All posts by Roosh

200

On Monday the 200th copy of Bang was sold. The positive response has given me the encouragement to write a sequel in 10 years called “Advanced Bang.” I rarely buy books without browsing through them at the bookstore so it means a lot when someone buys my book sight mostly unseen. That’s trust! Here are two more reviews…

From Roissy:

So when I read Bang I already understood not only the concepts of pickup from meet to bedroom, but many of the specific openers, qualification tactics, and conversational routines, and have spent many nights out applying those lessons and improving my skills. But after reading it, I was surprised to find that Roosh has brought a welcome dimension to the study of game — elegant simplicity and clear-headedness, as well as some new tactics I was previously unaware of. This slim but powerfully condensed book lays out the foundations of game — from female psychology to the winning male attitude to the sequence of pickup from approach to sex — in a concise, detailed, and readily-accessible manner that can get any guy on the ground and running right away without spending weeks of time and thousands of dollars on a vast library of pickup material. The occasional flashes of droll humor also make it an entertaining read.

From CurledUp.com:

This book is exactly what it says it is: A dating guide for someone who only wants to shag chicks without commitment. (Thus the title, don’t let its simplicity confuse you like it did for me with the musical Rent.) Those of you who are looking to live this lifestyle and would like another viewpoint on how to do so, or else need a bit of help being the best player you can be, this book is for you.

Thanks to everyone who has bought it so far.

I Got the Giardia

I have parasites attached to the wall of my small intestine, sucking away my nutrients and causing unspeakable bathroom adventures. I saw a doctor and she prescribed me something to defeat the flagellated monsters that are dampening my already mediocre South American experience. The only side effect is urine that has a neon yellow appearance. It’s like I’m radioactive!

There are a couples ways to get giardia, but this is how I think I got it:

1. Some guy took a monster dump and wiped his ass. He did not wash his hands, which now contained fecal matter.
2. He cooked up a meal, poking and prodding said meal with his feces soaked paw.
3. He served that meal to me.
4. I ingested his feces.

What’s good about South America is that when something good happens, like you find an internet connection faster than dial-up or a clean toilet bowl not dirtied by someone with the same condition as you, it brings you that much more happiness. Still, I’m going to need a little more than being able to watch a YouTube video.

For more on South America, check out my South America travel guides.

Lima Peru Nightlife

I was only going to stay in Lima for a couple nights but the nightlife sucked me in and I ended up staying for a week.

Tuesday. There is a mall built into a beach cliff called LarcoMar that has several clubs, including Bartini, a house venue that is most similar to Spank back in D.C. The girls were unfriendly and no one danced until after 1AM, maybe because the DJ’s refused to spin any Ministry of Sound-like anthems. My buzz was killed due to gunfire outside the club. $3 cover includes a free beer. 1.5 vodka shots out of 5.

Wednesday. A $5 cover gets you into El Dragon with a free Pisco Sour. A much nicer crowd danced to popular house, rock, and some 80’s and 90’s, the best mix I heard in Lima. A bit of a sausage fest but the girls were cute and wanted to be talked to. I got a kick out of partying until 4:30AM on a Wednesday night. 3.5 vodka shots out of 5.

Thursday. Sargento Pimienta (Sargent Pepper) is a warehouse with speakers where all the young, very white Peruvians go to party. The old school music is the type that would clear most American dance floors (Celebrate, Getting Jiggy With It, etc), and there was a horrible one hour set by a wannabe Eminem rapper who has only mastered saying “Uh” and “Wooooh!” in the microphone. A breakdancer got on stage and shouted “Fuck Bush,” but gave props to Los Angeles. Cover is $5. 1.5 vodka shots out of 5.

The night ended at Eka, a lounge bar that serves more as a date venue than a pick-up spot. Downstairs is the “Factoria” where Death Speed Trance was being played at an insanely fast 148 beats per minute. The four people who were on the dancefloor looked like they were having seizures. I’m pretty confident the DJ killed small furry animals as a child. 0 methamphetamine hits out of 5.

Friday. Gotica is a mega-club in Larcomar, with an astronomical $16 cover (by Peruvian standards) that keeps out the gringo riff-raff who rather drink cheaply and talk sports in the hostel bar.

It’s not easy to work the club solo due to its impersonal size, but it had the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen in my life. Some were friendly, some weren’t, but it’s quite a feeling to be standing with your manly beer and looking down at this sea of fine exotic women. Believe me when I say I savored the moment, and I would have taken a picture for you with my second disposable camera had it not been stolen while I danced. An Israeli who introduced me to the club summed it up nicely: “It’s hard not to hook up with a girl there. The only problem is you’ll have a girl early but you’ll be thinking if you can get something hotter.” 5 vodka shots out of 5.

Saturday. Gotica.

Everyone has bad things to say about Lima, starting with the depressing fog that permanently blankets the city during winter, but it’s been the highlight of my trip so far.

Like Firecrackers

Last Tuesday night I went to Bartini, an unfortunate name for what is an okay house club in the very wealthy Miraflores area of Lima.

