The problem is that American culture is being exported at such a rapid pace that it’s following me like a shadow. I’m watching in horror as Brazil gets swallowed up by American values, the populace getting ever fatter. In Krakow I was shocked at how much bigger the girls were compared to other Polish cities, the only difference being that there was a McDonald’s or KFC on every block. I now understand that I can’t run away from this problem. It must be destroyed at the source.

If I was a god, and could change only one thing about women that would make most men happier, I would wave my magic wand and shave a billion pounds off the female populace. While taming her masculinity is high up the list, only if she’s thin will you experience boners that have 80% power or more. You’ll be able to gather up enough effort to get a lay out of her, a little morsel of happiness. But if she’s fat and unsightly, it really doesn’t matter how cool she is. What must be annihilated before anything else is the culture of obesity, the biggest threat to a modern man’s happiness.

I’m happy to announce that I’ve declared jihad on fat American women. Under my Muslim name Muhammad V, I’ve started a group blog called Fat Girl Jihad to solve this grotesque problem. Other “Muslims” have joined me on this jihad, including a Muslim-Irish American.

My goal with the site is to make it more acceptable to shame, bully, and humiliate fat women into thinness. All other solutions have failed, so it’s up to us to make fat women too ashamed to leave the house with all their extra blubber and folds. Let them self-segregate into their fattie clubs and their Plenty Of Fat dating sites. Let them go to Walmart and buy paint bucket containers of ice cream. And then let them go home and eat that ice cream, alone. This jihad will not end until public spaces are filled with thin women whose egos are normal thanks to not being surrounded by fatties all the time. We cannot stop until the country is filled with women who we can lift with our own musculature.

I know you’re thinking that it’s futile, that we can’t stop the tsunami of American-style capitalism and accompanying morbid obesity, but even if that’s true I’m not going to give up without a fight. American men, with all their faults, are not like uber-beta Scandinavian men who are still waving the white flag as feminists take over and fuck their countries in the ass with rubber dildos. American women may very well get their cake in the end, but it is our duty to make it as unpleasant for them to eat it as we possibly can. “Are you sure you should be eating that?”

If we can make America a better place for men, then I believe we’ll make the world a better place, no matter where we choose to go. Hopefully in short time it will be completely acceptable to make fun of fat women, not just on the internet but face-to-face as well. Together we can change the women, one pound at a time.

Fat Girl Jihad Twitter: https://twitter.com/fatgirljihad
RSS Feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/fatgirljihad

Full credit goes to forum member Raliv for coming up with the name to Fat Girl Jihad. If you want to contribute to this jihad, contact me.

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A woman’s desire for men to “man up” is inversely correlated to the number of dating options she has.

The more men she has in the pipeline, the less likely she’ll care if a guy mans up or not. Do you think a hot 21 year old co-ed, who is getting more attention than she can handle, who has guys desperately trying to wife her up, really notices that men in Western society are withdrawing from the marriage game? Things couldn’t be more peachy in her world because of the nonstop attention party she’s enjoying.

But all parties come to an end. The young girl will make the decision to pass on many suitors to perpetually live the Sex and the City lifestyle. When she turns 30 the wrinkles around her eyes are no longer easy to hide with Covergirl, and guys suddenly become more lazy in trying to get her out on a date. They are not contacting her after she puts out like they were before, even though she made them wait three full dates before opening her legs instead of three hours. They’re not so eager to introduce her to friends. The attention she gets on OK Cupid is good for only a temporary confidence boost since 99% of the guys messaging her are lower quality than what she could get in the past. Something is off, but since it definitely isn’t her, since she has done absolutely no wrong in her life and made no poor decisions, what must have happened in the previous six years is that men became boys. There is no other logical explanation.

She has fond memories of being 23 and wanted by every guy without having to do any work on her part. But even though she’s now more cultured, more traveled, more intelligent, more polished, more cuntish (in a way that female authors argue is attractive), none of that is hooking them like they did before. She remains oblivious to the fact that age and beauty matters. She sincerely believes that suddenly men have lost interest in being men. The sad truth is they have simply lost interest in her. She decided not to get on the ship when it was boarding, and now it has sailed away, never to return.

This is what manning up really means: for you to accept that she was a party slut in her early 20s while in her physical prime. Manning up means to forget her past, her mistakes, and the opportunities she passed on. Manning up means to commit to a “strong” woman who has read a lot of books and dined in many restaurants that got positive reviews on Yelp. Manning up means chasing older women who have been pumped and dumped dozens of times. Manning up means decreasing your sexual opportunities by not learning game and not traveling to countries where you can get better women. Manning up means marrying a spinster who has shown no signs she would be a good mother. Manning up means committing the rest of your life to an entitled woman who will let herself go and care only about her career accomplishments, not her appearance, and definitely not your happiness.

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Woman: “Do you want to get married?”

Me: “I’m not ready to get married, but I am ready to hold on—at least temporarily—to the good girls I meet. When I’m older I think I want to be with one great woman and occasionally cheat on the side to keep things fresh. This is how they do it in South America. The guy provides for the family while the wife turns a blind eye. I know you think that’s unacceptable, but I believe being able to cheat, without openly disrespecting my wife, is a way to ensure a marriage’s long-term success.”

Woman: “That’s what my grandfather did to my grandmother. She actually knew the girls he was sponsoring, but she didn’t have any options. This is why it’s better these days. Women have options.”

Me: “What do you mean by options?”

Woman: “I don’t have to be enslaved by my husband.”

Me: “So instead of being enslaved by your husband, a man who is not perfect but provides for you and loves you, you want to be enslaved by the corporation you work for? You want to depend on a company that can fire you at will, that values profits above everything else, and that would commemorate your death with a three-line email mentioning how you were a pleasant and obedient worker? How important can your job—excuse me—your career really be if they can find your replacement in the time it takes to post an ad on Craigslist? It sounds like you’re trading loyalty of the most important man in your life for a faceless entity that has little stake in your happiness as a woman. I rather depend on my spouse for bread and shelter than a board of directors who identifies me as an expendable entry on an accounting spreadsheet instead of a human being with wants and dreams.”

Woman: “But you would want your wife to stay at home and do nothing with her life?”

Me: “How long does it take to cook three healthy meals and keep the home clean? Not more than four hours. If she is awake for 16 hours a day, and spends four hours of quality time with me, that means she has eight hours to do whatever she wants, at least until the kids start rolling in. She can pursue her hobbies and passions, go to the gym, read books, and enjoy her leisure time. As long as it doesn’t come at the expense of maintaining the home, and she does her best to please me, she is free to do what she wants.”

Woman: “But I want to accomplish something. I don’t want to be just a housewife.”

Me: “Pushing papers in an office is accomplishing something? Let’s be real, no woman is going to win a Nobel Prize with her work as a human resource associate, middle manager, or government bureaucrat. If you owned your own business or ran a charity that fed starving kids, I’d agree that you were accomplishing something, but spending all your days in meetings, dealing with dumb office politics, and being a standard-issue wage slave sounds a lot less fulfilling than being able to pursue your interests while satisfying a man who takes good care of you.”

Woman: “But if I don’t have a job and my husband has an affair, I’ll be helpless. I want to have a backup plan in case he neglects me.”

Me: “So you’re going to marry someone with the expectation of failure? If you already have divorce in the back of your head before you walk down the aisle then I guarantee it won’t work. It’s having the need for options and a way out that ensures the marriage will fail. It’s only when both parties are unconditionally committed to the marriage that it has a chance of success. You don’t think the man has stake in the marriage when he knows that his wife’s survival solely depends on him? You have to have made a horrible decision to marry a man who is willing to put you on the street. In that case it’s as much your mistake as it is his failure as a husband. It’s having too many options, too many outs, that has made marriage a joke that it is today. Either you depend on each other for everything or do what everyone else does and form a business partnership that can be severed with two lawyers over afternoon coffee. It takes serious commitment and sacrifice to make it work, something that people don’t do as long as they have their call-this-law-firm-in-case-of-emergency Plan B.’”

Woman: “You want to force your wife to stay home?”

Me: “I don’t know any woman who would rather put up with rush hour traffic and a job that doesn’t move humanity forward than stay home and raise a good family. You’re telling me you rather work than be provided for and not have to worry about money? There are billions of women in the world right now who would think you’re insane for preferring to work in a padded cubicle box for forty hours a week. Unfortunately, you’ve been brainwashed to think that it’s a better idea to make shareholders rich through your labor than to dedicate yourself to family. Consider that this whole full employment movement for women is less than 100 hundred years old, a blink of the eye in the hundreds of thousands of years of human history. It’s one of the greatest tragedies committed to women of the world, and it will not be reversed.”

Woman: “You’re going to provide for a woman so that she doesn’t have to work? You can afford that?”

Me: “I will only get married if I’m able to provide for her and two future kids with solely my income. This is becoming impossible in declining societies like America and Britain, but it can be done in South America and Eastern Europe, which works out fine for me since I prefer those women anyway. They still have what it takes to be a good wife and mother.”

Woman: “I just don’t want to be bored at home.”

Me (smiling): “Don’t worry, I’ll find you some nice hobbies. Maybe you can start your own side business. In America, a lot of women get burned out with their soulless careers and become bakers or sell arts and crafts on the internet.”

Sadly, female empowerment is nothing more than a form of disempowerment. It forces women to dedicate their lives to capital, not husbands, gradually destroying society in the process. Men’s rights guys and game guys are nothing but symptoms of the disease, manifestations of a dying body.

Soon after the above conversation, she gave me a real compliment without a hint of sarcasm, the first time she had done so. She held me tighter and sweetly asked me if I wanted to see her again. While Western corruption has made women like her absolutely despise provider men, deep down they want a strong man who can take care of them and make them forget about being mere little machines in the creation of wealth for others. Thankfully, there are still women in the world who will completely and unreservedly dedicate their lives to men instead of their little office jobs.

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“It’s feminism that allows you to sleep with a lot of women. Without it your game wouldn’t work. You should thank feminism instead of bashing it, because you are benefiting from it.”

This is a lie that I actually used to believe. The truth is that feminism does not allow you to sleep with a lot of women, something I discovered during my six months in Poland.

Poland is a country that has been untouched by feminism. The movement completely passed over it, along with neighboring countries that were part of the Soviet bloc. But is getting laid harder here? Nope, it’s even easier. How can this be explained?

