“Lowered Expectations”

He’s Not Wrong

It’s funny to me, I was thinking about what Rian Stone tweeted just a few days ago. I had just finished seeing one woman and was getting home, when another woman texted me. My hands have been full lately. I’m definitely enjoying my moments with these women for as long as they last, which could be another 5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 weeks, 5 months, or 5 years. I don’t think or plan ahead that far, I just live as much as possible in the moment.

Men who fuck the least have the highest standards.” – Rian Stone

And that seems to be the case. None of the women that I have met recently, or in the recent past, or in the distant past for that matter, would qualify as “high value, high quality women.” Not a single one. Not my ex-wife, not my ex-girlfriend of 4 years, not the girl that I had sex with for the first time, not Kitten, not Teriyaki. None of them.

Why is that? Is it because I “can’t do better?” Is it because I “go for low hanging fruit?” Is it because I’m not “a real man?”

No.

It’s because they are all just women. Their shit stinks just like mine does. Just like yours does. They have their foibles and faults just like you do. They have their doubts, their fears, and their insecurities, just like you do. Nobody is perfect, not even you.

The more I see and hear guys talk about their standards, and how high they are, the more I realize and say to myself, “Oh. He doesn’t fuck.” The more reasons, standards, and qualifications you have, the less your dick is getting sucked and getting wet. And why would I want to listen to you? All you are going to do is to teach me how NOT to get laid. I can’t learn anything of value from you, you are just wasting my time.

As of me writing this, I went to a concert with my Bosnian girl and her friends. She bought my ticket, invited me out, and we danced on the grass, under the stars with some truly amazing music setting the mood. She introduced me to her circle of friends. One of the guys offered me beer and a truly magnificent cigar. We talked about music and the band. He told me of his concern for his ailing 85 year old father. I can relate. While my father isn’t 85 and ailing, he’s no spring chicken either. I know I have less time with him than I would like.

You know what we didn’t talk about?

We didn’t talk about lifting weights. We didn’t talk about what makes “a real man.” We didn’t talk about the vaccine. We didn’t talk about politics or religion, or “saving the west.” We didn’t talk about being “alpha males and being the prize.” We didn’t talk about “thots” and OnlyFans.

We watched our women dance with each other and we watched them laugh and sing. We watched the band play, and if you turned your head and looked away, or if you closed your eyes, the lead singer became Freddie Mercury. That’s how much he sounded like him.

We smoked our cigars and drank our beer and we enjoyed the music while dancing with our women. That’s what we did. We lived in and enjoyed the moment.

As a side note: A dancing, laughing woman is a horny woman.

But keep your “standards” fellas. Clearly a dancing, laughing, horny woman is way beneath you.

Keep holding out. Keep bearing the torch. Keep knighting for the west. Keep sending all of those women to me.

Today is going to be a busy day. I’ve got a show to do, a house to clean, alcohol to buy, and later in the evening I’m having a teacher that also happens to be a belly dancer come over. She’s put together a custom costume that she’s dying to show me and I want to see it. I want her to dance for me. I want to dance with her. I want to see those curves revealed. Clearly she’s not a “high value” woman. Clearly. She’s just the person who is molding your children’s minds while they are in school and you are putting your nose to the grindstone and when you’re done “hustling” for the day and getting on Twitter to talk about your standards, she’s belly dancing and drinking with me, and telling me what she taught your children today.

But keep your “standards” fellas. Somebody has got to do it, might as well be you.

In all sincerity though, thank you “high standard” guys. While you moan about lockdowns, masks, the vax, degeneracy, and the lack of morals and standards in women, I’ve been having a stellar summer. So thanks!

“Rules” and EFA

Rian Stone put out a video recently, and in my own opinion, it is possibly his best one to date. He has really grown as a video creator/editor and the message that he’s relaying to the watcher is very succinct, point blank, and it’s also something that is very important and is almost never talked about.

Early Frame Announcement or EFA is something that was brought up in the book, Practical Female Psychology. I have a copy of this book as I’m sure that Rian does too. I highly, highly recommend getting a copy of this book if you haven’t and read it. As far as I know, the author’s are the first one’s to bring up EFA. Hell, they may have coined the term for all I know.

