Posting Again….

ok, i talked to DS, he’s good. he’ll post soon. hr really dislikes ignoring you guys. so he want’s to post as soon as he can.

but rest assured………he’s ok. he just needs to unwind.


Standby Kids

KillSquat finally got back to me. he’s dealing with some shit you civies will never understand. give him him some time. i’ll be talking with him and hopefully he’ll be posting soon enough. in the mean time, read my site and my blogroll folks.

not sure when he’ll post, but i need to talk to him more. and to be honest, he needs some HM venting before he posts again. so……until he unloads on me, he’ll be in hiding.

what you readers don’t get is that Marines are SERIOUS when they spill to us HM’s.

that’s all you get. he’ll be back when i’m done fixing him. and fixing Marine’s is my primary job.

All’s Well

It’s Danny again…..

Just spoke to the Jarhead Dickbag and he’s fine. He’s just a tad sleepy, and needs some rest. He’ll be posting soon, I’m sure.

Stay up.

Tools #2

As often happens, I got busy as hell and wasn’t very active on this blog or the others I habitually frequent.  This little corner of the internet takes up rather more time than I thought it would.  Right now, it looks like I’ll be able to update once a week or so, and I’ll be slow answering comments for about the next month.  Sorry ’bout that, but real life is more fun than the internet.

Alrighty, then – to the next entry:

No Shit – there I was, trapped in Time and surrounded by Evil.  I was low on ammo, and it was dark and cold.  I didn’t know what time it was, and I looked over at…


Wrong story.


In the post Tools #1, I talked about subconscious attraction cues and using pattern recognition as a stepping stone toward recognizing your own.  Some of them are
obvious – guys generally like healthy appearing women who exhibit signs of fertility.  (Eureka….snooze….)  Culture plays a roll as well – I’m not much into gals with stretched out necks, but some Burmese dudes dig it.  Poor bastards get raised that way, I guess.  That’s not what I’m talking about here.  The issue I’m addressing is that last 10%, that indefinable something that causes to you perceive some women as goddesses, and others as mere generic Hot Chicks.  Believe it or not, that differentiation happens in your own brain-housing group.  It has little to do with the objective qualities of the woman.  Recognizing the traits that flip your switch like that is worth considering.

You may find that your indefinable somethings are healthy and contribute to your long term happiness.  If that’s you, you don’t need this post.  Go play bocce ball or fold your laundry for 20 minutes or something, you psychological showoff bastards.  If, on the other hand, you’ve found yourself drawn to women who have a net negative effect on your life, come with me on yet another humorless journey of hellish introspection.

Huzzah! and such.

If you haven’t yet, please read the post titled “On Insecurity”, as those ideas figure prominently.

If you have your shit together (more complicated and debatable than it sounds – more on that later), a good woman will be like a combat multiplier – she’ll enable/push/allow you to do more of whatever you want to do.  That could be anything from providing focus and stabiltity in your life, to providing a little boost to your ego when you need it most, or adding fun, pleasure, and friendship to otherwise mundane hours.  I heard some women even have babies from time to time, so if you want to own one of those baby-type things you’re going to have to deal with a woman at some point.

It’s a fucking fact, though, that women can Wreck. Your. Shit. if you lack situational awareness.  Divorce, gutted self-esteem, wasted time, wasted money, and missed opportunity all await the man who chooses poorly.  “They” say that behind every great man stands a great woman.  That’s true for a lot of succesful men.  Behind a lot of guys who aren’t worth a damn stands a woman who helped pave the way toward mediocrity.  “They” don’t trot out that little platitude much, but it’s true.

A little common sense dictates picking a woman that adds good to your life, right?  What do you do, then, if you find yourself inexplicably drawn to women that have a net negative effect on you?  Do the Blue Pill thing and redefine “negative effect” and “common sense”?  Settle? Start hanging out in gay bars?

