No, it’s simply to reproduce.

Quick—name a female scientist besides Marie Curie. Name a female artist during the Renaissance. Name a famous female architect or Nobel Prize winner. Women have been quiet in the history of the world not because of male privilege, but because they’re not designed to achieve. The advantage that nature has given them concerns solely their appearance.

[Nature] has provided her with superabundant beauty and charm for a few years at the expense of the whole remainder of her life, so that during these years she may so capture the imagination of a man that he is carried away into undertaking to support her honorably in some form or another for the rest of her life, a step he would seem hardly likely to take for purely rational considerations.

A woman loses her beauty during motherhood because it’s superfluous to her existence. For every MILF you encounter there are 100 mothers whose drab appearance would not even breach your consciousness. Western women, through their stupidity and lack of self-control, have rebuked nature’s call of taking advantage of those few years of beauty by staying fat and masculine for their entire lives. It’s too little, too late when she’s unable to attract decent men in her mid 30s or silence the call of her genes telling her to become a mother. She will remain barren, a failure in life.

I’ve always said that even shy and young girls have a competence of game that would rival that of experienced men who are much older. Female game, in the form of cunning, manipulation, lying, and charm, is hard-wired into their genetics. While some men are also born with such skills, most have to learn it through trial and error. Men of the past have found it much easier at becoming skilled at a specific trade and earning money in order to land a wife than to compete with women in the game arena. But when having a good job is no longer sufficient, like it is today, the arduous process of becoming competent at game must be undertaken. The demand for game advice has become so great that it has spawned its own industry in several countries, the first time that has happened in world history.

[Women] are sexus sequior, the inferior second sex in everything respect: one should be indulgent towards their weaknesses, but to pay them honour is ridiculous beyond measure and demeans us even in their eyes.

This is a fact that white knights will never understand. As any game practitioner knows, a woman does not respect you if you respect her. Call this sad or unfortunate but that’s the reality of human nature. Women do not like you if you attribute value to them that is not actually there. Complimenting a woman beyond her appearance, such as on her personality, courage, intelligence, or what have you, is a sure-fire way to not sleep with her. Even complimenting her beauty has become dangerous. Do so at your own peril and be hated by your penis for all eternity.

That the property which has cost men long years of toil and effort, and been won with so much difficulty, should afterwards come into the hands of women, who then, in their lack of reason, squander it in a short time, or otherwise fool it away, is a grievance and a wrong as serious as it common, which should be prevented by limiting the right of women to inherit.

There is a reason why a woman’s vagina was locked up and guarded in ancient times until marriage: she could not be trusted with her sexual choices. Look at a modern woman’s sexual behavior and ask yourself who is gaining from her promiscuity. Alpha men are gaining. She’s wasting the few years of beauty she has to fuck them with absolutely no commitment or strings, and soon will be left alone, without a provider, and nothing to show for her prime years of beauty besides HPV and a bitter attitude. Ancient practices were followed to specifically avoid this outcome, no matter how “misogynist” they are to the modern feminist cunt.

There is no point in wasting any more energy worrying about their plight. They made their bed and will now lie in it while sucking off the alpha she just met in the bar. Having game, being alpha, and understanding the true nature of women allow today’s man to be harem masters of the past. I’m enjoying this party to no end, but one day the music will stop. And then I’ll adapt again.

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2. Makes her proud to be ugly. Go into any middle-of-the-road bar in a major city and what do you see? Overweight women with short hair, loose clothing, and flip-flops. Feminism has taught women that it’s okay for them to look like they just rolled out of bed and that any attempt to look “feminine” will make men desire them for their looks instead of their intellectual and philosophical brains. Evolution laughs. Men are attracted to beauty, and always will be. Next thing you know, American women will appear in public wearing pajamas.

3. Makes them argumentative, uppity, and difficult. Feminism has taught women to “speak your mind,” a euphemism for “bitch about everything.” They can let nothing rest that they even mildly disagree with, and rather start World War III about some insignificant matter than simply biting their tongue and changing the topic.

4. Makes them dependent on global corporations for lifestyle guidance. The feminist message has been co-opted by companies that aim to sell women more crap. Of course corporations love “equality” and having women in the workforce, because they can move more products and increase their profits. Modern day feminists like Naomi Wolf and Jessica Valenti, who try so hard to empower women, get their income from media and publishing companies that are part of global corporations which also put out a neverending shit stream of dubious dieting and exercise books. The main form of empowerment for women today is for them to spend their disposable income on the goods of multinational firms.

5. Makes it exceedingly hard for her to find a life partner that is equal or above to her level. Feminism has given women more money while taking away their biological need to have a family. Because a woman finds it naturally difficult to marry a man of lower means than herself, she simply remains single until death, with nothing but her cats to keep her company when she takes her last breath. Pushing faux equality has created a generation of impoverished men who make unsuitable husbands. Women are making more cash, men have more limited work options, and marriage is on the decline, threatening the very fabric of society. Great job, feminism.

6. Makes her overvalue alpha males, causing her to be pumped and dumped by dozens of suitors. The majority of American men have been brainwashed by the feminist message, making them the most pussified specimen the world has ever seen. The contrast this creates with the minority of alpha men remaining results in a perverse Pareto law where small amounts of men are sexually monopolizing a majority of the women. What will end up happening is that beta males will completely withdraw from the marriage market and into a world of interactive porn and video games. The powers-that-be won’t care as long as the Mexicans are still reproducing and H1B visas are granted to every Indian and Chinese person that applies.

