Red Flags Are A Green Light

July 8, 2020June 11, 2022 Rob Says12 Comments

“Red flags are a green light.” – Jack Napier and Troy Francis, I believe.

The picture in this post is one that my girl “Kitten” sent me when we first started seeing each other. I cropped her face out for privacy reasons, but rest assured, that’s her.

“Kitten” has more red flags than a communist flag parade. She tatted up to beat the band, she has more tattoos than I do and that’s saying something. She’s got more drama than a New York play, and issues? Oh my hell, the girl has them in spades. Basically she is crazy as a shithouse rat.

I’m not saying all of this stuff to bash on her. She’s a great woman. And the sex… Until you’ve had sex with a bonafide crazy chick, you haven’t had mindblowing, roll your eyes in the back of your head, forget your name, dehydrate your body sex.

The thing is, I knew right from the start what I was getting myself into. I knew about a great majority of her red flags, and I was willing to listen to her when she would open up her mouth and more red flags would fall out. Women will do that if you let them. If they are crazy, they will tell you if you will only let them and listen to them and not judge them for it.

I knew what I was getting myself into so when things started to go sideways, I saw it coming and was able to get out of the way of the the inevitable trainwreck that was coming my way. “Kitten” has since moved on to another guy and is sharing her drama with him now. Not my circus, not my monkey’s.

Would I have sex with her again? Sure, why not? She’s a great lay. That and she’s an all around fun girl to be with. Not only was the sex great, but our conversations were pretty cool too. We could talk about anything and everything under the sun and the moon, and she had some bizarre but cool ideas about how she saw the world. Would I commit to her, play house with her, and wife her up though? Not a chance in hell.

“Kitten” was a woman that I had an immediate sexual attraction to from the first time I laid eyes on her and I knew she felt the same way about me right off the bat. It was a mutual attraction and it was delicious. It took quite some time for her and I to get together but it happened eventually. I have no regrets.

Lots of guys on the internet talk about red flags, even I have talked about them in the past myself. It’s good to know red flags when you see them so that you are aware of them and you can act accordingly.

That being said, there’s nothing wrong with a woman with a bunch of red flags. Red flags are a green light if you know what you want from that encounter. Crazy chicks can be a huge amount of drama and they can be a drain on you, especially on your energy and your emotions. They can even be dangerous, and I mean that in a “stabby” way. Then again, some of the craziest women I have met have also been the most adventurous when it comes to damn near anything.

Want to have sex in public and film it while you are at it? A crazy woman will do that. Chances are a crazy woman will indulge whatever demented fantasy you have. Chances are she’s done it before and has even done things that you haven’t, or that you haven’t even thought of.

A lot of guys give women with red flags a bad rap. I can understand why to a degree. Maybe they got too close to the fire and they got burned. I know I have. I made the mistake years ago and married crazy. I learned from that experience though and thankfully my ex-wife wasn’t “stabby” crazy.

I won’t lie, I have a certain predilection towards crazy. Maybe it’s because “I ain’t fully right” either. I like the drama up to a point. I realize that everybody has some form of drama to one degree or another, and if you honestly don’t, well then you haven’t really lived.

Would I want a long term relationship with a woman who has a septum ring? Hell no. Those nose rings usually knock a woman’s attractiveness down a good solid two points. But would I want to hook a chain through that ring and literally lead her around my house and maybe my neighborhood while she is on her hands and knees? You better believe it. That’s hot.

Do I generally like multiple, unnaturally colored hair on a woman? Not usually. But I love seeing that shit bunched up in my fist as I’m pulling on it.

A woman with more tattoos than I have will give me a minute’s pause, but goddamn I want to see all of her artwork and hear the stories, if any, behind them as I’m licking them. I want to touch all of her tattoos lightly with my fingers so that I can feel the ridges and the textures, and trust me, there are ridges and textures to tattoos. You’ll know them when you feel them. It’s my own version of reading braille.

Why am I reminiscing about “Kitten” and talking about women with red flags? Why am I bringing it up? Because I’m missing my dose of crazy. I’m feeling the urge to complicate my life to a degree and diving back into the pool of crazy. Lately I’ve been thinking about goth chicks. The blacker the eyeliner, the more multicolored hair, the blacker the dress, the more tattoos and piercings the better. I’ve never said that I’m the role model that you’ve been looking for.

A lot of guys will try and steer you clear of a woman with red flags and I get it. If you are looking for a woman to commit to, these woman are probably a bad idea. If you have no experience with them, you can end up with huge regrets. But then again, how can you get experience with them unless you actually take the plunge and figure it out for yourself?

