I keep getting asked to write this blog. I have resisted because I must sheepishly admit that I’ve done one or two ‘cease and desist’ breakups before.

As I am (or have on occasion, been) one of those pricks, I can give you the inside scoop.

But first, let’s be honest, if a guy ‘just stops calling you’ then things weren’t ‘going great’. They sucked, in some way or another, and your ability to recognise and be honest about that is really important. We should all remember that the world operates how it does regardless of how we like to imagine it does. Learn to spot the warning signs.

Disclaimer: Some of these scenarios might seem a bit autobiographical, but any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely incidental and possibly also accurate.

1. You’re a bit psychotic

Thankfully her back-handed grip will make her easy to disarm.

Do you emasculate him in public or scream a lot or throw things or make strange assumptions about how something he says means something else and get angry about that? Well, then you’re a psycho, that’s why he’s breaking up with you, and that’s why he isn’t talking to you about it.

Guys like to be in control, and although we rarely are, clever women at least let their men think that they are.

At very least we like things to be predictable. Unpredictable is the politically correct term for ‘Psycho’.

He’s scared that if he personally dumps you, you’re going to scream at him or cry in public or burn his clothes or do something horrible like hack into his email account and contact all of his female friends spreading spurious rumours about venereal disease and slightly less spurious rumours about premature ejaculation, you heinous bitch.

You’re a psycho. Chill out.

2. He’s a coward

A lion would never cheat on you...

If you’re certain you’re not a psycho, then he’s a pussy. He’s afraid of confrontation, of being told how pathetic he is, of knowing that it’s true. He’s run through hypothetical break-up situations in his head, and all of them seem to involve him feeling like a worthless twat – so he avoids that and just stops calling.

He may have cheated on you and doesn’t want to tell you, he may have just become bored, he may have some real problems – but for whatever reason, he lacks the cojones to call you.

3. …and he’s in love with you.

Maybe he went out one night with a bunch of single mates who were chasing skirt, and he hung back from the fray – because he has a girl. All the girls were fascinated by this guy who seemed so emotionally unavailable, so they started hitting on him.

This is a rare occasion in almost any man’s life, and he’s shocked to realise that he’s so nuts about you he’ll happily pass up random, emotionally meaningless (but otherwise pretty enticing) sex with an attractive stranger.

For many men, realising that we’re willingly being monogamous is bloody terrifying.

He can’t explain his real reasons: “I feel less masculine because I no longer want to bone every girl I see because I think I’m in love with you, and want to spend the rest of my life with you, therefore you’re dumped.”

He knows you’ll see straight through his bullshit if you speak face-to-face, so he just stops calling.

But a Tiger would...

4. He’s a man-whore

He’s found someone new – and calling you would amount to cheating on his new hussy. It would also lead to an awkward conversation where he’s either forced to lie a lot or admit that he’s an asshole, so he just doesn’t.

Perhaps you are his someone else. He may be dating multiple other women at the same time, or he’s gone back to his ex (because she suddenly wanted him back when he said he’s seeing someone new), or he he might have just forgotten about you among a horde of hussies.

5. It’s fizzling out

Were you passive and boring, or playing too hard to get? Did he call you and arrange things and invite you places and you agreed, turned up, and occasionally removed your clothes and let him have a go? That’s not enough. You should be proactive about seeing him and feeding him and removing his clothes.

He doesn’t want you to dump him officially, and he doesn’t want to have to do the same, so he makes the optimal choice of saying that things just ‘fizzled out’.

Which is actually quite strategic:

1. He stopped calling to test whether you were interested. That also had the effect of making you more interested. You call him, problem is solved, romance continues; or
2. It was fizzling out and he ducked the embarrassment of being dumped. There’s a chance that a few months down the track you might be able to rekindle things with a brief conversation in which you both accuse one another of not calling, and then get drunk and make oops sex

6. He really did lose his phone/have a car crash/get called away to fight with the Muhajideen

Sometimes men aren’t lying.