7. Makes them unfit mothers who don’t know how to take care of a household. Have you ever dated an American woman who knows how to cook a meal that doesn’t involve frozen ingredients? If she can’t cook for you, how is she going to cook for your child? She won’t: the corporations will feed your son with their genetically modified foodstuff while she’s busy posting his pictures on Facebook in between nonsensical updates of how women make less than men for the same work. I hope your income is high enough that you can hire a maid or nanny, because American women have no skills or ability to properly raise another human being.

When society eventually does collapse because of feminism, I want to be there to hear the excuses that feminists offer for the decline, especially since they got absolutely everything they wanted. For them to have to face the failings of their utopia vision, to have men simply be unwilling to reproduce, will be similar to the fall of Russian Communism in 1989: unexpected and containing a transition period full of hardship, but with a whole lot of reason to celebrate for those of us who suffered under oppressive rule. I hope I’m alive when it all comes crashing down.

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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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I have found an article that effortlessly ties in all our beliefs. It makes it clear what we stand for while offering one devastating argument after another against feminist thinking. It’s called The Misandry Bubble.

It’s a rational, well-sourced work that explains exactly how men in the West are being destroyed, specifically beta males. The article is long but necessary reading for every male citizen of the United States.

“Beta males who were told to follow a responsible, productive life of conformity found that they were swindled.”

The author describes the climate that gave rise to game and guys like me, even though he gets a bit moral about its application. By teaching you game, I hope that you will avoid a fate that befall many men in America. In case you don’t want to learn game, the article will scare you straight from getting married:

“There are large numbers of middle-class men who were upstanding citizens, who were subjected to divorce against their will, had their children taken from them, pay alimony masked as child support that is so high that many of them have to live out of their cars or with their relatives, and after job loss from economic conditions, are imprisoned simply for running out of money.”

I’ve never seen an article that so thoroughly destroys feminism in one swoop. It made me wish I had written it myself. Some choice quotes:

“The word ‘misogynist’ has expanded to such an extreme that it is the Pavlovian response to anything a ‘feminist’ feels bad about, but cannot articulate in an adult-like manner.”

“The ‘feminist’ media’s attempt to normalize ‘cougarhood’ is evidence of gasping desperation to package failure as a desirable outcome, which will never become mainstream due to sheer biological realities.”

“The obligation of working-age people to support the elderly should not be socialized in order to subsidize women who chose not to reproduce.”

He even cites expatriation as a method to subvert feminism, something I recently hinted at in You Can’t Get Laid In The USA.

I’ll be the first admit this is a depressing article for showing how men have been crushed in the past 40 years, but at the very end he offers hope by predicting the end of the feminist movement. Either feminism dies or it takes the whole of Western society with it. The game will change with its demise, but by that point I’ll be an old man with a duffel bag of Cialis banging teenage prostitutes somewhere in Latin America. I’ll let the next generation figure it out.

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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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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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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 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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Femininity is a quality that pleases men. Therefore from the chart we can deduce that educated women decrease a man’s happiness. A good test to see if a girl is over-educated is to add the word “sexy” before her job title. If the resulting phrase ignites arousing images in your head, then she’ll most likely have what it takes to satisfy you.

Boner Inducing
Sexy waitress
Sexy bartender
Sexy teacher
Sexy librarian
Sexy flight attendant
Sexy PR rep
Sexy actress

On the other hand…

Boner Softening
Sexy IT specialist
Sexy business manager
Sexy tort attorney
Sexy civil engineer
Sexy anesthesiologist
Sexy research associate
Sexy financial analyst

Anything beyond a bachelors at a public university is a near guarantee she’ll possess a large basket of masculine traits that will prevent boners. Unless you’re a latent homosexual, you won’t get many benefits from a relationship with a woman on the right side of the chart.

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So, I’ve been unemployed for quite some time, and as a result my confidence and self-esteem has dropped to an all-time low. I stopped hitting on girls, because I feared a lack of employment would sink every and all interaction. I had it in my head that a girl would never get with a guy who was a jobless bum.

But after reading this post and reading through Bang as a refresher, I was finally able to recoup some of my lost courage and started talking to girls again. But with a few of the girls I’ve been approaching and talking to, I’ve been hit with the dreaded, “So, what do you do?” question. I do the indirect thing and it has worked, but the girls usually know I’m just having fun, and some of them will persist with the question in a smiling, nagging way. Now, if I was shooting for the one night stand, I’d probably never reveal what my job status is, but my game is nowhere near that tight yet, so I usually have to do the 1-3 dates thing.

I have a date set up this Tuesday with one of those girls who persisted in knowing what I do. I’m pretty sure the question will be brought up again sometime during our time together, so I’m trying to figure what I should say. Should I continue to never reveal my unemployment until she just gives up and moves on? Or should i just come out and tell her, “I’m unemployed,” in a stern, direct manner?

When you’re gaming at night, it doesn’t matter if you’re the president of a Fortune 500 company or a model photographer, but you should always be playfully indirect when asked about your job, at about the point where she thinks you’re trying to hide something. The reason is because being evasive and shady builds attraction, while answering honestly and directly decreases attraction. Only after you’ve pulled her chain for a while can you reveal the truth in a way that doesn’t try to impress her.

