This is the last new post you’ll see here at thequestfor50.wordpress.com…
Please update your bookmarks, RSS feeds, blogrolls, readers, etc. to our new location:
See you there.
This is the last new post you’ll see here at thequestfor50.wordpress.com…
Please update your bookmarks, RSS feeds, blogrolls, readers, etc. to our new location:
See you there.
Much of the value of learning Game is gaining greater social awareness. When your eyes are opened to certain truths– that all interactions are value transactions, that our relative status is embedded into every conversation, that every woman’s subconscious is constantly analyzing relative value, status, and social position– you learn to operate from a place of greater influence. The fact that you can see human society for its most honest, bare elements affords you more power than those who float by on the surface level.
A huge part of your arsenal is being mindful of the way women assess men based on association, also known as “social proof.” This term is often used interchangeably with “preselection,” but they are actually two different concepts. I would define preselection as a subcategory of social proof.
Social proof encompasses all added or subtracted value a person can derive from their social status. This includes wealth, influence, and affiliations with other people (friends, connections, romantic interests, etc.). Preselection would be the very latter part of that definition; it is the type of social proof wherein a lot of girls want to hop on your bone.
Preselection is the most potent form of social proof.
On the flip side, you also have to watch out for negative social proof. This can be anything that lowers your value, embarrassing you and making you seem less cool. Once you start paying attention and understanding social interactions, you’ll realize intuitively what raises and lowers value. Recently I was able to use my ability to “see the Matrix” to avoid a sticky situation while out on a Thursday night:
After getting the weirdest handjob of my life from The Imp a couple weeks ago, I figured I might as well seal the deal and add one more notch to my collection, since I had already gotten 90% of the way there.
So on this fateful night, we make plans to grab drinks in Hollywood when I get off work. Unsurprisingly, I end up stuck at work until around 9:30 even though I had planned to meet up with The Imp at 8. After a quick stop at Chick-Fil-A, I’m fueled up and ready to hit the bar.
I get inside and The Imp is nowhere to be found. I make eye contact with a cute, curvy little blond girl sitting at the end of the bar, and she stands up to make room for me to order, smiling. Her name is… Baby Cologne.
The reason I call her this is because she has a really high-pitched voice (sounding like a baby), plus she literally wears Johnson’s Baby Cologne, which I didn’t even know existed before. She plays up the baby thing to “influence men” (her own words), but she also can shake her ass like a dirty ho*.
*Just how I like it.
So I start talking to Baby Cologne, and she likes me right away. I don’t immediately realize it, but I might be the best-looking guy in the bar, in the sense that everyone else is a shady-looking biker or dirty gang member.
This doesn’t really sink in, and I proceed with my standard game: Teasing her, giving her obvious bullshit answers (“What do you do?” “I’m a bean farmer.”), acting aloof. The problem is, I already had social value. All I needed to do was seem “cool” and skip further along to the rapport-building stage of seduction.
It’s funny how obvious women’s brain processes are once you learn to look at them clearly. I could see her mind going a hundred miles an hour trying to decide if I was a high-value guy or not. She finally blurts out, “I don’t know whether I like your personality or not.”
Some people might take offense to this or call it a shit test. I just think it is the most honest thing she could have possibly said– she literally stated her mind. I don’t let it bother me, but I start getting more real, and bringing the conversation down to Earth.
Here’s Where It Gets Tricky
After talking to Baby Cologne and her group for about 20 minutes, The Imp texts me and tells me to come meet her at the bar next door. I figure I might as well still close that deal, so I get Baby Cologne’s number and say goodnight. She seems pretty into me, and I even tease her about leaning toward never calling her again, but taking the number just in case.
I leave to find The Imp, and as I’m walking down the street, she texts me and says now she’s in the bar I just left.
I text her back and tell her to come outside and meet me. She says no.
I spend a solid minute deliberating, wondering if I should just go home. But I ultimately decide to go in and try to follow through on the “sure thing” I came there for.
As soon as I get inside, I realize what a colossal mistake that was.
The Imp is worse than ever, an ugly little monster drunk and high off her ass, screaming incoherent things at people and repulsing everyone. I walk up to her to say hi and she gives me a half-hearted hug, before turning around and ignoring me. I stand there for a minute looking like a chump. Really? This girl is gonna disrespect me?
