Bad Boy game

Bad boy game boils down to 6 simple things
#1 High levels of confidence. Turning yourself into a bad boy will create that confidence. In a rock solid manner and not the fake it till you make it bullshit.
#2 Masculine confidence is a proxy for a man’s ability to commit violence on her behalf and quickly passes through a woman’s initial filtering process. Tingles mother fucker
#3 Not giving a fuck about rejection and therefore make more approaches often with girls of much higher SMP value then himself
#4 Not giving a fuck allows you to Demonstrate Higher Value which is a proxy for masculine leadership
#5 every facet comes down to the same basic thing; masculine power on display.
#6 there are more ways to play bad boy game then most men would believe.

Now to flesh that out…..
The simplest definition of bad boy is a man who lives on his own terms and goes against social norms. Now this could be an outlaw biker covered in tats with jail time, some broke ass dude playing lead guitar in a metal band, a man focused on turning pro in MMA or an ivy league MBA who gives up the corporate world to spend the rest of his life rock climbing in the South West.

I will focus on what activates a woman’s initial attraction triggers and not on relationship game. Some of our brothers in arms prefer long term relationships, but this does not negate the need to trip her initial attraction triggers. Women filter out men in both a passive and active manner. Initial attraction triggers gets you pass her passive filtration system and there is very little variance in this initial phase as the 80% of women want 20% of the men meme points out. Their active filtration system varies wildly but she is now filtering for a narrow set of criteria that fits her “unique” idea of masculine perfection.

A bad boy isn’t necessarily a convict, but he plays on that feminine desire for a man who will do X+. Some chicks are into criminals because they hope they will commit evil on her behalf. And by that I mean keep her and her offspring safe and acquire additional resources when times are extra tough. For most of history life has been brutal, dangerous and short on food. If dude A will do X to feed himself, his bitch and his brats and dude B will do X+, dude B might very well be the better bet. Criminality is demonstrating the willingness to do X+. It is unrealistic for us to expect girls initial filtering system to keep pace with the rapid changes in society but it is also unrealistic to say all girls want a criminal. I also think it would be unwise for women to shit can that initial filtration requirements because while we are all pretty much shitting in tall cotton right now, no man knows what tomorrow will bring. The true criminal life is a grind on chicks and while criminality produces the tingles it also sends a lot of girls running.

Why bad boy game works

Naturals, dudes with fame, money, good looks etc get rejected all the time and often. The bad boy advantage is not giving a fuck. Mostly. They are concerned about their standing in certain circles but not with the general public. This “don’t give a fuck” attitude is developed by trying and failing and trying again time after time and by pursing his interests vs what folks say he should. Each aspect feeds on and strengthens the other to the point they become inseparable, creating a certain level of mental toughness that naturally carries over to the SMP. Because he doesn’t give a fuck, he makes more approaches, in more socially risky areas and with girls who out rank him in SMP value. Chicks bang the dudes who ask; Men bang the chicks who say yes. Bad boys ask a lot of chicks, which leads to success with women which leads to per-selection kicking in. Which leads to more success.

How this “don’t give a fuck” attitude plays out will be different from man to man and from sub culture to sub culture. This display can be a biker with tatts, wearing a cut and sneer or by a man in a tailored suit with a faint air of disdain. Chicks don’t do subtle and the initial advantage for passing her filtration system goes to the more outward displays of masculinity but the suit wearing city slick has the advantages in longer seductions, broader based appeal and longer term relationship.

Now girls love bad boys, this is as true as true gets, but not all girls are going to get damp in the pants over the same kind of bad boy. One chick might love the ghetto thug look with dreads and tatts, another the long hair sickly looking dude ripping up the guitar in a heavy metal band and another might love the extreme sports enthusiast. Rejection isn’t about you, it’s about her and her view of the world and how you fit into her small little universe. Brothers, there are bad boy game options to run and you can find one that matches your natural talent and disposition. All you really need to be is energetic and motivated.