For example, if you’re a computer programmer, don’t say you’re a “Senior project manager for a defense contractor” unless you want to instantly dry up the pussy. Your first answer should be a made-up profession, like organic farmer or seal hunter, then only afterwards when she insists on knowing the truth can you say something self-depreciative like computer drone, cubicle slave, or office monkey, things you can use for just about every profession. Understand that girls get hit with dozens of fancy job titles every week, and the only way to stand out and show you don’t give a fuck about her is to make yourself appear like a loser. It’s ironic but perfectly contrary, and easy to implement into your game starting right now.

(It’s a little different during day pickups, where you don’t want to discourage a sober girl by being overly aloof. If your conversation is serious and barely playful, give a serious answer.)

If you’re unemployed, think for a second about what other unemployed guys say to girls. I’ll go ahead and tell you—they say “I’m between jobs” or “I’m consulting” or they lie outright and say they’re employed. Wrong, wrong, and wrong. Instead you will look her in the eyes and say “I don’t have a job right now.” Then silence. Don’t qualify it and don’t apologize for it. Let it sink in for a few seconds and then change the subject by asking her, “So what do you do?”

The other irony of game is that the unemployed guy will bang the girl faster than the employed guy. When you don’t hit any of her provider buttons, there is no point for her in waiting to bang you since it’s not like you’re going to take her out to dinner (or anywhere else for that matter). As long as she is attracted to you, your chance of a one-night stand is high. Plus your blunt and self-deprecation made her horny, since no other guy has gone out of his way to not impress her, forcing her to subconsciously conclude that you are indeed a high-value male. But if you go on and on about your important job, raising the prospect that she may get some freebies out of you, she will not give you the one-night stand and you’ll be the chump working for the pussy when I fucked it without any effort.

Bottom line is I stay with my dad while in the States because it doesn’t affect my sex life. If anything, I see a positive effect. When a girl finds out I’m a bum that gives her absolute zero hope of a future or anything for free, she opens her legs in four hours or less. Why should she wait? She’s attracted to me and knows she’s not going to get any additional benefits as time goes on. I become an impulse “purchase” like a candy bar in the grocery checkout line.

The only problem with living at my dad’s is the logistical hurdle of being in the suburbs, which is located 30 minutes driving from the nightlife zone. If I lived next door to my dad’s in my own townhouse, I would not get laid any more than I have during my previous stays there. While living a bit far out from the action has cost me notches, living with my dad never has.

It still boggles my mind how girls simply don’t care what a man’s situation is as long as she’s attracted to him. A lot of haters want to say something like, “Oh well, you only bang the trashy or low-quality girls.” My friends VK and Rookie are witness to some of the gems that got fucked on the floor mattress of my basement room, which you can personally tour in this video. They range in age from 21-32, of differing races, socioeconomic backgrounds, and even nationality. The epitome of dad’s basement game was when a wealthy girl drove me home in her BMW X5 and then loved the floor mattress so much that she wouldn’t stop bugging me afterwards with a barrage of text messages. In that case I was the one who had to cut things off. To build off of Roissy’s saying, 5 minutes of basement-dwelling alpha is worth more than 5 years of beta.

The only time living with your dad may matter is if the girl wants to get married in the next two years, but if that’s the case I guarantee you she is well past her prime and worn hard from a lot of previous alpha fucking. In other words, I wouldn’t even drag those girls back to my dad’s house in the first place. All that really matters with your home is its proximity to the pickup venues. I will be the first to admit that having a place within walking distance of my favorite bar would increase my notch count, but as long as you have an enclosed private space, you’re solidly in the game. As my many car bangs can tell you, even a mattress is superflouous.

Therefore I’m not surprised by a recent article in Slate magazine called Sex Is Cheap: Why young men have the upper hand in bed, even when they’re failing in life. An important quote…

And yet while young men’s failures in life are not penalizing them in the bedroom, their sexual success may, ironically, be hindering their drive to achieve in life. Don’t forget your Freud: Civilization is built on blocked, redirected, and channeled sexual impulse, because men will work for sex. Today’s young men, however, seldom have to. As the authors of last year’s book Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality put it, “Societies in which women have lots of autonomy and authority tend to be decidedly male-friendly, relaxed, tolerant, and plenty sexy.” They’re right. But then try getting men to do anything.

Does it make sense to you why I don’t pony up $1,200 a month for my own studio while in DC? Because I don’t need to. Incredibly, I’m not punished for being a 30-something male “loser” with no stable job, no future prospects, and no proper bed frame. But I have game, and today that’s all you need to get more sex than you can handle. Thank you feminism, for helping create a society where I get more pussy than most of my peers, even though 50 years ago the only sex I’d get is from prostitutes. No other period in human history has been more sexually tilted towards men than the time we live in now. As long as feminists remain deluded in thinking they have the sexual power, this magnificent orgy of casual sex will continue unabated.

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When was the last time you put an Americunt in her place? When was the last time you called out a cockblocker? When was the last time you made fun of her sloppy dress? When was the last time you demanded a woman cook you a proper meal? When was the last time you told her to fuck off with her offensive, masculine attitude? You haven’t done anything, and neither have millions of American men before you. You complain but continue to take abuse, and now she’s after your job. She’s after your livelihood. She’s going to boss you around at work and she’s going to make the rules in the house, and if you don’t like it she’s going to call the authorities to pummel you. You thought she would stop at equality? She wants it all, and she’s gonna get it, because all you’re going to do is cry about it to your friends while swigging back a artisanal microbrew.