So…

You have fingers and presumably know his number. You could call him and say: “Hey stranger, what’s going on? I’m hungry for Thai and horny as hell, lets sort those things out in that order” You don’t have to be funny, but you must make him feel wanted, while you demonstrate that you’re not taking things too seriously, even if you are (he should never know that until it’s much too late).

You could also not call him, get dressed up nicely and go out on the town looking for another guy, rather than agonizing over some man that you thought was nice, but is actually a cowardly/man-whorish/forgetful prick. This strategy requires that you must delete his number and instruct your friends to flick you on the forehead every time you bring him up. You need to forget about him, and you will not do that by discussing him endlessly.

It is also important to note that as a rule, the less eager we are as men, the more keen women seem to be. Maybe not a rule, but a guide, but it works pretty well. Maybe he’s not not calling, but he’s playing hard to get?

Technorati Tags: advice, dating, dear sis, sex, women

There are a variety of factors that conspire to make us men feel inadequate about sex. Porn doesn’t help – it’s not only bad for our penis-envy, it’s also terrible training. But beyond that, there is also the problem of the female propensity to discuss sex.

Women seem to think that it is men that talk about sex a lot. It’s an utter fallacy.

We talk about who we’d like to have sex with, and how we might go about getting that sex, but when it comes to the post-coital debrief with mates, male sex conversations go like this:

“So how’d it go?”

“Yeah good”

“Did you root her?”

“Yep”

“Nice. Was it good?”

“Yep”

And that’s it. That’s pretty in-depth, even for best mates. A really persistent pervert might go as far as to ask about her pubic hair cultivation or ask if you got a ‘gummy’, but only a boaster would answer.

I have been blessed (or cursed) with an ability to become ‘one of the girls’ in many girly social settings, among sexed-up secretaries or gaggles of girls at university – and over the years have found myself privvy to some pretty incredible conversations.

Girls like their coffee like their men, and no-one ever orders a short white.

Girls (and gay men) discuss heterosexual sex in incredible depth.

I was at one girlfriend’s scheduled ‘girls dinner’ when they started discussing penis size, and I learned that girls don’t just rate dicks like we rate tits. Our system requires two adjectives, rating both size and firmness. That’s all. But girls will often get deodorant cans and bits of fruit to demonstrate penis shapes, skin consistency, rigidity and size.

One of them asked my girlfriend how big mine was, and much to my embarrassment, she got out a bread knife and showed them (which has since associated violent images with penetration). Thankfully they had only enquired about length and not girth…

They were so curious they demanded that I go into the bedroom, work up an erection and measure it against a steel ruler one of them had inexplicably produced from her handbag for the occasion. That is how curious they are.

Girls discuss pubic hair and circumcision or how veiny it is; a guy’s thrusting style, his body odor and semen taste; his proficiency at cunnilingus; what kinds of ‘digital stimulation’ (I hate the term ‘fingering’) he performed and how well it worked; they will talk about the positions they got into (including rather arousing re-enactments) – everything…. It’s incredible.

As a guy, if you shared that kind of depth of detail with another man, you might as well let him root her and find out for himself. Sharing that amount of gore just seems disrespectful to guys, but women love to share this kind of stuff.

That’s why it sucks to be terrible in bed. Not just because sex is awesome and it’s awesome to be awesome at it, but when you learn how candid women are, you’re saddled with the crippling fear that if you fail to impress her, she’s going to go and tell all her friends about it.

You’re trying to have sex with one woman to impress a whole gang of them.

Babu's knows that his lover enjoys having 'Chats with the girls over coffee'

It’s not as if she immediately bounds off to her mate’s place and says ‘My god he’s terrible‘ but these things just have a habit of making themselves known. And let’s not forget the fact that a story about good sex is mediocre at best, but a story about awful sex is bloody entertaining, it gets passed around, giggled about, questioned, and explored in detail.

What makes it worse is the fact that the friends often have subtle ways of letting you know. Sometimes they’re subtle, it might just be a knowing smile…

But sometimes: I was out with a girl and her friends and I saw a nude sculpture or something and made a joke about being under-endowed myself. Her friend rather unabashedly said: “That’s not what we hear” – (again, length not girth).

