So, now that our own Uncle Vasilya has troubled to explain to the class how not to be a disgusting loser despite having loads of money and power (go read), the next step is to understand how people get that way.
It certainly looks like a puzzler, when you think about. A premium class whore costs about $500 an hour. Two at once cost $1000. Double that, hell, multiply it tenfold, and anyone who's a major player in Hollywood can afford as much of that action as he wants.
So, even if you're ugly, even if you have no game, even if you look like Jabba the fucking Hutt, you still have two smoking hot pros at once, anytime you want, who will do whatever you want, right away, and fuck right the hell off afterwards.
That sounds like a pretty good deal even to those of you who can pull at will, doesn't it?
So why, oh why, do men with that much money still act like thirsty losers?
Mindset. Neediness. Ego.
Make no mistake, most or all of these girls (and probably boys as well) weren't raped in the strictest sense of the word. They held their noses and sucked Weinstein's greasy cock because they knew the money shot was made of Hollywood stardom, and pretty much anyone you see in film or television or hear on the radio is a degenerate whore, or they wouldn't be there in the first place.
But they didn't want to suck that cock. So why wouldn't this asshole at least pay someone whose job it was? Who would suck it harder and suck it better and suck it with a lot more enthusiasm out of sheer professionalism if nothing else?
Mindset. Neediness. Ego.
Harvey Weinstein creeped on starlets rather than paying whores, because if he paid a whore, he would have had to admit to himself that his cock was being sucked for money instead of the thrill of it.
That's right, little Ol' Harv didn't do all this to get sex with hot chicks... he did it to feel like a winner. Deep down, he knows he is an obese undisciplined slob, since he owns a mirror and isn't stupid. Harvey Weinstein ultimately thought of pussy as a yardstick that measured his worth. If he could get enough pussy, he must be a winner at life, right? Because that's what life is all about, right? Trying to climb back into the same sort of hole you crawled out of?
Pussy isn't a yardstick. Pussy isn't a milestone. Pussy isn't an achievement.
Pussy is a commodity. Like potatoes. If you're hungry, you want a potato. If you're horny, you want pussy. You get as much as you want, of the kind you want, with the variety you want, then you fucking stop until the itch comes back.
The meaning of life will never be found inside a vagina. Self-respect will never be found inside a vagina. A sense of purpose and identity will never be found inside a vagina. Happiness will never be found inside a vagina. The only things you will find there are temporary pleasure, and temporary release from your sexual appetites.
Which means that if you don't want to end up like our little friend Harv, you can't get your self-image from how often vapid twentysomethings (whose major interests in life include cute shoes) spread their legs for you. Harvey's plan didn't work, because he just kept having to do it. No matter how many greedy, vapid little teenage sluts licked his sweaty balls then went home to take six showers and cry themselves to sleep, he had to keep doing it, because it didn't help for long.
So what's your mission? What is it that gives meaning to your life? It can be pretty much anything you think is important.
But if you say "popping bottles and fucking models", then have a long hard think. Because pussy is a commodity, like potatoes. Not the measuring stick of greatness, or the source of happiness. Anyone can get women's approval, because women are a herd of sheep. It didn't help Harvey feel better, and it won't help you.
And he is not the only man brought low by overvaluing pussy.
Remember Tiger Woods groveling to some bitch when models were lining up to fuck him? Then getting on TV and apologizing for being the victim of domestic abuse? Remember Shane Mosley's ex wife taking his title belts in court? Bitch can't punch her way out of a paper bag, and she's got four championship belts. Paul McCartney had to write a check for fifty million dollar to some bitch with one leg. How many hot teenagers would have crawled across broken glass for a shot at fucking Paul McCartney for free?
Pussy is something you get sometimes because you like pussy. Pussy is not an achievement.
Go do something you can be proud of.