Give this an honest effort, instead:

Reject the statement “inexplicably drawn”.  “Inexplicably drawn” describes the relationship between moths and a Coleman lantern.  You are not some six legged flying horror destined for fiery oblivion, you’re a fucking man.  There are reasons for what you do, whether you choose to aknowlege it or not.  Accepting this is the first stumble on a journey of a thousand blisters.  Sure, some of those reasons are not nice.  Some of them say things about you that you might not like, things you wish weren’t true.  That’s fine – you can work on that junk later if you want.  Don’t shy away from the “bad” stuff – pull it out and examine it.  It’s a huge part of Why You Do What You Do.  Nobody’s watching, and nobody will know.  It’s important.

Next, objectively evaluate the impact a woman (or women) are having on your life.  Keep in mind that no person is entirely “good” or “bad”, and no relationship is, either.  This evaluation is harder to do than it sounds, and bears some careful consideration.  There are short and long term goals, second and third order effects.  If you’re not in tune with what drives you, what holes you’re looking to fill, and why you desire certain things, you’re going to be inaccurate in your assessment.  Garbage in = garbage out.  Spend some time thinking about this.  If you have trustworthy friends, seek some input.

Personal example time:

I mentioned in the last post that I used to be Sergeant Save-A-Ho.  I was really attracted to women that were….shall we say…a bit “troubled”.  About four or five years ago, I also started reading about/practicing Game.  Those two things were a Perfect Storm of Shit.

Seriously – I’m sitting here typing/thinking back, and when my mind brushes across those years, I get this wierd icy-cannonball-in-the-gut feeling.  It all seems so obvious now, but I wasted a tremendous amount of time and energy doing The Wrong Things For The Wrong Reasons.  Blech.

Over about a two year period, I was involved with:

-A stripper
-An architect
-A cocktail waitress
-A psychology grad student
-A yoga instructor
-A semi-pro model/sommelier
-A professional modern dancer

All of these girls were attractive.  Most were fun.  Some were smart, a few were funny.  I had a reputation for dating beautiful women.  Once a week someone would say,”Dude, how do you do it?!” On the surface, I was doing great.  My acquaintances were envious.  My very close friends were ready to pack me off to a monastery.  Why?  Here’s a more accurate list:

-A stripper (‘nough said)
-An architect with an eating disorder
-An alcoholic cocktail waitress
-A psychology grad student with poorly controlled bipolar disorder.
-A yoga instructor with daddy issues and pronounced gold-digger tendencies – come to think about it, she had some issues with food, too.
-A cokehead semi-pro model/sommelier who’s abusive ex-boyfriend/dealer tried to stab me
-A professional modern dancer with sexual identity problems (weird, weird shit, man –  not suitable for children, the aged, or the infirm.)

I’m a decent-looking guy (my mother says I’m quite handsome, actually), and I have reasonable Game.  I had a lot of stuff going for me – I was the Head of Security at a very hot club/lounge, a lot of connections, many acquaintances, and a shitload of pre-selection going on.  I made decent money at a fun job, and I knew what a bunch of hot girls looked like naked.  Of all those girls, only one dumped me – and she begged for me to take her back two months later.  According to some of the more superficial Game blogs, I should have been as happy as a pig in shit.

Why do I get that cannonball-in-the-gut feeling when I think back to those days, then?

Because some part of me knew I was just treading water.  I was floating on an ocean of women, riding wave-crests of hope and booty, then sliding into the troughs of disappointment and depression. Over and over and over again.  I was getting cynical and mentally tired.  I was acting like an animal, without introspection or higher thought.  I let myself be a slave to my insecurities.

Insecurities!?, you ask, aghast – How could a guy with all that going for him be insecure?

