Post: #1

Gents,

Back in February 2010, female commenter Black Flag posted several extremely interesting comments on Roissy's blog. I often re-read them to understand some mistakes I made in my beta days. You may find them interesting as well. Here they are in chronological order:

February 18:

Quote:Looking strictly at the observable behavior, it does seem that way, doesn’t it. Women appear to be cruel, heartless, and at times even sadistic. But if you subscribe to the theory of Game, you should see you’re making a series of false assumptions about the motives that drive their romantic/sexual behavior.

You think that women base their actions on conscious decisions they make in a considered, cerebral way. They don’t. Not only do they not understand why they feel as they do (e.g. an escalating disgust for their beta boyfriends/husbands who cater to their “capricious whims”); not only are they incapable of changing those feelings; they are not–and this varies depending on the woman–entirely able to control the way they react to these feelings. It follows that women are not wholly responsible for the pain they cause: it’s, well, it’s Cruelty in the Third Degree.

You must be getting irritated right about now. But bear with me.

Game posits that the core of a woman’s sexual nature is innate, the result of thousands of years of evolutionary trial and error, and that it is this inner core that compels her sexual impulses, emotions and behaviors. She can’t understand why she feels as she does and does not like it, as these unaccountable feelings and emotions often compel her to make decisions she knows are not rational, not moral, and NOT in her considered best interests:

Do you suppose a woman married to a man who is gentle, who adores her, who provides for her and her children, and who rushes to indulge her every whim *wants* to feel disgust for him, to hurt him, to divorce him? Of course not. Particularly as she rarely has the opportunity to leave him for an Alpha. She just wants out; she can’t stand his sucking up any more. And rage about the divorce laws all you like, gentlemen; the fact is, for most women divorce is a big fat pay cut. On the other hand, do you imagine a woman is pleased to find herself helplessly attracted to a man who can be cruel and unfeeling, who acts the tyrant, who demands that she indulge his every whim, who refuses to be faithful to her even though she hasn’t the slightest desire to be unfaithful to him, and who she knows will leave her flat as soon as something better comes along?

She does not want any of these things, and yet, as practitioners of Game know, she does. And she does so against all reason and in spite of very intense countervailing social conditioning. The power of biological determinism to effect love and attraction is beyond astonishing. Some women are effected more than others, but some are almost powerless to resist it.

And you should know it. If you practice Game, you’ve seen it. And yet still, understanding all that, you imply womankind must be collectively reviled for acting on instincts hard-wired into their brains–simply because the resulting behavior often results in the cruel and unfair treatment of men. Naturally there is no recognition of the misery and guilt these very women live with as a consequence of the shameful conduct their maladaptive biological impulses drive them to. And certainly there is no recognition that it is the spineless, sackless, utterly risible behavior of their beta boyfriends that triggers the disaster in the first place.

Women don’t “get off” on emotionally devastating a man when they break up with him–they wouldn’t have chosen him in the first place if they never had any liking for him at all. And even when a woman reaches her breaking point she often intends to be as nice as possible in sending him packing. But for the most part, she fails. Because at that point, she despises him.

February 19:

Quote:Thank you very much. I want to be very careful not to over generalize here. I think all women share the same core nature (which is why women had a better shot at a happy marriage before Feminists decided to emasculate our men). But in many women this essential sexual self is deeply buried and exerts only the most mild effect on their emotions and behavior. Some women are actually quite tolerant of beta behavior and can be deeply happy with such a boyfriend/husband. They may experience the odd, barely perceptible twinge of irritation here and there when their beta overdoes it, but they simply write it off as part of the grumpy mood they’re in. I would say that most women feel it more strongly than that, but they are still perfectly capable of suppressing their negative reactions and not allowing such feelings to poison their love for their betas. Because what irritates them? The adoring, solicitous behavior of their men. That’s that sort of thing a woman is supposed to want, so how could such a thing possibly annoy? It could not. Must be PMS. These sorts of women don’t want Alphas (unless we’re talking about younger girls and the Alphas are hot–looks are paramount at that age). They sense they are dangerous and will never give them the settled, secure life they truly do desire. Alphas can run Game on them all day long–they may be tempted, but in the end they’ll take a pass.

It’s a continuum, and some women have better control over their emotions than others. That said, there are some women who are very powerfully affected by their core natures, and you’re exactly right: they do destroy many lives, including their own.

