Dear Ladies

A recent blog post I added just to stir up the women that send me hate mail. Enjoy.

Dear Ladies:

The Game is not called that because the act of meeting and dating women is to be treated like a childish activity. Nor is the origin of the title meant to imply that it breeds “Playas” who seek to deceive. Simply put, it means that such a process should be fun, amusing, and equally entertaining for all of those involved.

In no way is it a sure thing every student of this will go out and become a manwhore, just like it’s no guarantee every new car owner will run over a pedestrian.

Intentions are the responsibility of each individual.

Your ex who cheated was not innocent only to be tainted by some book or website. No, no, no……..testosterone flowed through his veins just like all the other mammals on Earth and therefore, he conformed to that temptation.

The majority of guys in the PUA Community, who learn these so-called techniques, are shy, introverted, self-doubting creatures that probably couldn’t hurt a fly. They are the silent ones who hide on the outskirts of the nightclub and look for companionship at the bottom of the bottle. They are the ones you defeated and divorced in court. They’re the nice guys who you left for that trailer trash drug-addict or unemployed underwear model. They’re the ones who offered to buy you a drink, only for you to exploit and get drinks for your entire posse…including your boyfriend. For hundreds of reasons, they don’t know how to talk to you – the women. I know this because that guy used to be me, and each time I meet a newbie….it’s nostalgic.

This blog, like countless others which came before it and countless more that will follow, is meant to help them grow a sack. To redeem their faith in the opposite sex and more importantly, themselves. To dodge common fuck-ups. And to not just realize but experience their true potential.

The male species is associated with courage, confidence, dominance, leadership, strength and masculinity. While it’s optional for guys to want to pet a puppy or watch Sex And The City reruns, all of those stereotypical characteristics should be part of a guy’s programming.

Fuck those metrosexual shemales in their skinny jeans. To hell with glitter-covered vampires. And for the sake of all that is holy please rid us of Justin Bieber already!!!

The instructors of this community are like football coaches – they help men strategize so their approach is unique and unpredictable. Classes are called bootcamps for a reason – one must deconstruct their skewed perspectives in order to rebuild from the ground up.

If women truly wanted to destroy the PUA Community, they would unanimously agree to throw themselves at all of the socially inept men, to warmly reply to cheesy pick-up lines, to recognize the sex appeal in beer-bellies and video games, to laugh at farts and drool at cars, to provide a 1-hour full-body deep tissue massage each time their man takes out the garbage or gets the mail, to protest Valentines Day as being a scam against consumers, to proudly admit that dogs are and always will be more loyal and helpful pets than cats, to attend Comic-Con with delight, to permanently do away with questions like “What are you thinking?”, to always compliment their man’s muscles (no matter how small) when he lifts something for her, to save any kind of shopping or decorating for their girlfriends, to view sex on the first date as classy, to run (not walk) to the nearest plastic surgeon the minute those tits start to sag, to put men with E.D. or premature ejaculation issues on a pedestal, to save some of the breast milk for “leisure” behind closed doors, to take kegel, yoga and pole-dancing classes weekly, to go commando in church, to make pornstar noises in bed, to allow at least one manage a trois with that hot female friend and not ask for two dudes in return, to give blowjobs during the Superbowl and hardcore crime-scene sex during your period, to yell “TOUCHDOWN!!!” each time he brings her to orgasm, and to swallow…all of it. But this heaven is fictional and you ladies fucking know it.

Hence the need for this stuff. Guys need to work a little in order to taste the sweet satisfaction you’re kind enough to wax and pamper and wrap in a cute little thong.

I’ll end it with this point: We all know I wouldn’t receive such wonderful hate-mail from you if pickup didn’t provide men with such effective methods.

-The Jester