Bad boys get laid because their persona screams power and dominance which are proxies for the ability to commit violence on her behalf. Violence is also the willingness to face physical injury, overcome dangerous men and dangerous situations. You cannot separate this risk and violence as its pairs up to make a net positive in your SMP value. People loathe a man who hurts kids or is a bully because the victims aren’t dangerous to him. People love champion fighters because the men they beat are dangerous. Violence coupled with courage, physical and mental toughness is the basic essences of masculinity. Betas were less beta 60 years ago because odds are good he grew up scrapping with other boys. Something he out grew as he matured, but yet part of his adult personality. Once you’ve been punched in the face a few times you no longer fear it and typically his beta job was inherently more dangerous and more physically demanding than work men do today. That’s confidence women pick up on and confidence is a proxy for being comfortable with violence and risk. Each girl is going to have her own version of what displays this masculinity; her own set of proxies and there are many versions of power. An outlaw biker displays power at the individual level. A wealthy man displays power but his kind of power is a proxy for his ability to get other men to do violence on his behalf. Money is a more subtle display and therefore has problems passing through a woman’s initial passive filtration system. Because women now have their own economic means, they now have the ability to hire out violent men themselves. In the now, readily available credit makes it easier to fake proxy displays centered on wealth which also might make girls more skeptical/ filter out these proxies harder. Then again maybe not because women don’t seem to understand the differences between wealth and debt… For these reasons I believe it takes a larger amount of cash to pull off these proxy signals then in the past. This isn’t a conscious decision for women but something women understand at an instinctual level. Lust and reproduction are instinctual. Success in the SMP/MMP is based on your ability to activate these instinctual triggers (tingles). Most men are pussies therefore the ability to commit violence is easier to achieve then times past. It doesn’t take a large skill set or an insanely high comfort level with violence to stand out from the crowd when most men have not been in a fist fight since the 2nd grade, has a safe and comfortable, indoor 9-5 job and main hobby is video games and watching TV.
You can win a goodly number of brawls by being somewhat stronger, more coordinated and in better condition than the other guy which explains why athletics is a proxy for violence. And athletics gives you the best chance to transform from bitch to Bull. 2 years of serious MMA training and a few fights in the ring will do the trick, but I bet the same could be said of picking up damn near any extreme sport.

Bad boys get laid because they live the “fuck what women want” mindset and chicks eat that shit up. The “fuck what women want” mindset is the core of Demonstrate Higher Value. The overwhelming majority of chicks want a dominate man and this attitude express his dominance. You are above her, your concerns are a higher priority than hers, signaling leadership and social dominance; the man with the plan, who pass her shit tests (which are proxies for keeping her in her place and that makes her feel secure and protected)

Most bad boys give off a confidant persona and girls read this as the ability to commit violence on her behalf. This evolutionary drive for confident men is a drive for a man who will protect her and her offspring from other men and acquire resources for them no matter the risk to himself. This can be hard for men to understand as most men do not want to be protected or provided for but makes sense when you think about it from an evolutionary perspective. Until recently, everyday life was dangerous and violent. Even 60 years ago almost all jobs were risky; all men stood a decent chance of getting punched in the face over violating social norms and economic ruin was around the corner for most families. Life was a struggle even for what passed as middle class.

Damn, that’s a lot of words to basically say those six things but I reckon it’s pretty well covered.