For the purpose of illustration, I will tell you the tale of Miss X, a very sad case indeed. For years–until quite recently–she believed there was something horribly wrong with her, some hideous flaw in her character that made her incapable of feeling sustained romantic love. She imagined that her heart was this tiny, black, desiccated thing, so twisted and perverse that she was cursed to eventually hate every man she loved.

As a girl she prided herself on her perfect record of fidelity. When one boy got too annoying and another caught her fancy, she wasted no time dumping Annoying and taking up with New Guy. She could always do it in a carefully composed letter, since all parties were cloistered at single-sex boarding schools. She thought herself both honorable and polite.

In college she was still honorable but found politeness impossible to maintain, as the boys there were so profoundly irritating. Then, twelve years ago her nancy boyfriend de jour introduced her to a friend of his, who was the hottest guy she’d ever seen up close. She moved in with Hottie two weeks later.

Hottie quickly sorted out her life, made her go to class, and weaned her off hard drugs. She was head over heals in love. The years passed and they settled into a pattern: He paid her bills so she wouldn’t have to bother with it. He forgave her every time she broke into her yearly hysterics and announced she’d got drunk and cheated on him. (It was always the same: awful, joyless sex with some random faceless guy she’d met at a party or some skanky bar. But he never asked for details). Cheating is a form of displaced drug addiction, he’d say, he would help her work through it. And he took her to Amsterdam every Spring, because it was her favorite place in the world.

Her last year in law school he proposed there. She wanted to strangle him and toss him in the Amstel; but she couldn’t, because she loved him, right? And he took such good care of her, how could she possibly refuse him? She jilted him two days before their wedding. She couldn’t bear the thought of trying to smother her contempt for him for even a single more day.

What a bitch! What the fuck was wrong with her? She figured she was either the most vile person in the world or the craziest. She immediately engaged a therapist to determine which. He still hasn’t figured it out. For the last five years the fraudulent buffoon’s been banging on about how she must have a daddy issue.

Hottie was treated abominably. He probably hates Miss X and he has every right. And she’s hated herself on his behalf for a very long time–a lot longer than he has. And if she could have forced herself to feel differently, taken some drug, had some operation, she damn well would have. But she couldn’t.

So yes, X is a good example of such a woman and she has caused a great deal of trouble. Dire indeed. But I don’t know what “external control” could have prevented such a catastrophe, unless X had stayed in boarding school until she was 30. I’m absolutely certain, however, her school would never have agreed to that.

February 19:

Quote:I don’t know. I’m still reflecting on it. But I’m pretty sure all he needed to do was show me the back of his hand the first time I cheated on him and I never would have left his side. I remember that the fourth or fifth time around I actually requested that he do so and he refused. It was nice of him.

February 21:

Quote:That’s a good question. I think it would have depended solely on him. In fact, the more I consider the situation in its entirety, the more blindingly obviously it becomes. I’m such a primitive little thing. If the knowledge weren’t so liberating I’d be absolutely mortified.

You see, it’s the cheating that’s always puzzled me the most. It was so out of character. I’d always considered loyalty to be my best virtue–prided myself on it in fact. So why make the sacrifices necessary to be faithful to every trivial boyfriend I ever had and then repeatedly betray the only one I ever really loved? And such an odd sort of cheating it was. I can’t even even claim the excuse of pleasure, for there was none. And what sort of cheater rushes home to immediately report herself? Isn’t that sort of thing supposed to be done covertly–sneaking about and constructing an elaborate tissue of lies to evade detection?

I’ve spent vast sums and countless hours trying to unravel my tortuous logic in the matter. It’s quite amusing really. I should’ve gone to a vet instead. I dare say he could have cleared the matter up in about five minutes:

I found my mate to be insufficiently dominant, and it was eating away at my feelings for him. So to revive my flagging love I need to provoke him into a substantial display of dominance. I’d like to think I employed somewhat more subtle tactics before I decided to go straight for his throat, but there it is. I challenged him in the most aggressive way I possibly could. He needed to meet it with teeth and claws, instead he showed me belly.

Because neither of us understood what it was really about (displaced drug addiction, what rot), the problem could not be solved. Had I simply told him I required much, much rougher handling in order to be happy with him I don’t doubt he would have set aside his distaste for that sort of thing and managed it.