I’m glad you asked, even if you didn’t.  Here’s what I was insecure about:

-I was having some lingering physical difficulties from a bad day in Iraq.  You just ain’t the same after you get blowed up a time or two.
-I didn’t like my physical appearance.  I’d put on a bit of weight and lost some muscle after getting out of the military.  I have some ugly scars as well.
-I was terrified of getting dumped by a woman I was in love with…again.
-I hated myself because of some very ugly things I’ve done.
-In my bones, I was still a Blue Pill chump who thought he was lucky if a pretty girl gave him the time of day.
-Superficial, dead-end job.

One guy dating so many effed up women in such a short time doesn’t seem like such a statistical improbability now, does it? I was programmed to seek out a certain type of woman, one who could mitigate some or all of my issues.

Some of those insecurities had more influence than others, and some didn’t manifest in a consistent manner.  The most powerful was probably the self-hate.  I felt (and still feel) a powerful compulsion to even the scales a bit, to do some good, try and balance some terrible things I’ve done.  An early attempt at this was to try and “save” women with problems.  The dead-end job issue lead me to alternately desire and shun women with (relatively) prestigious career paths, depending on how I was doing.  My appearance/physical issues led me to value the physical perfection above all else in my girlfriends – “proving” in a goofy way that I was still attractive and desirable.

Once I got a handle on this stuff, I addressed what I could.  I got into decent shape.  I’ve put some Good Things into the universe, and come to terms with some of the Ugly Things. I get paid for “saving” people now.  I have a career path, rather than a job.  I beat the last of that Blue Pill Chump out of myself, mostly through repetition and endurance.

Addressing this crap had a predictable effect on my attraction triggers.  The thought of dating an addicted/disturbed woman is flavored with distaste now.  My lizard brain no longer perceives a diversion/opportunity, but a burden.  I deal with that shit at work, and it’s the last thing I want to come home to.  I still sense it on women, but it doesn’t create a drive anymore.  Same deal with abuse situations – I get my kicks practicing Krav.  Going to jail (however “heroically”) in defense of a pathologically troubled woman seems stupid rather than noble.  I’ve got things I’m proud of these days other than what my girlfriend looks like.

Feels good, man.

All of these things look quite simple and obvious laid out on the screen, don’t they?  If you were my friend back then, they’d be easy to spot after knowing me for several months.  Hell, you probably could’ve laid it out for me, like I did just now.  Easy peasy, right?  You’re probably nodding along because you know a guy who does the same thing…dumbass doesn’t even realize how obvious it is…

Guess what?

You’ve got a list, too.  It’s probably not the same as mine (I hope not, for your sake), and it influences you in different ways, but you’ve got one.  No shit.  You might have been shy in high school, and now find gregarious women attractive.  You might want other men drooling over your girl’s half-naked body so you feel better than them.  You might be messy, but find yourself drawn to very organized women. The correlation might be easy to see, or Byzantine in it’s complexity – but it’s there.

Not all of your drives/motivations/insecurities lead to bad outcomes.  Not all of them are worth spending time and effort on (like redheads with big tits?  So what?).  Don’t dismiss them all, though.  Think hard enough, get brutally honest with yourself, and pay close enough attention, you’ll realize a few that you’ve paid dearly for.

One of the things I’ve always found interesting about the human animal is how good we are at judging others, and how terrible we are at taking our own measure.  Thinking men get better at this with experience and practice.  For a young guy (or an unpracticed one), nothing beats using his relationships/attractions as a tool to ferret out things he has trouble admitting to himself – or simply doesn’t realize.

Seeing one’s target clearly is often the most difficult task.  If you can see your target, you can hit it.  If you can hit it, you can kill it – and move on to the next one.

Feel free to argue, disagree, learn, or teach in the comments.  Some of you guys reading this have been through similar transformations.  Let the younger guys in on how you did it.  Some folks might think I’m full of shit – that’s fine, too.  I don’t have All The Answers, just the ones that worked for me.  I’m happy to clarify or elaborate, time permitting.

