Lad Culture

For those of you who aren’t familiar with lad culture, take a quick look at this website.

Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

First observations? Nearly a quarter of a million likes on facebook. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t envy that kind of web presence, so well done to them in that respect. There is one small problem:

They are promoting a toxic set of beliefs.

I’m not gonna criticise them for what they normally get criticised for. I wholeheartedly support their right to make rape jokes and fat jokes and I’m glad that they are promoting masculinity over being a bitch. The problem I have is that, to be blunt, they have a pretty shitty definition of masculinity.

Broadly defined, masculinity is the combination of strength, courage, mastery and honour.

This definition is broad and abstract because it goes past the arguments over whether a good father or a master seducer is more manly – it’s chalk and cheese bro. But I digress, let’s see how the values uni-lad promotes measure up to this objective standard.

The Good

• Learning  game. (mastery)
• Competition, albeit mainly on FIFA. (mastery)
• Bros before hos. (honour)

The Bad

• Extreme binge drinking.
• Any hole is a goal.
• Idol worship of men with a higher social status than you.

I’m not one to criticise getting intoxicated, and having low standards is kinda subjective, but I can’t get my head around the last one.

I get the distinct impression that a large proportion of young men aren’t going out, getting smashed and hitting on girls because they want to, but because they want to impress the top dog in their group. It’s something every lad knows, but no lad will admit.

They also encourage lying.

From How to Get a Regular Shag

Get yourself back home. Clean your room. Hoover your room. Put posters of mean looking rugby players everywhere. Buy two rugby balls; put one on the pillow and one on your desk. Eighty percent of girls at university are attracted to the ‘rugby lad’. Today, you are one of them.

If you were to put that much effort into being worth fucking rather than seeming worth fucking, you’d get hit in the face by a low flying vagina every time you stepped out the door. (H/T Frost)

This leads to the crux of my problem with that site, and with lad culture in general:

The manosphere promotes becoming better in order to gain progress towards a goal. Lad(ism?) promotes pretending to be better in order to gain approval from your mates.

My message to lads everywhere is this: there is more to life than clubbing and FIFA. Read a book, chat up women during the day (the whole needing alcohol to talk to girls thing is ridiculous),  climb a mountain, write a blog, start a business. It doesn’t matter. But you and others like you are setting yourselves up for the prescribed life plan trodden by so many now divorced and unhappy men before you.

Normal kid at school -> uni partying hard and trying to shag lots of girls -> leave uni with a 2:2 and moderate alcohol dependency -> job -> dating -> wife -> kids -> more alcoholism -> divorce -> premature death.

You know why this happens? Because you seek approval. You didn’t stand out at school and reach your potential because you wanted to fit in with everyone else, now your every action is determined by what the lads will think and how many lad points downing that pint of piss, or having someone else’s shit rubbed over your face will win you (both of those happened to a rugby lad I know). As you get older you will live on the approval of you boss, your girlfriend, your wife and your kids. This is not masculinity, this is weakness. In particular a weakness that makes for a depressing and unfulfilling life.

There’s a lot of potential here, young men have realised that being a feminized little fag is wrong for the majority of them, but we need a better alternative than the current binge drinking, approval seeking culture we have now.

In summary – It’s good to promote masculinity, but you gotta be a man about it.

P.S. Stop promoting The fucking Game as a decent resource for getting laid. Neil Strauss doesn’t know shit, look into some Roosh, Heartiste, Alpha or Sleazy.

Dulst’s Journey to… Sigma?

Happy shame the beta month.

I’ve decided to join in on Mentu and Ashur’s fun by detailing my own journey of relative betatude, and how that compares to now. I don’t identify as an Alpha, so I’m going to talk about how I became what I call a Sigma instead.

This could be a cool tattoo.

Once upon a time, I was 13 years old. This was when I got my first proper girlfriend. We never had sex, although recently we caught up and I have now finally slept with her. She has actually read this blog and is coming to visit again this weekend.

Even at this tender age I was quite the narcissist, but as far as I knew there was a correct way to act around women. This was to supplicate and cuddle your way into their vaginas. My one saving grace was that I was persistent because I was horny as shit (high T levels + being 13 = lethal). Between my 13th birthday and the age of about 14 and a half, I had a string of typically teenage relationships: lots of fooling around but no sex, starting out feeling cool and being nice, ending up jealous and needy. I emphasise that at this age I acted that way because I thought I was supposed to – I was not acting through my own intentions. However, nearly 6 years later I found out that I had unknowingly “played girls off” against their friends. Pimp in the making? Probably not. Deez bitches be over analysing my shit.

