Men have biographies, women have grandchildren. But show me a man who had willingly forgone fatherhood but not sex, and I will show you a man with something queer about him.
At seventeen, you figure out the general direction you want your life to take and you start to make choices with regards to the type of education, work, and interests that are best for you. At seventeen, you know whether you want to go to college, vocational training, into the military, entry-level work, self-employment, or to cut loose for a while and you take steps toward those goals. At seventeen, life opens before you an exciting vista of possibilities. You walk through one door, which means that you forgo others. That is how you become a man.
But what about one significant decision you will make in life… women, sex, having your own family — do you have a plan? In earlier comments, Mendo shines the light at the modern sexual market:
What that one Brit hooker said about some of her clients being good looking fellas: that the price of ass is so high and the quality so low that men would rather rent it than buy. He’s not far off in saying that. It was the “quality so low” line that stood out, which is what many of the comments on here mention -– the unkempt, sloven nature of women nowadays.
Does that describe the sex market once you get out of high school? A thirty-something commenter over at Chateau Heartiste convincingly presents himself as an urbane Alpha. Back in the day, guys like him scored top-shelf poon. He describes his recent sexual encounter. The comment has to be read in full to appreciate what awaits you in an environment where quality women are locked-in young and much of what’s left is… the Wall of Fat.
You may often see a “curvy” or overweight girl and think, “hmm, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.” I’ve learned the hard way that there’s nothing pleasant about the (full)figurative “pleasantly plump” girl.
Take one example. One target, looks cute enough, well manicured, but, with the carefully cropped face pics, I knew something was up(sized).
I meet her at her hotel room (foreign city, there on business, which I’d gathered from our texting, an easy fuck I surmised). She opens the door and sure enough, nice looking girl, perfect hair and makeup, but a spare tire around the waist, thick thighs, big arse, and (the saving grace of tonight’s shew, massive rack). Of course, she’s wearing all black, more flattering, you see.
We stroll through the mall connected to the hotel, eat dinner (naturally), drink a bottle of grape, and stroll a bit more. She invites me up; it’s an ultra modern hotel with sweeping views of the city lit up at night, the desert beyond. Lots of stainless steel. The place is a disaster, shoes everywheres.
At this point, I really didn’t care any more and grabbed her huge bum and threw her on the unmade bed. Then she tells me her mother is staying with her and will be back soon and we need to hurry.
Now I get to the point of the story: I pull her top off, slide the pants off, take the heels and throw them across the room. Once the reinforced bra straps have been let go, the large, majestic empire of tits crashes and collapses to a sagging defeat. The butt, buttressed by leggings (aka exterior girdle) is suddenly no longer firm and perky, but a big, jumbled mess.
She flips on her stomach, presumably to hide the belly from sight, and tells me to pound her. Pound her I do, but it’s not as perfumey fresh as when the evening started.
Not my worse lay, but not great either, in fact it had many pratfalls. One of my more louche moments.
Sorry I had to do that, gentlemen, but it’s important that those of you in the studio audience know exactly what you’re up against (a wall of fat, if you must know), should you spot a “thick” girl and think, “oh, I’m sure it’ll be fun, just like on TV.”
She came back a few weeks later, and, having no other options living in a literal and figurative desert, did it again.
So, if an Alpha gets THAT^^^ . . .
What I’m telling you, is this: If you’re 18 or thereabouts and you have a slim, pleasant girlfriend of your own racial and cultural background in high school and you respect her family, then put buns in her oven right away. You two have the best it’s going to get. Have a plan, marry her, secure your and her parents’ commitment to help you financially.
Or re-read the Wall of Fat anecdote. It’s said that women are best-off cashing in their commitment chips at a young age because they are at peak beauty. What is never pointed out is that young men are at peak access to pretty girls with unspoiled personality. You’ll be more attractive at 35 and possibly even at 50 than you are now but you’re not gonna be swooping high schools at that age. There are trade-offs in life: you can have a healthy start on building your family as you enter adulthood. Or gamble with fortunes as you put off your search and commitment to a quality woman in an environment that corrupts girls as they enter adulthood. Choose one door or the other.