Game, the sum of tools meant to increase a man’s sexual worth, and not feminism, opens up those legs. In Poland I have a system to screen out all Polish girls that either sympathize with feminism or share even the smallest character trait with their feminist counterparts in America. I’ve terminated any interaction with a girl who is even 5% feminist, and yet the lays come fast and furious, with more than half of my bangs resulting from one-night stands. Yes, I’m taking girls home the same night in a “conservative” Catholic country that has no feminist harps screeching on television and where nun sightings are a weekly occurrence. By having the right game, I create opportunities that would supposedly be impossible to achieve without glorious feminism.

You can argue that the Polish girls I got with are sluts, or that I’m using my hairiness to get them, but you can’t say it’s feminism. Because of feminist attempts to brainwash the masses, you may think that sluts only exist in the Western world, that only they are “empowered” enough to fuck around. My dick is laughing at that premise. You don’t need feminism to have a healthy sex life with a lot of women. Mixx is fucking dozens of women in Colombia. Does he need feminism to do that? Naughty Nomad is banging nubile African princesses, racking up more flags than anyone I know. Does he need feminism to do that? Credit our success on looks, money, game, easy sluts, or what have you, but definitely not feminism.

I will reluctantly give feminism one thing: among the common man they sped up the dissemination of game, an art that has been taught for over 2,000 years, starting with Ovid’s The Art Of Love. The anger they have inflicted on this generation of men has caused game teachings to be more accepted into the mainstream, but feminists are not the only women who enjoy sex with men who have their shit together. Approaching, having tight conversation, being confident, and being aggressive with sealing the deal works anywhere in the world at any point in history, not just in modern Western culture. Maybe in some places it may take an extra date or two to get the bang, but unless you’re talking about ultra-conservative countries where women wear a hijab and extra-marital relations are punished by the state, your dick will not suffer just because it’s in a country not dominated by feminist cunts.

When an American girl tells you to thank feminism for being able to play the field, tell her your boy in Poland is fucking more than his dick can handle, even though the country has not been afflicted by the culture of obese, masculine women with fattitude who think they’re better that men. Western-style feminism, a movement that didn’t stop after suffrage and equal pay, serves absolutely no benefit to you or society. Don’t let them make you believe otherwise.

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In the USA there still exists a niche where men can find reasonably attractive girls: hipsters. Girls who run in hipster circles are concerned with their appearance much more than the average girl, meaning she will not come out of the house looking like she has given up on life. Most importantly, she’ll be skinny. Yoga chicks and hipster chicks are the last remaining skinny breed of American girl left.

Unfortunately, besides her average weight, the hipster chick will possess a lot of downsides:

• Ugly prescription glasses
• Stupid tattoos
• Complete lack of femininity
• Unpainted nails, often chewed down to stubs
• Overconfident even though she’s only knowledgeable about music and fashion
• Outfits that make you wonder if she’s trying out for a position in the circus
• Always trying to be witty and ironic

Nonetheless, she’s still better than the alternative, a “mainstream” girl who is 20 pounds overweight, speaks in LOL dialect, and wears flip flops everywhere. Hipster chicks are like the lesser of two very horrible evils.

Now you can’t just roll up to a hipster bar with a stripped shirt from JC Penny and expect to get good responses. You’ll have to make a few cosmetic changes. First, grow out your hair and beard. You don’t have to adopt a Jesus look, but you should not look like you’re about conduct a job interview at Goldman Sachs. Second, buy a couple deep v-necks along with a snug pair of jeans. It doesn’t have to be skinny jeans, but it shouldn’t be baggy in the 50 Cent style. Congratulations, you now have a basic look that will not be objectionable to hipster girls.

One way to stand out from the other hipster dudes without getting a lot of video game tattoos or being in a band is to have some muscles. Hipster dudes are frail with concentration camp bodies, so having a more athletic build—that your v-neck will undoubtedly highlight—will do a better job of tapping into her ancestral desire for a strong man. Just don’t be jacked because hipster chicks don’t like that. Even though hipsters are obsessed with their look, making sure each strand of hair is strategically placed across their face, the trick is making it seem like you don’t really care.

As for what type of game to spit, I’m confident you’ll quickly adapt as you start approaching them. At first you’ll feel unprepared to talk about their favorite venues and music, but after 20 approaches and some basic internet research, you’ll be able to discuss their interests. Other than that you can run your normal game, so there’s no need to reinvent the wheel.

I unwittingly tapped into the hipster niche after buying a $7 white v-neck in Brazil. I came back to the U.S. with my already shaggy hair and scruffy beard and did quite well with them even though they were nothing like the Latin women I was banging in South America. I remember how the first American girl I fucked after that trip was wearing bright red pants. Until then I had never had sex with a girl who owned such an item.

The hipster niche will not be exploitable for long as that subculture becomes increasingly homogenized with the mainstream (I’m sure you remember the time before plaid became popular). Plus, hipster chicks are getting fatter. Or maybe fat chicks are becoming hipsters. Anyway, I estimate you have about two or three years to rock it out with some pseudo-anorexic hipster chicks until fatties completely take over the country and smother us all.

There was a time where the only way you could exploit the hipster culture was to wear a cape and a monocle, but that time is no more. Put on a v-neck, build glorious scruff above your neck, and enjoy sex with some weird and self-absorbed women.

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Technology and globalization will make man more idle, unable to find meaning of his place in the world. He will have no need to work the earth or understand nature. He will be in front of computers all day and televisions at night. Entertainment and shiny tablets will be shoved down his throat, making him complacent, dumb, anxious, and entitled. Man is being turned into obsessive-compulsive victims who are nothing more than glorified pushers of smartphone buttons, unable to live without the constant distraction of beeps, noises, and moving images.

The elite will own your mind and body. The parasite class sees you as nothing but a little machine to generate their wealth, and they will suck you dry until there is nothing left but bone and dust. The 20th century workers revolution was just a speed bump in their march to dominate you. Full employment and an ever increasing standard of living will not be realized. The unemployed masses will only swell. You will be living from check to check, on the brink of starvation, if that’s not already happening to you now.

The West will continue their destruction of the humale male until society itself collapses. No longer are there incentives for you to reproduce in a Western country, and doing so could lead to your ruin and even imprisonment. The future is a minority of white men ruling over the proletariat, not for the purpose of human good but for controlling power. Orwell’s boot is above all of our heads, ready to stomp down.

Women will become more masculine until the word “woman” no longer has any meaning. They are losing the ability to act like women and maintain a household at a pace faster than even I could have imagined. The end game is an Androgynous World Order like what they have in Scandinavia, where there is no “girl” or “boy,” and any behavior that one gender can do is also acceptable by the other. Criticism against gender and race is not allowed. Conformity in thought must be maintained at all times.

Countries go through a cycle on their path towards male destruction:

1. Alpha Man Paradise. These are corrupt societies where a successful man can set up his own little harem, not unlike those of ancient Aztec or Chinese civilizations. Average men are resigned to picking up scraps. Example countries: Russia, Iran.

2. Good Man Environment. A country where men are still respected by both government and women (Poland, Colombia).

3. Man Destruction Pending. These countries have been injected with the destruction virus. Advancement to the final stage is possible within our lifetimes (Brazil, Spain, Germany).

4. Men Being Actively Destroyed. Wholly inhospitable environments for men. Rampant false-rape charges and financial rape in divorce court. Being an alpha male is already a crime or soon will be (United States, England, Australia, Scandinavia).

Japan is a great example of end game where men simply cease to reproduce, resigning themselves to sex dolls and comics. In 100 years, all Japan will be known for is producing strange pornography.

It pains me to put Brazil in category three, but my eyes don’t lie. I was surprised at the progresso Brazil was making between my trips there, spaced only within two years. While Rio and Sao Paulo will give you five times more happiness than Chicago or Washington DC, it’s becoming increasingly less so. Even in Poland, the amount of smartphone and corresponding bitch face of women using them increased within only six months once T Mobile opened up shop here. For countries in a state of man decline, it will be necessary to visit their second or even third-tier cities where the ills of “progress” have not yet influenced the populace. For those men yet to be born, the only way for them to experience the feminine women that sexpats like me currently take for granted will be to step inside luddite towns with populations under 25,000 people.

I look into the future for guys like us and all I see is darkness. It’s not getting better anywhere. There is no place where women are becoming more feminine, where worker power over industry is increasing, or where people put aside technology to interact more with their fellow man. This means we have no choice but to become flexible and location independent, moving from one pile of rubble to the next, trying to squeeze out the remaining ounces of happiness that the world is capable of giving us. Baby boomer men have lived in what was perhaps the best time to have been a man on earth, where they could marry a real woman and build a family while working a stable job, all in the same place. That’s over, and it will never improve. Loot while you can.

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You made me a selfish asshole. You rewarded me with sex when I treated you poorly. Your pussy got wetter the less I respected you. You made me go against my kind nature by being more cocky and arrogant.

You made me emotionally cold. You punished me any time I told you my feelings. You lost interest in me whenever I showed you basic human affection before you gave me affection first. You showed me that the less I concerned myself with your well-being, the more you did what I wanted.

You made me go for shallow one-night stands. You wouldn’t return my call even though we had what you admitted was a great conversation. You would flake and disappear for no obvious reason, making me feel like a piece of shit. You made me view sex as a numbers game where I treat you as nothing more than a “prospect” towards my sexual needs, an entry in my cell phone that represented possible sex, not a human being I wanted to build something with. You gave me no choice but to speed up all interactions at caveman speed so I could at least get a nut.

You made me leave America. Your entitled attitude become unbearable and your appearance disgusting. You have lost what it means to be a woman and what it takes to make a man happy. You have so little value to give yet you still expect Prince Charming to one day sweep you off your feet. You are a corrupted and damaged female, and have tried your damnedest to bring me down to your level.

The more game I learned and the more women I approached, the more sex I got. The more I worried about my needs and the more I treated you like crap, the more you went out of your way to please me. The colder I was to you, the more likely you’d want to be with me. The faster I went for sex, the less you flaked on me. The more time I spent away from America, the happier I became.

You made me hate feminism. You made me forget about marriage. You made me a voice for men who have gone through the same struggles that I have. The interactions I have with a woman tomorrow is entirely due to your influence and how you’ve treated me the past fifteen years. Who I am stems from your responses to my attempts at fulfilling my biological urge of sleeping with you. You’ve shaped my game and views towards women every time you rejected me and every time you opened your legs. You made me who I am, and every day you create one thousand men who are just like me.

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There is a significant difference in the nature of Swedish feminism versus American feminism: the latter wants to have things both ways (“We’re totally equal but men should still be chivalrous”), while Swedish feminists appear to actually mean equality when they say it.