Bonus points for connecting what I’ve talked about here to Game.  There are a bunch of corollaries in here, but this is the hand-crafted, individually tailored, eight essential vitamins and minerals version – not the mass-produced, one-size-fits-all, high fructose corn syrup stuff.  Apply moderation with both.  Arrogant foodies are more irritating than leprosy, but McDonald’s will kill you eventually.  More bad metaphors next week.

Thanks for reading and thinking.

On Insecurity

Wikipedia says:

“An intimate relationship is a particularly close interpersonal relationship that involves physical or emotional intimacy. Physical intimacy is characterized by romantic or passionate love and attachment, or sexual activity.”

No shit, right?

Anybody who’s reading this spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about relationships – how they work, when they happen, what kind of people they happen to…

I’ll bet you could spell out in exact detail the type of relationships you want, and with whom.  Would you consider a single mom?  Your current girl, but 15 lbs lighter? A reformed carousel rider?  Twin bisexual cheerleaders who inherited a chain of liquor stores?

How should she treat you?  Supportive and submissive?  How many blowjobs a week is optimal?  You looking to start a family?  How much debt is that hottie dragging around?

All that stuff is important to work out, right?  You’ve got to know what you’re looking for and who’s a bad bet, or you’ll never be happy.  That’s common knowledge, of course.  Of Course…Everybody says it so it’s gotta be true…


Well….no, not really.  Not yet.

You’re starting in the wrong place.  You’re attempting a kidney transplant surgery believing a semester of high school biology is perfectly adequate preparation.  Make an incision and get started, if you want.  In the grand scheme of things, another rapidly cooling corpse is no big deal.

So, Smart Guy, I hear you ask – just what should I be thinking about?

The answer, as with so many things, is You.

Seriously – what the hell are you after?  What are you hoping to achieve, to feel, to become, in your relations with women?  If you’ve never before thought about this, it’s deceptively hard.

“No it’s not!” the novice crows,”I just wanna bang that receptionist with the big tits!”

The novice isn’t answering the question.  Why her?  Why not some other clerical worker with similar mammary glands?  Why not an actress with small boobs or a lunch lady with one?  If you can’t honestly answer, you’re going in blind and dumb.  You’ll have more fun and better long-term results wrapping 50 feet of duct tape around your head and sprinting across highways.

Why is this particular question so critical?

It’s the only way to recognize your insecurities as they pertain to relationships – and every human being yet born has insecurities.  The answer to that question is the first part of identifying the habits and subconscious strategies you use to compensate.

Insecurities are highly individual – possibly even unique in their manifestations from person to person.  A lonely nerd might pine for a gregarious woman – a relationship with her might prove to himself that he’s just as good as the “popular kids”.  It might salve the red, suppurating rash of loneliness, or offer an opportunity to shed his old social identity like a snakeskin against the rocks of her world.

A disorganized, grabasstic underachiever might be drawn to a woman who keeps a clean house – possibly seeking to benefit from her structure and stability, to learn a bit of that for himself.  He could also be working with some weapons-grade cognitive dissonance, seeking to prove to others he’s not actually that much of a slob.  Shit, his girlfriend wears librarian glasses and has plastic wrapped couches in her apartment.  She makes people take their shoes off inside!  A girl like that would never date a guy who didn’t have his shit together – obviously.  Her librarian glasses signal to himself and others that he’s reliable and organized…at least in his mind they do.

Even though insecurities are as unique as fingerprints, they have some common attributes.  They all influence one’s social environment – from the girl with a weird tooth who hates smiling to a fat asthmatic kid who affects intellectual superiority toward athletes.  Tooth-Girl’s lack of smiling will gradually nudge her toward interests, peers, and activities that are different than a more smiley person.  Maybe she wears a lot of black eyeliner, listens to The Cure and VAST, and starts smoking at age 15 with the goth kids.  They don’t smile, either, and she’s more comfortable with them.  The fat asthmatic kid will preserve/obtain his self esteem from other kids who don’t like sports – maybe he gets into programming or theater.

