, bacon, and sourdough toast. For dinner. You know what else is for the greater good of me? Beer. And the final and most important greater good for me is…

If you guessed poontang, you would be correct.

Fuck your container words, I’m not interested in your ideals or your cause unless there is something tangible in it for me that I can receive sooner rather than later. If not, go pound sand.

You Got Me Under Pressure

Rob Says6 Comments

On Saturday night, the 8th of May, I stayed over at the belly dancer’s house, like I typically do on every other weekend or so. We had our drinks, had our fun, shot the shit, played music, and did the stuff that most couples do.

Around midnight, I was delirious because I had slept like shit the night before. I had gone to bed around midnight on Friday night/Saturday morning and was woke up by one of my cat’s puking. I swear the sound of them “going to the club” could wake the dead. By the time that I got done dealing with puke and a miserable cat, I was too wired to go back to sleep and so I ended up staying awake for the entire rest of my Saturday. By that night I was beyond exhausted. Shortly after midnight I was out.

Around 3:30 in the morning, I hear a smoke detector going off. In my sleep deprived state, I initially thought it was part of a dream that I was having. Then I smelled smoke. It smelled like someone had extinguished a candle, but the odor was much stronger.

It was about that time that I heard my belly dancer talking to her kids. Apparently I wasn’t dreaming and the fucking smoke detector was going off. I slowly woke up and listened to her and her kids. The kids were up, which wasn’t too far of a stretch since they are mostly night owls, and I could hear that they were telling her that they hadn’t been lighting candles or doing anything else. In fact, the smoke detector had woke them up as well.

Shit.

This wasn’t a false alarm or a drill. This was the real deal. I could still smell smoke and I jumped out of bed and immediately put my pants, shirt, and socks on. I grabbed my shoes and jacket and started out of the bedroom.

My belly dancer’s daughter was in her room and I told her it was time to go and checked to make sure that everyone else was out of there. My belly dancer’s son had the dog in his arms and he was following his mom out the front door. I corralled the daughter and her boyfriend out the door and joined them on the porch. Everyone had been accounted for other than the cat.

My belly dancer was on the phone with 911 and was telling them what the situation was. About that time the smoke detector stopped doing its thing. Her son had said that he had walked around the house’s perimeter and he couldn’t see smoke or any flames. My belly dancer relayed that information to the dispatcher. This whole time I was silent and sat down and put my jacket and shoes on.

My belly dancer hung up with 911 and said that the fire department was on the way. While we were standing there, waiting, I decided to do a little investigation of my own. I wanted to see if I could find her cat (yeah right, good luck with that) and also there were a couple of rooms in the basement that hadn’t been cleared.

One thing that my belly dancer told me while I was putting my shoes on was that she had her furnace cleaned out the day before and hadn’t turned it on since the cleaning. She also mentioned that she had woke up a few minutes before the detector went off, because it was cold, and that she had turned the furnace on.

I told her that the furnace was probably burning something off from the cleaning and that that was probably the source of the smell and the smoke. I decided that was going to be part of my investigation, so back into the house I went.

The smoke smell had dissipated a lot by then. I cleared all the rooms in the upstairs first, and then went downstairs. No cat to be seen or found, which I didn’t really think I would find him. He knows his own house and bolt holes better than I do. I got to the furnace and the smoke smell was there, pretty strong. There was no visible smoke and no flames or fire.

I moved on to the other rooms to find the walls, doors, everything I touched to be ice cold. If there was a fire in there, it wasn’t close to any doors, but I wasn’t going to open them. I’ve seen Backdraft too many times. Besides, I’m no firefighter.

About the time I went back upstairs the firetruck pulled up. The crew wasn’t running lights and sirens, thank God. No need to wake the neighborhood up for no reason if that was the case.

They came in, checked the smoke detectors to make sure they weren’t malfunctioning, had their own IR camera to check the walls, ceilings, and floors for any unusual heat, and also had their own portable smoke detector to double check things.

About 20 minutes later they gave us the “all clear” and said that there was no fires going on in the house and that we could go back inside. The belly dancer told them about the furnace and they said that it was most likely the culprit and that she needed to have the HVAC people take a look at it sooner than later and make sure that everything was working okay on it. With that, they left and we went back to bed.

Now when I say we went back to bed, I could have gone back to sleep almost immediately because I was still exhausted from the prior nights lack of sleep. It was now 4:30 in the morning. Not my belly dancer though, she was wired. She wanted to talk about the last hour of events apparently.

Normally I would have told her, “Let’s talk about this later in the morning,” but I could see she needed to say whatever it was that was on her mind, and get it off her chest, so to speak.

“Every time I’m with you, I learn something new about you,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Tonight, during all of this chaos, you were unshakeable. You were the calm inside the storm. You didn’t panic or freak out, or anything. If anything, you calmed me down just with your presence and your matter-of-fact attitude when it came to putting on your shoes and jacket. You didn’t seem stressed out about it at all.”

“That’s because panicking during a crisis doesn’t help anything and if anything, it makes it worse,” I told her.

“I know, but I’ve never seen you ‘under pressure,’ you know? You just seemed like, ‘I’ve got this.'”

I just shrugged and smirked at her. “Hey, it’s me.”

She was looking at me differently than usual this whole time. Her eyes were shining and I could tell that she was aroused. I could see something else there as well. Respect.

You want to know someone’s real character? See how they act and behave under pressure or during a crisis. You’ll see what they are made of. All of the bullshit, bravado, and whatever “macho façade” that they have going on will either be proven correct, or you’ll know just how full of shit they really are.