I don’t think that American men hate feminism in and of itself. The vast majority of American men don’t have a problem with legal and occupational equality for women, but what really irks them is the hypocrisy of it all. The root cause of it is the uniquely arrogant nature of American feminism, whereby women demand more power without any consequences. The basic fundamental nature of these issues is defined by a female desire to have their cake and eat it too.

Consider the following issues:

1. “Manning up.” Females here want to ride the cock carousel in youth while shunning commitment from the beta males who do want it, sometimes outright insulting them. Then they want to age while shaming and harping on them to “man up.” Have cake, eat cake.

How can a man win in this situation? When he tries to be the nice, committed, idealistic romantic that women say they want, he gets shunned. The feminists label him a “Nice Guy” ™, which in their lexicon is code for creepy loser with an agenda. So he is shamed for “manning up.”

Assuming the guy isn’t an idiot, he proceeds to adapt. He learns game, stops taking women out on dinner dates, and keeps things more casual. His success improves. He mans up in a way that women weren’t expecting, but then as he ages, he once again encounters problems. Now those same women who “didn’t want to get serious” suddenly want to get serious. They shunned him for wanting to commit so he stopped committing, and it worked. Now they shame him for not committing enough and failing to “man up.” Since they’re rapidly aging, they want back the cake they ate (read: rejected) in their prime, expecting the former “nice guy” to provide it.

2. Obesity. Fat women in America want to eat however they like and maintain zero impulse control or discipline, but they also want to be treated as though they were fit, cute girls without looking the part. They shouldn’t be called unattractive or unhealthy even though they are unattractive and unhealthy. Have cake, eat cake (literally).

3. Divorce laws. “We as women are entirely equal to men intellectually and socially, but we still want alimony, and will proceed to initiate 75% of all divorces even though we were the ones begging men to ‘man up’ and marry us in the first place.” They beg men to man up, and yet promote a legal system that gives men very little incentive to do so. Have cake, eat cake.

4. “I just want a nice, reliable guy.” After saying this she proceeds to bang the idiotic DJs down the street while ignoring the “nice, reliable” guys she does know. Says one thing, does another. Had the cake, ate the cake. Later on, she’ll wonder where all of the good guys went, and you’ll start hearing her call for her male peers to “man up.”

5. Don’t know how to cook. Roosh mentioned this one on his list of 42 Things Wrong With American Women. Not knowing how to cook isn’t really a bad thing in and of itself. The problem comes when you insert hypocrisy. These same women who lack cooking and other domestic skills (i.e., cannot fill a traditional feminine gender role) expect men to fulfill traditional male gender roles (pay all the bills and be chivalrous). Again, they want to have their cake and eat it too. It is equal when they like it, misogynistic when they do not.

6. Sex Tourist. Women who travel are always “broadening their horizons” and “discovering the world”. Nobody is going to question a woman who wants to take a trip to Latin America for a summer. A guy, though? Probably a sex tourist. Nevermind the fact that quite a few older women travel to parts of the Caribbean trying to “Rent a Rasta.”

Take the movie Heading South as an example, about older American female sex tourists in Haiti sexing up and generously compensating young Haitian teens. It received solid reviews and even a few awards at Venice in 2005. Let’s imagine a movie with a very similar premise except the protagonists this time are American men in the Dominican Republic sexing up teenage girls. How well received do you think that would have been?

7. They have standards way beyond their level of attractiveness. This is another item off Roosh’s list of 42. Fat girls here don’t lower their standards. They do not limit themselves to a guy with a similar BMI. They want a dude with 10-12% body fat, just like every other chick. Yet whenever men complain about not being able to date a woman on their own level, women label their standards “unrealistic” by saying, “Clearly you’re just looking at the wrong girls! Maybe the problem is you!”

Women can want whatever their hearts desire and state it openly, but men are shamed for voicing those same wants. She is free to go on and on about her 400+ point list of requirements (“He’s gotta be at least 6’2″, has to have a masters, must make at least six figures, needs to be handsome”), but when a man starts with his much shorter list (“She needs to be loyal, caring, but I’d like her to also be thin…”), he is a delusional misogynist promoting unhealthy standards of beauty.

8. Cougars. Older women sport-fucking men half their age is fine. Those women are empowered, embracing their sexuality. Who cares if she just hit 40 and the guy is barely old enough to buy alcohol? Now let’s replace the 40-year-old female cougar with a 40-year-old male businessman, and the 21-year-old college dude with a 21-year-old female co-ed. What happens?

Whereas the cougar was “empowered” and not widely criticized for engaging in a relationship with such a huge age gap, he is a “dirty old man”. He is obviously going through a mid-life crisis, even though she clearly wasn’t (and we all know that women hit their sexual prime at 35…right? RIGHT?).

All of this is easy to see through, and that is why men hate it so much. It is just too wildly transparent and self-serving. Equal pay and legal rights are fine, but feminism here isn’t demanding that. It’s asking for female dominance, not equality, and that is somewhat infuriating. Modern, mainstream third-wave American feminism seems to very strongly support, or fail to criticize, these constant double standards. This is why men hate it.

Getting back to the Scandinavian question, Swedish feminists may be outspoken in their demand for absolute equality, but they’re not going to encourage their women to eat and look like land-whales while still nurturing ridiculously high standards for men, which is part of why they have only a 9% obesity rate. Men there are not forced to deal with the hypocrisy of physically repulsive women asking to be treated as though they were way above the law. Their women may not fit traditional feminine gender roles very well, but they’re also not subsequently asking men to keep filling masculine roles the way many American women do (they’re more likely to pay on a date, among other things). Thus, the guys don’t seem quite as angry, and I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t be either.

On another note, American women of all kinds seem to generally maintain a passionate hatred for beta males. This varies somewhat by community (it’s obviously more extreme among blacks, less so among whites and Asians), but it’s there. They are almost universally unwelcome in this society by females.

It has been mentioned before that in Scandinavia and much of the rest of Europe, beta males seem to carry a lot more value. Now, consider that the majority of men everywhere are what you would call beta males, and you have a clearer answer. Swedish women are not quite as hostile to betas, which comprise the majority of the male populace, meaning you will see more amicable gender relations. American women, especially feminists, tend to dislike betas. Thus, you have less amicable gender relations.

Add to this the raw capitalist nature of American relations where so many relationships seem to be about the transfer of status and cash, rather than the more crucial intangible things, and you have a recipe for hostility. The women here never really love the men in the first place, and the men, most of whom are betas, naturally react with skepticism and hostility towards a female populace that is more openly and viciously hostile to betas than others across the world.

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I’m convinced that the solution is to grow up and do what society expects of me, to be a man as defined by my middle-class peers.

I will man up and fly to Washington DC. I will fix my resume, make up some amazing bullshit for the four-year gap in professional employment, and become a microbiologist again. Hopefully I won’t have a mean boss, and hopefully the HR gals like me enough so I don’t get the axe in the first round of corporate restructuring.

Once stably employed, I will man up by looking for a modest condominium in the suburbs, taking on a mortgage that is not too crushing. The mortgage will give me a respectability that my self-published fuck guides never could. Hopefully the value of my condo doesn’t decline, the condo association nazis don’t complain about my music, and no major repairs will be needed that force me to eat ramen for an extended period of time.

To get around in the suburbs, I will man up by purchasing an environmentally friendly automobile, preferably a Toyota Prius. I will finance it. I will have to budget carefully since gas, insurance, and maintenance adds up. Hopefully I don’t get into a catastrophic accident.

I will man up and enroll in a part-time graduate program by borrowing the tuition (I can get my dad to co-sign the loan since he likes it when I go to school). If I really move my ass, I can have a fresh degree in four years, which will really impress my boss and set me up for a 4.5% annual raise instead of the usual 3%. My debt load should now keep me quite busy and anxious for the next 30 years.

I will man up and find a wife on eHarmony. She’ll be my age, a handsome woman tired of being pumped and dumped, with a masculine sensibility that South American and Eastern European women don’t have. She will drastically shorten her hair six months after the wedding, and in spite of my disapproval, she will gain one pound a month until finally exploding like a whale for our first of two kids. She’ll never make the effort to lose the pregnancy weight, no matter how many subtle gym membership gifts I get her for Valentines Day, Mothers Day, her birthday, and Christmas. She will lose interest in having sex with me. The most humiliating moment of my life will be when she tells me to pump her hand while she reads a woman’s magazine. I will feel unattractive and unloved.

Once the kids are in middle school, my wife will initiate divorce proceedings because “the feeling” is no longer there. The feeling was no longer there for me either, but I was willing to make it work for our children. Nonetheless, I will man up and let her take the property, the cars, and the kids. I will pay her steep child support payments that leave me on the edge of poverty. My kids will be brainwashed against me, and hate me for the rest of their lives. I’ll hate them too, but if I stop paying child support I will be sent to prison. With little fatherly influence in their lives, my son will become a little bitch and my daughter a slut who loses her virginity at the age of 14.

I will not give up on life. I will work even harder and make wise investments until my kids are 18 and the burden of child support payments are lifted. Once eligible for social security at the age of 67, I will take my modest nest egg to a modern country with a cheap standard of living, maybe Poland. Once there, no one will count on me and no one will expect anything of me. There will no reason to wake up before noon. I’ll spend my days writing, reading, drinking, and purchasing pussy. I will have so much free time that I’ll decide to learn Polish, one of the hardest languages in the world, just for the hell of it. Yes, I’m ready to man up.

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For women, it allows them to believe that they are still beautiful princesses who don’t have to lose weight, adjust their attitude, grow their hair, or put on a pair of high heels. It’s much easier to call guys like me “losers,” to believe that no desirable man would ever step foot inside Brazil or Poland to meet women, than it is to look in the mirror and be disappointed with what they see.

For beta males and white knights, the insult allows them to deny the fact that other men are pulling quality women while they’re getting nothing but turd droppings from butch feminists. They want to believe that a man who does “dating travel” only gets uneducated, diseased women who have AIDS and large vaginal sores. It’s much easier for him to fire off the insult than to tighten his game, stop playing video games, stop pedastalizing masculine women, and undertake the challenge of world travel where English may not be the dominant language.

There is no snappy retort when someone uses the insult because it comes from two deeply held beliefs of self-preservation:

1. “I don’t have to change or improve myself to get what I want.”
2. “If someone doesn’t like me, it’s never my fault.”

Most guys who dabble in dating travel do it not because they can’t get laid in America, but because they want to lay better. An American man with tight game can leverage that into getting with foreign women who I guarantee will increase his happiness level. Yet as I’ve said before, how you’ll do abroad is based on how well you do at home. All the guys who think that it’s a cakewalk to get laid with beautiful women in places like Colombia and Argentina have obviously never stepped more than a couple feet away from their masturbation station. It can be easy only after hard work and time, but not right as you get off the plane.