Great. That means she also told them that I seemed to be totally incapable of making her have an orgasm, that no matter what I did, she just wouldn’t – even if she had a go at it herself, the mere fact that I was in the room seemed to make her vagina reluctant to smoot. Great. My crippling sexual inability is now public knowledge.

That’s one thing in favour of having meaningless flings with total strangers, or girls who are awkward and have no friends. I think my particular skill relies on diminishing expectations so thoroughly after the first attempt that if they show up for an encore they must be interested and they’re bound to be impressed.

Post script: [I was reluctant to post this for fear that I was pigeon-holing women and making rude and inaccurate generalizations again... But on the weekend I made a comment that a girl I'm seeing had called me fat - to which one of her friends said: "I'm sure she wouldn't say that, what was the context?"

To which another of her friends cheekily (and loudly) replied: "Well she certainly wasn't talking about his dick" - SEE?]

Technorati Tags: dating, dear sis, sex

Sis,
Why do I continually have female friends, hot friends, funny and smart and successful friends complain to me that they can’t get a man?

Giraffes also like pies. High rise pies.

I’m a typical sex-starved male, and attractive women complaining about not getting sex is a bit like having a next-door neighbour who puts her tasty-smelling pies on the windowsill and then complains over the fence that no-one’s eating them; while I sit in my yard, starving to death, too polite to ask for a bite. I love pie.

But is it about the pies? All of these friends who’ve asked me this in the past few years say similar things: That they’re not picky, that they are actively looking for a man, and that they think there must be something wrong with them.

If you’re tempted to think ‘There’s something wrong with me’, you’re not going to be looking for different ways to do things, you’ll be looking for entirely different way to be. That is such a challenging idea to have in mind that some women end up repelling men rather than seducing them. You’ll seem unpredictable, unapproachable, shy, damaged.

Only abusers and losers seek out damaged women. If you want an impressive man, then be an impressive woman.

Get ready to bake some pies:

1. You are too picky

Looking for your imaginary Goldilocks man?

I was doing some informal coaching with a friend and she said ‘I’m not that picky’ and then rattled off a list of attributes that she expected from a mate:

She wanted a tall man, between 6’2” and 6’6”, who also:

• Is ambitious,
• has a good job,
• is good in bed,
• faithful,
• funny, and;
• ready to commit

If you look at that list, two things should stand out. One: every woman wants all of those things, and two: Many of them are mutually exclusive. Tall, funny men are crap in bed (I ought know). Men who are good in bed aren’t ambitious, because nothing snuffs out ambition like lots of sex, and you get good at sex by having lots of it, so not faithful or not single, and those single men who do get sex aren’t ready to commit.

Regardless, fewer than 4% of the population are above 6’2” – and many of those are ugly, lazy, bad in bed, philanderers, boring, gay or otherwise not looking for a woman. We worked out the maths, and she’d literally have to meet over ten thousand men before she even met one that fit her criteria.

And once she found that one guy, she’s got to compete with the rest of womankind – because she’d basically described a fantasy.

Now that we’re here, you probably think ‘Wow, she is picky’ – but she didn’t see herself that way and it’s likely that neither do you. Women who do see themselves as picky either have enough men after them to be picky with, or they’re content being single. If you’re single and don’t want to be, you’re too picky.

So…
Lower your standards. Blow-jobs for the homeless! Hah, just kidding. High standards are good, but interact with men as if they are more than just potential mates. You might find that a guy that is, a little bit shorter than your ideal is still worth your time, or a guy like me who’s terrible in bed but has a nice shirt.