I see Baby Cologne and her friends two feet away, staring at me. At this point I know I need to do some damage control. The Imp is not a reasonable prospect anymore; might as well pick up the pieces with Baby Cologne. This is where social awareness really becomes useful.
I reposition myself with Baby Cologne’s group. They immediately shit-test me because of my decreased social value (through associating with The Imp).
“So… that’s the date you were meeting here?”
You’re allowed to explain yourself if you can do it convincingly.
“It wasn’t a date… I met her once last week at a concert and she invited me out to drink tonight.”
“I know, she’s fucking crazy. I think she’s high on like six different things right now. She’s annoying as fuck, too.”
They laugh. I’m back in the fold.
If I had stayed by The Imp’s side and continued my social association with her, you can bet Baby Cologne would have blocked my number the first time I ever called or texted.
After jumping back to the right ship, I hung out with Baby Cologne’s group of four attractive girls for another hour, even dancing with them when the music got going.
At the end of the night, I said bye to Baby Cologne again. Then after Baby Cologne and one friend went to their car, one of her remaining friends came up to me and talked about how we were neighbors, and she “wanted to see me again…” She probably phrased it in an even more sexual way than I’m even describing. I gave her my number and she called me immediately so I’d have hers. She’s not as hot as Baby Cologne, though, so I’m not messing with her until the main event plays out.
It’s been about two weeks now, and Baby Cologne and I have talked on the phone once, and texted about hanging out a few times that haven’t panned out. She is a bit flakey, but as of tonight we made plans to hang out Friday. We’ll see if it comes to pass.
Check back on Monday for my weekly recap post and find out…
I hope you’re paying attention, guys. Because starting next week, THIS BLOG WILL BE GONE.
Yes, you read that right.
thequestfor50.wordpress.com will be no more.
“Where am I going?” you might ask.
Well, dear reader, I’m migrating to a place far away, with a warm climate and all the svelte, feminine women you could desire.
A little place called…
Please mark your bookmarks, Google Readers and other feeds accordingly!
America has a dysfunctional relationship with death. Our average lifespan today is longer than it’s ever been, but we obsess over health more than ever before. When people’s relatives or close friends are diagnosed with a disease, they act like their life is ruined or cursed in some way. They post on Facebook looking for sympathy, and tell everyone about the tragedy their life has become. Our culture reinforces this with our Relays for Life, our candlelight vigils, our pink ribbons at football games. God forbid you become one of the “unlucky” ones actually dealing firsthand with these (extremely prevalent and common) diseases. What did you ever do to deserve that?
This reaction is so strong because we have such a powerful denial of death today. A staggering percentage of our population lives their lives as if they will live forever. The idea of death is so foreign a concept to them that it truly is a blow to their ego and the comfort of their psyche whenever they are confronted with the reality of death.
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t wish cancer, or heart disease, or aneurisms upon anybody. All of these things suck. But compared to the realities of death faced by every previous generation, we have become a bunch of spoiled brats where mortality is concerned.
Why has it come to this point?
There are a few factors, really. We have the luxury of ignoring death today because so many advancements have been made to combat infant death rates, childhood diseases, and many of the natural threats that humans once faced. However, we are now so completely coddled that the idea of any threat to our health is seen as inherently “unfair.”
But beyond that, the deeper culprit is capitalism.
Corporations drive the media message with their advertising dollars. That’s why today we still fear cancer like a lurking serial killer creeping up behind us in an alley, even though a third of Americans will get cancer. Shouldn’t it just seem like a normal way to die at this point? Not if Big Pharma wants to keep getting billions poured into research, development, and new drugs.
So we continue to deify “survivors” as if they came back from ‘Nam, seeing them on talk shows and commercials, or giving speeches at colleges. If they can survive death, maybe I can too! It’s just another form of soap opera, but one that fans the flames of people’s fear of death. Death is the big bad boogeyman, and anyone who doesn’t “seek treatment” (expensive procedures, surgeries, and drugs offered by the Medical/Pharmaceutical industry) is a social pariah. Shame on you!