 

 

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Hell Hounds

I reference to my life a lot without a cast of character in my life. I need to fix that
Girl is a Presa Canario. She came to me after the cops shot her twice when they were raiding her 1st owner’s crack house. It sucks she got shot, it has most assuredly effected her health negatively, but I have shot a fair number of dogs myself so I know the why of it. I am close friends with the lady who runs the local Great Dane rescue, and somehow Girl came into her hands after animal control picked her up. My friend though Girl was the perfect dog for me. Very thoughtful gift and Girl has been a joy and a blessing. To the outside world Girl is 105 pounds of pure fucking hate, within the family she’s pretty much a lazy ass sweetheart of a dog. There isn’t much she’ll take form strangers but gets bullied by the other dogs in the family. It cracks me up to look over and see her giving me the sad face because one of the other dogs took her bone or her spot on the bed or some such. She’ll defend what’s hers when she wants, but it doesn’t happen often. Every few months she comes back to the door covered in blood and gore. She is a killer and eats what she kills. Mostly gophers but she pulled down a fawn before. Still she has a sketchy background and I am careful about introducing her to strangers. She loves my nieces though, and does well on the leash. My Majordomo is 74 and still likes to go for walks. Girl dotes on MD and no one fucks with her when Girl’s with her. The girls say Girl is the lady dog version of me. Not sure what to think about that one but Girl is much like Girl#1 in that our time together is always easy and peaceful