How about the guy with severe appearance deformities, negative game, and a psychiatric disorder who decides to hit Thailand in order to sleep with a dozen prostitutes? Should we shame him for such a trip?

We shouldn’t. If it makes him happy, and he’s able to leverage his American dollars to get abroad what he can’t get at home, he should fuck all the prostitutes he can handle. Explain to me how it’s smart for any society to prevent millions of sexually frustrated men from getting their biological needs met. For feminists to deny fucking these “losers” and then shame them at the same time for paying prostitutes is nothing short of cruel. If these men committed mass suicide, not a single feminist tear would be shed.

I have any analogy for why guys like me hit the road in search of their own little slice of happiness. Let’s say that the town you live in has only two bars called Cuntfest Bar and Poonani Paradise Bar. It’s Friday night and you get separate text messages from friends who are at each bar. Here’s what the text messages say…

Friend number one: “I’m at Cuntfest Bar and it sucks. There are six dudes for every girl, and the girls are hideous and overweight. Their attitude sucks.”

Friend number two: “I’m at Poonani Paradise Bar. There are four girls for every guy. The girls are feminine, beautiful, affectionate, and a pleasure to talk to. Most are wearing short skirts and 4-inch heels.”

American women and their beta-male apologists would have you believe that you’re a creep and a douche bag for going to Poonani Paradise Bar. Their argument is that you should “man up” by going to Cuntfest Bar, which is close to how I see America.

By going to Poonani Paradise Bar and refusing to put up with bad behavior, obesity, and so on, you have declared war on American women. You are now the enemy. They will begin to use all sorts of weaponry to make you feel ashamed for going to Poonani Paradise Bar, because they know that the less people who believe in Cuntfest Bar, the less power they have. Anything you do that increases your ability to be sexually successful while decreasing your dependence on dating American women will result in them trying to isolate and disparage you. The quickest way to enrage an American girl or her beta male orbiter is to state that you don’t need American pussy.

Imagine for a second if every man in the United States not only knew about Poonani Paradise Bar but also the means to go and stay there. What would happen? Withdrawal of penis from the American dating market. The most valuable and sharpest men would abstain from relationships with American women, who would gradually lose their power and have to make adjustments. While I don’t think this will happen in my lifetime, women are only willing to make changes when the number of men trying to fuck them decrease. To keep the line of desperate men long and obedient, they will do all they can to spread the word that Cuntfest Bar is the only acceptable bar for men to drink at.

Their growing problem, however, is that too many men have been to Poonani Paradise Bar, also known as the “third world” (a tag given for any country not in predominately white North America or Western Europe). These guys are now starting to tell their friends. They’re going on forums and writing positive reviews praising Poonani Paradise Bar:

“5 stars for thin girls”
“Fell in love, will visit again”
“A++++ says my dick”

Women can continue to call me and my brothers-in-arms losers and creeps for going to the “third world,” but we still won’t accept their obese and sloppy appearance, we still won’t put up with their shitty attitudes, we still won’t marry them, and we still won’t give up the prime of our lives to be with them. If being happier means being outcast by low-quality women who don’t even act like women, then so be it. South America, Southeast Asia, and Eastern Europe, here we come.

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A few weeks ago I met a tall Polish girl who lived in America for two years. She tried to make fun of me for being alone in the club, when she was in fact alone herself. She smiled while busting my balls, as if she was getting enjoyment out of it. I hadn’t had to come up with insult retorts in quite a while, so it took me time to deploy my counterattacks. They were guided in by GPS satellites, beautifully destroying their target. Her face turned sour and she looked like she was about to cry.

I remember the Lithuanian girl I approached in the grocery store. She lived in Britain for five years. Since this was a day approach, I gave her no cockiness, yet when I asked her to repeat her difficult name a few minutes after she first said it, she said, “Really? You can’t remember my name?” Her attitude was flippant, ready to punish me for trying to build rapport with her.

I remember another Polish girl who lived in Britain for one year. She was the coldest one yet, telling me to “Shut up and listen” while going on about how she’s tired of one-night stands and is finally ready to sucker land a guy for a relationship. She questioned everything I said, had no humor about her, and told me she doesn’t wear heels because “they hurt.” Even though she wanted to continue talking to me, I cut the interaction short.

I’ve interacted with several dozen Eastern European women by now (mostly Polish) and these are the only three times that I was left with a bad taste in my mouth when a cockblock was not involved. While not all my interactions with Polish women result in beautiful lovemaking, it’s very rare that I’m wondering to myself why she had to act in a rude manner when I wasn’t disrespecting her. Therefore it’s easy for me to conclude that Western cultures cause direct negative harm to a woman’s feminine vibe and allure. Here are eight things that happen:

1. She loses the ability to flirt with a man without busting his balls or insulting him.

2. She does everything in her power to withhold interest, even when it’s clear that sex is on the agenda. She takes “play hard to get” to an inhuman extreme.

3. She looks for every opportunity possible to turn a man’s banal utterances into an opportunity to debate him on his beliefs or behavior.

4. She uses conversation as a means to her entertainment, instead of a means to getting to know a man more deeply.

5. She becomes more lazy about her appearance by gaining weight, wearing flats and flip flops instead of heels, and cutting her hair short into strange lesbian stylings.

6. She goes out of her way to brag about her accomplishments as if she was a man while doing her best to ignore your more lofty achievements.

7. She becomes obsessed with her cell phone, playing with it incessantly and using it as a substitute for social interaction. She loses the ability to enjoy the present moment.

8. She becomes a status whore more concerned about your job, who you know, and what you own instead of the experiences you’ve had.

Western culture is a like a disease on the female human. I don’t know the exact epidemiology of infection, or what sorts of experiences cause such devastating damage, but stepping foot inside the borders of America or Britain for more than three months will cause the female victim to become infected with the Western virus. For every year she spends in the West, she must live for ten years in a culture where feminism and unbridled capitalism has not yet corrupted society in order to rid herself of the disease. Unfortunately, by the time all traces of virus are undetectable in her bloodstream, she will be old and craggily, no longer suitable or capable of mating. Western culture essentially renders them sterile.

To give you an idea of how far gone Western women are, I present the following article: My first-date dress works every time. It’s a story about a horse-faced woman who has determined that her success in getting call-backs from men is due to wearing a reasonably attractive dress.

Men respond better to “feminine” clothing items, such as dresses and skirts, than they do to pants, according to professional matchmaker Rachel Greenwald, author of “Have Him at Hello.”

American women are so clueless about how to act like women that they have to re-learn common sense from “professionals” who teach them (for money) that men like skirts more than pants. I’m guessing these experts also moonlight in teaching others that the sun will rise again tomorrow.

The best analogy I can make to this pathetic state of affairs is the human race losing agriculture, the ability to grow their own food. In a panic they collect experts from around the world who slowly figure out that seeds go into the soil, that the soil needs water (not Brawndo), and that the substance growing out of the soil can be harvested as food. Sadly, Western women are rapidly losing the knowledge and ability to be women.

For men there are only two courses of action. The first is to adopt an “ignorance is bliss” attitude where you only date Western women, never realizing that you’re injecting your seed into a diseased body. You can go to sleep thinking you just ate filet mignon when in fact it was ground beef patties treated with ammonia. Close your eyes and pretend.

The second option is to get a taste of feminine women abroad, specifically in South America, Eastern Europe, or Southeast Asia. Your palate will explode with sensations and tastes it has never experienced before, leading you to curse yourself for not sampling it sooner. Yes, you will have a couple years of unhappiness when you’re still stuck with Western women while your Brazilian long-distance girlfriend begs you to return, but you will gradually complete the necessary actions to ensure that you never have to date a contaminated woman again.

I implore you to act on the second option by going straight to the farm for the freshest, tastiest food possible. Otherwise you are stuck with a glorified McDonalds dollar menu, which is exactly what Western women have become: mass-produced dreck that you consume only when you’re drunk and nowhere else is open. You deserve better.

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“DC has a lot of over-educated white girls who could stand to lose 20 lbs. They have decidedly average faces. Said women believe that their education level and wack governmentalish type job makes them more of a catch than looking photogenic and being feminine… ” #

“I remember my first year here when it was not unusual to go to bars or clubs and see a good ratio of attractive women to men. Unfortunately things have changed drastically. Even the few girls that are out… a lot of them are unattractive. A few of the attractive girls I have smashed have also told me they thought the women here were mostly ugly. This creates a problem for single men. The pool of attractive women is a lot smaller here then it is in LA/NYC or Miami.” #

“There’s a map that claims that there is a higher proportion of single women to men in the DC area. But it doesn’t take into account that a lot of women don’t really take care of themselves like they do out west. Most of the girls that move out here don’t come to pursue modeling careers. It’s also cold half of the year. Not as much pressure to stay in shape.” #

“The only chicks who move to DC seem to be chubby, pasty white girls who have grad degrees in Poly Sci or Public Relations (or some other bullshit) and want to work in a gubbymint job or for a non-profit.” #

“Go out to a bar in DC this weekend. The few girls that you even see out will put very little effort into their dress. Is it so hard to put on makeup and high heels at least? I guess they can get away with it because there is very little competition here.” #

2. The city has boring, cookie-cutter people.

“The problem with DC is the majority of industries it caters to have boring, lackluster people (law and government). Government workers are the laziest, blandest, most depressing, least passionate people around and that becomes somewhat contagious. They go through the motions and count the days to retirement but they enjoy the security of a government job. The other problem is 3/4 of the city is off-limits if you aren’t looking to get shot and robbed.” #

“It’s pretty conformist, bourgeois and relatively upscale. If your goal is simply to have a stable, upper-middle class lifestyle and you are fairly conservative, it may be the city for you. It’s more for people who work, want to unwind on the weekends and mostly seem to have steady girlfriends or maybe date around somewhat. However, DC does seem to weed out the extremes of society including real creative energy and excitement.” #

“DC has always drawn lots of consultants who come here with job offers directly out of college with the Booz Allen, Accenture, and PWC’s of the world. Sure, some of them are hot, but it’s more the homely academic type. You also get a lot of the khaki-wearing men who put the girls on a pedestal, giving them an increasing sense of self-worth. It’s kind of funny… last time I was in LA at the beach area and saw several smokin hot chicks with guys who had the emo band look, tight jeans, crazy hair, etc. That’s something you rarely if ever see here.” #

3. Regardless of what surveys or Census figures say, Washington DC is the biggest sausagefest on the Eastern seaboard. This is obvious to anyone who has been out on a Saturday night.