Over time, the learned nice guy behaviours became internalised. I actually became nicer. At the age of 14 and a half, things really changed. I met a girl on a school trip to Italy (romantic init). I liked this girl a lot and fell pretty quickly. I was still a nice guy, but I had one saving grace – I still had strong personal boundaries. I think this came from my argumentative personality and getting my fair share of shit in school.

I was 14 (and a half) when we started going out. We were together for 3 years and 8 months.

I became a massive beta over this time. She was a headstrong “independent” girl who, although she was nice, spent a lot of time telling me how I should act and feel. The worst part was that I listened. I lost my virginity to that girl, so I felt like I was invested and should listen to her. She was also a year older than me so I thought she knew her shit.

Then she called a break, because I got too needy. I thought “fuck this I’m gonna chase other girls”. She didn’t like that, and we ended up back together after a week. Relationship continues as normal, but she’s now more jealous and I feel a bit more independent.

I was in 2 bands over this time. The second band was better so girls liked us more – this lead to more jealousy.

Fast forward to me being 17. She left for university and we decided to try and “make it work”. I don’t know if she cheated, but I can’t really blame her if she did. I got needy quickly. We broke up a second time, for a month. In this time I started smoking weed and became friends with Wolf, who is a textbook example of a natural Alpha. He had just dumped his ltgf because he got sick of her shit. What followed was this – he went on a fucking spree, I didn’t get laid at all.

So I got back with her AGAIN.

But she was now worried I’d “try to be” wolf. Trying to be someone is silly, but seeing a friend get laid easily is still pretty inspiring.

Then I started reading Roissy and Roosh. Shit went down.

Over a few months I came to dominate the relationship. Suddenly she was reacting to me and telling me she loved me all the time. Suddenly she was ringing me from uni to tell me she missed me, when it used to be the other way round. I was cool with her. When I turned 18 (UK drinking age for you americans), Wolf wished me happy birthday on facebook, adding “ladies, lock up your daughters, Dulst is out”. I thought it was hilarious, my girl got pretty upset.

The relationship continued and we went on holiday together, I really enjoyed this. It was a nice chill time we had in Turkey and I look back and smile – though I have no doubt that I enjoyed it because for the first time in my life I had hand in the relationship. After the holiday I went clubbing a lot and realised I wanted to get with other girls. Things went downhill from here. She realised and tried everything to keep me. Including shouting “fuck you, I could get with anyone here if I wanted!” in a club. I walked out on that and she chased.

Things slid downhill further, and I dumped her ass.

Then I went to Amsterdam. This is like August 2011, not the more recent trip. I may or may not have fucked a hooker, and I definitely had a one night stand with a slightly embarrassing girl. My friends laughed at me and mocked me, but I didn’t care – it confirmed that I didn’t need my ex to get laid. Between that ONS in mid August and going to uni at the end of September, I slept with two more girls, including a virgin. I also began fooling around with a girl I had known a long time. She was a virgin also, but not as up for sleeping with me.

I slept with two girls in my first week of uni, ending up with both as FWBs. One got a proper boyfriend after 3 weeks, I’m still sleeping with the other. Between then and now I slept with those two, the virgin I’d known a long time, a girl from my class, another ONS and the ex from when I was 13. Those aren’t Casanova numbers, but it suits me. My course load isn’t conducive to going out all the time (and I’m more responsible than this guy was).

Between Amsterdam #1 and going to uni, I learned the skills. Between starting uni and now I built the core. I’ve written a lot about sleeping with girls, but in terms of self improvement sex doesn’t mean much. I’m proud of it, but I’m more proud of the fact that at a relatively young age I changed in 4 fundamental ways.

1. I now have strong personal boundaries.
2. I like me for myself. I have real self esteem because I genuinely believe I’m good enough.
3. I don’t care what people think of me.
4. I don’t suppress my emotions, but I don’t let them control me either.

I predict that most of the journey to Alpha posts about to come out this month will, when distilled, be based on those four things. Now I’ve reached this point, sex is easy – and no longer important. It’s like food and water – you only think about it in times of lack. Whereas in September pussy used to be my sole focus, now my drive goes into uni, my band and my blog. My casual sexual relationships are a fun distraction – just like my other hobby, cooking.

Moral of the story? There isn’t one, but a bit of reflection is fun. The only problem is that the more I write the more I wonder if I’m slightly sociopathic.

Sex with a virgin

So I fucked a virgin

You read that right, a virgin. Ironically it was probably the second easiest lay of my life. Despite the lack of difficulty, the sense of conquest was far greater, just because I was her first. I hope I’ve set her template for what she expects from sex for a long time to come.

