Gentlemen, I think more of us struggle with this then we’d like to realize. You know, opening up 10 different internet tabs, maybe with a bunch of TRP posts among other things. I am guilty of, and I’m sure many of us are, of constantly reading and reading TRP and other self improvement stuff without actually getting off the computer and taking action with what you’re learning. This is called procrastination, and it’s why I, at 24, am still not where I want to be SMV wise. I’m sure a lot of you can relate.

Hell, I’m writing this article when I should be making a new youtube video for my channel, or doing something else to improve myself. But it’s Sunday, I’m on Adderall, have the energy to do this and think it’s an important post to make before I start diving into my other self improvement for the day.

I probably have more knowledge than most people walking down the street about SMV and TRP theory, what women respond to, yet still don’t approach, or go out and use what I have learned like I could be doing. I have facebook invites to parties and other events but I always end up staying in and reading more self improvement stuff. It’s great to be constantly learning, but take it from me, if you aren’t putting this stuff to the test, it’s only fantasy. Like my Grandpa said, “Practice makes perfect”.

It’s kind of like wealthy people who can afford to get plastic surgery, hair transplants, limb lengthening, etc, but are never completely satisfied. This reeks of insecurity. The thing is, you are never going to be perfect. Nobody is. The most you can do is keep improving yourself. Our haters constantly criticize us of being fat, undersexed neck-beards who are all bark and no bite. Prove them wrong by actually doing something with the information given here.

I’m not being hypocritical when I say this. Because the moment I am done with this article, I’m going to get to work on my business endeavors. You should too.

After following advice here and going clothes shopping, developing a new style, and looking in the mirror after trying on just one new outfit, I literally felt my SMV raise in experience points as if I was leveling up like a Pokemon or an RPG character or something. Whereas yesterday I was wearing ratty clothes and not paying any mind to color matching, today I am in clothes that actually match and are in style. Instead of wearing a size too big I went smaller and instantly my lifting and sprinting shows through.

I am not who I was yesterday, and if you are improving yourself every day in some small way, you are a different person than the day before. If you sucked with women yesterday or the day before, that doesn’t fucking matter. Know why? Because that person is dead. 24 is not who I was at 16. I don’t care if you got rejected or didn’t approach or whatever yesterday or whenever. Nobody remembers except you. Ever failure is an opportunity to learn from and get better from. Now I’m not 30 yet. I’m 24. But I think I get why men age like fine wine and get better with age. In your 30’s as a man, you’ve learned from 30 years of life so you’re confidence should naturally be high and women should come easy for you (both figuratively and literally.) Same can be said for men in their 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s. They’ve all learned from the past decade.

However, it is best to actually try and improve every day rather than putting it off to the next decade. Imagine what life will be like once you get your looks, money, status and game in check. You’ll be sitting pretty. This is why I think older people are often seemingly happy and look pleasant. They’ve learned so much they have all the confidence they need. Every one of us can get this feeling of accomplishment if we put the work in as soon as possible.

Lots of guys neglect even simple things that can already put you in the top 20 percent as far as good habits go. How many of you actually groom your eyebrows? I only just recently started and I look much better without the bushy caterpillars I grow. How many of you wear clothes that fit? Thats important for aesthetics. How many of you moisturize you face? Thats something I only recently started but it will help with aging. How many of you have nice shoes? Thats the first thing women notice I’ve heard. Why do you think women take forever in the bathroom, and most men in and out? Women instinctively know they have to look good to attract men and to feel better about themselves. Well, the same applies to men. If you know you look good, then you will feel better about yourself, and so will the “fairer” sex (haha).

How you dress is only one example. That was my personal area which needed improvement. Yours might be hairstyle. Might be financial. Might be game. (I need to improve on each and every one of these myself.). The point is that you shouldn’t be using the left hemisphere of you brain so much. I learned this in college. The left hemisphere is based on memories and all your mistakes. The left hemisphere of the brain is the culprit that causes insecurity and low self esteem. However, the right hemisphere of the brain focuses more on the “right now” (right hemisphere – right now). We should start using our right hemisphere more and stop beating ourselves up because our high school senior prom sucked, or whatever. Give yourself some credit. I have lots of regrets, but unless time travel gets discovered, theres no point in obsessing over it. It’s over. Who you are today is different than who you were yesterday, and who you are tomorrow will be different than who you are today. Remember that, for each day brings you another 24 hours to become the man you want to be.