“My sister just moved from NYC last year and really hated it, primarily because she felt like she was surrounded by government drones with no personality, but when she found out she could go out to a bar with 5 dollars in her pocket and have guys buy her drinks all night, she quickly changed her mind.” #

4. It forces you to lower your standards and date low-quality girls you would’ve never previously considered.

“The amount of guys i know that married a DC girl is minimal, and those guys married down. I don’t know one guy from DC who is married to a girl from this area where I thought to myself ‘Wow, good for him, that’s a nice pull.’” #

5. The few girls who are pretty have princess attitudes because of all the attention they get from the surplus of desperate, horny men.

“You get a few hotties at some of the consulting companies (Accenture is pretty good about hiring hot chicks), but they’re in the overwhelming minority and benefit from a supply/demand issue. Also, the ones who are attractive and have grown up in the area are basically spoiled princesses who have been having their asses kissed their whole lives and have no concept of reality.” #

6. The city is rapidly exporting cool, attractive people while importing ugly political nerds from the Midwest or upstate New York who insist on wearing flip-flops all the time.

“I went down there with a buddy this past summer for 3-4 days and hopped from Dupont, Adams Morgan, and U Street. We hit the happy hour spots on a Thurs/Friday. Nothing. Whatever talent I remember DC having has left.” #

“Does anybody remember south of dupont back in 07/08? Sooo many chicks just walking around. I remember the first time I went to Play lounge (midtown) back then. The place was packed with women. Then you’d step outside and the sidewalks had girls coming out of 1223. 1223 is gone and now it’s called Dirty Martini and it’s not even a club anymore. Heck even Lucky Bar used to be great. That place was like shooting fish in barrel.

“Now it’s terrible (low quality and a sausagefest)… I was at Public and Rumors last weekend and it was such a sausage party. Do you remember the Park at 14th back in 08/09? Two years ago I went to their international night and it was four floors of model-looking chicks of every race. It used to be diverse and high quality. Now it’s ghetto as hell. Recently an NFL player got stabbed outside of there. Even during the day and after work Dupont used to have a lot of hot girls walking around. Now it’s a lot less. Not sure what happened. I’m glad I’m not the only one who has noticed.” #

7. There aren’t enough cute white girls for white men who don’t want to date minorities.

“Without sounding like a racist, this is what is killing DC nightlife for me. I’m a white dude and I like white girls with a few exceptions here and there. The demographics of this area have shifted dramatically where there are so many Asians, Middle Easterns, blacks, and Hispanics that 1/5 of the girls out that night are actually white (and that doesn’t mean they are slim or attractive or single). Because so many people work for the government some way or another and make decent money, there is no income segregation and all the races party at the same places. There is a shortage of white girls and girls from Latin American countries like Brazil or Argentina.” #

“I think last time I was at Modern I felt like I was in Asia.” #

8. Women who live in DC gradually become status whores, obsessed with what you do and if you’re getting a table at the newest club on K Street.

“A ton of status whoring, fake people, degree chasers, one uppers, the ‘I care less than you do’ crowd.” #

“First conversation starter is always “What’s your job?” Lame just lame.” #

“DC women are very superficial… they are sizing you up to see how you can benefit them and their career. People live to work in this city… they all will have law degree’s, mba’s or some silly phd and they will make sure that’s the first thing you know about them. They’re gonna be looking at your clothes, car, and all the other dumb shit they use to measure you.” #

“Just about every 6+ chick found in a DC bar/club thinks she’s a 10 and has her 24-7 bitch shield up. Shoot, I am a white dude who works out constantly (9% body fat only), dresses sharp and makes it a point to always smile (I have nice teeth), yet the number of times girls give me the eye roll here is unreal! Sometimes, I dream of being a tall celebrity cat as that seems to be about the only foolproof method of getting GOOD-LOOKING women in DC.” #

9. Recent implants have sucked all the character out of neighborhoods by supporting soulless corporate chains. Soon the only stores in the city will be Starbucks, Potbelly, Chipotle, or cupcake shops.

“Neighborhoods filled with culture and diversity are being dissolved and turned into breeding grounds for kids trying to slum it with the safety of a Whole Foods in the vicinity.” #

10. Adams Morgan turns into an open-air ghetto on weekend nights during the summer. You can’t walk around after last call without wannabe thugs making derogatory comments at your girl.

11. There are not as many young and nubile au-pairs coming into the city as before.

“I’ve also noticed that the au-pair market has shrunk. I dated some au-pairs back in ’05-06 and although it was transient, at least I wasn’t lonely. But that avenue seems very diminished now.” #

“Cosign on the decreased au pair sightings. They used to be dime a dozen five years ago. There are so few that the fat Polish girl who would get no love back in her hometown is getting approached 20 times a night in DC. I knew a mediocre Brazilian girl (a 5) come to DC and tell me how amazing it is that guys offer to buy her drinks and take her for rides on boats (Georgetown). She loved the city of course. Back in Brazil she was a nobody.” #

12. It’s one of the most expensive cities to live in the United States , yet the girls are bottom of the barrel and still expect to be treated like NYC models.

13. The subway system is managed by retards, resulting in a high loss of life for a public transportation system in a first world city.

14. The weather sucks. It’s an intolerable swamp in the summer and cold enough in the winter that most women hibernate with their vibrators.

15. The HIV rate is the highest in America, exceeding that of many African nations.

In conclusion, Washington DC fucking sucks. I feel sorry for your dick if you live there.

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I don’t have to tell you that approaching is hard as balls. It takes years to get to an elite level and even then it’s still hard. There is a long trail of tears left by men who attempted it but simply didn’t have enough fortitude to push forward. Those same men are left participating in kickball, frisbee, and dodgeball clubs to meet unattractive women with thick ankles. For the majority of men in the world, watching a guy approach a girl cold and end up with a number or kiss might as well be magic, and I personally take it for granted that I have this ability when so many will die before even having a minor success from it.

Like any other challenging skill, the rewards are immense for those guys that learn it, but I find that only Western men are motivated enough to master approaching without the aid of a dance floor. The ultimate show of game commitment is approaching during the day, something you only see done by Western men.

From movies and television you’ll get the impression that Spanish or Italian men have the best game. I wholeheartedly disagree. They are more scared to approach, and once they finally gather the liquid courage, all they do is compliment and show needy behavior. If you grill any American girl who has had a lot of experience with them, the term “creepy” will be thrown around frequently. Only naive Western girls who swing by those countries for a short amount of time fall for their compliment & cuddle game. Hell, even I believed Spanish guys were game masters thanks to watching movies like Vicki Cristina Barcelona, but witnessing them in action has been an exercise in trying not to spit out my drink from laughter. They are not actually capable of doing the following:

How about men from other countries? Here’s a small sampling:

Brazil. These guys are top contenders for best game, but there’s a big problem: they move way too fast. They get a lot of kisses, but less bangs than those kisses would predict. Brazilian guys are samplers, not closers, but still get an honorable mention for their strong alpha game.

Iceland. The worst game I’ve ever seen in my life. The guys don’t know how to approach or have conversation. They wait for girls to approach them. Pussies.

Denmark. They have strong social circle game and their conversation skills are better than Icelandic guys, but they are too scared to approach unless drunk.

Poland. There’s a Dr. Jekyll and Hyde thing going on with them. When sober they’re pathetic betas who would pee their pants at the sight of a beautiful women, but when they drink they step up and do dance floor approaches that work for them since their women love to dance.

Ecuador. I was very impressed by Ecuadorian men. They’re salsa dancing is magical and they have a positive attitude that suck women in. They’re persistent and not afraid to approach outside of the bar. If you’re in Latin America and see a short dark guy approaching like a madman, I bet he’s from Ecuador.

Argentina. Similar to guys from Spain, but a little more aggressive. You have a few guys who are animals in the club but most depend on social circle game.

And now for Western guys:

England. Great humor and charm, but when they overdrink they turn loud and obnoxious. They cockblock themselves with their lack of alcohol control.

Australian. Also good humor with a great cocky vibe, but sometimes this borders on abrasive, which pushes girls away. They can be the most annoying of Western men.

Irish. The funniest of the bunch, but worse than the English when it comes to self-cockblocking with drink.

American. Most laid back, at the cost of being more passive, but they are best at preventing self-sabotage. Therefore they are better at sealing the deal on girls who aren’t drunk.

When it comes down to it, two guys in the world have the best game: Western guys and Latin guys. Western guys have better conversation ability and cocky humor while Latin guys have better dancing ability. Unfortunately, Latin guys have eye-rolling talking game that prevents me from crowning them with the top spot.

By saying “American” I’m including black guys, who help raise the level of American game by picking up slack of the beta white dudes who are too chicken to approach. Without black guys on our team, we would definitely be worse than the English or Australians, but their cool factor and aggressiveness puts them on the starting roster. Plenty a white man would do himself a favor by learning their fearless approach style.

If you are American, understand that your culture possesses the right mix of factors that allow you to excel in cold approaching. You’re more talkative than most other guys in the world and you have female targets that not only are talkative themselves but don’t mind being picked up by random men. For you not to take advantage of that fertile environment—to believe the Hollywood bullshit that European men are better than you—is to shit on your American heritage and waste plenty of bangs that you deserve. In other words, you are better than you think you are, and I know this because I’ve seen how godawful foreign men are when it comes to approaching and flirting.

The truth is that an American with tight game is just about impossible to compete with. He’s not a romantic and he’s not a particularly skilled dancer, but boy can he bullshit his way into a girl’s pants.

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Recently, I was at a party, and a man who, like myself, was in his late 40s, arrived with a woman 20 years younger. It took only a few moments of conversation before the rest of the group realized that the two had very little in common. And yet I did not feel the frisson of envy among the men present, nor did I see a bristle of jealousy from any of the stylish, accomplished women in their 40s. In fact, the mood of both genders was tender, almost pitying. The man may have imagined that he was showing off the youth of his date the way he might show off a new Maserati; but parading her around like an acquisition seemed only to make his friends feel sorry for him.

The party, which I imagine to have been stacked with menopausal women and their beta male hanger-ons looking to be thrown a sexual bone, had only one person worth the attention of the entire group: a man who spurned them all by deciding to fulfill his genetic destiny with a woman who could bear his child, not an “accomplished” woman in her 40s who is sterile and incapable of maternal duty.