Maybe that guy will connect with you in a special way, and make you feel so good that you don’t mind going without high-heels or orgasms. Or, you could just be friends with him. Remember: Ugly men often have hot friends! (But lazy men rarely have ambitious friends)

2. You do too little

Grab their attention and take it with you

Aussie and British women on average are terrible at flirting. Americans are great. Flirting is not about hiding from men, giggling a bit when they talk, then telling your friend to tell his friend that you’re keen. Flirting involves lots of obvious eye-fucking, engaging with them, starting conversations, dropping in some obvious sexual innuendos – daring him to hit on you. Don’t be subtle, he just won’t get it. Display some confidence! If you don’t have it, pretend you do.

Some women don’t even go to places where men might be found – like a fisherman in a bathtub wondering why he’s not catching anything.

So…
If you want equal work for equal pay, if you’re demanding all these positively progressive ideas like the right to vote and set fire to undergarments, then how about some tit for tat?

Go to a house party. Approach a man. Make him a drink. Hit on him. Maybe you will be rejected, learn how to regain your composure. We’ve been doing it for years! See the brighter, lighter side of it, and move on. If it is about what you’re doing rather than who you are, then the more rejection the better, really.

And when you perfect the art of maintaining your own ego, and no longer want or need a man, a good man will find you. It’s a catch 22 really, but remember, good men aren’t hard to find, but a hard man is good to find. (Apologies to Mae West)

3. You do too much

Rabbit stew anyone?

Some girls actively go hunting for a husband. They have a nagging voice in their head (that sounds a lot like their mother) saying things about clocks ticking drying eggs. They scare off men, who are usually just looking for something that meets their immediate needs. If I want a taxi and you offer to sell me a car, I’d run away too!

These women carry around tonnes of emotional baggage.

Each man they meet must prove himself worthy by carrying that heavy load on his own shoulders. He must undo the work of other men – which is an unfair request that becomes an insurmountable task – for nice men.

Daddy or ex-boyfriend issues are a predator’s wet dream. All he needs to do is pretend that he’s willing to invest some serious time into the relationship, pretend that he’s going to carry all your crap for you, give you some attention, then he’ll shag you and scram – leaving behind another load of emotional waste.

For ordinary men, it’s impossible to deal with. I’ve been held accountable for other men’s actions, and it stinks. It feels like walking into a courtroom and getting given a life sentence because the last person in there was a mass-murderer who got let off with a warning.

If you’re climbing a mountain, bring a Sherpa. But if you’re going hunting, bring a stick. I cannot come up with a metaphor for what a stick is – you do it. And tie it in with the car metaphor from earlier. Good reader.

So…
Treat each situation as unique. Remember that each man is not your dad, nor your ex. If all men are assholes then you’re an idiot for not realizing sooner and becoming a lesbian. Maybe some men are nice, maybe you’ve been choosing them poorly.

Look for a tasty man that is friendly, funny, and patient for sex (that last step will weed out the predators). Whack him with your stick. Then, behave as if the whole interaction; from meeting to talking to flirting to kissing to sexing to co-habitation to kids; is a continual, enjoyable test. Like a lease – with a residual price of one wedding ring.

Demand that he prove himself worthy of each new level. We all have approval seeking patterns, you should exploit his, set hoops for him – ones that he’ll enjoy jumping through.

Watch a guy play a computer game, you’ll see that it’s not that fun, it’s actually the challenge that causes us to embark on an endless quest to slay the evil robot king. Be the evil robot king/car with a stick.

4. You think yourself out of it

This is a very common one. I notice myself doing it too – I meet someone and fall in love with them, put them on a pedestal, worship them, and then suddenly think: What on earth do they see in me? You’re a fisherman who keeps throwing perfectly edible fish back into the sea ‘Well if that fish was so easy to catch, it mustn’t be a very clever fish’

And this one is too nude...

Perhaps it’s a fear of being too invested in one person that causes a self-protection mechanism to pop up and start looking for flaws; maybe it’s a feeling that I’m such a damaged unit that I shouldn’t allow other people near me; maybe it’s a feeling that I want to be free to be with whoever I want; maybe it’s a feeling that underneath it all, I’m actually a selfish, deranged individual, and if anyone gets close to me they’ll soon work that out and reject me. I don’t know what it is, but it’s a bloody nightmare.