It is truly amazing how our society has been steered toward our current paradoxical way of living: Ignore death even while it’s all around you (so you can keep having fun! and spending like a good consumer), and then become frantic and despondent when a common fatal disease comes calling for you or someone you know.
My own mother was diagnosed with breast cancer last month. She told me her diagnosis was early-stage and not life threatening, so I didn’t get too worried. It has a high survival rate, and is a very common disease. Of course I was concerned and wanted her to get healthy, but the fact that I wasn’t crying or calling her every 20 minutes made the family feel like I “didn’t care.” Apparently there is a quota for the amount of sympathy you are supposed to offer in these situations. After all, she had cancer– that’s really bad!
I did discover that telling other people my mom had breast cancer got me a lot of sympathy. “Oh God, cancer… really…” People really felt for me. I guess part of it is a social thing; people don’t want to seem unsympathetic. The funny thing is, I only started to worry at the times when other people were treating the situation like it was really dire.
My mother is 60 years old. Isn’t that the age where health starts becoming an issue for everybody? As in, literally every human being on the planet? It’s like people expect to just wake up dead one morning. “She died of being perfectly healthy!”
I didn’t panic when I learned about my mom’s condition. I know declining health and eventual death is a part of life (the fact that this distinguishes me is the problem). I want her to be as happy and as comfortable as possible, for as long as possible, but I don’t need to add extra dramatic emotion on top of it, to “prove” how much I love her, or convince others of how tough my life is.
If I found out she had terminal cancer and six weeks to live, I would be heartbroken and fly home to spend that time with her. I know when the day comes that she finally dies, I will feel a huge sense of loss. What I hope I won’t do is act like something has been stolen from me or that some profound injustice has been done to me because my mother died of (something).
We shouldn’t spend our days obsessed with death; that can be a crippling burden. If you fear too much, you will never take any risks.
What you should do– especially as a man– is make friends with death. As early and as often as possible.
Accepting your own mortality and letting go of the ego-driven attachment to your own “precious” life truly sets you free. The stakes are not as high as you think. It’s just your one little fucking life. So make the most of it. It could end tomorrow, or today. Don’t live by anyone else’s rules, because they’re almost always playing a different game.
When you let yourself take risks– comforted by the fleeting nature of life– you will be living from a place of honesty.
And honesty is the fire from which true power is born.
So here is what’s been going on with me lately:
This past week is really a microcosm of my whole year. Busy with work, not a lot of extra energy to go out and meet new girls, relying on a few go-to girls that I have locked up. In a way, maybe I’m over-relying on these girls instead of forcing myself to find new ones. It’s really a question of what I’m getting out of it. At this point, I’m starting to realize that I’m bored with the repetition, and not even enjoying my time with these girls very much.
I think it’s time to put them aside and go on the hunt for new prospects. But for now, I am still getting my needs met.
On Friday night I saw Cookie for the first time in about two months. We hadn’t hung out since I ditched her for Jewdar back around Labor Day, and then flew out of the state. Jewdar and I still text once in a while, but she is always either traveling or “busy.” Waste of time, but I still throw in a text here or there just in case, since she’s pretty hot.
I picked things back up where they had been with Cookie. I even bought her dinner since I had treated her badly the last time we were going to hang out (she turned down work to drive me to the airport, and then I flaked on her). We had a good time, and then went back to her place. It was pretty much the same as it always was.
The good thing about Cookie is that she understands we’re not going to be in a relationship. She enjoys hanging out with me, shakes her head at my behavior, but ultimately is cool with the situation. I enjoy seeing her once in a while, but I would enjoy it more if she was younger and didn’t have the worst breast implants I’ve ever encountered. She has a great body, and they are really unnecessary. Plus they are lumpy, asymmetrical, and feel kind of hard when you squeeze them. But I digress…
Cookie always gives me shit about not staying over at her place after we bang. This past Friday, I was lying in her bed after, exhausted, looking up at the ceiling, when she said, “So how long do you feel like you have to lay there before you leave?” Such snark.
“Who says I’m leaving?”
“Are you staying?”
“Yeah, I think I might.”
I proceeded to set my alarm clock and stay over. In the morning, she wanted to have morning sex, as usual. Pretty much every time I see her, I have plans to see another girl the next day, so I always avoid it. She always gets irked by it and feels the need to comment.