Wolf’s jealousy can be spotted a mile away by even Stevie Wonder. There is no reason any woman would give a damn about why some man is dating some girl unless she secretly wanted to exchange places with the selected girl, who in this case was written off solely because of her young age.

This opening salvo sets the tone for an article which argues that non-fertile women, whose bodies have the habit of degrading into the shape of a soda can, are actually the best long-term mates for men. Believe it or not, this is what got published in the fifth most read newspaper in the country.

I look around at the magnetic and dynamic women my own age, I look at my own life, and instead that script seems more like a convenient fiction—designed, as so many aspects of “the beauty myth” are, to make women feel less powerful; in this case, just when their power, magnetism and sexuality are at their height.

Wolf knows what you want in a woman better than you know yourself. Forget about all that sexy, feminine crap I’ve been writing about. At the end of a long day at the job, where you’re working long hours for low pay in a strained economy, what you ache to come home to is a… magnetic woman. Magnetism will put a hot meal on the dining room table, it will take care of your kids, and it will give you orgasms in bed. With the addition of being “dynamic,” construction of our dream woman is now complete. I don’t want a woman with concrete sexual skills and homemaking abilities—I want one who can be described with corporate buzzwords that make me feel like I just came out of a bad job interview.

Since [writing The Beauty Myth], many of the issues I warned about have, indeed, gotten worse. The body size of fashion models and starlets has dropped still further; fashion ads showcase women who look as if they should be hospitalized. The technologies of cosmetic surgery have become so commonplace that there are communities in which women with unreconstructed faces are seen as bucking the norm. Breast surgery is almost universal in pornography, and pornography is almost universal in the sexual coming-of-age of both young women and young men; those images now have greater impact than they did when I wrote the book.

Wolf implies that the average American woman is so stupid and suggestible that she’s absolutely powerless to the evil forces of fashion magazines and pornography. She’s saying that a woman will follow just about whatever you put in front of her while having no ability to think on her own, that watching anal gangbangs on RedTube and PornHub is corrupting her soul and turning her into a mindless zombie consumer. In so many words she’s saying that today’s woman doesn’t have the strength to fulfill her womanly duties.

I completely agree with Wolf that women are not fulfilling their duties. To turn the tide, we must protect women from their environment by placing them in isolation cages away from all forms of marketing or entertainment. While they remain locked in those cages we must teach them real skills that further a household, such as dressing nice, cooking, cleaning, staying fit and trim, and child rearing. We must pass laws that forbid women the exposure to anything that doesn’t help strengthen the family unit. The first thing to be forbidden will be feminist propaganda written by childless women who are in all likelihood closeted lesbians.

Let me demonstrate how hypocritical this old broad is. Her book The Beauty Myth was published by HarperCollins, a company that puts out a never-ending supply of cheesy dieting and self-help books. It’s owned by News Corporation, whose 20th Century Fox studio reinforces more gender stereotypes in a single summer movie season that I will in my entire life. They also publish Vogue Magazine, which last time I checked is a fashion magazine that Wolf suggests is steadfastly destroying women.

A more recent book of hers called The Treehouse is published by Simon & Schuster, who just unleashed Eva Scrivo On Beauty onto the world, a book “packed with information on hair, skin care and makeup techniques.” It’s owned by CBS, broadcaster of the Superbowl, which has accepted millions of dollars from GoDaddy whose commercials feature attractive women showing off gigantic breasts. Wolf specifically singles out such breast enhancement culture as a horrible destructor of a woman’s self-esteem yet she is all too quick to show her ample cleavage at public events. It’s easy for her to criticize women trying to get a respectable chest when she already has massive udders.

I honestly don’t care about those GoDaddy commercials, Vogue Magazine, or any dieting book that fleeces women with dubious health advice, but if you’re going to make it your life mission to criticize cultural forces which you believe are destroying women, and at the same time cash royalty checks from those companies while they ejaculate that crap onto the the faces of American women, what does make you? It makes you a hypocrite and a phony.

She criticizes “beauty products” made by companies that supply profits for the companies that pay her. That would be like me publishing a men’s rights book with the same company that also puts out a gender studies textbook that says the only way to eliminate rape is to eliminate men. I should be rightly denounced for such hypocrisy, yet this woman can stay on her ivory tower and put out silly ideas in mainstream publications without being called out on it.

Wolf doesn’t care about women, she just cares about her bank account, her accomplishments, and her speaking engagements that take her around the country. For any woman to hitch her wagon to Wolf would be like a real conservative stroking the balls of Bill O’Reilly. One has to wonder if they even believe half the things they say.

When I am at a social occasion, the showstoppers are no longer the young beauties in their 20s. Rather, those who draw all the light in the room are the women of great accomplishment and personal charisma—and these are usually women in midlife. (Indeed, at events I have attended recently, cadres of conventionally beautiful young women seem now to be treated almost like wallpaper or like the catering staff.)

Can you imagine going to a party where all the men ignore young beautiful women who can still conceive children while going for old woman rejects whose breasts hang down to their waists without the aid of a bra? Can someone at the Washington Post fact-check this anecdote? Actually there is no need. The reason those “young beauties” aren’t getting attention is because they’re already with a man. Old hags have no choice but to desperately wrangle away the spotlight by being “witty” or “engaging” since they’re so desperate to meet someone—anyone—who will stick around for more than a casual encounter. A young woman does not have to try and does not need a multi-page resume listed with her accomplishments. As long as she’s attractive, she just has to be.

The change in social norms around the issue of women’s aging is immense. There is now an influential and growing demographic of educated, well-off women whose status, sense of self-esteem and sexual cachet rise rather than fall as they head toward midlife. I do not see younger women looking at accomplished women in their 40s with pity or derision: I see them looking ahead with admiration and even envy.

I sure don’t see social norms changing, but then again I don’t go to New Yorker-style social functions where feminist hacks lick each other’s pussies. Wolf offers absolutely no evidence to this “immense” change besides anonymous quotes. She provides no numbers to support the “growing” demographic of menopausal women who can get any man they want. Besides younger studs in their early 20s getting seduced by pathetic cougars who pay their bills, I surely don’t see a new paradigm forming that changes what men have done for hundreds of thousands of years. The day I see men of this country tacking on 20 years to the ideal age of women they currently prefer is the day we have evolved into a new species.

And can someone please tell me what “sexual cachet” is? I’m guessing it’s doublespeak for sexual desperation. We’ve arrived at the juncture where modern feminism has been reduced to single women armed with thesauruses. The movement no longer provides any sort of data, evidence, or even the flimsiest of surveys for their assertions. They’re doing nothing more these days but preaching to the choir of undesirable, lost women.

Many older women no longer see younger women as rivals in the same way. “I have empathy for them,” said one 54-year-old psychologist. “I want to mentor younger women, not compete with them,” remarked another friend, a 48-year-old photographer.

Substitute empathy with jealousy and mentor with sabotage and we have the most accurate quote in the article.

Certainly some men my age still date or marry younger, as our friend at the party sought to do; but in my own circles, at least, it is considered more macho for a man to have an accomplished woman his own age on his arm.

This is the first time I’ve seen a feminist use a reverse-shaming technique where she compliments a behavior that only beta males have been performing. If going for a 45-year-old woman is macho then I will never be macho. When I’m 60 years old, alone, decrepit, and staring at a warty dick whose glory days have long since passed, I will be anti-macho by going to Colombia or Thailand to sleep with 18-year-old prostitutes for less than the price of taking a woman like Wolf to dinner with nothing to gain from it except hearing her deluded opinions and mighty accomplishments. Dating a bloated hag like Wolf would put even the most strapping of men on the fast track to viagra dependency.

When I asked my single male peers why they were dating or having relationships with women their own ages rather than younger women, I heard variants of this: “Today, someone isn’t less cool as she gets older. She is just as cool or cooler. And, if a woman is taking care of herself, there isn’t really a difference sexually between a younger and an older woman – except that the older woman is more comfortable with herself and more sure of herself.”

Those men are single for a reason: they are unsuccessful in dating younger, more desirable women. They have no choice but to date their peers. I know of no society in the world where dating 40 and above is macho, preferred, or pleasurable. Such a society only exists in Wolf’s magnetic brain.

By insinutating that older women are so amazing, she strongly presupposes that younger women are stupid and undesirable. Wolf doesn’t really care about feminism or the female gender, she only cares about older women her own age, specifically herself. Her article is nothing more than a diary entry of a bitter spinster who can’t get a man and is jealous of those women who are outperforming her on the dating market. Wolf secretly hates the beautiful 23-year-old former cheerleader who has gotten the commitment from a handsome jock who wants to take care of her for life, since the ship has long since sailed for her to get anything but a sniveling dweeb who couldn’t fuck a 20-something girl to save his life.

So, at the risk of sounding socially incorrect, I am going to deviate from that script, and I invite all women of a certain age to join me. A great many of us don’t feel particularly wistful or rueful about our earlier physical selves. A great many of us really like where we are.

I like where I am.

In the Five Stages of Grief, denial is the first stage. This is where she’s at. Let me sum up the stages for the life of Naomi Wolf:

Denial: “Being old and ugly is beautiful. I can land any man that I desire because I’m a best-selling author, something that men specifically select for.”

Anger: “I keep getting passed on for younger, more beautiful women. Guys only fuck me once or twice and then dump me via text message. Even my Craigslist hookups are not calling me back. This isn’t fair!”

Bargaining: “Come on just give me two more years. I should be able to trick a decent man into marrying me. I’ll go to the beauty salon, I’ll dye my hair weekly. I’ll even cook real meals without using a microwave. I don’t want to die alone!”

Depression: “Wow I don’t believe this has happened to me. I wasted my entire life teaching women to be strong and independent and all that has gotten me is a life of loneliness and isolation. Maybe I should have been nice to all those decent guys who gave me attention instead of dismissing them outright because they didn’t agree with all my crazy beliefs.”

Acceptance: “Time to buy some cats.”

Here is some more evidence she’s in the denial stage:

Sure, I am startled when I forget to put a color rinse in my hair, and I look into the bathroom mirror and see a sheen of gray. But I look at it with a kind of gentle curiosity: So that is what that will be like!

I am overwhelmed with gratitude for a body that can move and hike and swim, seduce and be seduced, be exhilarated and overjoyed, and all of this in the blessing of being free of serious illness.

She found other ladies who are in denial as well:

A 59-year-old teacher said: “I’d rather look great for who I am than try to look 19. I feel happier in my skin than I did when I was younger.”