February 23:

Quote:Oh dear, that’s rather ironic. Because I did give him a cave–as a condition of my moving in with him. His place had a big master bedroom and a smaller bedroom. Previous experience with men led me to suspect that for any sort of successful shack-up I would need a grotto of my own. Someplace I could retreat to gather my wits and suppress any feelings of annoyance that might come geysering up unexpectedly. I didn’t want him to ever sense he got on my nerves occasionally. I’d only known him for two weeks at that point, but I no matter how in love I was at the time, it was only prudent to assume history would eventually repeat itself, and I wanted everything to workout with us.

He was furious, of course, because the grotto was the master bedroom–where our bed was. I suppose he had visions of himself sleeping on the couch at night. Naturally I would never permit that. He was only ever expelled during the day, and most assuredly never on the cusp of any sort of romantic interlude. It would be impossible to find him annoying at such a time–glorious man that he was.

But he did like to hang out in there: polishing his guns, fussing with paperwork, and doing all his MBA stuff. So I guess we both had our “fortress from the annoyance of the moment.”

But this: “whoever next of that type that you have a relationship with.” Never. Never ever ever. I can easily deal with living my life never having another LTR. It’s enough for me just to know that under the right circumstances I truly am capably of falling in love long term–of feeling romantic love untainted by any trace of contempt or hatred. Because the way he looked at me when I gave him that ring back, I don’t want to describe it. He asked me why, and my glibness chose that moment to desert me. Lacking any other option, I told him the truth: “I don’t love you anymore, I’m so sorry.” He said, and I can quote him verbatim because I’ll remember it till the day I die, “A person who can’t love isn’t a human being and might as well be dead.”

I actually would rather be dead than hear that again. And I have a feeling that the fellow who could “rein me in” must be the rarest of men. So I don’t have the slightest expectation of ever meeting him. But that’s something I can absolutely live with. The other? No way.

Post: #2

Great post!! A good resume of it would be a quote from an old pal of David DeAngelo named Rick H and it goes like this: No good deeds goes unpunished!!

Post: #3

Wow.

TL;DR on the nature of women:

Quote:I’ve spent vast sums and countless hours trying to unravel my tortuous logic in the matter. It’s quite amusing really. I should’ve gone to a vet instead.

Quote:“A person who can’t love isn’t a human being and might as well be dead.”

Post: #4

... i thought this would be about the punk band!

Post: #5

This is an exceptional post. Women are first and foremost victims of their biological nature. We would do well to remember this. It's also very enlightening to know what is expected of us through red pill thinking. Dominance, assertiveness, leadership.

It's very helpful to paint women as victims of their own biological imperative, I call it a prime belief. Actions that stem from this prime belief, the necessity of man to lead and show a woman what is right and what is wrong, what is tolerable and intolerable can be the most empowering facet of thought for a man. As has been said by men much smarter than I, thought influences actions, action determines habit, habits make a life.

This is a very healthy post.

Post: #6

One other comment on Roissy's blog that is an all-time favorite of mine is the following comment, by Lupo Le Boucher, also from February 2010:

Quote:Women do not have some logical calculator in their heads which says, “ew, Betas.” It’s entirely hard wired emotional reaction. Since women privilege emotional noise over rational thought, it’s all about their “intuitions,” and it bothers them knowing people can easily game their chicky psychic powers, just like the shoe salesman does. The way it plays out in their heads, “creepy guys” with game can get down their pants (in man language, “betas”), and it would screw up their “authentic” feelings of wub. IRL, when they meet someone good at game, it doesn’t matter if they know it is Roissy himself; if he makes their hoo-ha wet, it must be genuine!

Post: #7

Great find, she write anything more?

Post: #8

(04-24-2014 04:55 PM)WestIndianArchie Wrote:  Great find, she write anything more?

Apparently she has. Or someone using her pseudonym has.

Google site:http://heartiste.wordpress.com "Black Flag"

Here are a few more of her comments.

February 17, 2010:

Quote:You should bear in mind that women make these Alpha/Beta assessments on an almost entirely subconscious level, and as such the sifting process is continuous and very fine. It is certainly possible for a man to maintain dominance while evincing flawless manners. If you can carry it off the effect is devastating. Do you suppose Alphas born to wealthy families and raised in that milieu affect the speech and manners of wife-beating blue collar men when they set themselves to seduce?

February 17, 2010:

Quote:Impressive, xsplat. You know what you’re about. It’s actually quite disconcerting that a man should have a greater understanding of the female mind than 99% of women ever will.

Many of the rest here seem to be stuck on the notion that women are heartless bitches that both crave and deserve abuse and misery. Game, properly executed, should result in a loyal, loving woman.