I’m not going to go into EFA because Rian talks about it better than I could and it’s discussed thoroughly in Practical Female Psychology. I am however, going to tie something into it.

Let’s talk about “Rules…”

Now rules may or may not be a part of EFA. I’m not saying they are and I’m not saying they aren’t. I think that “rules” are at least a part or a manifestation of EFA, but I’m not here to split hairs and get bogged down in details and get into arguments. I’m here to show you what I have observed and how I deal with it. That’s it. So if you want to argue points with me about what EFA is or isn’t, know right now, I’m going to ignore you because I don’t care.

So what are “Rules?” Rules are those things that she says will or will not happen if and/or when you meet. Rules work in her favor because she is the one who created them. Here’s a couple of examples:

Me: “What are you looking for?”

Her: “Friendship first, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Also her: “I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Also her: “I don’t share.”

You get the idea I hope.

I’m not including the “list,” which is the whole thing that most guys get all hung up on. You know:

At least 6 feet tall, 6 pack abs, 6 figure income, 6 inches in the pants, at least 6 months out of a relationship, and I believe 600 hundred horsepower under the hood.

Honestly, you can ignore her list. I do. She needed to put something in her profile to fill up the characters and so that’s what she put in order to finish her profile. Pay it no mind. If you do and you realize that you don’t meet most or all of the “list,” all you are doing is weeding yourself out for her and making her job and her life easier. Why do that? Why give her the reason not to fuck you? Let her figure that out for herself.

But back to “Rules…”

In my experience, “Rules” aren’t necessarily what she puts in a profile, although she can, but it’s usually what she says to you, either via written form like text, or she says it verbally over the phone or in person. This is where I think “Rules” fall under EFA. She’s telling you who she is and how things are going to go if you go along with her. She’s setting the frame and she’s setting it early. Like Rian said in his video, “Just believe her.” If she says, “friendship first,” just believe her. If she says, “I don’t kiss on a first date,” just believe her.

And then act accordingly.

Here’s my experience with dealing with women who have “Rules…”

If she gives you one rule, she’s going to give you two rules.

If she gives you two rules, she’s going to give you a thousand rules.

And if you go along with it in hopes of getting what you want (most likely that coveted, “golden pussy”) you are implicitly agreeing to not only her first and second rule, but to all of her rules.

Welcome to being in her frame.

What do you get when you get a woman with “Rules?” More rules. That’s it. Ask me how I know.

I have only one “Rule” when it comes to women and dating:

There are no rules.

I wrote about the “bitter, angry Jew” awhile back. She is a fantastic example of what I’m talking about here. She had rules. Lots of rules. Rules, regulations, and restrictions. Everything had to be a certain way, everything had to happen at a certain time and temperature (I’m not exaggerating about the temp thing, that was a real thing for her) and basically the fucking stars had to align in order for anything to happen between us. Long story short, she was open to the idea of meeting and fucking, but there were “rules.” Guess who didn’t meet up with her and get laid?

A lot of guys in the ‘Sphere, when they encounter a woman with “Rules” will fall back on something Rollo wrote:

“She will break rules for Alpha’s and make rules for Beta’s.” Or something like that. And then they will get all stuck in their heads about does she consider them an alpha or a beta and the whole “I won’t do (insert whatever here) with you.”

Guys, I don’t care if she considers me an alpha or a beta. I don’t care if she will make or break rules for me. You shouldn’t either as far as I’m concerned. All I care about is that there are no rules.

If I want to kiss her on the first date, I’m going to do that. It’s a great way for me to gauge her actual interest in me. It let’s me know if she’s a good kisser or not. It let’s me know how sensual she is. It shows me how uptight or not she is. It shows me if she has “genuine desire” or not. So that first kiss is kind of a big deal to me. Sometimes I get that kiss on the first time meeting her, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I’m not feeling it at the moment and so I let it pass. There will be another time in the near future where it will get there.

