The Myth of "Safe Sex"

It’s rough out there for a single guy trying to meet a not-awful attractive girl. I know what you’re going through.

You are either…Sick and tired of wasting your time trying to meet girls online or in the real world, who are astoundingly flaky and hard to get out on a date. You seem damned to flounder in the friend zone, where nobody wants to touch your dick.OrActively dating, but the girls are so monotonously predictable in their shallowness, smartphone addiction, and their general lack of putting in an effort towards having some semblance of a new relationship.OrDisappointed by the shoddy quality of the options you have. The girls you could date are just not attractive or feminine enough to get you excited.

Whatever the case is for you, you’re growing cynical about women. The reward is just so minuscule for the effort you put in dating or trying to date women.

And since you’re reading this, you’re probably “red pilled” on women; you get that women are dangerous because of…

* Their amazing capacity to drain our bank account balances and lighten our wallets.

* All the crazy, demented, narcissistic women out there.

* Unplanned pregnancies and nasty STDs.

* The life-ruining threat of a false accusation that looms over heterosexual men in the hysterical #MeToo era.

* Their propensity to cheat and lie.

* Divorce and the tyrannical, man-hating family court system.

* The minefield of dating and romance scams which must be avoided.

The red-pilled man has heard enough ridiculous, enraging stories of the “fairer sex’s” inglorious and skanky antics that he knows that sleeping with the wrong girl is metaphorically (and perhaps literally, considering all the relentless venereal diseases out there) akin to sticking your dick in a blender.

This book is unapologetically a right-wing, traditionalist take, but I realize that might not be exactly how you align ideologically. You might be more liberal, progressive, or libertarian in your views, and you may be thinking…It’s not the 1950s anymore. How is an “old-fashioned,” right-wing, traditionalist take on dating and courtship going to help me in the current year?…as you’re about to put this book down. First, I’ll remind you of what Aristotle said:

“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”

I’m not trying to shove any advice down your throat. You’re already well aware of the mainstream liberal take on dating, sex, and relationships; you get it from television, you get it from numerous popular gurus, you get it streamed via Netflix, you get it from New York Times bestselling relationship books, you get it from your college professors, you get it from TED Talks, and you can even get it next to the gum in the magazines sold at the grocery store. Shouldn’t you at least entertain the counterpoints to what’s so mainstream?Secondly, I’m a very happily married man who (almost certainly) has a better sex life than you. I won a great woman’s heart and undying commitment; she respects me immensely, and we have hot sex all the time. This is a result of integrating a traditionalist mindset, which upholds truth, beauty, and the sanctity of family, with the cutting edge of accelerated personal growth tools and strategies. It’s fine to disagree on politics or ideology, but you can’t argue with the result...

Red pilled in jail

In my early 20s, I was arrested and spent three days in jail for an unpaid speeding ticket. Here’s the good thing about jail: it can be very educational. In the Arapahoe County Jail south of Denver, I spent hours talking with the other prisoners. Hearing their stories about how they ended up there. The commonality among many of them was that their troubles started with or were exacerbated by women. Having sex with, partying with, living with, and making babies with the wrong women resulted in a cascade of consequences that ended up with them locked up, sleeping on a hard bed in a cell, and sitting across from me, eating yet another jailhouse meal of barely identifiable slop. It was a sobering lesson that was probably well worth going to jail for three days to learn. Although frankly, I didn’t heed the warnings unwittingly issued to me by my fellow inmates as much as I should have. I would go on to stick my dick in several “blenders,” but fortunately, the blend button was never really pushed. Dumb luck, along with a modicum of common sense and self-control, kept me from really getting scorched (metaphorically speaking - I did, in fact, catch on fire once during a date and was badly scorched - that story is in the next chapter) in the ensuing decade that I danced with fire.

Given the danger involved with women and the seeming impossibility of meeting a decent girl, a lot of men are going MGTOW; retreating into the digital opium den, pixel pleasure-world of endless internet porn and video games. And many decent, ambitious men, given the state of the sexual marketplace, choose to just focus on their careers. They imagine that in just a few years, when they’re making good money and can afford to status signal a little with a fancy apartment, shiny car, or really fly clothes, then they will take the dating thing seriously, their dream girl will appear, swoon at the sight of all their cool shit, and they will live happily ever after. In the current year, many men are, in quiet desperation, doing something almost totally unprecedented in the history of life on this planet: they are shrinking back from their genetic duty to reproduce - nothing else with DNA does that!

But you wouldn’t be reading this if you had already given up hope on women, and for that, I applaud you. The challenges your male ancestors faced included being sent off to fight in brutal wars, surviving frigid winters in the unforgiving wilderness, or breaking their backs plowing fields to put just a little food on the table for their families. Contrasted against the harsh history your genes have been through, the challenging task of meeting, romancing, and seducing a virtuous woman is really not that bad.

Storytime - A malicious madre in Medellín

I was in my coworking space in Medellín, Colombia (where I lived for almost 3 years) when my buddy Phil, an English guy also living there, texted me…

“Mate, you would not believe what I’m dealing with! Buy you a beer tonight?”

I agreed, and a few hours later Phil swung by my coworking space and we cracked open some beers at a nearby patio. Phil had stuck his dick in a blender and was really starting to regret it. Sometimes we all need a friend to listen to our woes, so that’s what I did. Phil was another expat like me, living in Colombia and enjoying las mujeres. Phil was tall, charming, spoke fluent Spanish, was a great salsa dancer, and had that regal northern European look that the Colombianas find so exotically attractive. He had gotten a Colombian woman pregnant, she had recently given birth to a daughter, they had broken up, and now she was doing everything in her power to make his life hell. As Phil finished his third drink, he told me how this utterly spiteful woman had stolen his passport and told him that she had sold it to some local criminals, whom he would have to buy it back from. But what made Phil angry was that she was an awful, egregiously irresponsible mother to their daughter. She would do things like go out partying with her friends and just leave the very young baby alone at home. As Phil bemoaned his predicament with this awful woman, I stopped him and asked:

“Man, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to stick your dick in crazy?”

He sighed and