As I was walking out, she noticed the condom wrapper on her nightstand. “New brand?”
“Yeah, I like them.”
I realized that made it sound blatant that I was sleeping with other people.
“I mean… I don’t know.”
“They’re not really new. I used to use them back in college.”
Cookie and the other long-time member of my harem, Aggressive Asian, are both low-maintenance. They are both shy and independent. Neither of them is really looking for a boyfriend. They are ideal members of the harem because they don’t run in any social circle that could even overlap with my own, and they are basically available whenever I want to make plans, no strings attached.
On the other end of the spectrum is Valley Girl, who has been my “main girl” for the last two months. I’ve been sleeping with her once or twice every week during that span.
In all the time we’ve been together, it has been obvious that VG is getting more and more attached to me, acting like my girlfriend, even “accidentally” introducing me to her parents, and also her grandparents, and also her uncle… She has not, however, felt it necessary to have “the talk” and figure out what our status is. It came up briefly once, after a couple of weeks, and I gave her my default speech about “not wanting to rush into anything” and “not feeling like there was room in my life for a relationship.”
I didn’t explain how the current state of the sexual marketplace rewards me much more for staying single and sleeping around. I don’t know if she would’ve gotten it.
So a week ago, VG invited me out to drink with her girlfriends at a bar, and told me to invite friends. The first thought that crossed my mind was, “What friends?” But I figured I’d give some acquaintances the courtesy of inviting them to hang with a group of females. I do actually have some guys out here I enjoy hanging out with. I just hardly ever see them.
A good friend who lives in an awesome house in the hills with five other dudes said he was game to hang. We discussed pregaming a bit, and he said I should invite the girls to his place. I went ahead and did that, and then realized what a huge mistake I had made.
These guys are known for their legendary parties, and the following weekend, they were going to be throwing their biggest of all: Halloween. Last year, Quentin Tarantino had randomly showed up, just because there were a lot of cool, sexy young Hollywood people there.
I realized that VG was going to get invited to the party while we were all hanging out, but there was nothing I could do about it. If it had just been my buddy coming to the bar, I could have briefed him on the situation. But going to hang out at the house was a guarantee.
I didn’t want Valley Girl at the party because I would be catching up with a lot of friends and meeting a lot of sexy new girls dressed in slutty costumes. But sure enough, the guys invited her.
So over this last week, I kept contact to a minimum. Ignored her calls, responded tersely to one or two texts. Maybe she would make other plans.
On Saturday she calls me. I know what it’s about; I might as well answer.
“Heyyy what’s up?”
“Nothing. You calling me about the party tonight?”
“Uh yeah of course!”
“So you’re going?”
“Yeah, did you think I was gonna ditch you? Haha!”
So we make our plans for her to come over and then leave for the party. Her friend from the previous week was meeting us there as well.
We get there early to avoid the commotion, and chill out drinking. I am too lazy to prepare a costume, so I go as a suave Don Draper again (suit + fedora). As the night goes on and the party fills up with beautiful women, VG’s friend gets really bored, and then goes completely nuts when VG accidentally spills her drink on her. The friend says she is leaving to go somewhere else, meaning I am now 100% babysitting VG.
To make matters worse, she is getting shitfaced, and will not stop hanging on me like a baby. She is constantly trying to turn my head to make out with her, even while I am trying to have conversations with friends.
Finally, one hot girl dressed in a sailor outfit asks her, “Is this your boyfriend?” Valley Girl looks dumbfounded. “Uh, not technically.”
A minute later, VG pulls me aside. “Heyyyy… We should talk about something…..”
“I just… I don’t know what your feelings are…”
God damn it I will fucking kill you. Not in the middle of this party.
“I just want to know if we are going to be official or what. I feel like we already basically are but I don’t know what to say when people ask…”
“Valley Girl, can we talk about this later?”
“Yeah but… but can’t you just tell me now?”
“I’ve already told you, I’m not interested in a relationship.”
It’s like I slapped her in the face.
“Whha… You mean with me? Or in general?”
“Do you think you will eventually want to be in a relationship with me?”
“I don’t know. I like hanging out with you, though.”
