Tag: red pill

Not Fucking Is The New Kewl

Rob Says2 Comments
Polish_20191028_122758795
The New Virtue Signalling

Not fucking doesn’t make you cool. It just makes you inexperienced.

According to recent developments in my “corner” of the Twitterverse, abstaining (i.e. not fucking) is the new cool. Now it’s not about how much experience you have, but the experience of not having. The above screenshot was a reply to a thread that was started by a epiphany phase woman, here’s the original tweet that started it all:

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“For the record, I find men that have restraint over their biological urges and deeper goals than “getting laid” as quite impressive.” Apparently, in order to be “a Real Man” these days, you shouldn’t be fucking. Your abstinence and restraint are what make you “a Real Man” in 2019. Who knew?

“I want a Man with very little experience!” – Said no woman ever.

Guys, if you are going to actually listen to this form of nonsense, you’ll just be chasing your tails. You get experience with women by doing things with women. Fucking is doing something with women. Fucking is experience. It may not be the be all, end all of experiences, but it’s up there. I’ve met plenty of women who I had very little in common with, other than sex, who kept coming back for more, than the other way around.

All of the women that I’ve had the pleasure to meet, whether I had sex with them or not, wanted or want, a Man with experience. And by experience, yes, they meant in the bedroom. Young women, older women, short women, tall women, thin women, fat women, it didn’t matter. All of them want or wanted a Man with experience.

I don’t know why, but the original post smacks of dishonesty and disingeniousness for me. It’s a bald-face lie as far as I’m concerned. And the reply that I posted above it is nothing but virtue signalling on another level.

“Don’t judge a man by the number of women he sleeps with but, rather, the number of women he decides not to sleep with, because he thinks it would be inappropriate, to do so.” Do you know what’s inappropriate? Turning down a woman who you are sexually turned on by, and she is turned on by you. Actually, maybe it’s not inappropriate, but it’s fucking stupid.

Here’s something to understand:

If a woman presents herself to you and wants to have sex with you, and you turn her down, you’ll never get another chance with her, and that’s okay if you don’t want to have sex with her. But if you do want to have sex with her, good luck salvaging that one.

“I can’t have sex with you, that would be inappropriate.” You have no idea how many times I had to hit backspace and type that one over again. I couldn’t keep a straight face and I couldn’t stop laughing. I kept misspelling it and fucking it up.

I’ve not met a woman to date that had or has an issue with my so-called “notch count.” They don’t care how I got my experience. They are glad that I have it.

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This reply sounds like some guy who belongs to the “Club For Those Who Aren’t Fucking.” Newsflash: You’re not going to humble a woman by not sleeping with her. You’re going to piss her off. And she’ll just go and find someone who will fuck her. This guy is simply justifying his lack of sex. “She wouldn’t fuck me… Well, I didn’t want to fuck her anyways! That’ll show her!”

“The man expresses that he isn’t over-indulgent and also that he is a master, not a slave to his own body.” I think this guy is…I don’t even know where to begin or what to say honestly. I’m not a “slave” to my own body. Nature designed it for fucking, so I fuck when I want to. Being “over-indulgent” is nothing but a morality statement, and you can take your morality statement and shove it up your ass. I’d rather be fucking than not fucking. Indulgence isn’t compulsion. Compulsion is slavery, indulgence is choice. This guy is conflating the two.

How is it “better” for both men and women if the man shows self-restraint? I thought it was better to “scratch that itch,” have an orgasm, and enjoy each other? War is Peace. Slavery is Freedom. Abstinence is Sex. Restraint is Release. Jesus wept.

What a world we are now living in. For the longest time, it’s been “worship the woman and her holy vagina.” Now it’s evolving into “The worship of everything about women except their vagina.” – h/t to Rian Stone for this quote.

Men will always want to get laid, it’s hardwired into them. For those who don’t or can’t, I guess it’s turning into, “Well I didn’t want her pussy anyways! Look at me being abstinent and virtuous!” The more things change the more they stay the same really. Welcome to a “New Puritanical Age.”