My personal feeling is that many woman can *only* find happiness with a dominating, dictatorial male. Cruel to be kind. Yes.

The comment xsplat wrote was the following:

Quote:And here you have just explained exactly why you’ve got to be cruel to be kind. You’ve got to downlevel your woman, keep her feet on the ground, keep her guessing, keep her off balance.

It’s for her own good.

As soon as she gets to feeling she deserves good treatment just for being her, that’s when things get skewed. It’s all about what have you done for me LATELY. Every day she’s got to earn it fresh.

She’ll appreciate that you make her feel gratitude. She’ll appreciate it that she’s not dating someone who lets her get fat and slovenly and moody and unfaithful. She wants a master.

Or move on.

Post: #9

I know there seems to be some animosity between the Roosh set and Roissy commenter YaReally but every man should read what YaReally writes. Literally everything he says is fucking gold.

http://yareallyarchive.com/

Post: #10

Here's another exceptional comment by Black Flag:

Quote:I wonder that a man as experienced as Mayer could miss the mark so widely. Does he really think a good fucking and an *omelet* is the key to ruining a woman for all other men? Alas, take away the omelet and it seems this fallacy persists in the “seduction community” as well, which is a crime against pleasure and a terrible tragedy. Pick-up game plays on a woman’s most primitive animal instincts. And if your all about “closing,” and putting points on the board, it’s an excellent strategy. But if you aspire to wizardry, to spell-casting and enchantment, you should understand that spells are not cast in a day or a week, and appealing to her hindbrain is only the beginning. A spell is cast on the mind; it grows in the imagination. An enchantment is a complex manipulation that requires wit, subtlety, perception, and most of all, patience. The biggest mistake a man can make is rushing his fences.

And unlike in pick-up, a woman can be perfectly aware you’re weaving a spell, fully cognizant she’s being manipulated, and relish the entire experience with intense pleasure. In this day and age, who gets the chance to taste magic? Who holds the power to weave a spell on a woman that will never really leave her, to make an affair the experience of a lifetime, rather than one more drearily predictable round of desire, followed by paltry satisfaction (as quickly as the man can possibly manage it, rush, rush), followed by a jaded sort of boredom, etc. Surely everyone has noticed that anticipation can be as much a part of pleasure as satisfaction–when you’re confident you will get what you want. (I imagine if you are crippled by insecurity this is not the case, but practiced seducers should be past this). The longer you draw it out, the slower you remove her veils, the more powerful the ultimate spell, the more shattering the ultimate pleasure.

In my case the affair wasn’t consummated for many, many months: I was very young indeed and still innocent. It was surreal, like something out of the movies, or a kind of waking dream. Most of the seduction was accomplished by letter (we were shut up in different schools), and because of the distance (familiarity does breed contempt), I was free to project onto him every romantic fantasy I ever had. He never let me be entirely confident of his feelings, so in the end I was eating out of his hand.

It’s not really a game, you know, it’s not about beating the clock and scoring goals; it’s a dance–filled with wonder, excitement, and a breathless sort of anticipation of the culmination of desire. But one clumsy maneuver, one crude attempt to rush rather than savor the mounting tension, step on her toes even one time, and the spell is broken forever. Because though she may succumb, you make yourself just like ever man she’s ever known, not a creature of mystery spun out of her darkest fantasies and the purest black magic.

I still have his letters, the only ones I’ve ever kept from anyone. For the longest time I dreamed about him every couple of months, then once a year or so. Even after all this time I dream of him occasionally, and whenever I do, I try as hard as I can not to wake. But there is no sadness, there never has been, not really, only a distant fondness and a sense of gratitude for teaching me sin, enchanting me, and giving me the most, unforgettable, most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever known.

Post: #11

I never understood why women don't do this more. This was a barf of hamster drool but reading it was a mindfuck of a read I enjoyed. Women would never want to read this stuff on themselves, but to a man, I'm always fascinated when the raw wounds of the hamster are on full display.

But I see it. I hear it. Plus as a a former pandering beta myself I have experienced it. The vocal tones of hate and contempt only spew out of a woman when she is mouthing off her putty noodle back man. She doesn't have the balls to say shit to his face but will squirm and lip him off to her friends the first chance she can. I can't even explain it but you can hear the hate in the tone of the voice.