“I just feel like… if you don’t know now, you’re never going to know……”
We go on like this for a solid 15 minutes. It is excruciating. She says she would be disgusted if I hooked up with someone else. I tell her that being in a relationship and being exclusive mean the same thing to me. She starts crying and says she needs to be alone for a few minutes. She walks off into an unoccupied bedroom.
I’m not going to squander these few minutes alone!
I walk outside to the backyard and a girl almost hits me while trying to whip a guy with her costume’s whip. I stop and give her shit about it. I realize I had noticed this girl earlier when her extremely round ass had almost knocked a drink out of my hand with its sheer force.
I run very tight game for a minute. I tease her by giving an obviously fake name (Enrique), and when she makes a comment about her nice ass, I tell her that mine is nicer. She asks how many people say mine is the nicest ass they’ve ever seen when I take my clothes off. I tell her “every single one.” She smiles, and wants me.
I tell her I need to go find my friends. She touches my arm and says, “Come find me on the dance floor later…” God damn it.
I say I’m not sure if I’ll run into her again since I have a lot of people to see. “So just give me your number now in case.” We exchange numbers.
Time elapsed: 3 minutes, 23 seconds*
I realize I have Valley Girl’s phone, so if she wanders off I will never find her and she will probably die in the mountains. I return back inside to find her.
A really cute blond girl I’ve run into at multiple places the last few months recognizes me. She approaches me and introduces me to her group of cute friends. She says “Come join us on the dance floor!” Seriously, what the fuck. This is like Pussy Christmas and even in this version, I’m still Jewish.
I tell them I’ll catch up with them and go off to find Valley Girl. She is not too far from where I left her. She hugs me and proceeds to have another version of The Talk. I finally get her to stop so we can walk around and see some of my other friends.
She keeps clinging to me and acting weird. Trying to kiss me nonstop. I give her the cold shoulder.
Finally I just tell her I want to leave. She quizzes me on why I would want to leave. You don’t want the answer to this question, so shut the fuck up.
I make up some bullshit about how I’m the designated driver and can’t drink anymore. We head back to my place, where we proceed to talk for another 30 minutes. I listen to her rationalizations and have a complete understanding of what she truly means by everything she says– much more than she does.
What strikes me the most is the fact that Valley Girl, a supposedly intelligent, upper-class girl raised in the 21st Century, has almost no self-awareness about her actions having consequences, and no knowledge of the sexual marketplace.
Oh wait. That’s not surprising at all.
Basically, she doesn’t get the concept that if she is getting emotionally invested, it’s her job to have The Talk early on, probably even before she starts having sex with a guy. She naively assumes that she can just fuck a guy 25 times, fall in love with him, never discuss what he wants out of it, and then he will magically feel the same way as her.
To her credit, she doesn’t blame me or accuse me of manipulating her. She is just confused and frustrated that at this juncture, I don’t want a relationship. She is trying to decide if she can keep going, keep seeing me and sleeping with me.
I’ve been pretty much over sleeping with her for the last few weeks. She has some annoying things about her personality, and the fact that she is clinging and acting like she is my girlfriend makes it all the worse. This might just be the final straw.
I don’t really participate in the conversation much, just letting her talk, and saying “Uh huh” once in a while. I keep thinking that I would just tell her it’s over and send her home if she wasn’t so drunk. Also if she didn’t have my copy of The Gunslinger I had just lent her… Shit, I love that book.
Eventually she calms down and we have sex. The following morning we chill out for a bit, and she finally leaves.
I was glad to be rid of her; she felt like a parasite after the events of the previous night. But of course by that evening, she was already calling me again. I didn’t answer.
I really need to put some space between us right now. She’s a nice girl and I don’t want to hurt her, but her expectations are unrealistic. Here’s what I wanted to say to her:
What do you value more: A relationship, or sex? If you value a relationship more, then you shouldn’t be having sex until you’re in one. You’ve been giving me free sex for almost two months, whenever I want it. Why would I want to sacrifice my freedom, my time, and my ability to bang many different women just to keep getting the same thing I already have?
For women today, if they continue following the mainstream, feminist cultural programming, giving away sex for free to any man who demonstrates some “alpha” cred, they will end up in de facto harems, and civilization will continue its slow roll toward destruction.