I know you rather have women be the target of my rage while you sit there and laugh at however many funny comments I manage to shit out onto my laptop, but if you’re not prepared to look in the mirror and ask what you’re doing to make this country’s women a better species, you deserve nothing but the coldest, most monotone, most asexual Gap-wearing she-man beast who rather watch an episode of some brain-dead fashion reality show with a box of reduced-fat Wheat Thins than suck the life out of your dick.

A couple years ago I had an arrogant thought: “With some of these American girls I’m fucking, I think I should be compensated, either with drinks or cash payment.” I started to believe that American girls were getting more value out of getting fucked by me than I was by fucking them. I tried to put the thought aside but it only intensified with time, finally hitting a crescendo when an attractive but unstable girl traveled to a foreign country to receive my creamy load on a dirty bus. She stalked me in front of grocery stores thereafter, crying and begging me for more dick. Her obsession proved that she was getting a lot more out of the “relationship” than I was.

The only acceptable duty for the female human is to take care of the cock and the casa. Anything else is superfluous and detrimental to the process of life. In exchange, the man provides for her so she’s not required to work. That’s how it’s worked for hundreds of thousands of years, but now we’re supposed to believe that the last 50 years is progress. To me it looks like de-evolution, one that we all have let happen. The most humiliating thing I can think of is having a female boss at work—being ordered by a woman like a dog. And I bet you think that’s okay, just the normal state of affairs. Fuck, I rather be homeless than let a super-sized Hobbit with ankles the size of my neck tell me to follow up with Stan in accounting.

Go against nature and you’ll feel its fury, as childless cougars prowling clubs on the weekends can tell you. It’s inevitable that men will reclaim the throne once again, but due to your unassertiveness, it might not happen until long after you’re dead.

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Here’s a brief timeline summarizing how we got here:

1919
-Women granted right to vote in United States by 19th Amendment.

1960′s
-Rapid rise of feminism followed by female entry into the workforce, a coup for the elite since it kept wages down.

1970′s
-Women drastically ramped up use of their vaginas as sex game weapons, slowly creating demand for counterattack methods.

1980
-How To Pick Up Girls by Eric Weber released.

1990′s
-How to Get the Women You Desire Into Bed by Ross Jeffries released.
-The newsgroup alt.seduction.fast is created.
-Feminized men fight back by participating in the game community in order to better fuck feminists. It remains underground for many years.

Early 2000′s
-Other feminized men complained loudly about feminists and the court system set up to demolish them. These are your men’s rights guys.

2005
-The Game by Neil Strauss released

2010
-Most Western men completely reject feminist notions and have at least a partial understanding of game concepts.

It took many years for the game guys and the men’s rights guys to get some notice. When I was bashing feminism five years ago, I didn’t find other blogs doing the same—it was all done in forums. But now a lot of men sharper than myself are criticizing feminism, and even some women see enough flaws with the ideology that they prefer not being labeled as one. Things said in the past that were called misogynist are now becoming accepted as fact. Progress has been achieved in such a short time, and the backlash will continue as long as most women fail to learn how to please men.

We just need to be careful what we wish for because feminism and easy sex go hand in hand. If it declines then easy pussy will as well. Will this be a good thing for the next generation? Will relationships be more fulfilling? Will women learn how to cook and clean instead of pushing papers in an office? Will men become men again instead of half men who beg for sex from ugly girls? I don’t know the answer to these questions, but I’ve spent a lot of time in a traditional, non-feminist country (Argentina), to know that the alternative of working hard for mediocre sex can be a tough pill to swallow.

Either way, Westerners today are part of an interesting cultural experiment. The men’s right guys are fighting it, unplugging themselves from the Matrix while trying to convince others to do the same. The game guys, on the other hand, are comfortable playing by the current rules for their own hedonistic gain. Changing the world for them just takes energy that could go into fucking.

I’ve long since picked my side because, well, I like sex with different women. I believe that some things aren’t worth saving, and if you don’t like the women here simply import one from another country or go somewhere else. Just not Argentina.

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I will keep her identity secret since it would be a serious dick move to destroy her life, but I will say that she is taking steps to out herself through her blog, such as trying to brag like a groupie how she “personally” knows me and has met Virgle Kent and Roissy. There is a 25% chance she’ll end up posting a hilarious confessional after reading this post and be known forever in D.C. as one of “Roosh’s pump and dumps… who he came inside of.” God knows what exotic disease(s) she has now!

