I’m Not Butthurt, She’s Just A Cunt.

The man is clearly giving way too many fucks.

Sorry man, but you broke Rule #2: Don’t Be Unattractive.

The girl in this particular conversation seemed willing to meet, she just had shit come up and it was delaying her. Guy gets salty because she hasn’t showed up on his time schedule and then projects his saltiness on her. “I knew she was salty.” Nice “mind-reading” fantasy, my friend. But nah. That’s not it.

For a supposed “pickup artist,” he still has a ways to go.

Being butthurt because things don’t work out isn’t an attractive posture. Going and posting it on the internet for “likes” is a worse look in my opinion. Women will never get their comeuppance. The author of the tweets thinks the chick is going to be seething and hurt when in actuality, she’ll simply go out and meet another dude. The only one seething here is the author of the tweets. It’s not an attractive look. It’s unfortunate that there were so many “likes” on this particular thread of tweets. More dipshits being led astray. Oh well, what can you do?

Or maybe this is just a sign.”

There’s the kiss of death, the “be gone, loser.” The “oh well, your loss.” From my experience, that’s her saying, “NEXT.” I highly doubt she will be in contact again, but I don’t know her and I don’t know him or any of the context here, so anything is possible. But honestly, I highly doubt it.

I was being a dick by not giving a fuck.” Sorry dude, but no. You were giving way too many fucks. Why else did you write those tweets? Internet clout? “Putting these bitches in their place?” If you hadn’t really cared, you would have went home and went to bed, fuck the internet. Or you would have waited around and let her show up.

Guys, they always “out” themselves.

Looks like he wrote a book. “Crash & Burn: A Manifesto.” Yikes.

Does the title sound Attractive? Or Unattractive?

I’m not sure if I would be one to buy it. Based on this last series of tweets, I’m thinking I will have to pass. Seething anger, whether “real” or “imagined” is something. Perception is everything, my friend. If you can’t see your own delusion in front of you when you look into the mirror, I don’t have much to say other than “denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.”

What’s the lesson here? Why did I write this post?

Because there are only two “rules” in the world of women. Rule #1: Be Attractive. Rule #2: Don’t Be Unattractive. That’s it, and that’s that. They are simple rules, but they aren’t always easy. When your ego gets in the way, when you step on your own dick like the author of the tweets above, that’s a violation of Rule #2: Don’t Be Unattractive.

Give less fucks. The woman is running late? Shit happens. Let her show up, don’t be pissed about it. Water off of a duck’s back. I’ve had several meetups in the past where the woman was running late. I didn’t let it bother me. I had to be to work early in the morning too, but I also believe that I’ll get plenty of sleep when I’m dead, so I roll with it. She shows up. Of course her life is a chaotic mess. Of course she is running late. Of course there was traffic. Of course she couldn’t find a place to park. Of course, of course, of course. But…

She looked amazing. And she did it for me. That’s a big part of why she was running late. How do I know? Because she told me. And yes, she looked amazing. After a couple of apologies and a drink or two later, guess where we ended up? My house. Her house. Pick one. And I got to find out that either her panties matched her bra, or that she wasn’t wearing any panties. And that she had shaved… Everything.

Which way internet man?

Do you want to seethe and crow on the internet and be unattractive? Or do you want to get laid?

Would you rather miss out on an opportunity for sex because of a time delay? Or do you want to fuck?

What do you want?

Do you want to sleep? Better to not go out if you have a big day ahead of you as far as I’m concerned. Otherwise, you’ll get plenty of sleep when you’re dead.

Let this be a lesson for you, Gentle Reader. Be Attractive, Don’t Be Unattractive.

The End Of The Red Pill?

We’re having another round of elimination apparently.

I said it back in 2019, and it still stands today:

The underlying problem, the elephant in the room, remains.

It’s still someone else’s platform.

YouTube, Bitchute, Anchor, Patreon, Soundcloud, even my e-mail list, whatever. It’s still someone else’s platform. They all can pull the trigger for any reason at any time. Maybe it’s advertisers putting pressure, maybe it’s funding. Maybe it’s the guys running it got tired of doing it. It doesn’t matter.

This came from my post “In Perpetuity.”

The fun thing is, Chest came back with this:

And he’s not wrong. The Red Pill will always show up somewhere. Somebody will host it, copy it, reference it, whatever it takes. There’s always a “keeper of records” out there. There’s always a bibliographer, writing books about books. There’s always a librarian keeping track of who wrote what, when, and where. I believe we also call them historians.