Boy I know more about Boy than any other dog. My little brother picked him up from his local Pit Bull rescue. Boy was rescued from a fighting kennel. We don’t know if he was a ring dog or a bait dog, but either way he is chewed the fuck up, had a fucked up beginning in life and hates Black folks. We reckon his 1st owner was Black. He isn’t fond of kids so I keep him in his kennel when kids are over. I picked up Boy after my brother died and his kids turned demonic toward the dog. Without him around, Boy started getting more aggressive, especially toward my nieces, thought the girls had it coming. I send boy to my daughter’s house when my nieces come to visit. I use to have a small problem with coyotes and stray dogs. Boy fixed that, though my guess is he did it with a lot of back up from Girl. He tried to go after Girl when I 1st brought him home. Steel toe boots to his ribs fixed that problem. Girl would have killed him with a smile on her doggie face. Boy’s favorite game is “who’s the bitch now”. He shit tests more than any woman. I shut them down hard and fast which turns him into a perfect angel for 30 days or there abouts. I cannot see boy without thinking about my little brother and how much he loved the dog. Boy likes to steal people food, which always gives him the shits. He is found of climbing into my lap when I am sitting in my favorite chair. His other big thing is playing chaperone. He is affection/ attention starved so whenever me and one of the girls gets to hugging and a kissing, he does his best to interfere. His night time mission is to figure out a way to sleep between me and my beloveds. Sometimes he wins, sometimes the girls win. I win either way. It’s funny as hell and a big family joke. Boy is just plain fun. He still thinks he’s the big dog of the house no matter how many times he gets put in his place. He is always alert and always ready to tear up strangers. My daughter takes him when her Husband is out of town. Boy is my everyday living link to my beloved little brother.
Odin is a black Great Dane. He is 220 pounds of alpha. When the other dogs get to yapping, one bark from Odin shuts them up. Across the whole damn neighborhood. He likes his peace and quiet. The other dogs don’t play around Odin when he is sleeping. I live in the semi hood/ rural hood with a lot of Pit Bulls running around. They all back down from Odin. Damn near everyone in the neighborhood is scared shitless of him. His default setting is menacing. He only gets more intimidating from there. He is the most muscled up dog I have ever seen and insanely strong. It’s like he’s running steroids around the clock. I got him from the same lady who gave me Girl. Odin’s big sin? Biting a man. Damn near took the dudes hand off. I’ve seen the pictures and the police report. The family who owned Odin before me claims the dog was defending their kid from an out of control neighbor. One of those he said she said deals which saved Odin’s life, but meant the original family had to get rid of him. Occasionally I send photo of him to his original family. They are happy he came to me. I know they wanted to take him with them when they PCS’ed but thankfully they didn’t ask. I take Odin with me when I mess around with other rescue Danes. It’s good for the other dog’s disposition. Like women, most dogs’ issues come from not understanding where they fit in the world. When Odin is around the dogs know where they stand. And it isn’t in the #1 slot. Not long ago I was interacting with this mastiff with fear aggression issues. Odin was standing on a deck, looking down at me and the other dog. When the other dog lunged for me, Odin charged off the deck and knocked the other dog down with a shoulder butt. Knocked the 150 pound dog off its feet and into the air. From that point forward the mastiff started mellowing out. Now that massive belongs to my father and they are constant companions. Funny enough, no one likes my old man or that dog so they are a matched pair. Odin is the dog I take out into the world with me. He is everything a man could want in a dog and then some. He is extremely well behaved. I always attach a leash to him, but I rarely need it. Odin is my traveling dog and I took him with me when I took Red Man and Little Beauty fishing. I can send him and Red Man anywhere and he won’t leave Red Man’s side. Or any kids side. He is utterly devoted to the family and takes his role as alpha dog serious. Odin is my pride
A side note on dogs. Read the books How to be your puppy’s best friend and how to be your dog’s best friend by the Monks of New Skete. Best books on game ever written. Dogs, kids, women…. Same same when you get down to it.
Thor is another black Great Dane. He’s about 140 pounds or so and a giant goof ball of an animal; always happy, always wanting to play, always on the quest for affection, attention and fun. He is happiness in motion when he runs. It’s a joy to watch him enjoy the world. Odin is my pride, Thor is my joy. He is another rescue Dane; his 1st family turned him in for aggression issues. Which is normally bullshit. Folks don’t want to own up to not wanting such a big dog and turn them in for “aggression issues” all the time. Any rate, just thinking of Thor puts a smile on my face. He is also extremely smart. You can watch the wheels turn in his eyes before he is off stirring up shit with one of the other dogs. He is also the fastest and most agile dog I’ve owned. When he brawls with the other dogs, he runs away, loops around and bites them on the ass and runs away before they can turn around and get a hold of him. I trust Thor not to eat the kids next door, but otherwise he’s an unruly son of a bitch. Completely good natured about it but the boy is not well behaved at all. I rarely correct him though. I’d hate to see some of his joy fade and the rest of the world can enjoy him with us or fuck off.
Fact is, I trust all these dogs to be dogs. I never worry about the security of my person, property or loved ones with the Hell Hounds around but that doesn’t mean they are ready for life beyond Camp Ton. Also I renamed all these dogs when they came to me. New life, new start, new name.
Well that’s the cast of K9 characters in my life. A friend use to joke that my place was a home for the unwanted, wayward and broken. It’s not really a joke. Thor is the only one of us not one of those things.
This is a big chunk of my family and my life. When I get home, one of the girls lets the dogs out the door and I am over ran by 400+ pounds of happy doggies. Always makes me smile. My favorite photo of us is me in my chair, my dogs and girls at my feet. All properly collared and leashed of course.
I talk about the same things a lot; work, training, chasing ass, motorcycles and dogs but that’s because these are the things of my life. I a simple Southern country boy, the big city and fancy shit isn’t for me. . I cannot imagine a life without dogs being worth much just like I cannot imagine a life without fishing and motorcycles being worth a damn. It’s not that I don’t know any better; it’s that I know there isn’t anything better

Status Update

Well I’m back in the A-stan, at my least favorite place in this shit hole. Actually Afghanistan is lovely, sometimes in a very stark and stern fashion but it is beautiful here. What makes this place a shit hole is the people. But that is true of all third world nations. I’ve been here for a week or so. In that time I have settled into my room, adjusted to the time zone change, adjusted to the new food, been out on two missions and been in the gym three times.

The 1st mission we had 4 RPG’s launched at our lead vehicle. Three missed. #4 was defeated by the armor. No injuries, but the truck needs work

2nd mission our lead vehicle was hit by an IED and disabled. The armor worked, the crew was safe and able to return fire. Tip o the hat to the math nerds who make this shit possible. The hajjis didn’t much like the returned fire bit and hauled ass. See, like the Stark’s say, winter is coming and the winter here is harsh. Probably the worst winter weather I have seen outside of cold weather training. This means, haijji wants to get his licks in before he stops for his winter break. Soon the passes will be snowed in and they won’t be able to get fighters or supplies in.