Insecurities also influence who we sustain intense attraction with.  A partner who assuages, invalidates, or compensates for our insecurities evokes more than attraction from us.  In extreme cases, you can feel like a person has “fixed” you or made you whole – in addition to more pedestrian love and attraction.  You can come to depend on them for your identity. They fill some hole you have in your ego. This can be very powerful.

Your insecurities are communicated overtly and covertly to the people you interact with.  It’s helpful to think of them like smells – you stink like hobo socks and skunky Budweiser and you ain’t getting in to that club.  The right kind of pheromones, though, can make a pretty girl into a goddess – for the right kind of guy.  So it is with insecurities – you’re interacting with people who’s brains are highly adapted for picking up subtle cues in their fellow humans.  Not much gets missed.  Many times you think you’ve gotten away with compensating, the other person simply didn’t call you out/think it relevant.  They notice and evaluate, though, even if it’s subconscious.  Uncle Paul’s elevator shoes ain’t foolin’ anybody, and neither are Jeremy Piven’s hair plugs.

It seems that most people never bother to examine their insecurities in any meaningful way.  We’re all experts at spotting others, but our own might only warrant some blustery talk or a bullshit waist size on some relaxed-fit jeans.

Consider that for a moment.  Other people can’t fool you very easily, can they?  You can spot the Napoleon Complex after 10 seconds of interaction.  You see the strange head tilt and heavy makeup of the girl with the big zit on her forehead.  They can’t hide this stuff they so obviously want to hide.  You are no different – you broadcast your crap just as they do.

How do your insecurities influence you?  What “choices” do you make that are really the dictates of your insecurities?  What does being massively infatuated with some particular person indicate about your self image and your personal context?  How has that influenced other areas of your life?  Why are you attracted to X?

Could you change it if you wanted to?

Couple things about this stuff I wanted to mention:

Sometimes our insecurities are ugly, or stem from ugly causes.  That’s fine – if you liked something about yourself, it wouldn’t make you insecure, would it?  If you shy away from thinking about them, though, you’ll never, ever improve.  It’s necessary to either bull through this natural aversion, or learn to examine yourself objectively.

One technique to identify subtle insecurities that influence your present behavior is to get ruthless and clinical about your past. Sit somewhere quiet for an hour and think.  What were you after when you did X? How did Y make you feel, and what would have made you feel different?  Why do you like Girl 1 but not Girl 2, and what does that mean?  What would your mother say about that?  Your best friend? Teddy Roosevelt?  George Washington?

Also, this stuff might not be useful if you’re just looking to bang bar-skanks.  It can be a lot of uncomfortable work, and there are many easy, somewhat effective ways to camouflage the insecurities most detrimental to rapid-rate booty.

It’s also tempting for a naturally shy guy to use this focused introspection as a means of avoidance.  Don’t bullshit yourself.

Sermon the Second, Part One

If you learn nothing else from me, let it be this:

Women want what they want.  Period.  End of story.

There is much gnashing of teeth done by men who’ve just taken the Red Pill:

“How could she leave me?  I was the fastest COBOL coder in this time zone!”

“But…but…but I handed my entire paycheck over to her every week!  I never so much as looked at another woman!”

“I brought her flowers and asked if she would please accompany me to a showing of The Vagina Monologues.  She flaked and went drinking with Spike instead.  He’s got two motorcycles and no helmet.  He went to a trade school, for fuck’s sake.”

Another hard truth here, gents:

Most of you Blue Pill Guys are barking up the wrong tree.  It’s a fact. You just are.  Listen – women are not men.  All the Women’s Studies classes in The Universe will not change that.

The things you respect about yourself and your buddies are not necessarily the things women respect about you.

Let me say that again another way:

Women do not necessarily value the same things in a man that you think are important.

One more time, below your sensitive, politically correct belt:

If you insist on treating women like men with boobs, you’re blinded by your male gaze.  You’re a sexist, actually.  You’re bordering on male chauvinism, especially if you burn billions of calories arguing about why things should be the way you think they are.  You’re just as bad as Amanda Marcotte or that sniveling, lickspittle eunuch who runs the Manboobz site – just the flip side of the coin.