At around 2AM I was leaning against the bar near the front of the club, keeping my eye on a drunk bodybuilder who earlier fell on his ass and tried to blame me for it, when I heard pop pop. My body jumped and I turned to the front door—the sound came from right outside the club. No one seemed to care so I wrote it off as nothing serious but then five seconds later two burly bouncers braced themselves against the door. A third guy came up behind them and pulled out a gun with his right hand and cocked the barrel back with his left. The bouncers let him out and he disappeared. I was about 10 feet away.

There is no “Is this really happening?” hesitation when you see a gun. Right away I got down against the bar and a lot of other people did the same. I was scared but not pants urinating scared. There was a circle of people around me so I selfishly thought I’d be fine if gun shots came inside. Everyone was calm and quiet, and the DJ kept spinning. No one jumped out the windows.

After three minutes the coast seemed clear and I walked towards the back of the club. I stood there and watched as people resumed drinking, smoking, and laughing, like this happens all the time (it actually doesn’t in this area of Lima). I looked to the girl next to me and asked, “¿Que paso?”

She made the universal gun sign with her hand, grinned, and said, “Bong bong.” I left a few minutes later in case the shooter returned to finish the job.

New Blog

Jewcano opened up shop at The Cannon And The Cutlass.

Girl Vs Guy Travel

I talked to a girl who showed me a stack of napkins with notes written in Spanish by Ecuadorian men, mostly waiters. She couldn’t understand them so I translated. They were all along these lines:

It was nice to meet you. You are very pretty. I hope I can see you again.

[email protected]
Juan

My napkins have no words of affection, just email addresses, mostly of European men. Girls who travel don’t realize their experience is very different than a guy’s. Unless the girl is busted, which unfortunately happens, she is getting ten times more attention than me. I know some of that is bad attention, but you only see a smile on a gringa’s face when she’s being spun around on the salsa dancefloor. And disappointment on the native’s face when she doesn’t want to make out.

(Side note: girls who don’t get much love back in the States are treated like queens by South American man. It’s very common to see an American 5 walking arm-in-arm with a decent looking guy. Many of these girls end up staying for much longer than they had planned.)

When crossing Ecuador’s border into Peru, I was a little confused on where to get my Peru entry stamp. I walked towards an Ecuadorian border agent to ask him, but before I could open my mouth he shooed me down the road with a hand-sweep motion. When I returned with my stamp an American girl was having the same problem. This time the same guy waited for her to come to him, let her ask her question in bad Spanish, and then very politely talked to her, smiled, and pointed down the road. Multiple this by a dozen interactions a day and I imagine the overall experience would be quite different.

Expectedly, girls here refuse to admit that they are getting different treatment than me. (They remind me of the girls back home who think they will physically peak past 30.) Next time a girl asks me why I don’t think South Americans are “wonderful” and the nicest people in the world, I’m going to point to her vagina.

I Broke

I got a Facebook account. 😐

One Month Update

If you look at the counter at the bottom of this page, you’ll see I’ve been down here for over a month. Some thoughts:

1. The game is a little different. Height and light skin color plays big while style and dancing ability doesn’t, but things are not as linear and predictable as a pick-up stateside. It’s happened to every guy that he dances with a native for an hour or so, thinks he’s making progress, and then she thanks him for the dance and disappears. Cute girls are much more fearless and will approach you to grab your hand and dance.

2. A large percentage of girls staying in hostels are butch-like in appearance with short hair and boyish builds. The cuter ones have their boyfriend in tow. None of them pack clubbing clothes to look good at night—instead they wear trekking pants, hiking boots, and North Face fleece jackets.

3. The living-out-of-a-bag lifestyle is more glamorous when you think about it from home. After a couple weeks my instinct is to find a place of comfort with hot showers and wireless internet and stay still, but I’ve gotten used to the routine of long bus ride, taxi, disappointment, long bus ride, taxi, upset stomach, long bus ride, taxi, nothing to do, and so on.

4. I keep fucking up. I got my pocket picked going into a crowd, I dropped my digital camera, I lost a disposable camera with two dozen photos (including one of a male turtle raping a female turtle), I lost a credit card, and I ate a ground beef and hard-boiled egg empanada when my stomach was upset. That last mistake led to full-blown ass eruptions and a diet of bread and bananas for five days. It smelled like a homeless man died in my stomach.

5. A condom here is called a preservativo.

Even on days when things don’t turn out great, like when I spend most of it on the toilet and have to throw liquid shit coated toilet paper in a little wastebasket, or when I can’t sleep since the girl in the bed next to me has a cough that sounds like she is dying from tuberculosis, I am extremely grateful for being able to do this.

I Proposed

Her name is Gabrielle and I found her on Marry Our Daughter, which offers youngish girls for marriage. It was a little informal but I gave it a go, putting extra time and care into my central Asia-inspired proposal email.

Hello,

My name is Roosh. I will make fine husband for your daughter. I will give her lead operation on plow machine and feed her bread, tea, and when harvest is good, acceptable meat from animal.