The most pathetic part of her article is when she tries to rationalizes her declining beauty:

There are many other delightful surprises about being at this stage on the journey. I don’t miss the brutal sexual harassment that young women receive from men—and I love the far gentler flirtation or civil compliments from cab drivers and park chess players my own age or older. On the street, young women are told: Give me some. Older women hear: I love your eyes. That is not a bad trade.

Did you read that? A benefit to aging is that she gets less sexual attention from the opposite sex, and when she does it’s from the creepy guy who sits in the coffee shop all day with stacks of old newspapers (newsflash to Wolf: he tells every woman she has beautiful eyes). Her argument that becoming invisible and undesirable is a good thing is so convincing that I bet hordes of young women are speeding up the process by dyeing their hair grey and tripling their tanning sessions to induce premature wrinkle formation.

Unfortunately for us, her opinions are not invisible as long as publications like the Washington Post give her a voice to spew nonsense onto the masses that I’m hoping fails to convince anyone but older woman who insist on denying the reality of evolution, sexual selection, and human nature. Men do not prefer older women. Men do not care about a woman’s magnetism. Men do not want an overly-opinionated cow who excels only in talking bullshit instead of maintaining a home. Wolf can continue to write articles and books for corporations that push the very culture she claims to be against, but nothing will change the immutable laws of human nature.

Until women realize that their window of opportunity is short for landing a quality man, they will continue wasting their lives thanks to enablers like Wolf, who would rather die in a house that smells like cat urine than see a woman succeed with men when she has so horribly failed.

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I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Because of your awful parenting, average men just like myself are racking up notch counts that even Casanova himself would be jealous of, all from learning a handful of game tricks.

I have performed the job that you have not. When my sister was about 16, I sat her down for “the talk.” I went over human sexual anatomy and contraception, but most importantly I talked about the meaning of sex. Here’s what I told her:

All men are pigs. Yes, even I am a pig. All we want is to have sex with the least amount of effort. We will say anything you want to hear in order to get it. Understand that before sex, you have all the power, but afterwards you have very little. A guy who was jumping over himself to hang out with you will be more nonchalant after sex, like he doesn’t even care.

The only way a man will value you is if you made him put in a lot of investment before sex. The more work he puts in, the less he can rationalize that you were meaningless to him, and the more likely he will continue to pursue because he considers you above the rest. Each man you have sex with that doesn’t call you back will kill a part of your soul, and it’s your job to guard against that. Only have sex with men who earn it.

One last thing. A guy will use every trick in the book not to use a condom. If he tries, he has probably done that on god knows how many women, and those women have done the same on god knows how many men. Don’t turn your body into a petri dish.

You’re probably thinking, “Oh she must really hate men now! She’s probably a lesbian!” And you would be wrong. She is 25-years-old and has had two multi-year relationships with men who have treated her well (her most recent boyfriend took her to a concert of her favorite singer for Valentine’s Day—how sweet). Her relationships have been comfortable, balanced, and based on the mutual sharing of experiences. She’s not out at the bar fucking random guys or getting drunk. She doesn’t lead guys on just to receive text messages. She didn’t flirt with other guys on Facebook behind her boyfriends’ backs. Bottom line is she doesn’t put out like your dirty little whore.

She is absolutely repulsed by the stories I tell her of quickly taking a girl to bed (or car). Her response is along the lines of, “How can they do that? Ewww.” My brainwashing has worked on her, and the truth is she appreciates my lessons. She’s happy not to be like other girls her age, drowning in a shallow life of liquor and anonymous cocks. In fact, I don’t think she’s had sex with more than four or five guys in her life. For a 25-year-old American girl that is an astonishing feat. I will never ask for her count because that would be crossing our brother-sister relationship, but right now I’m reminded of 21-year-old I fucked a few months ago. She couldn’t help but tell me she has already slept with “over 10″ guys, essentially bragging about it. I was probably number 18 or 19, and believe me when I say I didn’t feel at all privileged about fucking her.

By the time that slut is 24 it will be impossible for her not have experienced 30 cocks, but she’s empowered and independent, right? This is what you’ve brought into the world. Needless to say but I didn’t ask her out again. Why should I when I can just text her as I get horny from the bar at 2am? Why would I put in a scrap of work when she rewards me with putting in none?

I didn’t just have one speech with my sister, I hammered things into her brain over several years. I said…

Right now you are in your physical prime. All humans start to degrade after 25, but for women it’s more dramatic since us guys mostly care about looks. We are more shallow than you can possibly imagine. Therefore if you want to get married, you should start thinking about it when you’re 24. It takes a couple years to find a guy and then a couple years more to make sure he’s the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. It’s okay if you don’t want to get married, but if you do, don’t wait until you’re 30. By then it will be too late because you’ll have to compete with younger girls who are still in their prime, and it won’t matter how smart you are if you’re not as pretty as them. After 30 you’ll be forced to settle with a man you wouldn’t even have considered just a couple years prior. And that’s if you’re lucky.

Her last relationship lasted three years. Sucks it didn’t work out, but she has the right idea.

I’ve had a direct influence over her even though I wasn’t her father. I simply told her the facts of life, how things really are, and what she has to do to land a man for a relationship. I told her that while she will see many girls pretending to enjoy fucking guys who don’t give a shit about them, they are not happy. Her time is better spent on making one man happy instead of letting many men use her for short-term sexual pleasure.

If you were a boy instead of a girl, I would tell you something very different. Understand that guys have some sort of “conquest gene.” Sure, sex with someone we love make us generally happy, but conquering a continuous stream of new lands and female bodies really makes us happy. This is why business and statecraft is mostly in the realm of men, who are natural born hunters. We’ve perfected those things. When our little half-brother grows up, the talks I have with him will be very different.

And they have. I’m bringing him out of his shell to be a charming devil that slays pussy left and right. I’d be destroying his life if I told him to seek relationships that end up in marriage, but for my sister marriage is an okay venture to get into, especially in America where family law tilts things in her favor.

I’m wondering why you didn’t teach your daughter these things. Why didn’t you tell her not to fuck a cocky dude that treats her poorly after just a couple hours? Why didn’t you tell her to wrap it up with the random men she goes to bed with? I’m not entirely sure, but I want to sincerely offer my gratitude. You’ve helped create a system where sex is meaningless, and one that I take advantage of every week.

As much as I love going to the sex clinic after an awesome hot streak, I know this isn’t sustainable. I know that I’m living a special time that takes advantage of perverse cultural loopholes, and that nations without a solid family unit will find the chickens coming home to roost sooner than later. Nonetheless, I will jam my dick in your girl and others like her, to enjoy this ride as long as I can.

Thanks again,

Roosh

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What is it about the indirect insinuation of a man’s value that, when combined with a touch of humor and wit, makes a woman decide to sleep with him? I believe this a question that scientists are failing to answer. They’ll go on about physical symmetry and gene fitness and what not but they can’t properly explain why something like humor is almost a universal attractant for Western women. I can see why social proof matters, since it offers a shortcut for a woman to judge a man’s overall desirability, but accomplished sarcasm? Witty banter? Playing Wonderwall on the guitar? Having claimed to live in Iceland without having to actually show any proof? For the continuance of the human species, it’s not clear that those things matter.

Girls weigh those qualities heavily because there are millions and millions of accomplished men in the world who have good jobs, acceptable penis size, and a fine capacity to raise children. Therefore the modern woman is paralyzed from choosing the most “valuable” man to mate with. For her there are too many seemingly equal choices, so she ends up selecting on trivial factors that is a stretch for evolutionary theory to justify. To her she’s selecting on “interesting” or “worthy” qualities, but most men know it’s bullshit, which is why we often roll our eyes when a woman is impressed with another man’s accomplishments that appear rather insignificant.

While a peacock’s ability to maintain those cumbersome feathers is a sign of his toughness, my ability to write a blog or slum it around the world more cheaply than in the States (things that have contributed greatly to me getting laid) offers a less direct link to being worthy of bearing her children. But the fact is that those things are different and scarce, so therefore it has value in the eyes of today’s female. We can bemoan a woman’s selection process, or we can simply find out what they’re selecting for to get sex right now before nerdy scientists figure everything out.

You must simply do things or possess qualities that not a lot of other men have to increase the rate at which you’re selected for sex. It starts with good conversation skills and ends with interesting hobbies or experiences. I’ve long since learned that women don’t fuck me based on what I should have as a man (stable income, bed frame), but what I have that other men don’t. It’s what causes you to stand out, just like the peacock, which determines your sexual results. This is why guys get hooked onto game, a one-size-fits-all ideology that teaches you wit, charm, humor, confidence, and the logistical know-how to get sex, qualities that are cumulatively possessed by not many other men. As popular as you think game is, it’s still being actively practiced by a tiny minority of men, and mastered by few.

This is why today is a glorious day for the gamesman. His feathers are larger and brighter than the others, and until the next generation catches up, he will enjoy more sex than he can handle.

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I will concede that some aspects of feminism are just and proper. Women should have some say of how many children they want, if they want to work, and if they want to get married (and with whom). They should not be held as sex slaves against their will. They should be rewarded based on their skills and accomplishments just like a man should, and equal pay for equal work is reasonable. However, today we have women overreaching and demanding more than their fair share. They want high positions not based on their skills but simply because they are female, continually shoving false “glass-ceiling” and unequal pay myths down our throats. They want courts to subjugate men they divorce for the most trivial of reasons, and they want to put-down and play any man who attempts to form a connection with them using a provider (beta) game that has worked for his most recent ancestors.

Unfortunately there will be no setting back of the clock. As long as women retain suffrage, our politicians will continue to appease them for votes by refusing to scale back anti-man laws. Unfit mothers will continue to keep custody rights while fathers pay support for a child who is brainwashed against him. Single motherhood will increasingly be glorified. And as long as American-style capitalism provides decreasing job opportunities for men, women will continue to excel in mundane office jobs that better suit their social, emotional brains instead of the factory and engineering jobs of the past that provided men with a fair income for his entire family.

I believe that today’s man can still restore his dominion in a world that is skewing against his favor by doing one thing: becoming a sexist. He must possess sexist beliefs for three reasons:

• To have sexual relationships with women who are at least as pretty as he is handsome.
• To assert his superiority over his female competitors in the workplace by playing the office game as well as they do (e.g. constantly bringing up accomplishments to managers, being outspoken, being two-faced, ass-kissing, and backstabbing).
• To get laid at all.