Smear your face with ash, wail piteously, and don a jockstrap of coarsest sackcloth – The Universe doesn’t give a shit, and neither do women.  Women want what they want, not what you think they should want.

Me and lots of other men will argue with you, try and show you the error of your ways, even point out where you picked up this faulty bit of programming.  That’s the point of this blog, as a matter of fact.

However, you need to do a little work yourself.  Like an addict working a 12-step program, you need to accept that the way you did things in the past was not the best way to be happy, long term.  Like a recruit in boot camp, you need to accept that most of what you “know” is bullshit.  You need to use the proffered tools to rebuild yourself into a fully functional man.
Here’s a little Rudyard Kipling to ponder.  Read it, and think about it’s application to your life over the next day or so:

The young recruit is ‘aughty — ‘e draf’s from Gawd knows where;
They bid ‘im show ‘is stockin’s an’ lay ‘is mattress square;
‘E calls it bloomin’ nonsense — ‘e doesn’t know, no more —
An’ then up comes ‘is Company an’kicks’im round the floor!

The young recruit is ‘ammered — ‘e takes it very hard;
‘E ‘angs ‘is ‘ead an’ mutters — ‘e sulks about the yard;
‘E talks o’ “cruel tyrants” which ‘e’ll swing for by-an’-by,
An’ the others ‘ears an’ mocks ‘im, an’ the boy goes orf to cry.

The young recruit is silly — ‘e thinks o’ suicide.
‘E’s lost ‘is gutter-devil; ‘e ‘asn’t got ‘is pride;
But day by day they kicks ‘im, which ‘elps ‘im on a bit,
Till ‘e finds ‘isself one mornin’ with a full an’ proper kit.

Gettin’ clear o’ dirtiness, gettin’ done with mess,
Gettin’ shut o’ doin’ things rather-more-or-less;
Not so fond of abby-nay, kul, nor hazar-ho,
Learns to keep  ‘is ripe an “isself jus’so!

The young recruit is ‘appy — ‘e throws a chest to suit;
You see ‘im grow mustaches; you ‘ear ‘im slap’ is boot.
‘E learns to drop the “bloodies” from every word ‘e slings,
An ‘e shows an ‘ealthy brisket when ‘e strips for bars an’ rings.

The cruel-tyrant-sergeants they watch ‘im ‘arf a year;
They watch ‘im with ‘is comrades, they watch ‘im with ‘is beer;
They watch ‘im with the women at the regimental dance,
And the cruel-tyrant-sergeants send ‘is name along for “Lance.”

An’ now ‘e’s ‘arf o’ nothin’, an’ all a private yet,
‘Is room they up an’ rags ‘im to see what they will get.
They rags ‘im low an’ cunnin’, each dirty trick they can,
But ‘e learns to sweat ‘is temper an ‘e learns to sweat ‘is man.

An’, last, a Colour-Sergeant, as such to be obeyed,
‘E schools ‘is men at cricket, ‘e tells ’em on parade,
They sees ‘im quick an ‘andy, uncommon set an’ smart,
An’ so ‘e talks to orficers which ‘ave the Corps at ‘eart.

That’s a message of hope for those who choose to hear it, and a warning for those who do not.

You’re being kicked by life, day by day.  You can either adjust, or get kicked to Death.  You can use the kicks as teaching tools, or live as a bruised, lumpy human target.  Go ahead.  Maybe someone will admire your tombstone one day:

“Here lies Joe.  He didn’t care about Reality.  He stuck to his fantasy until the bitter, lonely end.  It just made more sense to him than the real world.  He was proud of his failure to adapt and overcome.”

Or, get with the program.  Use your eyes.  Perceive things as they are.  Stop asking,”But what does it all mean!!???!”  That’s the wrong question right now.  It’s counter-productive.  You aren’t qualified to ask, let alone hear the answer, until you understand how it works.