We will have our own house in farm countryside of Frederick, MD. It is fine community with school for education, McDonalds, and next year our number one Starbucks will open. I would like to pay 10% extra premium so no other man get her. One very important: she must be virgin.

Roosh

I have not received a response so I guess the site a hoax or a pedophile sting operation by the FBI. If you clicked the link then you will be getting a knock on your cubicle siding in 15 minutes. I’m immune due to Peru’s complicated extradition process.

Postscript: It’s a hoax (thanks Brian).

I Am Very Courageous

Two emails about Bang

I was very impressed by how funny Bang was while still reading like a practical–even technical–pick up guide.

I especially liked your courage when speaking to the more shady parts of the game. The [getting inside her place] section featured one of your best lines: […] I also liked your STD argument: […] You could have copped out in the Double Your Dating “you can be a nice guy and still a player” way but instead you gave it to the reader straight.

I’ve gotten a couple positive comments about the deadpan joke on page 109. And…

Roosh, just wanted to let you know I got the book a couple of days ago. I’m currently reading it and I’m halfway through. I’m certainly no slouch when it comes to the ladies, but if I had come across a book like this back when I was in college…

A lot of the things in there took me many years to learn. I’m saving this one for my kid and handing it to him the first time he gets his heart broken.

In other news, tonight there is a happy hour. Based on the venue, looks like it will be nice and sloppy.

Fatality

There is a British girl who I keep running into (Lonely Planet = seeing the same people again and again and again). She’s very cute but I concluded early on that she is not serious about sex; she never has more than one drink, she always goes home early, she has low social intelligence, and she only leaves her hand on my crotch for two seconds.

I went to a disappointing ladies night at Cafe Eucalyptus last Wednesday night in Cuenca and of course she was there, with her two latest suitors. Salsa music was playing and one of the suitors, a 21-year-old German bearded fellow, asked her to dance. Denied. He was persistent and immediately tried once more. Denied again.

He then stands in the corner, alone, dancing with his arms out holding an imaginary partner, practicing his moves. Then he starts stretching his back, swinging left and right to get each vertebrae. It was hard to watch.

For one hour he analyzes, stews, and deconstructs about giving it one final attempt. Even though most guys would have gotten the hint a long time ago, you can see on his face he has come up with a blockbuster that is sure to work.

He comes up to her, grabs her hand, and says, “I just want to try something!” :laugh:

She shrieks “No!” then turns to me and says, “He’s creeping me out!” Denied three times.

It gets worse. You see, earlier in the night the German was getting on my case for being “quiet,” that something is “wrong.” I just didn’t want to talk to him. But because he annoyed me I decided to finish him off. He was a horse who broke his leg on the race track, and a ruthless killer was needed—one without mercy.

“You should give him a chance,” I told the British girl, like he’s a charity case in need of a lucky break.

“Well good job, you ruined his night,” I added, like his happiness is something she owns.

Go to sleep young man, it’s time for bed.

Luxury Car = Dry Panties

For a man there are two ways to approach getting laid: logic or emotion. With logic, men work on obtaining cars, money, clothes, or anything that is expensive. They focus on the shallower, more superficial things that they themselves use to rate women. For instance, no guy has turned down a hot girl because he didn’t like her sense of humor. Sometimes it works but usually it doesn’t because they are trying to attract women with items that a lot of other guys have.

Approaching the problem with emotion—jealousy, drama, unbridled rage—will do more to get a girl’s attention than Italian shoes. Even women don’t realize this. If you ask one what she likes in a man, she is ten times more likely to say nice shoes than “a guy who I see enjoying a conversation with a girl more attractive than myself.” But every time a girl I like does see me engaged in conversation with a beautiful girl, it is a certainty that she will be much more receptive to me afterwards. Now I’m not saying follow the girl you like to a club and talk to every cute girl but her, but it would be a better and cheaper strategy than buying a BMW.

When it comes to things like business or engineering, a man’s gut instinct is usually the correct one. But with women, it’s always wrong. Men need to develop a second instinct that hits a woman’s illogical and primitive buttons. A lucky few learned this somewhere along the line, leading to a lopsidedness where 20% of the guys are banging 80% of the girls. The others simply don’t care to learn.

Gym Game

A reader weighs in on girls at the gym:

The majority of the girls in the gym are only there because they are insecure and are looking for guys in the first place. (Of course there is the occasional athlete-female, but those are easy to spot and they have their own Gold’s Gym to go to in the first place.) Most of them are begging for guys to hit on them, isn’t that why women workout in the first place? To attract men?

Girls in a gym full of testosterone driven men are just asking for us to stick it in their butt. They know what they are getting themselves into. Men in the gym are like a pack of starved lions and the women are the buffet line of meat that we all fight over to get the best piece of prime-rib. Might as well hand it over to me on a silver platter…and then i will decide if i want to eat it, or, whether u should dispose of that shit and bring me some sufficient food.

:laugh:

Colorful metaphors + rage = player.