Fuck it. You want to be a part of the “My Experience Is Not Having Experience Club,” knock yourself out. You get to burn.

Barring that, I guess you can always join a religion that promises virgins in the afterlife for you. Fucking ghosts may be the next “new thing.” Who knows?

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Demonstrating Higher Value

Rob Says3 Comments

man wearing blue suit

I’ve seen a lot of guys talking over the years about demonstrating higher value, or DHV. Now, here’s the thing, I’ve seen a lot of guys talking about it, what it is, what it means, all sorts of definitions and whatnot.

What I haven’t seen though is a lot of guys actually demonstrating higher value. DHV is the acronym for it, of course. Lots of guys have come to a consensus as to what higher is, and what value is. They are missing the most important part of it though. Demonstrating.

Demonstrating is actually doing. It’s not thinking about it, it’s not talking about it. It’s actually taking some form of action, and doing it. Lots of guys are missing this important distinction. You have to actually demonstrate. You have to actually do.

You walk into a room and you feel like “the man.” Yet, you don’t do anything. You see a beautiful woman standing there, giving you all sorts of “indicators of interest,” and yet you do nothing. You freeze, you hesitate, and another opportunity is lost.

Understand this:

Maybe you are in fact, the Man. Maybe you have more money than Carter has liver pills. Maybe you know all sorts of people from all over the world. Maybe you know how to dress to kill. Maybe you’re even in good shape. Maybe you’re “The Most Interesting Man In The World.” All of that makes you a rare commodity in today’s world. But if you don’t act, if you don’t demonstrate, all that other stuff doesn’t count for shit.

Men and women out there, out in “the real world,” most likely they don’t know you. They no nothing about you except for what they see, and if you don’t demonstrate, if you don’t act, they’ll dismiss you and forget all about you. You’ll be just another dude in the bar, another face in the crowd. You’ll be forgotten and you’ll be invisible. You’ll literally cease to exist to them, no matter what you think of yourself. No matter what you think you want to do.

You have to act. You have to demonstrate. Stop thinking about what DHV is, and start displaying it. Start showing other people your own higher value. Otherwise, all your thoughts and discussions about what DHV is, is mental masturbation. You’re just jerking off in your own mind.

It can be hard getting out of your head and into your body, but that’s what has to happen. That’s the only way you are going to stop thinking and start acting. Stop worrying about what DHV is or isn’t, it doesn’t matter except in the circle jerk that you are having with your buddies online, or in your own mind.

It doesn’t matter “why” a woman does whatever she does. Ultimately she does whatever she is doing because she can. Whether you think that she thinks you’re too short, too tall, too thin, too fat, too young, or too old, is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter what she thinks honestly. It’s either a yes or it’s a no from her. That’s all that is relevant. Yes or no. That’s it.

I take it a step further and it’s either a hell yes, or a fuck no. That’s all that matters to me. Everything else is just details, and most of the time, they don’t matter much. They definitely don’t matter as much as you are making them out to be, so stop that.

Most guys I’ve had the pleasure to meet have one thing in common:

They over-analyze things to the point of ludicrious and ridiculous. They get so caught up in the nuances and the tiniest of tweaks. That’s great if you can act. That’s great if you can approach. It’s great when you’ve got a solid game plan going on and you are running tight game and you’re seeing some results.

If you can’t act? If you can’t or won’t approach? You are just stepping on your own dick. You are shooting yourself in the foot. All those tweaks and nuances don’t mean shit if you can’t simply talk to that woman in front of you. Or that guy, if you are doing a business deal, or whatever it is that you’re hoping to get out of that encounter. Get out of your heads. Get into your body instead. The only way I can really describe it is, be in the present moment. Diminish your thoughts, or ideally, shut them off. At least for that particular moment.

Stop worrying if she is a “quality woman.” She isn’t. She’s just a woman. Better yet, she’s not even that. She’s just a girl. Girls are fun. Girls aren’t scary. Girls are goofy. Stop worrying about trying to “wife her up on the first date.” That’s just thirsty and pathetic. Stop worrying about how you’ll be perceived by your buddies in the bar if you get shut down. Guess what? Nobody is watching and nobody gives a shit.