One of the guys on my crew is way into bodybuilding and he looks the part. All muscled up. The 1st day in the gym he egged on a mini bench-press contest between the two of us. He was trying to show off for a couple of the Army girls, one of whom is very pretty. The girls all told him things like he was going to win, that he was so much stronger than me etc etc. Funny as hell. Like I say, girls know nothing about reality and I crushed him by 70 pounds. In part because I am stronger than him, in part because this is my game and I know most men cannot make a 70 pound jump. I only do close grip bench when I am training without my bench-press shirt, so really it was a much larger margin of victory. The girls were astonished, the men in the gym were laughing at the girls. See men know these things without thinking about them. The guys on my crew had heard the rumors, know they know it to be true.

The second trip to the gym and the semi bodybuilder dude wants to train what I train that day. Cool. I did power cleans to push press. Basically I take the bar from the floor to my chest in one move, and then over-head press the weight with a little help from my legs. The fun part is letting the weight drop from arms length in the air. He gassed out at 205; I hit 315 and called it a day…. It’s near my max. One of the girls complained to him about the noise I was making. He relayed the message. My response was who gives a fuck loud enough for her to hear. She left in a huff. Today she was laughing at my jokes. There’s more than one Red Pill lesson in that

My daughter never buried the hatchet. She has been by my house everyday to help tend to the Hell Hounds and help my buddy pick up my horse. Lest she is doing her duty

Girl #1 and Girl#2 are fighting. This is what hens do when the cock isn’t around to keep them in line. I said something about blistering their ass’s with my belt when I go home in December. Folks laughed before they figured out I wasn’t joking.

How to deal with criminal behavior……. ie urban diversity

I’m not a fan of diversity. Or vibrant youths. Or aspiring rape stars or whatever the hell we are supposed to call them these days. Mostly its all trouble and the resources invested has not been worth the return. Any rate, I ran full into some vibrant, urban youths a few days back. I haven’t said much because I wanted to make sure the anger had passed and I could relay the story correctly. Here it goes

On our way back from breakfast at Duncan Donuts to her hospital, when, from our right, a white sedan crossed the yellow line into our lane. I swerve, and look over to see whats up. What’s up is a car load of black dudes laughing their ass off. 4 young adults; 2 kids who cannot be older then 9. They get back in their lane and I bleed off some speed, down shifting to keep the rpms high, looking for a good escape route. They start screaming stuff about crackers and what not and pull into my lane again, pantomiming running us over with their car. I bleed off more speed, downshifting again, no longer looking for an escape route. I am telling G1 to get off the bike and lie behind it when I stop. I’m not doing much more then walking speed at this point. They do it again, I grab the brake with my right hand, mash down on the rear brake with my right foot, violently stopping the bike. While they are getting out of their car, I am yelling at my girl to get off the bike. She complies, I drop the bike and pull my gun

This is when shit gets intense. I am yelling at  Girl#1 (G1) to lay down behind the bike, yelling at the urban diversity to shut the fuck up, get the fuck out of here etc or I’ll kill them. G1, she is yelling at me about Lord only knows what, the vibrants are yelling at me, all kinds of shit and about me pointing a gun at them when they have kids in the car…..racial slurs are flying. Inwardly I am calm. Dead calm. I am taking in intell, processing data, managing my actions and words to keep them in check. What G1 and the urban diversity see is a muscular man, dressed in leathers, nearing a killing rage, ready to go off at any provocation. Any sign of weakness on my part and they will move forward and I will kill them. 20 bullets, 6 of them, three per target with two left over. I don’t miss at this range. Ever. Even without that little read dot from my CrimsonTrace on that fuckers forehead. The closets one is within two steps of me. One step forward and he dies. If he puts his hands in his pocket or reaches behind his back, he dies. He is as close to death as he will likely ever get without dying, but seems completely unaware. They are yelling what ever they are yelling. I am telling them things like shut the fuck up and the kids die 1st. The full size XDM in my hands has put them in check put they are not disengaging. Why aren’t they? To dumb to realize how near death they are? To use to fucking with pussy ass White people who never fight back? High? High on all the bullshit victim mentality they feed themselves? Who fucking cares.