The problem is, there are too many record keepers and not enough actual “doer’s.” It’s far too easy today to copy some links for posts, books, videos, and audios. It’s easy to keep a record of them. God knows I have done it in my time, too. But then that’s about as far as it goes. Guys hanging around in the “redpill scene” for years. And they haven’t learned a goddamn thing. But they can quote Rollo book, chapter, and verse. That’s great bud, how many women have you fucked lately? How many women have you approached and talked to lately?


That’s what I thought.

Dante, BullRush, and I were having an audio conference on Dante’s discord. We were talking, well Dante was specifically talking about “nuking” the server in its entirety. He’s got shit to do and I know I don’t want the reins. Sorry, not sorry if I’m “outing” you, Dante. Too many guys jerking off and not doing anything. I don’t know if or when he’ll “pull the plug” or not, but it’s definitely a possibility. How does it affect me personally? Not one iota. The server stays, the server goes, I don’t care. I got what I needed from the Red Pill many years ago. Now I hang around for the lulz and to shoot the shit with friends.

I suggested instead of nuking the whole server, why not just nuke the text channels? Too many “keeper of records” saving information that they will never use in the real world. But boy, they will copy and paste that shit into a notepad or some kind of Word document that they will file away “for future reading.” Same with YouTube videos. They’ll put them in the “Watch Later” category and that is where it will stay until they delete it one day, or it’ll disappear because the channel owner deleted it or made it private. How do I know? Because I have done it.

I can remember “back in the day.” Back in the day, there was no internet. There was no forums, no discord, no Twitter. No easy way to get information on seduction. There was definitely nothing on what we now call “the Red Pill.” And yet, I managed to get laid. Even if it was “right guy, right place, at the right time.” But it meant I had to clean myself up, get dressed, leave the house, go outside, and in my particular case, go to the bar. But it happened. And I didn’t have Mystery helping me out. I didn’t have the internet and YouTube. I wasn’t able to be a “keeper of records.”

But then the mid 90’s came along and I was able to find things in backs of magazines that then turned into catalogs sent to me by mail, which turned into targeted advertising that was also sent to me by mail. Cassette tapes, books, and eventually DVD’s started showing up for me. Of course I was paying for the majority of them, and most of them, just like today, sucked ass. I had become a consumer of seduction material. I had become a “keeper of records.” And that’s how I spent much of my 20’s into my early 30’s. Lots of material, little putting it to use. I could have been the proto “all of my experience is in the abstract guy.”

Which is what got me to thinking about what I’m writing right now.

Guys, are you going to be “keepers of records,” quoting Rich, Rollo, Rian, Roosh, Roissy, and whoever else comes along? Or are you actually going to do something with the information that you have so much easy access to? Which way, internet man?

If Dante takes my advice, the server will be losing most, if not almost all of its text channels. If you fuckers want to learn something, you’ll have to jump on and actually be a part of a verbal conversation. I’m sure some of you will record it “for future use,” which is where you will miss the point entirely, but maybe some of you will remember the “nuggets.” The bits and pieces that gives you that “Aha!” moment. Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you can’t remember that I said it. I don’t expect you to be able to quote me, that’s not why I’m here.

You guys want to go and be the “keeper of records?” That’s fine by me. You’ll also probably be the guy, sitting in his room, jerking off to Pornhub or whatever the next latest and greatest will be. Or you’ll be that guy, the one sitting on whatever replaces Facebook and Twitter, talking about how you’ve been in the “redpill scene” since the time of Rollo. How you were there when the Rational Male first came out. You’ll reminisce about the days of when Tate got crucified on the internet and about how F&F was a thing, those silly bastards. You’ll laugh about the guys who have sex dolls, while hoping that no one finds out that you too, have a sex doll. But goddammit, you got those links, those videos. You are keeping those records, man.

I’m going to leave you with this, which also happens to be one of mine:

If you guys out there, aren’t getting what you need from me, or my interpretation of the message, then somehow I have failed you. More importantly, YOU have failed you. I can’t sit here and spoon feed this stuff to you for the rest of your lives. At some point, you’re going to have to jump off into the deep end and swim. You’re going to have to join the club. You’re going to have to commit to it too. You will be initiated. Whether you want to be or not. Whether you are ready or not. Your own futures depend on it.

I Am The Shadow.

I love it.

I’ve come to really, truly, realize that this blog has not only been about me and my “Red Pill Journey,” which is what it started out to be, but it’s about me exploring and ultimately owning, my Shadow. Hell, it took me until very recently that that was what I was doing.