The background to this story is long and boring but all you have to do is grab a drink and read this unedited email that came a few days after I told her never to contact me again. I promise that you will not be disappointed.

to: roosh@rooshv.com
date: Thu, Sep 10, 2009 at 5:38 PM
subject: what’s up sand nigger?

dearest roosh fucking v,

hello pussy, how goes it? you get your say and me not mine? don’t think so.

you waste my time, insult me with lame ass, un-funny humor delivered from an awkwardly skinny, ridiculously hairy body and weak persona…

the nice act that feels pity for all things kind and soft and snugly…nope, not me. an act. I’m from New York, remember? I was raised on harder shit than you could ever throw. but your throwing regurgitated, unoriginal shit stolen from bigger and better apes than yourself did not spur me to be inspired to toss sarcasm and wit your way. why waste this body and brain with my best game, eh?

you’re a child-man. I chuckled nightly to myself with how you had to launch into a character of Borat to exchange words with a girl like me. you’re also a complete idiot because I would have fucked your brains out. free tip: sometimes it will be in your best interest to let the girl lead in bed. I have been fucked hard and right for many years and give the best head this side of the mason-dixie line for sure. we northern girls keep our boyfriend’s cocks warm at night as The Beach Boys sang about. ’tis true.

my answer to your unimaginative, pathetically structured robot hate mode was to be soft and sweet to counterbalance. they say to hug a bully.

you don’t know the first thing about me and you never went deep enough for my pleasure. but I kept quiet as to not scar your tiny manhood that proves itself to be deeply insecure due to the overcompensation of such a large, fake ego. I knew boys like you in high school and they and you reeked of dorky, sweaty, limp-nervous dick and they salivated as I walked by their lockers. I winked and said hi anyway but always dated much older guys because I had already been fucked, pinned down, slapped, spanked and rode up against a wall by real men and could only muster a yawn at the thought of potential sex with those boys. I slow danced with them sometimes and it always took them point two seconds to engorge with just a drift of fermions from my delicate, feminine, graceful neck.

I present myself humbly, quietly, chicly and cross my slender yet shapely legs so that my toe points with elegance to the floor. I am never loud or vulgar but have been unsuccessful in breaking my habit of cussing. I love to swear. It brings me oral satisfaction. I expose just enough skin in my tight clothing to elude to the potential of my sounds in bed and let my gaze linger on those whom I may find interesting. Every detail in the way in which I sit, stand and slither through the crowds is taken from the study of the Geisha, ballet and models.

I get approached so often I am a professional at turning guys down kindly, yet firmly. I am not the prettiest I know, nor am I the most curvy I know, but when watched by men (and I am watched…I can feel eyes on me in every bar, every country, and every public place) long enough they sense the signals of what lays underneath my outer shell. This weeds out the dopes, dorks, boys and tools because they don’t stand a chance. I’ve landed a structural engineer, a financial annalist, an architect/signed musician and a political economist who was published and on television for his work done at Duke University. I play in the big leagues, period. I have high standards. A girl like me doesn’t fuck around because I don’t have to. They come to me. Like I said, my confidence comes from my amazing experiences throughout my life of which I sought out and made happen and from the fact that I’m naturally gifted at singing, dancing, drawing, sports and style. I was not the average girl in school or anywhere for that matter, ever. I graduated with honors, played first singles position on the varsity tennis team and went to state play-offs, was a principle dancer in theatre, headed up the popular click but never followed anyone but myself. I did it with originality and with an artists edge, always. people copied me and they continue to.

I am one part elegant, one part down-to-earth, one part blue-collar raised, one part fashion-ista, one part boho, one part tom-boy, one part sally home-maker, one part girl who fucks you in the bathroom stall, one part girl who makes love to you at a five star hotel soft, sweet and slow with only your pleasure in mind, one part adventurer, one part ballet dancer, one part salsa/ hip shaker, one part mosh-pit jumper, one part punk rocker, one part jazz listener, one part wino, one part club goer, one part take home to meet your mother (while I dirty my knees in your former teenage bedroom behind the door closed), one part analytical, one part emotionally impulsive, one part spontaneous trip taker, one part drug doer, one part health nut, one part yoga instructor, one part older sister, one part faithful girlfriend, one part curious cat, one part explorer, one part designer, one part artist, one part lounge singer, one part care taker…..and always adding to my parts.

you see roosh, we are alike. we are geminis. I can’t stay in one place or with one person due to my inner spirit that calls to grow, evolve and seek. we’ve got one life. that’s why I preach quality. one life so bullshit doesn’t fit into my schedule or plans or time. I seek the best, most complicated and interesting people because I myself have formed me this way. I am a contradiction with passion, heart, mind and body and am searching for the same.

this will be the only time in which I will show an ego. mine is not fake because I truly am fucking cool. always have been too…was born with an inner something that was ripe for the sculpting. I don’t have to carry it on the outside because my quality is real. that’s why the boys stay with me for years. duh.

you’re a clown. you wasted my time and nothing offends me more. grow the fuck up and have real, adult friendships. our trip was a waste. I hate waste. you’re a drama queen and your inner loser leaks out at times. I saw it but gave you the grace of looking away so you could morph back into the actor you are. I bow and all the while I am the higher being. your loss. you live loss and will continue to. so go fuck YOURSELF. I know you have a callused right hand and you only get forgettable, typical and unintelligent girls. I would never claim or brag about the girls you get. you fucking failure.

if you try to pull anything with my personal information I will have you beaten. In all seriousness, I have someone waiting for my check (and I will pay) to hunt you down in Medellin and kick the living shit out of you. I have instructed them to focus on your dick and balls mostly so that you may never reproduce. also: given my group of nerdy friends your blog may come down with a virus that would cause it’s demise. if you go away quietly then noting will happen. my ex is 6’4″ (no kidding, seriously) and out-weighs you by 50lbs and will gladly whoop you mercilessly when you return to DC. I have your mom’s address and I will copy and mail your lovely e-mails along with my sob story to her and beg her to get you psychological help. I will post your photo all over DC and Jorge will post it all over Medellin saying you put drugs in girls drinks and to stay away from you. you are known by the owner now of La Octava and they will be watching you. Jorge’s whole crown including Clara ( who laughed hard at and shared yur line of “I’m 30, doesn’t that scare you?” in which she replied; “my ex boyfriend is 32″ ) know you’re a tool and are laughing hard at your ridiculous blog. you want hate…you got it bitch.

this wasn’t for the last word, you’re more power hungry than I…it was for the truth because your dumb ass never got it.

delete and done.