We’ll start getting into some nuts-and-bolts type stuff in Part Two of this ‘ere Sermon.

Sermon the First

Over the next few posts I’m going to lay some foundations.  These are things I think are important for the newly Red-Pilled Man to understand.  Some of them are not nice.  There are no quick fixes for any of them.  Gimmicks will work for a short time, or give you a glimmer of hope, but I’m not interested in that.  I want you to get what you want, long term.  So here’s the first sermon:

Remember what happened the first time you went off to college, or deployed, or visited Grandma over the summer?  You came back home and things were…..different.

There was a new stoplight at that intersection. Johnny’s mom got a new car.  Sarah fucked Billy and now her car’s outside his apartment every night.  Old Man Yi got killed in a robbery and his son Little Yi is running the liquor store.

For many of us, the first time we return home from an extended absence is the first realization that people actually have separate lives.  Instead of seeing only your future stretching out in front of you, an awareness creeps in of thousands of other futures moving forward, all at the same pace.  They intertwine, intersect, or swerve away from your future, never to be seen again.  Stuff happened while you were gone.  It still does.

Keep that in mind.  If you’re naturally a bit narcissistic, or have a tendency toward solipsism, it’s easy to forget.

“But…but…but Dogsquat!  I’m not a narcissist!” you retort.

Yeah, we all are to some degree.  A little narcissism is a good thing.  Without it, you could never show up to a job interview, or stand up to a bully, or argue with a stranger over the internet about how non-narcissistic you are.

I think this facet of humanity is where a lot of guys get into trouble with women.

Say you’re pining over a girl – she’s beautiful and cool and into the same weird shit you are – you spend a lot of time thinking about her.  You imagine a future together or wonder what she’s like in bed.

Well, she ain’t doing that.  Her life is separate from yours.  Her thread may cross yours a few times in the Marvelous Rug Of Life, but it’s not twined intimately with your thread, no matter how much you’d like it to be.  For the most part, people aren’t thinking about you when you’re not right in front of them.

If you pin your hopes for happiness or booty or whatever on some chick, you’re going to let all kinds of bizarre thinking creep in.

That girl you met at the bar?  Not thinking about you right now.

That cute chick that sits next to you in Cell Biology?  Not thinking about you right now.

The ex you’d like to get back together with?  Yup, you guessed it – not thinking about you right now, either.

Why am I repeating this depressing fact of life so many times?

Because it’s superfuckingimportant.

One of the fundamental principles of Game is called Outcome Independence.  It is not talked about often, but it’s one of the most powerful tools you posses.  If your happiness is truly independent from the outcome of an interaction with a woman, you’re halfway to where you want to be.  You won’t fall for little shit tests, appear too desperate, or sink into mini-depressions when she doesn’t text/doesn’t come over/won’t go home with you.  You might not even notice the little landmines girls lay in your path, because you’re skipping right past them.

If you pursue this principle, along with a few other things, you may find desirable women chasing you.

And Gents – it is impossible to be Outcome Independent if you’re pining away over a girl who isn’t thinking about your ass anyway.    There are many ways to discipline the mind in this regard.  Sometime down the road I’ll share mine.

Until then, here’s an easy fix:

Every time you think about a specific girl when she’s not there, or how much you’d like a girl in your life, do 20 push-ups.   Seriously – walk away from the group and pound ’em out.  If you’re in bed and your mind drifts, roll onto the floor and beat your face 20 times.  Studying?  Working?  No excuse – bash ’em out ASAP.

There are times, of course, when a girl is thinking about you.  Until you fully internalize (I mean live it, not fake it) this principle, odds are it’s not the girl you want thinking about you,  or it is the girl you want, but she’s not thinking anything good.

So start pushing, Gents.

Feel free to expand on Outcome Independence in the comments if you have tips or anecdotes to share.