So…
I dunno what to do about this one. If I did, I wouldn’t do it. Maybe I could think that people make their own decisions and if I want to be with someone then it’s their responsibility and their choice, that it could be awesome fun, and that having a shot at it is probably better than continually emigrating.

Else…

If you’re sure you’re not too picky; and you know that you neither do too much, nor too little; and if you’re certain you’re not thinking yourself out of it, then…

You’re defunct. There is something wrong with you, you’re unloveable and doomed for a future full of flavoured teas and too many cats. You may be delightful, friendly and very kind, but you’re just preordained to be one of those lonely people. Some people are that way. Some people just never find love. Drive yourself to the scrap-heap and wait for your next life.

Technorati Tags: advice, dating, dear sis, sex

Dear Harry,
If a girl has bought a new pair of pants that she is really excited about, but you think they don’t look as great as she does, do you tell her that?”

- Sensitive

Well Sensitive, you pose an interesting question: Should I lie to a girl that has asked for my opinon? No. Do I? Occasionally – when I’m being cowardly.

There was this psychotherapist dude called Frank Farrelly who invented a thing he called Provocative Therapy. It’s bloody genius. It uses brutal honesty, humor and positive intent to empower people, give them perspective, and allow them to change.

The idea that you’re protecting someone’s feelings by lying to them is bogus. Be honest. You lie to make your own life easier. If someone close to you asks you questions and expects lies as answers, then they are all stuffed in the head and it’s your job to break that pattern. It’s not doing them any good.

From serious schizophrenics to boring old eating disorders and dull depressed people, the story is the same: They’ve been consistently lied to by the very people who should’ve been giving it to them straight. You can’t expect teachers and neighbours to say “Well, you’re acting like a complete nutter today” because it’s not their bloody job. It’s yours – if you love someone, honour them with your honesty. Even if that means telling them they’re crazy, fat or stupid.

The main difference between being an asshole and being a provocative coach is intent. If you’ve got a clear and positive outcome for someone, a well-formed idea of how to get there, and a loving and humorous demeanour, you can say almost anything you want. If you don’t, you’re just being a knob that insults people.

Think of the paranoid schizophrenic fresh out of the nut-bin who has a persisting ‘delusion’ that everyone is muttering about him behind his back. He’s probably not deluded at all – they most likely are. The obsessive compulsive that cleans his hands repeatedly probably has a more accurate perception of how dirty the world is than you do – you disgusting, germ-covered disease factory!

The girl who isn’t eating because she thinks she looks horrible is right – she looks hideous and gaunt. The problem is that when she was a chubber, her mum and friends and boyfriend all told her she looked fantastic and slim, but a glance in the mirror and a comparison to Posh told her she was in fact a chubber. She immediately has two choices: Distrust everything her loved ones tell her and/or develop the belief that she sees herself differently to how other people do, which is known as body dismorphic disorder.

Hurrah, from being a chubby innocent little girl, your kindness has just given her a randomly named psychological condition (dismorphia or depression or anxiety or some other pile of invented garbage) for which she’ll probably be prescribed medication. Yay, drugs!

Aren’t you so caring and kind…

What about mocking her desire to look like a fucking scarecrow? Why not swear a bit and play her own insecurity back to her, in a funny and playful way, so she can develop a bit of perspective and see how ridiculous it is, in this day and age, for a woman to rest her entire self-worth upon her ability to look like a slapper? Perhaps you should challenge her to assert herself, to display those other values she has that are valued by you and society at large, like her intelligence, social skills, sense of humour and ability to cook me some pie…

If she develops the ability to respond assertively, the fact that she noms down the odd cupcake too many might not matter all that much. And if it does – at least she’ll realise  that if she’s unhealthy, a multitude of well-meaning lies won’t stop her getting early-onset diabetes and losing a leg. Amputation has always been a reliable way of dropping weight, hasn’t it?