XXXXX

p.s. I faked my one and only orgasm because I felt sorry for you

She’s a real catch no? That last sentence was like a dagger in my heart!

Just one correction to her email: my line is a tongue-in-cheek “Are you intimidated by older men?” and not “I’m 30, doesn’t that scare you?”

I didn’t respond to this email or others but she continued to write me daily from new email accounts, usually excerpting poetry or quotations from Ayn Rand. (I’ve saved them all in case I need to file a restraining order against her when I return home.) One of her last emails stated:

My love for you knows no boundaries or limitations and I wish to help you find your soul again.

Bunny boiler alert!

Eventually she stopped because my forwarding of her emails must’ve made its way around D.C. and to her friends. I’m guessing they ran a “He’s no good for you girl!” type of intervention, and just like that my daily ego boosts were over. In the end I hold absolutely no ill will towards her and sincerely hope that the psychotic bitch gets the help she needs.

POSTSCRIPT: It has been brought to my attention from a friend that in the comments of her blog she is talking shit about my parents in an attempt to psychoanalyze why I dumped her. I may have to destroy her now. Let me see how my mood is later, but first I have to hit the gym, sunbathe, and then do some laundry.

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Man, on Monday I haven’t seen that much heat on this blog since I told a hipster chick that the band Grizzly Bear was slightly overrated—that one didn’t end well. Roosh wrote something about American women not showing enough interest when it comes to needing men and how the western culture has broken them, and I’m just paraphrasing there but for some reason this got me thinking on my normal chicken and the egg thought process of game and gaming. Now just follow me for a second.

Let’s say you spit game to a pretty girl and she’s very receptive, touching, laughing at all your jokes and at the end she gives you her number. You call in a couple of days and she picks up on the first couple of rings (yes this is DC, shut it). After quick conversation you set up the date and she shows up without flaking or even being “fake late” (yes, still in DC). The date ends with a make out and by date two she let’s you hit (I’m sorry DC, “Beat the pussy up”). Now after that nothing really changes, she hits you right back when you text, picks up phone calls or calls back as soon as she’s available, and sticks with plans. If you want a relationship she’s down, but not too pushy about it. My question is if you had a girl who knew how to “act right” in public or when you’re alone, and was generally a nice girl, would you still use as much game on her as you do with other girls?

By now if you’ve been hitting the DC streets you already know what’s up, you know the truth is that game works best on bitter women who believe that game can’t work on them. The jaded ones who’ve survived and been through oh so much are too wise to fall for silly alpha lines as they’ve developed anti-game to combat your game. These women are the ones who are serially pumped and dumped. Since women like this are too messed up to have relationships with once you’re anti-game radar goes off, go for the notch and be out faster than Snooki’s vagina when a Tiesto beat comes on (what is that beef jerky).

Although we could blame Western culture on the bitter girl who chose the pursuit of career, education and weight gain over not settling with a reasonable guy early, understand that the first girl who responded well to all your advances without putting up much of a front is the same girl at one who is ice cold and jaded—they are just at different times in their lives.

Guys get so used to running game all the time that it almost becomes a dating crutch. A script we follow down to the exact detail. If you overgame a girl who is open and already into you you’re just making it harder for the next guy that comes along after you because now he’s going to have to game her twice as hard. It compounds and builds and by the end she hates herself for liking guys like you. Gaming never really goes away but I do think there are certain times it’s not needed as much as one thinks.

This does remind me of this one time last year back when Roosh was being stalked by this psycho poetry chick that wrote a Valerie Solanas type S.C.U.M Manifesto. At Brazilian night on a Thursday I met one of her girls—she had an Israeli vibe going on and a phatty you could see from the front. I got her phone number and the next night she invited me to stop by her coffee shop where she would be working. She brings up Roosh and goes on to start talking all this shit about him. “That guy is such an asshole, he’s so pathetic, all that game shit doesn’t work, no real girl would give him the time of day, what a loser, blah blah blah blah.” By then she already knew about his blog from poetry girl.

I sat quietly and let her run her mouth for a minute or two enjoying my free food until I smiled and asked how long she’s worked at this coffee shop. She said a couple of years. I asked if she was working here sometime back last Spring and she said yes. I told her I remembered her because Roosh and I used to come in on Saturdays and sit in her section to get some work done. The reason I remembered was because Roosh flirted with her and got her number using standard waitress game, with lines he had used many times before. Her face turned bright red as she had honestly forgot and she was so genuinely embarrassed she begged for me not to mention anything back to Roosh.

There’s a lesson in that one somewhere.

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—

“Everyone keeps asking me that and I wish I had a quick, powerful answer, but it comes down to two things: wanting to explore, something I think most men want to do, and wanting to get away from the American way of life. I really can’t say which one motivates me more to be here.