In the past you didn’t have to believe that you were superior to women. The system was set up so that all you had to do was go to school, get a good-paying local job, and ask your mom to put in a good word with the neighbor’s cute daughter. The first girl you fucked would probably be your wife, you’d have your two kids, and you’d live the so-called American dream. Today this is not possible. Your father’s father would be unsuccessful at mating in today’s climate of feminism which has allowed a tiny percentage of alpha men to monopolize the best women. As American women become more obese and gross, there are fewer desirable women left outside of the alpha males’ harems. The nice guy is left with nothing but scraps—and those scraps have attitude.

While it doesn’t look good for you in terms of marriage, at the minimum any educated, employed man in a first-world nation should be able to sleep with a handful of decent women a year. But without having sexist beliefs, he will wholeheartedly struggle in that front. Here’s what it means to be a sexist:

• Having a low level of respect for women.
• Having the belief that the genders are not equal (you should nod or smile at the following quote: “A woman can do anything a man can do, as long as a man first shows her how”).
• Not listening to them about anything.
• Studying flavors of game based on the alpha-male model, an effective countermeasure to feminism.
• Preferring the company of compliant, feminine women of different nationalities where feminism has not made strong inroads (Eastern Europe, Southeast Asia, South America).

You don’t have to hate women and you don’t have to abuse them. You don’t have to commit any crimes against them. But you must believe that you are superior and deserve more than them. With the addition of game practice, you will then be sexually rewarded for those beliefs.

It’s a sad fact that the modern feminist withholds sex from the nice guy, disgusted with his subservience, while servicing the sexist alpha man, increasing his power and rewarding him with more sexual delights than he could have experienced since the days of Itzcoatl. The nice guy is weak and starved, left sexless and alone, a pathetic specimen resigned to the brunt of jokes in beer commercials and crappy sitcoms. If he wants to be procreate, he has no choice but to rise from the ashes a sexist. The more of those beliefs he accepts, the more he’ll get what he wants in the fucked-up world we currently live in.

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I’ve had foreign pussy so inexperienced that I could not get my dick inside them. I just physically couldn’t do the insertion. We’d go to bed and try again later, as if we were training for some type of marathon. That was a strong piece of supporting evidence when they told me I was their third or fourth guy ever (in one case, first!). Sure, maybe some of them lied, but do you know how many times I couldn’t get my dick in an American girl?

Zero.

I always get it in. Usually on the first try with no lubrication, even the petite Americans with bodies like 12-year-old boys. And I’ve fucked a lot more American girls than foreign girls. I don’t even have to do the two or three fingers in the vagina trick to loosen them up—it’s already loose enough for me to get down to business. It’s becoming clear to me why American girls are so obsessed with dick size.

Another possible conclusion is that American guys have big dicks, but in Iceland I noticed that the girls had loose pussies too. It doesn’t take you too long in Iceland to realize that lots of fucking goes on, so therefore I don’t think it’s dick size, especially since I strongly suspect that Icelandic men have small dicks. Unless the girl you’re dealing with has a husky body, I’m ready to conclude that a loose pussy is a warning sign that she has had a lot of cock. While there’s nothing wrong with that, since you’re benefiting from her loose standards, you’d be a fool to wife that up.

With further study my hope is for pussy tightness to be like a canary in a coal mine on the relationship worthiness of a woman. Hopefully an entrepreneur will invent some type of discreet tool so we can objectively measure it while in the bedroom.

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Within any topic a person’s level of expertise will likely fall within three categories:

1. Expert Status
2. Familiarity
3. Unqualified

If I were to pick the topics that I’m an “expert” on, it would be game, American dating culture, and South American travel and dating culture. A conversation in any of those topics may have me teaching my audience some things since few others possess deeper experiences that match mine.

I’m familiar in a handful of other topics, but with those it’s not uncommon for someone to know substantially more than me. I would gladly defer to another man’s more superior grasp of the subject matter by expressing humility and an open mind.

I’m wholly unqualified to discuss things like monogamous relationships, maintaining a marriage, or sports. If those topics come up I completely shut my mouth and nod my head.

The problem with Western women is they pretend they’re an expert on topics that they’re unqualified to talk about. Think for a minute about what the average American woman has expert status on. If she graduated from a regular university and works in the Human Resources department, for example, her expertise would be shuffling papers, conducting job interviews, talking on the telephone for long periods of time, flaking, text messaging, Kim Kardashian, and primetime television. She is probably familiar with dieting, fashion, and whatever subject she majored in college, and then she’s unqualified on everything else. Therefore if she’s trying to assert herself on those other topics, you can safely ignore every word that comes out of her mouth.

A woman thinks after reading a couple articles on Huffington Post she’s qualified to jam public policy down your throat, or that she can competently discuss statecraft. She’ll go to Thailand or Argentina for a week, glance at the abject poverty, hear about a new microlending organization, and then all of a sudden think she’s an expert on geopolitical concerns. She’ll watch some news report on the environment and buy “green” products, urging you to do the same because she thinks she’s saving the world. She’ll read health articles in the New York Times and start making comments as if she’s a trained nutritionist. She’ll go on about the importance of feminism even though you may actually know more about the history of the movement than she does. The epitome of this overreach is your 35-year-old lonely spinster giving relationship advice when we all know the only relationships she’s qualified to discuss are those with felines.

Even a girl’s opinions on friendship, a basic element of humanity, are completely useless. Just about all female friendships are poisoned with jealousy, envy, drama, frequent abandonment, and a neverending series of petty fights and backstabbing that leave the average man scratching his head about where all that anger and disloyalty is coming from. Personal attacks that would stun grown men are weekly occurences in female friendships.

So what’s left? Well, if I’m on a date with a girl I will happily listen to her stories, observational comments, or experiences with a committed hobby she has worked hard on, but the moment she starts trying to preach or educate me on matters she has little true understanding on, I know she has gotten too big for her britches. Too many guys before me allowed her to ramble on about nonsense without telling her to shut the fuck up, and because of that she actually believes that she possesses wisdom or knows how to solve problems like men have done for centuries.

If you peel back the layers of a modern woman, you’ll find that her life’s total education has little real-world application. It’s filled with liberal idealism and pop culture nonsense that has no positive bearing to you or any other man. Never ask a woman for advice on anything besides maybe fashion, and never let a woman influence you with her flawed and shockingly incomplete body of knowledge. Seek out a woman for her beauty, femininity, sexuality, and pleasing, low-maintenance personality, but not for her intelligence. The more of it she thinks she has, the more pompous bullshit you’ll have to put up with.

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I like to think of myself as pragmatic, always aiming for the least amount of harm for all parties involved. Therefore I have concluded that having an eating disorder would be more beneficial to a girl’s health and society as a whole than weighing over 135 pounds. For the past year I have secretly been teaching women private workshops where I give them an eating disorder in order to keep the pounds off. The workshop has finally been optimized to the point where I can now accept public enrollment.

Here is the workshop itinerary:

No Judging Weigh-In: Each girl gets a name tag with her weight on the label instead of her actual name. She’ll then be referred to as that number for the duration of the workshop. For example: “What city are you from, 313? Do you like living there, 313?” The dehumanization process is essential to installing a new belief system.

Friendly Meet & Greet: I encourage each girl to walk me through a normal day in her eating so I can calculate her caloric intake (I will double the food quantity she tells me to arrive at the actual figure). After each response I continue the shaming process by saying, “Holy shit, that is a lot of food! Wow, really… wow.”

Rainbow Vomit Session: Vomiting is the most reliable tool in the weight loss toolbox. In this session I present a huge Chipotle chicken burrito with all the toppings (including the guacamole, which costs extra). I tell her the burrito is a reward for having the initiative to take the workshop. After she inhales it and gives off that satisfying post-burrito burp with vague onion aroma, I say, “You fat hog that was a test, and you failed! Now you’re going to vomit all that shit up because you shouldn’t have eaten that garbage food!” I present her with a bucket and train her how to jam her longest finger all the way her throat and keep going until portions of her previous meal make its appearance.

Food Enjoyment Challenge: I take her to another room where there will be a smorgasbord laid out on a table, with food from each fat group, including, but not limited to, the fried group, the butter group, the cheese group, and the cupcake group. I then lead each girl—with Chipotle vomit still on her chin—directly to the feast and tell her to pick out and eat any one item. She’ll be scared but I will pat her on the back and insist everything is okay, that the smorgasbord is a way to ease her nerves after the intense vomit training.

Once she’s about to put the food in her mouth, I viciously slap her hand and knock the food away. I then repeat the process 1,000 times or until her hand needs to be bandaged, whichever comes first. For the intellectuals out there, this is basic Skinner programming, which has long since been proven effective. I am doing something that her parents should’ve done instead of fattening her up like a cow approaching slaughter.

Tasty Eating Session: Inside the next room is a bowl of brown rice with carrots and broccoli. I instruct her that she must eat only three bowls of day of such food along with a multivitamin. I regale her with heroic stories of people surviving prison camps on meager rations, like how those in the Gulag got along just fine on black bread and gruel.

Sexy Mirror Endurance Challenge: I lead the girl to Room 101, where I rip off all her clothing except for her bra and grannie panties. I place her in front of the mirror and yell out the following insults:

• “Look at these huge rolls all over your body! You don’t even look human!”
• “There are kids starving in Africa and you can’t stop stuffing your fat face!”
• “Stop it! Just stop eating! Jesus fuck!”
• “Just look at what you’ve become! You belong in a fucking zoo, not human society!”
• “You’re so fat you look like a real-life Botero painting!”

I continue the barrage until she breaks down and cries. I’m talking about the blubbering cry where she can hardly breathe and tears are coming out of her eyes, nose, mouth, and anus.

Happy Goodbye Session: By now all the women should be terribly frightful of food (my follow-up reporting shows they don’t eat anything for three days after the workshop, giving them a solid start to sustained weight loss). I go around the room and tell each girl how truly disappointed I am with her appearance and how in one year time if she doesn’t lose weight then she deserves to get a bad case of the gout. Luckily for her, no other diet sees such a high success rate, not even the cookie dough diet.

When I see them again in a year, with their trim bodies, pale skin, and hollowed eyes (from malnutrition perhaps), I offer my congratulations and take advantage of their fragile state by seducing them to bed. It’s no surprise that former fatties make the best girlfriends because they’re in a constant state of fear that you’re going to leave them for someone even skinnier. Even though they have normal weight at this point, I still tell them they’re disgustingly obese to keep them so mentally weak that they can’t resist my demands for ass to mouth and getting banged by carnival midgets while I watch from the closet with a box of tissues.

The workshop costs only $25. I’m shouldering most of the expense because I want to genuinely help fat women. If you’re a fatty who’s interested in taking the workshop, please email me at roosh (at) rooshv.com. Paypal and credit card is accepted.

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