A woman would prefer her man clocks her one her jaw then gets on his knees and beg her for apology... even if he is in the wrong. Its completely fucked up but its true and no woman will admit it. This is why I have started to refuse to apologize to women anymore for anything. They don't care. You can ditch them, hit them, fuck their friends, take their money, Crash their cars, whatever, as long as you don't pander/apologize for your actions they will always respect you more for it even if you did fuck up.

My female friends if they annoy me I will simply just leave the bar and go party some place else solo and not tell them. They blow up my phone angry that I ditched.. I don't reply. The next day they apologize to me...

Broad I banged the other week. I was annoyed she brought her roommate out with us but I didn't care. Both had the "look" at a moment I wasn't sure whom to pounce on. My girl was acting shady briefly and was chatting up some other dude. I suspected she was just a night-rider just looking for some dark meat so I proceeded to grab her Chilean roommates ass and drag her to dance floor while she started to grind on my junk. My broad returns and we kinda just both look at each other.. I just shrug, and grab at them both like nothing happened. She didn't care, ditched the room mate and went back to gaming her, fucked her later.

My school administrator is a dorky young broad, she is sorta cute so I hit on her when I need shit from her. I make her do illegal shit for me like remove people out of classes and put me in if its full and all the time and never say thank you for it. I give zero fucks.

Women just want men to take what they want from them. A man taking his fair on all avenues share will provide the surplus of spoils she can maintain herself on (shelter, security, comfort,) and she is happy in that setting 99.1% of the time. When dudes start wanting to give, give, give, give, women start getting cranky and bitchy and the tingles start.

You would think that in a perfect world a woman telling a dude to buck the fuck up should be enough for him to pull his balls back up. But I get it, we the top of the food chain shouldn't be told what to do from women. Its like a 8 year old trying to tell their father what to do and how to drive.. you kinda just give them that look and tell them to shut it.

In the end what kinda of concrete walls encase the female mind - silos of a million echos all deafening in intensity and competing with each other. A woman's mind sounds like a non-stop migraine.

Prison sounds better then being a female. Fuck sakes.

Post: #12

Black Flag on falling in love:

Quote:Yes, love. It’s little wonder so much art in every culture is devoted to it. Nothing else is like it. No pleasure or sensation can compare.

Pleasure is a vast realm, and from the sweet brightness to the bloody darkness the intrepid explorer is handsomely rewarded for her efforts. But love? When it strikes it’s as if all pleasure collapses into a single landscape, beautiful, like a garden, and you and the most extraordinary person in the world are invited to play in it together for as long as you like.

The paths to pleasure are many and varied, but there is no path to love. You have to be transported, swept up with another person. It cannot be contrived or controlled.

And how easily most people fall in love. My shoulder has been wet with countless tears over the years from friends crying their eyes out over a broken heart. Such pain. It hurts even to listen. And again and again she will curse her treacherous heart and swear that she “never wants to go through this again.” But she does. Because her pain and tears are a measure of the value of what she has lost–the one who held the keys to the garden, the one who made her feel love. It is for lost love that she grieves, not a lost lover.

And if she again finds a man with keys to the garden, she will not hesitate. Ever. She will laugh and take his hand, and run and run, spinning in circles until they both fall down together in that wildly beautiful place; and she will know that these moments are worth any price she’ll have to pay.

It is said that Eden was lost to Adam and Eve when they ate the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It’s a poignant story. And I think that there is a certain kind of dark knowledge and depth of experience that can put Eden beyond our grasp for a time. But it is likely not eternal banishment. A thing that has happened once can happen again. And if it does, we should not be afraid or timid or anxious of the future. We should fling ourselves into the moment with all the passion that is in us. We should fill our minds and hearts and senses with the joy, the delight, the wonder of it all. Because it is wonderful. And to have lost it forever, well, that is too cruel a punishment to accept.

Post: #13

Black Flag on pedestalization:

Quote:Women don’t want to *be* on the pedestal, Tyrone. They hate it there. But no, men cannot understand that and must be forever chaining them up on one and using love to keep them from escaping. They use it and use it until it’s all used up, and then it’s all the woman’s fault because she is “heartless.” Never in all his hurt does a man pause to consider what he has ruined.

Post: #14

It's mind boggling how fucked up women are.

They really are fucking insane.

Post: #15

My takeaway from this is that women are insane, but God gave man the cure for said insanity: a much stronger backhand. And women crave it.

Unfortunately, men have outlawed this cure and made it hard for ourselves.

Post: #16

I was really down on marriage, but at least had the smallest fantasy of a good LTR one day soon.