As for the men, every one of us must decide for himself how he wants to balance his portfolio and run his life. There is a place for committed relationships in our worldview. There is also free reign to collect girls like Pokemon and live the life of a primitive warlord. Whatever lifestyle you choose is valid if it’s true to your needs, goals, and comes from a place of knowledge and honesty.
Sometimes a girl becomes more of a liability than an asset, and you need to turn back from the philosophy of volume toward a sleeker, less entangled lifestyle. Sometimes you have to set it all ablaze so you can spring forth from the ashes again.
Just a public service announcement about some upcoming programming changes on The Quest For 50.
I haven’t been posting much, but I’d like to post more. I am going to try to establish this new schedule, and we’ll see how long it lasts:
RECAP MONDAYS — A personal update from my life, and a recap of any sex/dating/pickup that has been going on that week.
MISCELLANEOUS TUESDAYS — A random post about the world, news, current events, Game, philosophy, or anything else that interests me.
GAME THURSDAYS — A general post about a Game concept, theory, strategy, etc. (to get you ready for the weekend).
Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.
Despite the epic bitch session that constituted my last post, things are alive and well in my world. I wish I had more time to blog; I have a back log of a bunch of good topics to write about when I get a chance.
I should definitely recap the events of tonight, though.
After hearing about a meetup/mixer for LA dating bloggers, I decided to risk my anonymity and venture out to it. I figured it would be entertaining to see people’s reactions to my blog– since it’s so outside the mainstream dating blogger’s worldview– but also to meet some fellow bloggers, have a good discussion and talk about our craft.
The girls all seemed excited to have me there, and I was able to explain the premise of my blog without completely alienating them. I think they were kind of impressed that I had the balls to show up and talk about it. The bartender asked me what I blog about and I said, “Having sex with chicks.” He gave me a fist-bump, and we talked for a few minutes.
Eventually we got into a spirited debate about men and women, and I wasn’t about to hold back. I was there as the ultimate, complete version of myself: Dagonet and **** both in plain sight, using all sides of my knowledge, opinion and experience.
The girls seemed shocked when I started explaining how it’s a masculine quality for women to have career ambition, and that men are not sexually attracted to it. I was calm and fair the whole time, inviting a discussion and clearly explaining my thought process.
However, Jennifer (of Bad Online Dates) apparently couldn’t handle some simple, non-judgmental truths about men and women. She angrily stood up as I was talking and said, “Women are evolved farther beyond the cave than men. I can’t listen to this anymore, I’ve written books on these topics, and you are completely wrong.”
She then turned and stormed out into the night. I shrugged it off and explained to the remaining members of our party that there is no inherent morality in the characteristics of the sexes; men and women each have their traits, and it is a fallacy to say one is “better” than the other. Swoon
After that, I got into a deeper conversation with Single Tease. We covered a lot of topics, and I began introducing some of the Manosphere’s lingo and worldview to her. She said it seemed like a cult because I kept speaking in terms of “we” (the Manosphere).
She decided to leave around 11 and asked me to walk her to her car. I could tell that she had been attracted to my confidence, and my mastery with the subject matter at hand. We joked around as we walked down the block to her car. “I will admit…” she said. “You’ve got games.”
“We don’t pluralize it,” I said.
We got to her car and talked a moment longer. Then she said, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Gotta love blogger chicks.
We made out for a minute, and then we said goodbye. Earlier she had given me one of her site’s pick-up cards, which you can use as an icebreaker to hand someone. It says “This is a pickup” and you can write your name and number on it. I had filled it out before and was going to try it out on a stranger at the bar, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Appropriately, I just gave Single Tease her own company’s card with my info already filled in. I had even checked off “I met you in (a bar).”
About one minute later she texted me: “Hot. I’ll give you that. Nice meeting you.”
I went back inside and chilled with Melissa Mae and Dirty In Public. We joked about having a threesome, and then me and Dirty cuddled a bit when MM was in the bathroom. Overall it just got too late and the momentum of the evening faded away. After we had talked a while longer, we finally said our goodbyes.
As I drove home, I realized that I had gotten 3 free beers and had forgotten to pay for the food I ordered.
Pretty good night, overall.
I like being Dagonet in public. I think I’ll talk more about blogging when I’m out meeting people in the future. It just feels like I’m more……