“In America you go to college, which you’re told is supposed to be the most fun years of life, and then you get a job taking orders from some pencil dick in this grand mission to chase money and accumulate stuff. I don’t need stuff—all I need in life is a laptop and good speakers. I’ll be happy anywhere because it’ll keep me busy. I can write, read, listen to music, stay in touch with friends and family… I don’t need more than that. Now I date girls young enough who think that type of lifestyle is ‘cool,’ but if I ever want to have a family some day I’ll probably have to make some changes.

“I don’t want to work 40 hours a week doing the same thing to be insulted with a 3% raise and a pat on the head every year. I don’t want to count down the days to the weekend where I punish my liver because my week was so lifeless. I don’t want to wait until Saturday to take a book to a coffee shop and lose track of time. In college they should sit you down on your first day and say: ‘Ladies and gentleman, your mission in life is to make the days of the week irrelevant.’ What day is today? I don’t know. Days of the week are bar and club names for me now, places I know are good. Sunday: Casa Rosa. Wednesday: Casa da Matriz. Thursday: Democratica. Saturday: Rio Scenarium. I feel like I’ve made it because I don’t care what day it is.

“Americans are lazy but they’re not. When it comes to money they’ll work like fucking mules. You’ll never see someone put in as many hours as an American, kiss ass like an American. They’ll do anything to make that extra dollar to get that plasma television or dine in some frou-frou restaurant that got a good review by some idiot on the internet. They’ll grin and take it in the ass when the boss asks them to stay in on Saturday morning a month before performance reviews are due. They will work and barely complain when you tell them they can’t take a long vacation. Hell, even if you give them a lot of time off they wouldn’t know what to do with it. They’ll take a trip to the Caribbean or some pre-programmed cruise to be trapped with a bunch of whales, one handshake from projectile diarrhea.

“When it comes to anything else Americans don’t want to lift a finger. I mean look at heath care. Americans think it’s pills and MRIs. Why aren’t many people connecting the dots between the American diet and health care? Americans eat like pigs, look like pigs, get sick with diabetes, heart disease, god knows what else, and then complain that health care is too expensive. Their lifestyle makes it expensive. Don’t get me wrong I believe the government should provide free health care for its citizens, but exercising four times a week is my health care. Eating vegetables, cooking all my meals, avoiding junk food, drugs, stress—that’s my health care. I probably spend more hours a week on my health than on making money. Americans don’t cook or simply take care of themselves because they’re too tired from making money. They want to pop pills with side effects to keep eating ‘comfort’ food and sit on their asses. After putting in a tough eight hours or more with the man that’s all they have the energy to do.

“And the women… ‘I don’t need a man. I’m independent. I don’t need a man, I got my own money, my own job. I don’t need a man.’ The result is that an American girl thinks it’s weakness to show a man how much she needs him. I don’t know if you had a corporate job in Denmark, but dating an American woman is like dealing with coworkers. They’re very careful with what they say. Every laugh is meticulously orchestrated—she must’ve laugh too hard now or you may think she thinks you’re funny. Every word’s use was analyzed and judged—she mustn’t show too much interest because that’s weakness. ‘Shit I just showed too much interest I have to be cold now—let me make fun of him about something.’ I’m lucky I’ve spent enough time down here to know that that simply isn’t real. That’s not how women, as in women of the human race, really are. Those American girls are basically programmed to be more distant than their nature. And they wonder why they’re so unhappy. Nature is a powerful thing, and you’ll always lose when you go against it.

“The other night I went out with this Brazilian girl. Very cute girl, a few years younger than me. It was our second date and we went out to some gringo bar and after our first drink she looks at me and says, ‘If you were leaving back to America right now, I’d come with you. I’d take a chance and do it.’ Other Brazilian girls have done and said similar ‘weak’ things, and Colombian girls as well. And that’s real, because the nature of a woman is she needs a man. These girls here understand that. They don’t hide it, and I don’t punish them for it. A girl that knows she needs a man, that that’s the point of her existence, will treat men very well. She’ll pleasure him, make him happy, hold onto him a little tighter at night. You think an American girl will ever say something like that?! If I tell an American girl some of the things that the girls down here have said to me, she’ll be shocked, ‘But but that goes against the book! They’re showing too much interest! They’re showing weakness!’

“You remember that American girl I brought back a couple weeks ago? Okay I know I’m in Brazil and fucking an American girl looks bad, but truth is American girls have become perfectly designed for easy, meaningless sex. It’s like one step above jerking off… no emotions, just business—like getting with a prostitute. It takes just three hours to get them in bed, and you’re fucking her for the first time and she says cunt this, cock that, like she’s in a porno movie, because she watches that too. I just met the bitch and she’s moaning that she likes how much I’m beating her pussy up! Look that’s fun, like how jerking off with your left hand is fun, but it’s not normal. A normal girl will be quiet the first time, will be self-conscious, will wonder if she’s pleasing you properly or not.

“The Western culture has broken the women. A girl wakes up and she’s 30 and has no man and no hope for a man, yet she already passed on several who didn’t give her the tinglies or butterflies in her stomach or whatever the fuck term she uses. Because of course the culture gave them this sense of entitlement as well, to think that with mediocre looks and ten extra pounds they can get a hot stud like they see in the magazines in line at the grocery store. And then they get old and have to compete with younger and prettier girls. They can’t win. They won’t. So what do they do? They throw themselves on young guys who still value older women as ‘experienced’ and ‘mature.’ But those guys age and get a clue, and then you see the woman going on 40, working hard at the gym, desperately trying to fight the sag, bragging that she fucked this college guy. What a miserable existence.