Know what you want when you are dealing with a woman with a bunch of red flags. Know what the potential fallout could be. But then again, red flags are a green light and some of my most intense and memorable memories have been with crazy chicks and I’m still here running my mouth.

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Never Tell Me The Odds..

June 15, 2020June 11, 2022 Rob Says4 Comments

scientific calculator ii

I had a really interesting conversation with a young man a few days ago. This young man identifies with the “Black Pill Community.” He’s highly intelligent, not bad looking from what I can tell, and he’s short, like me. He’s my height to be exact, which is 5’4.

We had a couple of conversations that lasted well over 4 hours total and it was educating and interesting to me to listen to his take on how things are and why they are the way they are.

Now granted, I’m not this young man. I don’t have his life experiences. I don’t live where he lives. My culture and society is slightly different from his if I had to guess. He brought up a lot of statistics and numbers about a lot of different things.

Are taller men more desirable to women? I would say yes. Are there certain genetic features and traits that women find more desirable than others? Sure, why not? I know I’m no different when it comes to finding certain traits and features more desirable than others.

Honestly though, I don’t care.

I don’t care that women in general may find taller men more attractive and more desirable than a short guy like me. That just means that I have to work at it more. Yeah it sucks, but that’s life. I can’t do anything about being short, it’s totally out of my control, so I’m not going to worry about it and I’m not going to make an issue out of it.

I don’t care that some women are attracted to younger men than me. I don’t care if she happens to like guys with a full head of hair and I’m bald. That’s another thing that I can’t do much about, so I shave my head and roll with that instead.

If I had to be honest with myself on the “Attractiveness Scale,” I’m a 5. On a good day. Maybe I’m even lower when you factor my height, my baldness, and even my age in.

I don’t care.

Never tell me the odds. – Han Solo

I don’t care what your statistics say. I don’t care if the odds are against me. I’m going to do it anyway. I will succeed. It might take more time, more approaches, more work, more whatever, but I will succeed. Failure and giving up is just not an option for me. The only way that anyone will stop me is they are going to have to kill me.

Statistically, I shouldn’t be successful with women. My height, my looks, my baldness, and even my age statistically should be working against me. I shouldn’t have had all of the sex and relationships that I have had. But I’ve had them and I’m going to have many more before I die.

It’s because I don’t care about statistics, genetics, and the odds. And you’re going to have to kill me to stop me.

The woman you approached shot you down? That sucks. Try again. And again. And again. Keep going, keep at it. Look at what you said and did and try something else, do something a little differently. I believe the term is called “calibration.”

One thing I’ve learned about approaching women is that it’s a numbers game a lot of the time. Many times I’ve simply been the “right guy at the right place at the right time.” I don’t delude myself into thinking I’m some sort of Mr. Suave pickup artist because I’m not. To quote Rian Stone: “Don’t care, got laid.”

My “game” is very simple: I see a woman that I find attractive and I pay attention to anything she puts out there that shows me that she may in fact be attracted to me. If she makes eye contact, looks away, looks back again, smiles, giggles, and plays with her hair or her clothes? I’m going to talk to her.

What am I going to say? Other than “Hi, you look like you’re fun! What’s your name?” I have no idea. Whatever falls out of my mouth is where I go from there. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I make an ass out of myself. I don’t care. It was fun while it lasted and there’s always another woman to talk to.

More often my boldness and willingness to walk up and talk pays off more than not.

I’ve had several women over the course of my life tell me, “You have balls.” Apparently that was what it took to pull them to me. So that’s my “game.”

Statistically many guys and women for that matter, shouldn’t be walking the earth. And yet they are. Why is that?

Shut up, I don’t care.

I’m short, I’m bald, I’m not wealthy, and I’m not jacked. I’m a 5. Oh boo hoo, woe is me. I might as well give up because the odds are against me and the competition is just too much and is too fierce. Might as well just pack it in and go home.

Except I don’t care about any of that. I approach because that’s what I want to do. Why? Because women are more fun than using my hand. Because women add value to my life and I enjoy their company. Because women smell and look nice. And there’s nothing like seeing the look on a woman’s face when she will do anything for you. That, and they’re just plain fun.

You can tell me that the odds are against me, and you’ll probably be right. But I don’t care. I don’t care about the odds or your stats and graphs. I’m going to do what I want to do and I’ll succeed.

If I can do it once, I can do it again. And so I do. So can you.

While genetics and looks play a part, I truly believe it is your attitude or your “will” that matters more. Your “mindset.” This applies to any endeavor in life, whether it’s a job, making money, attracting women, having relationships, making friends, or anything else.

When the young man and I finished our conversations I realized something:

He hates being “Black Pilled.” He hates being a part of that “community.” And yet, he’s invested himself in it. It’s become a part of his identity. He wants a way out, but not really.