It's never too late for honest feedback

You’ve got to be doing it for the right reason. You can’t be angry or annoyed, be funny and do it with a positive intent for them. If you mean to demean, you’re the asshole. If they don’t find it funny, then let them simmer, but leave them in a powerful state – don’t just hit and run. That doesn’t mean you’ve got to take responsibility for making sure they ‘get it’ – many times they don’t (or think they don’t) and often they’ll get angry at you and stay that way for a while. Let them – if you’re really doing it for their own good, then your own pathetic desire to be loved and understood and admired shouldn’t really matter now, should it (Harry)?

So Sensitive: If a girl asks me how I think she looks in pants, I’ll give it to her straight (unless I am being cowardly and selfish – which is most of the time, because I’m gutless and self-centred). Give her options to be however she wants, but always be honest and well-meaning with feedback – after all, that’s why she’s asking for it (and if she wasn’t, then she’s learned a valuable lesson: Ask someone else next time).

If you’d like to learn more about Provocative or NLP, perhaps you should come to a course run by Sue Knight hosted on my family property in Australia this coming November: http://www.sueknight.co.uk/Programmes/oz/sueintro.htm

See other resources:

http://www.associationforprovocativetherapy.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Farrelly

BVEUKQNWNHAX

Technorati Tags: dating, honesty, NLP, persuasion, provocative therapy, sex, women

Through the pulsing haze of smoke, a stunning Thai girl was dancing seductively and whipping her hair at me.

“She’s gotta be a hooker” I told my mate Hale.

“Nah, she just thinks you’re hot.” he retorted.

“I know how hot I am mate, and I’ve never been that hot, particularly not in the eyes of someone like her”

Hale’s been one of my best mates since school days. He’s fully Australian to Vietnamese and Korean parents, so he looks Asian and sounds Aussie. He’d moved to Vietnam and found himself a gorgeous Vietnamese girlfriend, and he was certain that the best way for me to get over a certain Aussie girl was to find myself a nice Asian one. I wasn’t too averse to the idea, because some Thai girls are bloody gorgeous, and funny, but the idea of paying for one can go to buggery (Buggery is not a real place).

Sure enough, after some prolonged eye-contact and a little bit of a dance, the sexy Thai girl said “I think you think don’t pay me” – which I relayed to Hale. Hale seemed to think that meant she didn’t want my money, I was fairly sure it meant she did want money, but was uncertain whether I was going to give it.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with prostitution, it’s just not for me because it removes the most important element of coupling: The chase, the uncertainty, the conquest. For me the physical act is hardly enjoyable without that wonderful knowledge that this gorgeous girl has chosen me – and that is valuable for exactly the same reason that the sex trade is huge business: Because women are crazy and unpredictable.

My explanation for the lunacy of womankind is as follows: Girls always go for the wrong guy, so if you’re the right guy you’ve gotta pretend that you’re wrong to get her. The right guy sees his girl and the rest of the world goes out of focus, the music starts, and he gets all doe-eyed. He showers her with attention, compliments and completely forsakes all other women, hell, a really enamoured right guy doesn’t even look at other girls. But despite the bullshit that stupid rom-coms try to feed us, the reality is quite ugly. Girls hate nice guys.

It is the age of the alpha

Girls go for guys that don’t need them – because girls go for alpha males. Alpha males enjoy the attention of many women (that’s what makes them an alpha), and can’t afford to invest themselves with just one. For that reason, he values them all that little bit less – he’s less attentive, less complimentary, and generally less attainable. When girls say they love confidence, that’s what they’re really talking about.

And it drives us nuts. It’s bloody nightmarish and annoying even if you can gain that toehold on supremacy and ascend to become the alpha. That alone is hard, you’ve got to be permanently on your game, responsive, perceptive, funny, loud and confident – but once you’re there, and you have the choice and you can get the girl, you’re still bound by the same ridiculous rules that got you there.

If you start showing her too much attention, you immediately relinquish your position of power and tumble back down into the bickering and snarling ranks of the betas, to be stuck there until you change social group because your descent is always more memorable than the climb: “What did she do to him? He’s an empty husk of the man he used to be.”

