Here’s how I’d do it (as OJ Simpson purportedly said.)
Trigger warning for questionable humor, ahem, bad humor. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya, y’know reading this is 2 minutes and 14 seconds of your life you won’t get back….
I’d post flyers at internet cafe’s, technology companies and anywhere else I thought I could find lonely, gullible guys with more cash then social skills….
I’d wait til I had a few marks, err, customers and there was a Slutwalk in town….
Then I’d host my snake oil scam, err, bootcamp. Well, critics of the manosphere say that reason most of us are anonymous is because we’re ugly. We always protest and say that it’s because we don’t want to be fired from our jobs at the local Quickie Mart. But, yeah, in my case it is because I’m ugly.This would actually help–how? you ask, I’m getting there impatient one.
Before the bootcamp, I’d go on the Matt Forney/David Futrelle Manboob diet of 3 supersized meals at McDonalds and the 4rth at Taco Bell. I’d sell my mountainbike and stop lifting… I’d buy a shirt that was too small and made my hairy beer gut pop out. I’d leave the last three buttons of my 501’s undone. I’d follow uncle Roosh’s advice of bathing infrequently and not wearing deodorant…
On the first day of the bootcamp, I’d see that allot of the shy, insecure PUA wannabe’s would be disappointed at my slovenly appearance. A few would be dejected and walk out the door. I’d laugh and say, “The money is non refundable assh*les.” Since I’d been a frequent reader of Feministe and other man hating sites–My shaming language would be in tip top shape. I’d hurl insults and get at least half the guys to break down in tears. At the end, I’d take a stab at pretending to have empathy. I’d say, “yeah, I know I’m ugly but, y’know how I got into the triple digits with lays? Unlike uncle Roosh and Heartiste, it wasn’t with prostitutes and the occasional passed out drunk guy.” Drop voice down to whisper for artistic effect, “Or was it with passed out drunk guys and the occasional prostitute?” Wink at the audience. Then start screaming, “It was because of this magical thing called GAME. I know you nerds watched Star Wars, this is just like The Force and I’ll show you how to tap into the magic.”
The second day would be a field day to “sarge.” It would be at a clothing optional beach. I’d tell the wannabee PUA’s that this was a great place to sarge and that as a team unity thing, we’d all be wearing the same colored Speedos. I’d throw up a make shift canopy. As the gullible guys were disrobing, I’d drop the canopy and have a photographer snap them. Y’know shysters always have more then one racket going. I could threaten to send the pics to their co-workers and families unless they sent me a “settlement” to make the embarrassing pics go away. Then I’d tell them that we misplaced the Speedo’s and they’d have to sarge au naturelle. When some of them would protest, I’d say, “If you can sarge naked, you can sarge twice as hard clothed.” Many would quickly become disheartened with the fact that an American clothing optional beach is a sausage fest. I’d then tell them to stand around and wait for surfer girls. They could offer to carry the surf boards and wax them up. After a few, near tears, told me of their humiliation. I’d laugh and tel them they learned PUA law #1.24539011- “Don’t be a spineless, placating mangina.”
Before the start of the 3rd day, I’d tell the chumps that they would have to pay an extra $2000 for the final day that would make them true Pussy Slayers. A few might protest, but thank gawd for the pics from the previous day. I’d bust them out and say, you can do this the easy way as I walked them towards the ATM machine or we can do this the hard way….
When the extortion, uh, I mean payment was taken care of, I’d take the
scammee’s um, customers to the nearest Slutwalk. I’d tell them that there was this thing called kino, which means to touch. I’d tell them that here of all places kino would be welcomed and not seen as a personal violation. I’d tell them that the best way to not be seen as a subhuman Nice Guy ™ was to make their sexual intentions known right away. This means that they shouldn’t lightly touch someone’s arm and tell them to grab the ladies’ butts like a true gentleman. I’d then sit back like a sociopath and watch these hapless guys get punched in the face and called rapists. I’d laugh with glee as an Amanda Marcotte type pinned one of these guys to the ground and began pegging him. Surely a Clarisse Thorn type would deficate in his face as he cried “No.” Likely she would feel that enthusiastic consent had been achieved because he hadn’t protested with a safeword.
Good thing I don’t practice PUA I guess…