I find it sad that he takes bitter comfort in statistics and odds and numbers, because I don’t. But then again, like I told him, “I’m not here to save you from yourself. You can listen to what I say and do with it what you will. All of your statistics may in fact be ‘true,’ but are you good with that? Does that bring you any happiness or joy? Does it make your life better for you? Or do you want to do something else?”

Either way, he gets to burn.

Never tell me the odds, I don’t care.

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Comeuppance

June 10, 2020June 11, 2022 Rob Says6 Comments

happy businessman checking message on smartphone in downtown alley — He just saw the latest “revenge porn” story.

I watched a couple of Rian Stone’s latest videos on his channel recently and he’s going over some material that has been in circulation now for nearly 8 years. The two latest videos that caught my attention was Michael’s story and Confessions of a Reformed Incel. In both videos, Rian points out and breaks down some really interesting information, and what is interesting and a little sad to me is that “what is old is new again.” Not to sound like a cliche, but the more things change, the more they stay the same. Check out those videos though, they are worth the time and worth the price of admission.

One of the things that really stood out for me was the bitterness that both guys had towards women in particular, “Chad’s,” and society in general. I can see why “revenge/outrage porn” stories have their appeal. It’s men getting a sense of justice, even if they are living it vicariously through a story of another man “who got his.” It’s women getting their comeuppance for their shitty behavior and their shitty choices from their pasts. I understand this. Hell, just thinking about it gives me “warm and fuzzies” at least for a moment.

But here’s the reality:

Kaylene speaking to Michael: “Michael let me tell you something: not only am I going to have my cake eat it and eat it too. I’m going to have it with ice cream and sprinkles”. All of the girls laughed and smiled in agreement.

Source

Some men like to think that women will “pay” for their poor choices that they made while they were younger, and in all honesty, some of them do. The real reality though is that most won’t pay for their poor choices because they won’t have to. There are plenty of beta males ready and willing to forgive them of their sins and ready and willing to wife them up. There is an ocean of guys ready and willing to give them a pass.

Understand that “the pretty people” have had it good for the younger parts of their lives and for the most part, they will go right on enjoying their lives at least into middle age or beyond. Just because you chose an air of superiority and chose not to participate doesn’t mean that others won’t. People living the “good” life tend to go on living the “good” life. Sorry if you find that disappointing.

You have a couple of options:

You can stay bitter and probably end up unhappy and possibly alone for the rest of your life. If you are young, say around 25, you have roughly another 50 years of life ahead of you. That’s a long time to be bitter and possibly alone. I’m not talking about the Lonely Old Man Myth here, but it will be a possible choice that you may have to face down the road.
You can “settle” for “used goods.” Guess what? Most women are going to be sexually active because it’s encouraged and because they can. Again, you can hang on to your anger and bitterness, and you can take on the role of provider/plow horse and maybe you’ll get sex from your wife who isn’t interested in you once or twice a year. But hey, you got to be a Dad right? If you think this way, your entitlement and your bitterness is still showing. You get the woman and the relationship you deserve.
You can say fuck it all and walk away. Plenty of guys go this route. Maybe it’s for you. It’s not for me. It seems too much like surrender and giving up. If you are young, you still have the rest of your life ahead of you to figure out what you are going to do with your time. Don’t worry though, you’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.
You can accept reality for what it is and you can join in on the fun. Instead of being angry that things aren’t the way that you think they should be, you can accept them for what they are and enjoy yourself, your life, and the women that show up in your life. Not all women are absolute whores. Not all of them have made the shittiest of shitty decisions. You won’t know that though if you can’t get outside of your bitterness and your ideals. You can have all sorts of amazing experiences with a bunch of amazing women and who knows, one of them could turn into something that could possibly last you the rest of your life.

I don’t know about you, but I know for me I would rather be on my deathbed with all of my memories of the people I have met and the things I have done than dying alone, which we all do anyways, with nothing but regret and ideals swimming in my head of things that never were and would never be. You see, I don’t regret the things I have done. I don’t regret the things that didn’t work out the way that I had hoped they would. I regret the things that I haven’t done and now that window of opportunity is gone. I regret not making certain decisions and certain choices and taking certain actions, because now I’ll never know how those things could have turned out. That’s what I regret. Ideals of what “ought” to be and fear paralyzed me into doing nothing and that is the biggest regret of all.

Comeuppance is a great dopamine hit. It’s that satisfaction that “Karen” got what was coming to her in the end. The real truth though is that comeuppance is just another form of mental masturbation. It’s another coping mechanism to get you out of taking responsibility for your own life and your own choices. It’s another way for you to not take action or do anything but it sure feels like you are doing something.

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