With posts like Villain, Hedonist, and Desire, how could I not really see it? I did, but maybe I didn’t. Maybe I’m just fucking with you at this moment. Maybe not. That’s for you to figure out.

The Shadow. A term that Carl Jung came up with back in the day if memory serves me correctly. My college professors would be shaking their heads in shame for the fact that I spent the money and now I’ll be damned if I can’t remember all the hoopla over Jung and the Shadow.

The Shadow, if I recall correctly, is that “part” of you that you find undesirable. It’s the “part” that you ignore or hold some sort of guilt and shame over. It’s the “part” that you don’t want to acknowledge. I get it. There’s a lot of things about me that when I was younger, I was told was undesirable about me. Let me give you a brief list of the things that I would consider my Shadow.

I’m self-centered.

I’m talkative and can be abrasive.

I put my needs before other people’s needs.

I can be insensitive.

I’m impatient.

I’m intolerant.

I’m one horny motherfucker.

I like sex.

I can be the laziest motherfucker you’ve ever met, and I’m okay with that.

I get off on other people’s suffering.

That’s good enough for now. That’s a good “starter list.”

These are all “traits” or behaviors that most of polite society would consider to be undesirable. I know I’ve met plenty of women that have frowned on some of these traits or characteristics.

Here’s a screenshot of one of the latest encounters I’ve had recently:

I mentioned on the most recent Let ‘Em Burn (at least at the time of this writing) that I met a woman and I stirred up her outrage and indignation with a comment: “I DNGAF about the children. Yours, or anyone else’s.” I smirked and she nearly shit. The fire in her eyes was incredible. What did she do? She kissed me. And then the next day she sent me that text that I screenshot for you.

When she and I met, she asked me the standard fare of questions, including, “What are you looking for?” To which I told her straight up, in plain english, “I’m a Lover. I’m not looking for buddies to hang out with. I’m not looking for friends. Sex has to be on the menu for me.”

Call this “Mode One.” Call it “taking out the mystery.” Call it what you will. I don’t care.

I embraced my Shadow after I got everything everyone told me was the “Keys to Success.” I had the house, the job, the wife, the college degree, the toys, the respect of my peers, the approval of my family, and enough money to live a comfortable lifestyle. I had it all.

And at the end I was so miserable that eating a shotgun shell was more appealing than living.

So I embraced my Shadow. I embraced all of those things that I was told that I shouldn’t embrace. I embraced my sexual desires. I embraced my enjoyment of booze. I embraced being loud, obnoxious, talkative. I embraced being heard as well as seen. I embraced being forward, blunt, and to the point. Why not? The alternative was suicide or an endless misery of existence. It definitely wasn’t living.

“M” in the first screenshot of this post mentioned that “some people do whatever they can to avoid exploring their shadow, while the rest lean into it.” (italics are mine)

I definitely lean into it, and why not? I already “did the time,” I might as well “commit the crime.”

Guys, it’s my life. And I’m closer to dying every minute of every day. To quote Aaron Clarey, “I have less time ahead of me than behind me.” So fuck it. I’m going to do me. There’s nothing to be afraid of. All of the nonsense is just that, it’s nonsense. It’s all in your head.

When you really “lean into” not giving a fuck, everything changes. Do I always “get the girl?” No. Perhaps I “came on too strong” for the woman in that earlier screenshot. Perhaps my straight-forward demeanor was too much for her. Maybe she had “buyer’s remorse.” Maybe it had nothing at all to do with me whatsoever. I don’t care. Ultimately it doesn’t matter. There’s always another woman.

So how do you “integrate your Shadow?” Your Shadow isn’t a separate thing. It’s you. Like I said in the first screenshot: “Spirit” and “Body” aren’t separate. They are One.”

Your Shadow isn’t this “thing” outside of you, it’s you. Sure, it’s the things that you either don’t like about yourself, or it’s the things that “society, culture, family, etc” has told you NOT to like about yourself, but it’s all you. So accept it and own it. Stop caring about it and just own it. Be the Villain. You’re going to be the Villain in somebody’s story, might as well be good with that.

You can go on ignoring those things that you don’t like about yourself, or those things that you’ve been told NOT to like about yourself. You can do that until you end up looking down the barrel of a shotgun, or you can accept those things and be okay with those things. You can own it. It’s what I did.

You know what?

My life got geometrically better when I just owned that stuff. So own yours. Own and “integrate” your Shadow. There’s worse scenarios for you if you don’t.