The biggest trade-off: vigor in youth, wisdom in older age. Traditionally, “young dumb & full of cum” newlywed men had fathers, dad’s friends, uncles and grandfathers around for guidance, help and correction. One of the overarching things I press on the importance of, is geographically coherent community and extended family.
I really like this comment by MGE:
I thank God my parents had me when they were very young, 22 I believe. They both came from large midwest Catholic families where that was just the norm. They didn’t have much money, but made it work. No fancy wedding, no engagement ring, no honeymoon. Mom worked at a Piggly Wiggly while my dad finished his education. We lived in cockroach infested apartments in the rust belt. Instead of daycare I was cared for by extended family and occasionally less than savory baby sitters.
I got to enjoy my parents when they were young and full of life and optimism. I have great memories of the wild parties they would throw. As me and my siblings grew older, they kept a “hands off” approach, which is just what they were used to growing up. Instead of keeping a tight leash on me, they trusted the church, which I was deeply involved with, to shape my moral development.
Plumpjack offers a sound second opinion:
It seems to me that women are very amenable to having children when relatively young, 16-20, but that once they hit early 20s they begin to believe the propaganda. I.e., “oh grow up from your fantasy, little girl. NO woman should be dependent on a man for survival!”, and from that point forward become increasingly difficult to lock down… until they hit 35, at which point they are almost all either damaged beyond repair or too old to inspire a solid man to invest everything into her.
So it seems that it would behoove a young man to lock down his high school or college GF with extreme prejudice. But there’s a catch.
We’ll get to what the catch is in a moment. For now, keep in mind that how you got her is how you’ll keep her — by choosing a good one and staying in the driver’s seat in the relationship. Plumpjack gets to what the catch is:
Young guys don’t understand unleashed hypergamy and all of its hideous permutations and implications. Without sufficient field experience he may not be able to handle his wife as she ages. She may mature faster than he does. What if they have daughters? Will he be able to keep THEM under control? Will he have a strong enough pimp hand, if he’s only ever been with the love of his life?
Remember how you got her? It wasn’t by being a sap. It was through your charm and the fact that you have a backbone. It’s a common male mistake to think that now that the relationship is “official” you can put firmness and Game aside and let her rule the roost. You were her first, you taught her everything, she needs you to stay the boss.
I believe that having field experience over and above that of his woman is a necessary component for creating a stable family, particularly in these complicated, dark times. Perhaps the ideal pairing is a guy in his mid- to late 20s, with a woman not much older than 21.
Field experience has its up-sides but you strike the iron when it’s hot. Pussy paradise with bright-smiling leggy vixens ripe for picking was an accident of history, a 1970s hiccup made by a baby boom, homogeneity, and prosperity. Free love had its run but it could never last because demand outpaces supply. Mystery Method of the 2000s was its last gasp — and that was before tats, storied sexual history, and obesity disfigured just about every young single woman you’ll meet. I work in an office right next to a bar district, I see nightlife as it crawls out on a Friday evening when I happen to leave work late. Ungainly thighs and baggy tits, all wrapped in tight fabric and attitude like a turd-tiara. That’s pussy for the above-average man after you get out of high school, boys.
Mankind always returns to virgin marriage as the norm, both men and women. That’s what we’re back to. Unless you wish to play your odds against the Wall of Fat.
Men have biographies, women have grandchildren. And no man’s biography is complete until he plants his seed. Do it now and you have your whole life to live with a wife who matured in your image and children who will grow faster than you expect and in whose eyes you can be the greatest man that ever lived long after you’re gone. At seventeen, you may or may not understand that there is no truer pride than having a son. You certainly aren’t imagining doing fun stuff with him when he’s 21 years old and a young father like you once were, all of this while you’re still strong and energetic. Trust your gut, that’s how it’s supposed to be.
Your great-great-grandfather was a better man than most of us alive today. Your great-great-grandmother was a better woman than most women alive today. You and your girlfriend can light that fire anew. Plant your first seed now and don’t ever stop being fruitful according to the gifts with which you are blessed.
Your great-great-grandfather cleared the soil
Your great-grandfather worked the soil…
Your great-great-grandmother had 14 children
Your great-grandmother had almost as many…
As for you, my friend
What are you doing with your night?
Turn off your TV
Don’t stay all cooped up
Thankfully some things in life will never change
Line up your nicest clothes
Because tonight we’re going dancing.