Around my senior year is when I experienced a surge in popularity due to doing Red Pill stuff without knowing it, and ultimately being oblivious to my potential at being the Chad I was so jealous of. I smoked weed for the first time with a couple drama kid friends (I was a drama kid.) I went to a couple parties by really begging a theater friend for the location.

1. The first party was a bit rough as that one girl (HB9) who called me autistic at school before, was at the party and she told me to go upstairs and get naked. I went upstairs and opened a bedroom door and saw a Chad I knew from school banging a HB7.5. I turned back in silent envy and a sigh, and began to go back downstairs as other people were huddled around the bedroom joking around and shouting ”Super dick!”. The HB9 downstairs immediately said she was joking and laughed with her attractive friends. I’m sure there was some good in this party, I did have friends I was the one friend in the group that nobody liked. I drank the ass of one blonde bimbo’s beer. So theres something.

2. The second party was a month or so out from that one and it was better. I drank more, tried to be more social, and didn’t get insulted by any girls. A HB9 (I’d consider at that age, now she’s more like a 7) slapped my ass and said something about me having a sexy ass. I smiled and continued my way past her, as she seemed to already be sitting with a guy and I remember her being with a tall Chad all the time. So immediately found reasons for her not to sleep with me (something I don’t do now that I have Red Pill knowledge). I sat on a couch and flirted with a mildly attractive biracial HB8 who talked up to me as I was sitting, anxiety running through my head. We talked for a bit and she talked about how she liked basketball players. Uh oh. I told her I wrestled and did track. Eventually this conversation wore down and she went on her way to flirt with other guys. You know, I think if I would have had more Red Pill balls back then at 17, I might have got to hook up. I knew it was normal to hook up at the end of each house party, because my drama friend told me “thats just what you do” or something along those lines. My problem was not enough game, or confidence to try. I actually still have a picture of me on that couch to this day, on Facebook. It was a pretty poplar picture back in the day and even a HB 8.5 in my drama class told me she was all over me that night and I was oblivious to it.

3. The next party was when I really got my 15 minutes of fame. My birthday falls on new years day so I decided to throw a “Sweet 18” birthday house party on a Wednesday night (2009) a couple days before new years 2010. I made the event public on facebook. It was a dumb move, but I was 17. You’re supposed to be stupid at that age. What happened was my original theater friends showed up- 3 guys, and 3 girls- (the girls had began to put me in the “cool” zone more recently probably due to my fashion somehow getting more in tune with what was hip at the time- skinny jeans and plaid. We had also been in theater class 3 years together at this point so we sort of all formed a weird bond, even if I was the black sheep of the group.) Anyways, we went downstairs into the basement as my foster dad was upstairs- yeah, you can see whats about to happen. We put on the game rockband on the big projector we had and started playing. Then more people started coming in groups and I admitted to my friends I had made it an open house party, not just a get together. They were sort of shocked and told me I shouldn’t have done that. I was just stubborn at the time because I saw them as hypocrites…they went to houseparties all the time so why not me, AmericanHistoryAFBB? Why shouldn’t I do the normal thing and throw a houseparty? Eventually, the basement was packed. There were not just people from my school, there were people from other schools in the area there too. People were playing beer pong, smoking weed, and my ipod was blaring music on the stereo. I had just gotten that ipod from my Grandma as a birthday present with my name engraved on it.

It started getting overwhelming, my foster brothers started getting concerned, and when I went upstairs briefly my foster dad demanded that I kick everyone out or the police will be be called. I went downstairs trying to conger up in my mind a solution, and to my surprise the music was no longer playing. I look on the ipod dock to discover my ipod had been stolen. I was now upset enough to make an announcement that the party is getting broken up, my ipod was stolen, and someones going to call the police. Eventually, everyone left and my main 6 friends were the last ones to leave, and wished me a happy birthday. A couple people offered to help get my ipod back. Well I never got the ipod back, but I was more popular than before and my friends tolerated me a lot more.