This just murdered that.

Post: #17

(04-24-2014 03:39 PM)bodmon Wrote:  ... i thought this would be about the punk band!

Henry Rollins had some good insights on women. It's already buried in the forum somewhere if anyone cares to search for awhile.

Post: #18

From I got from these comments:

1) To keep a woman loyal, you need to display perfectly dominant alpha tendencies. If you give in just the slightest, she's lost forever.

2) Women are slaves to their emotions.

3) Don't pedestalise.

I'm pretty sure all of the regular posters on RVF knew these things already. But yes, it confirms that women are absolutely insane.

Post: #19

(04-24-2014 11:37 PM)Biologist Wrote:  From I got from these comments:

1) To keep a woman loyal, you need to display perfectly dominant alpha tendencies. If you give in just the slightest, she's lost forever.

2) Women are slaves to their emotions.

3) Don't pedestalise.

I'm pretty sure all of the regular posters on RVF knew these things already. But yes, it confirms that women are absolutely insane.

For these GI Janes, knowing is just 1% of the battle.

Acting on it, is 99%.

WIA

Post: #20

What does Henry Rollins think about all this?

.

Post: #21

(04-24-2014 03:39 PM)bodmon Wrote:  ... i thought this would be about the punk band!

That was my first thought too.


Back on topic...
It's hard to have an "even" or "equal" relationship (friends, family, the ladies, etc). In every case, someone "wears the pants". The funny thing is, deep down, most everyone searches for equality in their relationships. Nobody wants to be the clear dominant force all of the time. They would rather be surrounded by equals. However, whenever we do meet someone who is more dominant than ourselves, we become submissive. Our submissiveness is nice at first but eventually becomes an annoyance. This is because that person would rather associate with equal people.

This applies to all areas of life.

People only experience some odd feeling described as "in love" when they are the submissive partner. So next time one of your dude friends is "in love" with a woman, just understand that relationship won't last. A man is able to love, but that is a conscious decision. Being "in love" is basically an irrational idolization of someone.

Post: #22

Black Flag has some more comments on disciplining women.

March 23, 2010:

Quote:Taunts, nasty insults, and withholding sex are female behaviors. If she escalates the situation further she’s issuing a deliberate challenge to your dominance. A power play. If you’re “loving the competition,” the proper response is to take her home and discipline her in a way that can only be done in private. Do NOT sulk like a schoolboy then flounce off like a woman.

If you are Alpha and relish the fight, OWN IT! Pull it off and it’s not the relationship that will be on the rocks, what will rock is the wanton abandon with which she will offer herself to you after she’s been properly chastised. Then you will know what true power feels like, because you will have it.

March 23, 2010:

Quote:You can’t continue it. Being Alpha is about power: who has it, and who doesn’t. If you can’t handle the situation described, you don’t. She does.

She won’t be meeting you again for casual sex no matter how much of a champion fucker you may be. She wants a predator, not fleeing prey.

March 27, 2010:

Quote:I think I’m fairly self-aware. I’m a woman sick to death of managing men. I wish for the day when someone might be able to manage me.

You, on the other hand, seem terribly confused. But, just this once, I will try to help. Then I’m done.

Do you know why you always go for the attainable girl? Do you know why your heart beats so very fast when you approach a beautiful woman whose eyes are cold and whose lips are touched with just a hint of cruelty? You know what will happen, you know you don’t have the slightest chance, you know that no amount of game you can muster will work, but you go to her anyway. Knowing. Knowing what she’s going to do to you.

Your sort are always sniffing me out. It’s infuriating because you’re impossible to get rid of by conventional means. Because you’re never happier than when you are writhing in agony under the spiked heel of a woman’s scorn. *That* is why you snap at my heels trying to provoke me. And *that* is what keeps me from tearing your throat out. Because while I may have a talent for this game I have no taste for it, and I will not be manipulated into playing.

Do you doubt me? Prove me wrong. Stop reading me; stop thinking about me; stop writing about me; and NEVER address me again. After all, you are “not terribly interested.” So it should not be hard. Do that, and I may develop the tiniest grain of respect for you. Fail, and know yourself for the pathetic, groveling, mongrel of a dog you are.

Post: #23

"love" is just a power play.

No surprise psychopaths do it well.

Post: #24

I thought this thread was going to be about black flag the band.

Post: #25

What I have learned from Black Flag's comments so far is that what women want and need is the following: