All posts by Roosh

The Beard Experiment

After my experience as Jesus, I thought it’d be a good idea to grow a long beard, since there is no good reason not to. I let my face grow for almost three months.

I’ve never in my life received so many complaints about my appearance. Even my family ragged on me, calling me Taliban, Ayatollah, and mullah. Every week my mom said, “Why would you want to make yourself ugly?” Among natives of this country, Jesus and Geico caveman guy were most popular. I got called Jesus about half-a-dozen times a week, mostly by strangers who thought they were too clever for their own good. Unabomber was common and I heard Rasputin once.

The fun part was the stares. People would gawk at me and break their neck to do double takes. Adults would tug on their friends and point at me. I was a rock star. This made going out at night easier because girls approached me more. They came for the beard and stayed for my personality. But those same girls would say, “Why would you want to make yourself ugly?” They found it impossible to comprehend why I wouldn’t look in a way to attract them best, since that’s all I should be living for. But overall the intimate attention I got from girls remained the same. I looked like a homeless bum but girls still wanted to fuck me.

In the end I had to end the experiment because I felt like I was wearing an itchy mask. When I shaved it off I had trouble recognizing the reflection staring back at me. So this is how other people see me. While I’m lucky to be blessed with the genetics to make a monster beard, I don’t think I’ll do it again.


The Golden Goose Is Dead

For the past two months I have been stealing wireless internet from my friendly neighbor. Along with my roommate, I have downloaded terabytes of illegal music, video, software and the dirtiest of porn, including ass-to-mouth and midget double anal. We have voluntarily throttled our download speeds so we don’t raise alarm or fry their router. But recently the free wifi has been silenced. Now all we get is some weak-ass one bar network that only works in the dining room.

I am writing this from Panera. They offer free internet (hot tea is $1.25 and refills are free), but no open ports for illegal downloading. What am I going to do once I get desensitized to the porn I already have? They close at 9PM which means when I go home I am forced to be productive instead of reading message boards until 3AM.

Next to me is a group of seven young men, led by a man my age. By his tonality and speech, I guessed he was with Amway trying to sell these guys into some sort of multi-level marketing scam. He was going on with simple anecdotes and wordy explanations to motivate and inspire. Just like with cold readers (“psychics”), the more vague you are, like this guy was, the higher chance you will hit everyone in the group. Specifics only exclude. Turns out it’s a bible study group.

I observed the participants of this group, aged 18-23, and determined they were all beta males. The most beta of the beta, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all virgins. They deferred to this group leader like he was their mentor, even though to me he came across as an amateur salesman.

He repeatedly said to these young men, “God has a special plan for each and every one of you.” Apparently his plan is for them to meet in a franchise bakery every week and follow orders from someone who puts stickers on a Mac laptop. If God really did have a plan for these young men, why does it matter if they went to the study group or not since the plan is already set and unchangeable? Wouldn’t meeting in bible study groups and church disrupt the plan that God has? Instead of fulfilling their destiny, these young men are mentally masturbating about how a plan exists. It’s kind of like motivational seminars: instead of bucking up and doing what you know you must do, you are spending thousands of dollars and a lot of time to discuss why it’s important you do it.

The real reason for this bible study group is to help commit these beta males to eventually contributing significant portions of their income to religious leaders who may or may not practice what they preach. I think they’d be better off telling their human religious leaders to fuck off and donate the 10% tithe directly to charities instead.

Still, Panera is better than the public library. The tables there are sticky and everyone is all up in MySpace. In the meantime I’m praying for the return of the golden goose. If God does exist, I know his plan is to provide me with fresh, DVD quality porn. When I switch to full screen mode, I don’t want to see degradation in quality.

In Case You Thought I Was Joking

…my Mom will be more than happy to do your Turkish coffee-cup fortune or analyze your dreams with a 20-year-old book she keeps in a Ziploc bag (to prevent further page disintegration).

How You Start The New Year

The Dream Book

Cloud Review

Sound system hurts ears
Middle Eastern men love it
Where is the exit?

Rating: 1/5

MapOfficial site

1 Dupont Circle, N.W.
Washington, DC 20036

Play Lounge Review

Sure, the girls are hot,
but guys are treated like scum
Staff has no respect

Rating: 2/5

MapOfficial site

1219 Connecticut Ave N.W.
Washington, DC 20036

R.I.P. DC Cookie

I’m disappointed, but not surprised.

Grocery Store Fraud

Have we ever been told a good reason why there are produce sprinklers at the grocery store? I’m not a farmer but I know that dead vegetables don’t need to be bathed in tap water to stay fresh. Judging by the red-orange mold growing in my bathtub, I would assume that extra moisture hastens spoilage.

The real reason is because all that water adds to the final weight at checkout. Notice how they only sprinkle the green leafy vegetables that can hold water in their crevices. You will never see them spraying tomatoes or oranges. My calculations show that this extra water pads the industry’s profit by millions of dollars a year, which is why I shake the shit out of my broccoli crowns before I bag it up.

DC Nightlife Reviews

I’ve started rewriting my old Sorso Club nightlife review list as haikus. I’ll drop one or two each weekend.

Newsletter no. 2 is going out this weekend.