4. The last party was after we had moved out of our original house. It was empty and I called up my friend to see if we could get a party going. Eventually it was a go. The beer pong sucked, as we didn’t have a table. We had a wooden plank thingy and it was the ghetto set up for a party ever, as the house’s furniture had been cleared out. The house was in the purgatory stage of being passed on to new renters. I took advantage of the opportunity. Again, more 15 minutes of fame. A blonde HB9 introduced herself to me, tried to qualify herself to me. I was too beta at the time to realize the alpha potential I had. Anyways, long story short, this one was pretty anticlimactic. I left with one of my foster brothers at the time to pick up something and got a text from my theater buddy saying don’t come back, the neighbors called the cops and broke up the party.

What was the point of all this? To tell you all a huge chunk of regrets I have come from being too plugged in to take advantage of the opportunities I had at my disposal to be Chad. Learn from your mistakes. Stay unplugged. Cheers.

Lessons Learned: Learn from your mistakes. When you have pussy delivered to you on a silver platter, don’t throw it away. I’ve now gotten laid numerous times just by having get togethers at my place and friends inviting friends and friends of friends over, some of which are attractive women. I take advantage of being unplugged now.

Ah, the neg. Negs are one of the most infamous, misunderstood, but effective, parts of the game. They’re also, unfortunately, why the Red Pill and seduction community have a reputation for being full of manipulative douchebags: guys going around insulting women and lowering their self-esteem, hoping it’ll get them to drop their panties faster than she’d drop a heavy bowling ball.

Detractors like to take the word “neg”, and imagine it as the worst possible thing to expose a woman to. Negging gets so much shit, it might as well be the vocal equivalent to rape itself. When the plugged in community think neg, they imagine something so terribly out of place with how a neg would actually be used in the real world by smart, charming men, it’s laughable. This is what they see, in their minds:

ATTRACTIVE MAN NECKBEARD-DOUCHEBRO HYBRID: Hey, bitch! Your shoes suck! Wanna fuck?

As hyperbolic as that is, this kind of image rings true for the blue pill minded, plugged in folk of modern society. That a neg is simply this cringe worthy, insulting comment with no depth; no meaning. Simply negative, and something that of course wouldn’t work to get any guy laid unless the woman had no standards.

But the truth is, a neg is none of those things. This conception relies on a misunderstanding of what a neg is. A neg isn’t an insult. A neg, rather, is merely the kind of comment that someone who was interested in her wouldn’t make, based on the ever so rampant, women are wonderful effect.

For example, take the classic, “Nice nails, are they real?” A typical Beta/AFC (Average Frustrated Chump) would never do this. He would be so afraid of offending her (and thus losing his chance to sleep with her) that he would only offer the vague compliment. Same with, “Those are great boots! You’re the third girl I’ve seen wearing them tonight!”

Guys screw up by delivering those classic negs as zingers, but a neg doesn’t work if it feels like you’re trying to stroke your ego by one upping her. Instead, “are they real?” is delivered as if you genuinely like her nails, and the boot compliment is delivered in the vein of appreciating how fashionable the girl is. The secret is honesty.

Negs don’t even have to be “negative” – what they’re really doing is negating your own interest. For example, another classic: “You and I would not get along, we’re too alike!” You’re not saying anything bad about her – merely that you’re not interested in dating her.

Another possibility along these lines is, “I wish you were brunette. I’m taking a break from blondes for a while.” There is no conceivable way in which this is an insult, but it does the job of demonstrating your lack of interest. These are “disqualifiers” sure, but they are also negs.

The purpose of your neg is to break the frame of you being just another guy who’s hitting on her, to get around her bitch shield. You are demonstrating that you have not put her on a pedestal just because she’s an attractive woman.

This is very important: Even negs like these should be reserved for “9s and 10s” – highly attractive women. Model-looking women are constantly besieged with unwanted attention from men, and thus have strong bitch shields.

The reality is that most other women – even most other very attractive women – are constantly being made to feel inadequate about their appearance. Not only, therefore, are these women not standing on pedestals which they need to be knocked off of before you can talk to them, but in fact most of the time they’ll respond much more positively towards the flattery inherent in your attention. It’s nice to be the subject of attention from an attractive member of the opposite sex – don’t make things more complicated than they need to be.

I hope this clears up the misconception about negs once and for all. Send this to the next SJW who claims TRP teaches men to be ultra assholes. Clearly, that’s not what we’re about. Merry fucking Christmas assholes. Drink some egg neg.