But the legitimately nice guys that girls always whinge about not existing are out there, frustrated and invisible. They are the shoulders you girls cry on when another asshole alpha brushes you aside for one of the other girls in his bevvy. Through that act he reinforces his value as an alpha – and that smashes your heart to pieces, because his betrayal only served to make you want him more.

At that stage, quite often the girl will turn to her beta best friend and give him a go. After all, she needs a confidence booster – and he’s always reliable when it comes to telling her she looks great, and he always calls when he’s meant to, and maybe that’ll be fun for a change. At this point, sometimes, there comes love – real love, if there’s time.

But it’d better be quick, because the asshole that just dumped her learns of this relationship and suddenly fears losing one of his harem and lowering his value, he quickly starts charming her again, sending her messages filled with flattering platitudes. Shocked by his sudden change of behaviour she thinks “He never did this before, he must’ve changed” and goes back to him. Then follows a horrible, ego destroying hell-ride which he, she and the beta finish only to find that they’ve lost all their friends and they not only hate themselves, but also each other.

Boys have grown up through school with the girls their age all dating older guys, losing their virginity and then blubbing endlessly about how all men are assholes – and then we see it: It’s not a coincidence that the nice guys are all single, girls don’t just coincidentally happen to find themselves dating prick after prick, they look for them.

It’s why ‘The Game’ is such huge business, the pick up artists, the social seduction gurus, the dodgy NLP dating guides, they all make a fortune teaching these pseudo-alpha skills to beta males. The trick is to learn how to behave like an alpha to get the girl, and then be happy becoming a beta when you get her. The problem is that the regression isn’t nearly as fun as the ascension, and turning back isn’t always desirable.

Plus there is the fear that after a long emotional history of being rejected, the trained up beta won’t be able to avoid the sneaking suspicion that there must be something wrong with her, that old Oscar Wilde feeling of “I would not belong to a club that want me as a member”

There is a third choice. Nerdy, pudgy, old and socially inept men from all over the world come to Bangkok to experience the only exception to the mind boggling absurdity that is the female brain. Here, those thoughtful, kind, considerate pathetic betas can find a gorgeous, funny, young Thai girl – and no matter how nice he is to her, she still likes him. Even if he buys her a nice piece of jewelery, takes her for a romantic meal and lines her pockets with cash, she’ll still love him. Finally, he can treat a girl the way he wants to, and she’ll appreciate it.

Sure, it does seem a bit weird to me that they take their hooker our to dinner, where they hold hands and gaze longingly into one another’s eyes, but on another level I totally get it, and it’s all your fault, women. Be less crazy.

Reduce craziness by half.

Sure, there are exceptions. There always are, two of my closest friends are a remarkable exception – but they aren’t nearly as enjoyable to write about. The fact of the matter is that guys as quick at it as me are biologically capable of creating babies at a rate of one every few minutes. Even at full speed, girls can only manage one every 9 months and then she’s shackled to a fleshy, defenseless screaming little predator magnet. She still needs to be provided for and protected.

That’s why women frequently get knocked up by alphas, but marry the betas – because they get alpha genes in a stable beta household, I am the progeny of exactly such a union. That’s why alphas often die lonely and sad, and betas grow old, happy and fulfilled, wittingly or unwittingly raising someone else’s children.

Guys are biologically hard-wired to search for a new mate after they ejaculate (guys, you know what I’m talking about, you will all at one time or another have experienced that surprising and uncomfortable ‘Get me out of here’ feeling when you’re meant to be reveling in post-coital snuggles). No, girls, it doesn’t happen all the time, but when it does happen it’s a pretty horrible feeling. We don’t mind pretending to be assholes, but when it’s written into our genes we feel irksome.

Women are programmed to discard ineffective inseminators monthly (hence the PMS crankyness) and to change out effective inseminators every 7 years – presumably because at that stage the semen-spawn is relatively capable of surviving and contributing and doesn’t need daddy anymore.