February book update: :crazy: (screenshot)

Rubber Ducks


I used to play this carnival game as a kid. With a magnetic fishing pole I would try to catch one of dozens of rubber ducks moving in water around a circular track. Each duck had a special marker on the bottom to signify a prize, but otherwise they were identical, floating through this pre-determined track, bunched up together.

Are humans any different?

We also go in circles, with no real purpose, letting life’s current shape us instead of the other way around. The track is one week of time. Days stand out, but weeks never do. This week will be just like last week. Fifty-two weeks a year for you, and they will all be the same. The details may change but the way you live your life and the path you are on will never change. Tell me who you are today and what you believe and I’ll tell you what you will be doing ten years from now. Maybe a new car or a new house or a new lover or a new kid, but nothing the next person you see won’t experience. We are the ducks.

I wonder what it feels like to be a rubber duck getting plucked off the track, away from the safe but predictable current. It seems like it’d be scary, flying in the air like that, away from what you know, with little hint of what’s going to happen next. But I don’t know of a better way for a duck to live.

How You Start The New Year

My mother taught me that the way you spend New Year’s Eve says a lot about how that year will go. Even something as simple as standing up when the clock strikes midnight will do more to ensure a year of good fortune and success than sitting down. I used to think that she brought this odd belief from Turkey, but my roommate, a high-paid professional who is not Turkish, believes it too, along with other people I know who I generally respect.

It’d be awesome if a few hours could predict the subsequent 365 days. I would go all out and spend a few thousand dollars throwing a party where there would be cocaine for everyone. I’d make many new friends and I’d bang the hottest coke whore in town. I had time to think about this because I was bedridden at home this New Year’s Even coughing up mucus and blood. Since there is no TV in my house, I watched the countdown on my computer, unsure of its accuracy.

It doesn’t matter if my mother’s belief is really true or not; it just matters if she believes it to be true. If her New Year starts in a horrible way, I predict she will indeed have a bad year. Because of her belief she will pay close attention to the bad things that happen to her while ignoring or downplaying or quickly forgetting the good things.

The problem with beliefs which attempt to predict the future is that they constrict how you see the world. The filters we call senses are already limiting enough, but now you add this additional rule which gives up any notion of an objective reality. You also throw away the concept of free will, if you believe in that claptrap anyway, and end up living a life where a few small actions can accurately predict the major currents of your life. “Oh no! A dark colored feline animal existing in my visual field! I’m fucked!” If you are that type of person, my Mom will be more than happy to do your Turkish coffee-cup fortune or analyze your dreams with a 20-year-old book she keeps in a Ziploc bag (to prevent further page disintegration).

Here’s my belief: It’s best to start the New Year in a horrible way, with illness or grave misfortune. Because as long as you don’t die, it will only get better.

Why Men Shouldn’t Go On Coffee Dates

One reason I hate MySpace is because it makes it too easy for a girl to get a maximum amount of attention while putting in no effort. The distance between herself and you, a potential suitor, is so great that screening you out is her default move. One reason I don’t get email addresses is because it’s too easy for the girl to reply when she feels like it. She receives attention from guys and takes her time writing back even if she checks her email every 10 minutes (I guarantee you she does). One reason I don’t like coffee dates is because she doesn’t come to the date ready to perform or please. Instead, she wants to relax and let you make her feel warm and fuzzy inside over a non-alcoholic beverage.

A female blogger writes:

I LOVE coffee dates. They are totally casual and can be either long or short, depending on your shatter mode.

Exactly. Let me ask you this: have you ever first made out with someone on a coffee date? You haven’t — in fact, no one has. I don’t even see lovers making out in coffee shops. It just does not happen. When a girl wants to go on a coffee date, she is basically saying either she is not trying to hook up with you or does not want you to escalate your game. Safe and comfortable for her means late night masturbation for you. She gets to practice dating and feeling wanted on your clock.

If you don’t make out with a girl when you first meet her, you failed. If you don’t make out with her by the first date, you are a complete sucker. What are you waiting for? Be a man, get her in a bar, make her laugh over a couple drinks, and step up. If you are under 21, get a smoothie, go for a walk, sit on a bench in front of some pond with ducks, put your arm around her, and make it happen. If you are not making out with girls by the first date, you need to seriously work on your game. It doesn’t matter how old you are. If you think making out with girls by the first date is “too fast,” then you are a hopeless beta who probably doesn’t go on dates anyway.

Another Move

1. If you are reading this, you are on the new server.

2. I added a Top Commenters list at the bottom of the right column. Roissy is current king.

3. I added a contact form link under my email.

4. Now when you make a comment on any post, you have the option at the bottom of being emailed when a new comment comes up. Probably best on older topics or if you don’t visit all the time.

Email example:

I Bought A New Desk

For the past year I have been looking for a desk that serves my unique needs:

1. Multi-purpose functioning that uses innovative technology.
2. Saves valuable space in my child-sized townhouse bedroom.
3. Allows me to masturbate on my bed without squinting at the far-away porn action on my computer monitor.

My needs have been met with the Ergopod 500 Workstation, which I have just purchased.

Simulated photo of me in my new Ergopod

Please pray for me that the cloth strap doesn’t break and send my 19-inch CRT monitor crashing on my testicles.

- Via aboutcolonblank.