Not my words, the following is a copy and paste from a 3 part blog post from chateau heartiste. I compressed some parts of the posts so it would fit the text limit for submissions on reddit. I still made sure to keep all the important info.

Check out his blog here : http://heartiste.wordpress.com/

His writing style won't be for everyone, if you're not a fan of the way hew writes, I urge you to look past it and focus on the lessons.

I should also note that he's very redpill. Understand that there's an entire spectrum of game, and not everyone will hold the same beliefs and opinions as you. However, just because someone's views on game and relationships isn't parallel to yours, it does not make the material invalid. If you find yourself not a fan of the redpill views expressed in his writing, then try your best to look past it. As there are some very valuable lessons to be picked up from this post.

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Rule 1: Don't Get Defensive

Some might call this rule, “Try not to come off like a grammar nazi, or like Bryan Caplan on the verge of thumping his head with his fist after finding out he undercounted the paper clips.”

The object of this rule is simple: If a person (sometimes, yes, a cute girl!) is playing around with you, or even ribbing you with a whiff of malice, don’t take the sperg stand like a defendant swearing his humanness to a jury of his peers. The jury doesn’t care. They just want to be entertained. And logical refutation is not entertaining. Nor is butthurt indignation. Nor overwrought explanation. Nor cringing insecurity. Nor whiny baby boy whininess. Nor crestfallen defeat.

Well, that last one can be entertaining, but only to sadists.

I’ll give you an example of this Rule in action from my own life. I was at a [REDACTED] and did something goofy, the details of which I can’t recall but anyhow don’t matter much to the lesson being conveyed, when a colt-ily cute-ish girl announced with uncorked bravado to the assembled her opinion of my antic:

“Eww, that’s so creepy!”

Now, mind you, she said it with an obvious hint of humor, so the crowd wouldn’t get the idea she was being a bitch or anything. But even lubed with the laxative of facetiousness, this was the sort of blurted grillgrrl judgment that can sweep the leg of a lesser man who lacked experience in the ways of sex-simmered social politesse. Fortuitously, living My life as CH and master of all that He surveys, my reply was deceptively coy and disarming:

{raising eyebrows, curling lips downward, and slowly nodding like De Niro contemplating the infinite cosmos}:

“You bet! I’m hoping to reach level 99 creeper some day.”

Not the wittiest line I’ve ever uttered, but that’s not the point. You can say anything to defuse a caustic jab and still sound entertaining and likable, as long as you don’t sound defensive. She laughed, crowd chuckled warmly, mission accomplished, at least for that three second window. These three second missions never end.

How would the typical, clocks in his 40 hour work week, stays on the straight and narrow, supports the infrastructure of civilization, beta male react to that same girl rattling his world with a half-cocked accusation of creepiness?

I’ll tell you (because I’ve heard a million beta males stumble their way through similar scenarios). The typical beta would say:

“That’s not creepy.”

Or, “No, I was just trying to…”

Or, “No, I didn’t mean it that way…”

Or, {says nothing, smiles weakly and blushes}

You get the picture. Defensiveness is the calling card of the butthurt beta male. A girl could be drenching her panties thinking about your glowing member, but if you adopt the defensive posture and utter three predictable, ego-bruised inanities in a row, her vagina will retract like a turtle in the midday sun. If that doesn’t shut her down completely, the retreat of a disappointed crowd surely will. Works on male friends, too. Your buddies will buy you more drinks and invite you more places if you’re that cool cat who doesn’t take stuff personally and knows how to badinage like a boss.

Don’t get defensive. Once you have this rule lodged in your head, you’ll be surprised how smoothly fresh grease for conversational grist oils your gray matter gears. It’s a self-therapy ploy to push yourself to think along new vectors, and to glide along stronger, slicker neural paths. Lose the bad habits, and good habits have room to grow.

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Rule 2: Don't Force Conversation Topics

We’ve all seen this happen to some hapless over-logical male: The triumphant quasi-announcement of a scintillating conversation topic nursed in a split second judgment that the gathered will be amazed by his wit and wisdom, the forthright glee with which it is presented for studio consumption, the leaking of confident airs from his demeanor as he too slowly realizes no one is reciprocating his energy or spring-boarding off his brilliance, the stuttering follow-up as one or two congregants, usually women, ricochet unpredictably into new topical territory, the prison of silence that muffles him as he surrenders to the reality that the crowd has MOVED ON.