But if she tells me, “I don’t kiss on the first date,” I can promise you and her that there won’t be a second date. That’s even if we made it as far as the first date. If she tells me that she doesn’t kiss on the first date before we have even met, we won’t be meeting, it’s that simple.

Same goes with the whole, “friendship first” rule. She brings that up, it’s a rule. And where’s there’s one rule, there’s a thousand rules.

Baby, I’m not here to be your friend, I’m here to be your lover. You want a friend, get a dog.

So learn to recognize when she’s giving you “rules.” And what happens when she gives you one rule? She’ll give you a thousand rules. And if you go along with the first rule in hopes of getting whatever it is that you want from her, you are implicitly agreeing to all of her rules. Welcome to being in her frame.

The Flesh

I’m sitting here and as of this writing, it’s currently 3am in the morning. I’m exhausted in many ways and at the same time, I’m wired and wide awake. It’s been a minute since I’ve felt this way.

I saw a woman the other night and we enjoyed each other’s company and I specifically enjoyed her flesh, and that’s what prompted me to write what I’m going to write about today.

How did we as Men go from enjoying the company of women, enjoying them as people, and enjoying their flesh, to perceiving them as “the enemy?” How did we come to talk about them, not as individuals with personalities and skin that you could touch, taste, and feel, to seeing them as something abstract, something theoretical?

I don’t understand this “space” online anymore. “The Manosphere.” At one time we were “swapping notes” about improving our sex lives, learning how to date and have sex with women, and even finding ways to get a girlfriend or wife if that was what you desired. Now it’s “whamen bad,” “semen retention,” “saving the West,” and all sorts of nonsense that is totally irrelevant to most Men’s lives. I know it’s totally irrelevant to mine.

Guys have gone from practical, pragmatic solutions, to platitudes and naval gazing. It’s “chick crack woo-woo,” only it’s for guys. All I can do is shake my head and wonder what happened and where we took a wrong turn. Or at least where most of the guys online took a wrong turn. All I can figure is that most of them don’t actually want to get laid. The flesh is a beautiful and terrifying thing. There’s nothing like it in the world as far as sensation goes. There’s nothing like touching and caressing a woman’s cheek and jaw. There’s nothing like sliding your hand up and down her arm, there’s nothing like licking the sweat off of her breasts and stomach and tasting the salt, and of course, there’s nothing like that sensation when you first penetrate her.

It’s terrifying too, because when you are dealing with the flesh you are “vulnerable.” All the macho, “alpha male” bullshit is going to go right out the window. If it doesn’t, you’ll be too much in your own head to be able to enjoy her and enjoy yourself in the moment. You’ll be too worried about things that don’t matter and you might even blow yourself out of the water when “victory” was literally spread-eagle in front of you.

All I can figure with all of the platitudes, nonsense, and general bullshit that is irrelevant that is going on is that if you are one of the guys who are doing it, you must be terrified. Terrified of women. Terrified of the flesh. You would rather talk about green lines, leaning in, black coffee, cold showers, semen retention, saving the west, 9’s and 10’s, ad nauseum, than actually going out, meeting women, and getting to sex.

Know that from here on out, I’m just going to shake my head, laugh at you, even pity you to a certain degree, and consider that you have no idea what you are talking about, and that you’re probably a virgin to boot. Petty I know, but I’m done fucking around with the nonsense. I’m just going to see whatever it is that you’re saying as a way of saying, “I’m telling you I don’t fuck without telling you I don’t fuck, Rob.”

It’s a shame that you cannot or will not enjoy the flesh. It’s literally how you, me, and everyone else on this planet got here. It’s literally why we are here.

It’s what gets me up in the morning, gets me to go to work, and it’s what puts me to sleep at night. What’s the point in doing anything at all if there isn’t women around to fuck? Why work? Why “stack cash?” Why go to the gym? Why do anything at all? I’ve talked about this before, back in 2019 no less, so I’m not going to go on and beat a dead horse here.

Guys, life is short. And there’s nothing better than an orgasm. Everything else is LARPing. Keep that in mind.