Find that one thing that you can admire about that woman, for just that one moment. Then get the fuck out of your head and into your body and just go. Approach. Dance. Talk. Do something. Demonstrate your higher value.

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The Red Pill Ruined My Metal

Rob Says1 Comment

guitarist of greyscale photo

I was a kid back in the ’80’s when I first got introduced to heavy metal/hard rock. My first heavy metal/hard rock album was Ozzy Osbourne’s “Bark At The Moon.” That was followed up soon after by Twisted Sister’s “Stay Hungry,” and Quiet Riot’s “Metal Health.” It was all downhill from there.

I’m sitting here, listening to Rainbow’s “Stone Cold” as I’m typing this. Goddamn you Red Pill, you ruined my fucking music. Yes, it’s sorta whiny. Yes, it’s sorta pedestalizing women. Oneitis is rampant in this song.

I can hear the dickhead’s on Twitter right now:

“LOOOOOOL!!!!! You fucken blue pill beta chump Ya lost ya framez pleighboi looser! Da joose iznt werth da sqeeuze dumass!!!! Pansy poosie!”

(Why is it you dumbasses don’t know how to spell “loser?” One “o” not two. If you are going to mock and ridicule me, that’s fine, but could you fucking learn how to spell? Is that asking for too much? Loser is you and looser is your ho of a girlfriend, get it straight.)

Where was I?

That’s right, the Red Pill ruined my Metal.

Wanna hear a great song? Try this one on for size. Oneitis? Check. Whiny? Yup. Bluepilled? All the way. Lovesick? God yes. Sappy? To the max. But god, it’s a good song. Good to get laid to.

I’m seeing a pattern here as I’m listening and writing. Both of these songs are sappy and melancholy to one degree or another. That’s it, I’m in a melancholy mood. And I’m okay with that. Yup, these two songs in particular are getting me right in “muh feelz.” Drinking probably isn’t helping either, but fuck it, why not.

Here’s another one for ya.

Are you digging it yet? No?

Okay. Let your ear canals feast on this one. Not really metal per-se. More like grunge if you want to split hairs. Come to think of it, I don’t know if this one is really “blue pilled” or not. Ah fuck it, it doesn’t matter.

While the Red Pill “ruined” my Metal, there is a silver lining to all of this:

You get over it.

You get over the fact that yes, most of the music you grew up and listened to, and you thought was phenomenal, is in fact, a lot of guys having oneitis over a woman. It’s a lot of guys pining over some woman that fucked them over in some way. Basically a lot of 80’s metal is country music with distortion and longer hair than their country counterparts.

But I’m getting distracted here and going off tangent.

Yes you realize that the Red Pill has ruined your music for you, for a little while at least, and then you get over it and get on with it. You are able to get back to enjoying the music, even if it’s a guy or a group of guys having oneitis over some chick they met. You get over the fact that the musician is putting his girl on a pedestal.

You get back to the fact that at least the musicians, for the most part, had some talent, and that the tunes were actually well done for their time. You get back to the good memories that you have from those songs. At least I do.

While Whitesnake’s “Is This Love?” is a sappy, blue-pilled, pedestalizing a woman, oneitis song, I can’t deny the fact that I had a lot of sex when I put that song on. I can’t deny that it has a great groove and a good bass line to it.

And when I’ve had my fill of 80’s hair metal with guys pining over some woman and putting her on a pedestal, there’s always my go-to palate cleanser:

Slayer.

That, and Pantera.

Or even late 80’s, early 90’s gangster rap like Ice-T, N.W.A., or Snoop Dogg.

That’ll remove any traces of blue-pill nonsense.

So yes, the Red Pill will “ruin” your Metal, at least for awhile, but then you’ll get over it and get back at it and enjoy the music for what it was meant to be:

Entertainment.

Sex.

Drugs.

And of course, Rock and Roll.

Turn your AC/DC up to 11. Pour out some booze for Ronnie James Dio and “Dimebag” Darrell, give the “twin horn salute,” and remember:

If it’s too loud, you’re too old.

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