Wolf, Boho and I describe predatorial, natural alpha males as wolves. Drawing from the pack mentality and tendency towards animalistic sex (making love is for betas). Wolf’s alias is so because he came up with the idea, but that night I was in wolf mode.

The setting was an 18th birthday party that my band were asked to play at. It was in a community centre but it had a good vibe. The guests were up for a laugh and our songs were well received. A nice feeling when you only do 2 covers in an hour long set. While I was playing (I’m the bassist in case you were wondering), I was scouting the crowd of girls dancing for potential approaches. Thankfully in these situations you already have an opener: “Hi, what did you think of our set?”, and if the response is positive “here’s a free CD”. So after our set I packed my things, got my CDs and a fresh beer, and started approaching.

No blowouts, although one girl who I already knew kept trying and failing at cock-blocking me. I don’t like her at all so I just started being rude until she left me alone. Sometimes harshness is a necessity.

So I was talking to various girls or various levels of attractiveness, and I was thinking of moving in on one particularly attractive, particularly drunk girl, but it turned out she was 16. I know I’m only 18 but something about that is just too young, even though she’s of legal age. Her intoxication was also a bit off putting because she was far drunker than me. So I let the conversation die and upgraded. I started chatting to a tipsy 17 year old girl I gave a CD to earlier.

She was petite and slim with dyed red hair (actually red, not ginger). Her face was about an 7. We talked an flirted, lots of touching and all the other obvious things. Subtle digs, teasing, disqualification, using the band to make me seem like a big fucking deal. The wolf in me was hungry, and could smell his prey.

The music ended (typical community centre 18th), so we went outside and started making out. The first and only negative thing about this girl: bad kisser. She was too aggressive and opened her mouth far too wide, jamming her tongue in my mouth. Although it wasn’t great I calmed her down a and things improved a bit. In a way I was flattered by her keenness, she was only eager to impress.

I started to subtly suggest that she could come back to mine, which led to her asking how many people I’ve slept with. I let her have a few guesses and eventually she got it right: 4. “Wanna make it 5?” I teased.

N.B. Yeah 5 is a pitiful number. In August I came out of a 3 year 8 month relationship with my first girl. So the other 4 were in the space of about 6 weeks.

Then it was my turn to guess, I started with 2, then 4, then 6, she said i was going the wrong way so I tried 1. She blushed and shook her head with a coy smile. “Wait, is it zero?! You mean you’ve never…?”

Yep, she was a virgin.

At this moment I could have done the responsible thing. I could have been a gentleman and explained that she wouldn’t want her first time to be a one night stand, but by now my inner wolf was howling for his dinner. Challenge accepted.

“So you’re coming to mine yeah?” – Loaded question.

“Yeah”, she smiled at me and kissed me, we hopped in a cab to my house.

When we arrived my dad was still awake. After an awkward introduction we went to my room. I went to the toilet before though – never have sex if you need a piss. Just don’t.

We started making out and i went to take her tights down but she stopped me. “Yay, resistance” I thought to myself as she explained that she hadn’t “prepared” because she wasn’t expecting this. I put my hand in: the tiniest bit of stubble. I was expecting her to bitch and moan but as soon as she got my approval she took them straight off. I was excited because she was clearly ready for me to take charge. She wasn’t on for a blowjob without a flavoured condom, which to me confirmed she hadn’t had sex before because that’s a fucking stupid request, but I didn’t mind; I was more excited about the impending virginity theft. After a while I put a condom on,

I got some lube out, her being a virgin and all (I knew I’d need that lube one day!). I put it in, she winced. I could tell it hurt her before she said. It was ridiculously tight; like a tourniquet for your dick.

She eased into it eventually and things were going well. She got the hang of it and had a really nice arse to hold on to. I got close to finishing, so the switch that makes me consider other peoples feelings switched off.

In situations like this I am at my most ravenous. I went for it, and I don’t think the poor girl knew what hit her. I finished, which was great, and made better by her eagerness for instruction. As I was about to cum I told her to grind on me, and by god did she – while she was literally hanging off my body! That shit’s satisfying.

I had run out of condoms so we made out for a bit. She had work the next day which saved me the job of explaining the strange girl in our house to my little sister.

When she left she said “So am I never gonna see you again now?”

Awkward…

I said maybe, partly because straight answers limit your options and partly because I wanted to fuck her again. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in natural talent and enthusiasm.

I don’t feel bad about taking her virginity, because although a one night stand isn’t ideal, she enjoyed it, and so did I. She and I texted for a while afterwards and fucked once more a few days later. If I’ve injected a bit of fun into her life, I’ve done my job.

One of the joys of a player lifestyle is that you only have 3 things to offer girls: adventure, excitement and cock.

And they’d take those 3 over support, stability and consistency any day.