This goes on for however long it goes on. Traffic is piling up. Folks coming from the opposite direction are slowing down their cars to look at whats going on ( dumb asses). Folks are dialing 911. Some firemen in a ladder truck see the whole thing go down and called 911 when the urban diversity made their second move. Apparently cops hang out at hospitals, and this has been an on going issues. Vibrant youths trying to scare motorcyclists of the paler skin variety that is. Three cops worked it out to arrive at more or less the same. Smart move on their part. I did not hear their cars pull up. Not relevant really, but I wonder why they didn’t use their sirens

The cops have their guns on me. Not an issue. I am the guy with a gun and the biggest threat to their safety. They order me to drop the gun. I tell them I will not comply until they get at least one gun trained on the fuckers threatening my life. Took them a few moments to figure out what the hell I was saying, why I was saying it, and complying with my request. One cop moves up and to my right. I say thanks, drop my gun on my bike and put my hands behind my head. one cop moves up, cuffs my hands behind my back and helps me walk backwards. I tell him I have a knife in my front left pants pocket and a set of brass knuckles in the right side pocket of my cut.

More cops show up. I start talking to a sergeant.The ranking officer on the scene. Well he starts asking me questions. I ask for a minute, to let the adrenaline subside. We chit chat about the NFL, my bike and my tatts for a few minutes. I tell him I am good, but would like the cuffs off me because of massive amounts of shoulder pain. He moves me behind a cop car, takes off the cuffs and I give him my story, answer his questions.  He hangs out with me, makes some comments about what I did, random stuff while we wait for a detective. He tells me my story more or less matches what the fireman and G1 said. And he tells me this sort of thing has been a minor problem this summer. Locally and nationally. I go through the whole thing with the detective again. The firemen bring me and G1 some juice boxes. This drags on for ever, but is probably way less then an hour.

To my surprise I get my gun, knife and brass knuckles back. Huge surprise. I was due to leave the country soon after this. I ask the sergeant about that, and he shrugs. I get the file number from him, and permission to pick up my bike. This is when he asks me about my concealed carry permit. Which I have on me, but I was doing open carry when this went down. I was a little surprised the cops didn’t hall off the vibrants until after CPS showed up and took over the kids. Not really an issue, just struck me as odd. The cops, they were laughing and joking with me inside 20 mins of showing up. They told me the other guys said I tried to run them off the road, started it by screaming “nigger” at them while I flashed my gun. Huge lie on both parts but shows a complete lack of understanding about motorcycles.  I carry my gun on my right hip, I cannot reach my right hip with my left hand, and on a bike, you need your right hand like you need your right foot in a car. So if I had my gun out in my right hand, there is no way I could have been riding along side them waving my gun. One told a Black cop they were just messing, and I over reacted. Thank God for stupid enemies.

So far, its to soon to say what, if any, the fall out will be. My lawyer laid out the worst case and best case, and told me the best case is WAY more likely. I’m at ease on that end. I cannot express how surprised I was with getting my gun back and how at ease and comfortable the cops were around me. Real buddy buddy like after 20 mins or so. Which I am glad for, don’t get me wrong.

Girl 1 is a different story. She has heard the stories from eye witness, seen me compete and what not but is still off her center after seeing me. I doubt its a deal breaker, but I can tell she is struggling with with the duality of me being the world”s happiest hillbilly and what she saw that morning.

 

Such is life, but I am alive to ride, fuck, and fight another day.