Deconstructing “Game” – I


Now, I have nothing against PUAs and Game advisors. They all have hustles and certain standards to live by. Over the years, there has many books written in dedication to game and pickup artistry and many have been written by guys who were possibly active in the lifestyle (Neil Strauss’ book The Game is a national bestseller; a book which I have read and I will admit Neil Strauss is an excellent fucking writer). But I ask myself at times, with pickup artistry lingo changing as often as Ebonics, is this information effective, accurate or is it just a scam like most self-help advice carelessly spewed from white-knight captain save-a-hoes and fitness guru-clowns pushing fad diet routines? It could deal with the fact that these men are smart businessmen, selling dreams to people who are struggling with a serious identity crisis, all in the name of profit. Which I honestly understand, because having game does require a lot of money and time spent. On the same token, most game-practitioners claim they can get sex from beautiful women for free. Really? Did you forget to mention the drinks, dinner and dessert you bought her? The money you spent trying to learn game? The gas you put in your car just to take her to your place or a hotel for the night? Last time I checked, not a damned thing in life is free but a walk in the park, an elevator ride or prayer. And what can those things amount to?

As Nino Brown (a nihilistic, drug-dealing character played by Wesley Snipes in New Jack City) stated, “Money talks. Bullshit runs a marathon.” So, to say that a person who practices game will not have to pay for sex is nothing short of a pipe dream. How often does a woman travel from a different city, state or country just to knock on your door, stroke your ego, go sightseeing and get tied up, handcuffed, used, abused and butt-fucked by you, all on her dime? When was the last time you seen women holding up traffic, throwing pussy at a homeless magician, standing under a bridge with a sign that says “Will pull a gerbil out of my ass for sex”?

Granted, there are a few exceptions. Ghetto thugs practice game and pimping to compensate for their lack of financial power.  Although average women who are in the vanilla dating game has more interest in a struggling musician, a drug dealer or a bartending chump racking up chump change than the office guy, or an asshole doctor who spends more time making money than actually spending it. But here’s a question: Is game needed for nerdy Asian guys in college who some white college girls go after? Do athletes and celebrities need game? Fuck no. Some of these men have the wherewithal to frequent call girls, escorts, porn stars and strippers. Their careers and prestige speak for themselves. There’s no need to run game or play smooth operator, unless they are actually running game on their wives (Tiger Woods comes to mind as he bullshitted his wife for as long as he could have gotten away with fucking porn stars, strippers and random plain-Jane white girls who worked at Red Robin, IHOP, etc.). But once the darkness has come to light, how will those wives react? And why would anyone be as stupid as to run game on someone whom they share their homes, bank accounts and foundations with? Isn’t it better to remain single and lay the cards on the table, so there will be no rude awakenings?

Of course, there are many instances where penniless guys have the game to sweep the women in their town off of their feet. Not to mention those who are not using game, simply being themselves with their natural bad-boy, hypersexual bravado and cut bodies which come from spending hours at gyms and fitness centers. I have seen guys like this play women left and right and once a woman tried to escape his brutish grasp, he knows the right words to say or the right erogenous spots to touch to have her helplessly run back to him by her own admission, thus she will find herself oddly in places where she claims to not want to be in, though she cannot help but to submit to him. Then, she will live like a human being, like nature intended, instead of being such an attention whore an she can feel a hidden, perverse rape fantasy come true. But when those women are finished with him, providing he are not finished with them first (whether or not they are replaceable) what does it amount to? What does it mean if he is in his thirties, watching life pass him by amid living with his mother or grandmother in a hideous town where people put bars on their doors and piss in their own backyard? Suppose the bastard does not even own a reliable means of transportation and he’s catching buses and taxis to get from point a to b? Suppose the women in his life eventually throw him under the bus after the party is over? Is the pussy worth it?

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