And then, the most awkward moment, the anti-climax he will regret for months if he is young and for an hour or two if he is older and giving less fucks about life’s sadistic pop quizzes. That moment, after the conversation has fully turned and spasms of fresh vigor have been injected by girlicues following their bouncing bubbly balls, when he throws himself, bellyflop style, onto the organic rhythm of the back and forth with a last-ditch effort to impose his previous stream of concreteness. And, naturally, the reddening splash turns to reddening hue as eyes of pity shot with capillaries of contempt answer his logical insistence with an ocular writ of cease and desist.

He is humbled, and his allies in male logic abandon him as the women take the lead to rescue a souring scene. As go the tingles, so go the tumescents.

If you get what you think is a winning conversational theme in your head, be prepared to abandon it at a moment’s notice. Like De Niro* might say about seduction, don’t get attached to a topic you aren’t willing to drop in ten seconds flat, if you feel the female heat around the corner.

(*Running ref gag.)

Let threads die. Don’t attempt to revive threads at a later time. Don’t beat a fun time over the head with your genius insight that the world is fated to endure. Don’t hammer home a message when the crowd has decided it’s time to talk about something else. If you can master the art of artfully dodging your own bull-headed self-loyalty, you can learn to appreciate the percolating jazziness of verbal foreplay. It’s a talent that comes second-nature to women, but which men — especially autist spectrum men — have to work at to achieve the same level of instinctive grasp.

If you feel that headstrong voice egging on your ego to drive home a point, don’t listen to it. Avoid its tempation. Choose strife. Accept that conversations and social pressures will be chaotic, and that from this bubbling froth of flirty banter that is outside of your narrow mental alleyways and that flourishes under both your simultaneous command and acquiescence, real desire can erupt, like a solar flare.

Women measure a man’s mate worth by many more variables than just his shoes or square jaw. They measure his wit, his grace under pressure, his adaptability. Can he steer discursive switchbacks with confidence? Can he quickly disown colloquially limp lows while claiming careening conversational highs as his own? These tells of a man’s alpha nature — and yes, they are the distinguishing hallmarks of the alpha male personality — are subtle enough to be missed by other men with eight-cylinder powered logical minds, but are magnified to outsized relevance by intuitive women with a million years of evolution to guide them toward the vessel of their orgasmically up-sucked überseed.

One trick I have learned that has helped me avoid the error of forcing conversation topics is to relinquish a flowering thought at the moment when the crowd wants to hear more of it. Better to err on the side of leaving a topic stranded close to a high note rather than beating it to death past its expiration note. You are not a stand-up comedian with a captive audience and a mic; you are a man in a group of people all more or less equally competing for air time. Use the floor wisely. Your wit should be a gift, not a chore.

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Rule 3: Don't Ask Questions When You Can Make Statements Instead

Rule #3 is the least firm and most frustrating of the three Rules of Social Savviness for social misfits, even as it is the easiest to follow (with some practiced self-awareness). Think of Rule #3 more as a goal to strive toward rather than an ironclad dictum.

One of the best things that I ever did to improve my texting was to delete all question marks, as the interrogative mood is indicative of the classic beta frame (even when used as a rhetorical device; your texts should be the written equivalent of the terse statements of a pilot wrestling with the controls of a wounded aircraft). It is at its core a submissive posture; someone else has information (power) and you implore them to share that power with you.

“Is this a trick question? I loved the spice girls”

versus:

“Trick question. I loved the spice girls”

The second is more powerful. The Alpha ALWAYS knows, even when he doesn’t.

Act as if you know, even when you don’t. Chicks dig overconfident men. Overconfidence is the heart of game.

So get in the practice of thinking before speaking. Make that split second adjustment that mentally switches your questions to statements. Avoid the question mark in any texts, chats or emails. If there is room to rephrase a question to a statement, do so. And as your tongue nimbly accommodates this improved, alpha, way of speaking, you will discover a new man emerging from the chrysalis of your beta shell. Fake it till you create it. And make no mistake, you CAN create a better man out of the man that is now you.