Matt Forney
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You’ve Got Bigger Problems Than the Game

problems

Like any online community of a sufficient size, the manosphere has its BSers. Keyboard players. Fakers. Frauds. They gather together on blogs and forums to dissect various types of openers, debate whether certain mundane, everyday actions are “alpha” or “beta,” and condemn any woman less attractive than Monica Bellucci as ugly.

For example, take this hypothetical pickup scenario I just pulled out of my ass:

You’re at a bar sipping on a wine cooler when you notice an HB9 chatting with her three fat friends. They’re talking about bouncing to another bar. You’ve had one too many wine coolers and your bladder feels like a water balloon about to burst. You can either go to the bathroom or open the HB9, not both.

So what do you do? How can you slay this pussy without pissing your pants in the process?

If you actually attempted to answer that question, you’re in the wrong part of the Internet, bucko. Get back to Something Awful so you and your goon buddies can argue over whether Luke Skywalker could kick Captain Kirk’s ass in a fistfight.

Now, game is real. I’m not debating whether it exists or its efficacy; you can see it around you if you leave the house and pay attention. Being “anti-game” makes as much sense as being anti-gravity.

But it’s far from the biggest thing most of you have to worry about.

The average guy may have poor game, but that’s a tiny thing compared to the clusterfuck that is the rest of his life. He has a boring, mind-numbing job. He has no hobbies aside from playing video games and downing whole cartons of mass market piss-water. He jerks off in front of his computer every night. He doesn’t read anything aside from blogs. He has a beer belly from years of eating junk food and avoiding the gym. His clothes don’t fit him properly.

And he sits and wonders why only the dregs of womankind even bother to look at him.

Fuck dude, even I wouldn’t want to talk to you. Is it any wonder why you’re not getting laid? You’re a waste of bone and bodily fluids. You’re a vacant receptacle with no purpose. The only reason we even consider you to be alive is because your heart hasn’t stopped beating.

You’re the living dead.

Yeah, if we stuffed you in a suit and gave you some routines to run, you might be able to bang overweight 6s more often. But that’d be like treating a gunshot wound with a Band-Aid. Wouldn’t it be more beneficial in the long haul to solve the underlying problems?

If you want to get laid, you have to be someone worth laying.

You have to get an interesting hobby, like skydiving or motorcycling. You have to start reading actual books. You have to get some muscle on your bones. You have to get some decent threads.

Then, and only then, once you’ve gotten your life in order, should you be worrying about the game.

Recently, Jordan posted on why he’s withdrawing from the game for the time being to focus on building up his body:

 So, in light of this, I’m going to officially call off going out to game for a while and focus on the one thing I want to improve severely: my body. I’ve gotten into a good habit of working out as often as I can: lifting, using the medicine ball, ab work outs, etc. Its shown results in my arms and back, but its not good enough. My going out lifestyle and my drunk self don’t aid in the results I want. The Geographer posted great advice today on how to get jacked and I’m going to follow it. I’m going to reach my goals.

That’s my philosophy, right there. Sure, I want to get laid and I try to get laid, but it’s not the focus of my life. I’d rather focus on building a cool lifestyle than try to patch up the bullet holes in my stomach with Band-Aids. I’ve got way bigger problems than the game right now, and unless I fix them, nothing else I do will matter.

Read Next: “Looks Don’t Matter”: How to Tell Keyboard Jockeys from the Real Thing