Yet we invented religion (ugh, don’t get me started on that horrible cancer of humanity) and religion invented marriage, and now for social acceptability we’re all expected to contradict our evolutionary urges and couple for life or suffer eternal burnties and pointy poking and embarrassing perpetual pant-forgetting dreams and all manner of other horribility in hell.

So what can be done? Nothing, really. The women reading this disagree with almost every word of it, asserting that this is only young women, a certain kind of woman, or an inaccurate stereotype. They could accept it as slightly overstated, but reasonably accurate, and through that they might observe or alter these unconscious processes for a better future. The alphas reading this are bored and thinking: ‘Yeah, so what?’ The betas are amused and possibly inspired – but probably won’t do anything about it.

The worst class of guy is the one who thinks he’s an alpha but he’s really not. I met one just the other night, and it frustrated me muchly. He’s stuck in a cave-man mentality that you have to fight for your position in an aggressive and open way. For that annoying class of person I do have some actionable advice: Don’t compete.

When you’re standing in a group with an alpha running the conversation, don’t try to hijack the discussion, don’t try to isolate a girl in your own private little moment, and definitely don’t do obviously demeaning things like close ranks around him in an attempt to cut him out. All of those things are transparent demonstrations of your own lack of worth, and any girl you do single out will reluctantly sit listening to your boring tripe only until she has a socially acceptable ‘out’ – which is usually some secret girl-language sign for ‘Let’s go to the toilet and talk about how boring this guy is’

If you want to build your value in the group, join in on whatever line of conversation is running, and say something interesting about it. If the topic is beyond your areas of knowledge, steer it to familiar turf, or ask insightful questions about it. People who ask questions invariably appear more intelligent than people that try to sound intelligent.

Set someone else up for jokes, and dunk other people’s lay-ups. Be receptive to the vibe of the group, and keep it on high-energy topics. That way you both look funny, cooperative, perceptive and smart, but more importantly, you look confident. Truly confident guys aren’t threatened by other confident guys, they’re inspired by them. This all creates the powerful impression that you’re more interested in having a fun conversation than you are about chasing a girl. Bam! You’re now an alpha.

But, if you’re really desperately unhappy with who you are as a person, and you suffer from various negative self-perception delusions, you probably lack the requisite determination to make that metamorphosis. Just go to Thailand.

Some random guy from guide2nightlife.com - probably the kind of guy I'm talking about (Is the one on the left a lady boy?)

In Thailand, Western girls are ignored like men are in the West. It’s a shocking and rather amusing transition. The other night I was out with a group of legitimately gorgeous American and Canadian girls, each more stunning than the last. When they go out back home, they get to jump the queue and walk into clubs for free, and once inside they have drinks bought for them and they’re showered with compliments.

In Thailand, they’ve got to compete with the local Thai girls, who are treating the western men to all the attention they can handle. Bangkok is a fantastic confidence boost for a guy, particularly if you’re not morally opposed to paying for companionship. For these poor betas, the Western girls suddenly appear less attractive, because for the first time we see them for all their crazy self-defeating habits, bizarre expectations and over-inflated egos.

When the Western hotties go to clubs they’re forced to stand in line, and pay for their entry themselves. Then the must suffer the indignity of buying their own drinks and dancing with one another in a group, which strongly reminds them of how their gyrating gaggle always used to get mobbed by men, and how it isn’t now. The men are all off dancing with nice Thai girls, who compliment them and giggle with them and flirt with them openly. Some girls are just looking for a wealthy Western boyfriend, some looking for a more formal cash for time arrangement.

The hot Western girls hate it, and we love that. It’s about time they learned what it’s like for us blokes. Because even if you’re a reasonably attractive, funny, intelligent guy with a good job, a fast car and an extremely auspicious star-sign, you still rarely ever have girls hit on you in the west. Here, they’ve got to. Here, even the Western girls are forced to walk right up to you and try it on.

So reward them for their audacity, they deserve it. You remember how terrifying that is!

Check out Kaila’s blog (she’s the hot Canadian): http://www.blondetraveler.com/blog/311-white-diamonds-in-the-rough.html

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