“My parents aren’t American but in the end I’m a product of that culture and it takes a lot of time and effort to fight the programming —to do what nature intended you to do. Unfortunately I think I’ll always be tethered to America. My family is there and I can’t even talk to my mom on the phone without her guilting me into coming back and taking care of her, even though she doesn’t need taken care of. I don’t know… I’m going to go back and the first month is going to be great with my family, and my friends, and then after that they’ll be nothing for me. I don’t fit in there, and I don’t exactly fit in anywhere else either. What am I going to do in the States—get an American girlfriend? Get a 9-5? Fuck that. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

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My parents divorced when I was 8, and for the next twelve years or so I visited my dad two nights a week. So when I got out of college, I was only 30% man. With much time, determination, and sex with different women, I have been able to become 99% man (yeah, I like myself a good snuggle from time to time), but it would have been a hell of a lot easier if I had a constant male influence in my life. Unfortunately many guys have been raised by their fathers but they might as well be fatherless—their dads didn’t teach them shit, sometimes because they didn’t quite know how to be a man themselves. This has happened because Western society has not demanded that men act like men.

I got to see a sad example of single motherdom in Pipa, Brazil, a small beach town in the Northern coast. There was an Italian mother and her 8-year-old boy traveling with the grandmother and aunt. Three women, zero men. They put a long rainbow-colored tassel in his almost shoulder-length hair and a piece of woven jewelry around his tiny ankle. They indulged his every whine without teaching him things like sports, play fighting, and smashing objects. He copied their feminine ways of speaking and the poolside sight of my hairy body nearly scared him to death—he literally trembled with fear like someone had dropped him into the lion sanctuary at the zoo. I’m absolutely certain this adorable little boy will be a huge fag when he gets older. Now how is that not child abuse?

While there’s nothing wrong with being gay (except the doing it in each other’s butts part), you must accept that homosexuality is on the deviant side of nature. The Italian mother was actually married when she had the future sausage jockey, but many Western women who have failed in love will be having kids using sperm donors. These self-absorbed women do not care that they are destroying a human life as long as they can attempt to relieve the immense emptiness in their lives, caused by chasing that cheddar in the corporate office instead of pleasing a real man who could fertilize her BPA-tainted eggs with a child. Thanks to their actions, society will be filled with a billion gays who wear tassels in their hair. And guys like myself will have the burden of having a lot of sex with the remaining women who are still wired to want a man who treats them like shit.

I guess this is all working out quite well for me then.

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American women get their unique behavior from culture. This includes televison, higher education, corporate wage slavery, and the trappings of consumerism. Our culture teaches women that they are equal to men and can achieve anything that men can achieve. I’m not going to argue whether this is true or not (it’s not), but what must logically follow? That women become like men. Here is the consequence:

You will see that the American woman has aquired what I call the Essence Of Man. Her neverending quest for equality has indeed worked, for a part of a man’s brain has sprouted inside their own. Understand: American women are hermaphroditic when it comes to their behavior, personality, and attitude. When you date an American woman, you are dating a part-man and not a true woman. For that you actually need to go abroad.

The American culture, unfortunately, is in the process of exporting (i.e. polluting) other nations. It’s just a matter of time until the Brazilian girl, for example, is corrupted with similar thoughts of equality and masculinity. Already in some of their brains, especially upper class Brazilian girls, you may have an Essence Of Man speck—just a little area of degeneration that flares up every now and then like a stubborn cyst, but nothing that warrants emergency attention. The American woman is infected with an uncurable metastatic cancer. The doctor can only offer palliative care.

When a man leans over to the feminine side, as we saw with the somewhat recent metrosexual trend, his sexuality is rightfully questioned. But when a woman leans over the masculine side, she’s praised as independent, ambitious, and strong—a go-getter who successfully “made” it. Every now you’ll find a man who wants those latter qualities in a woman, and it’s because something perverse has happened: the American culture has masculized the woman and feminized the man. It has caused the man to seek out qualities that for millenia were exclusively desired by females. Within his brain is the Essence Of Woman.

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Let’s take a closer look:

I turned and the man started asking me if he could have my number to call me sometime. I politely explained that I am married and hoped that would be the end of it (it never is!). He then proceeded to ask me if I would go to happy hour with him and his friend. (Sounds like a really great, safe idea, right? Ugh.) Again, I politely told him that I would not jeopardize my marriage under any circumstances.

Another:

The older man standing next to me leaned over and said, “You have two weapons on you, do you know that?” I ignore him. He says, “Your legs – those are your weapons.” I look right at him and say, “I don’t appreciate it when you make comments about my legs, you don’t even know me.” He shakes his head at me just as the light changes. As a walk down the escalator at the U Street metro I see him harass another woman.

Don’t be fooled by the attention whoring of these women: they like getting cat called. If you read through the blog you will see many cases where the women encouraged the men by responding back and answering questions. They have an innate need of wanting to be desired by the opposite sex, but their logical brain has to account for the feminist brainwashing that is guiding their current life choices. The end result is a behavior of writing in to some retarded blog to chart “harassment,” also known as human fucking nature.

Since it’s rare to see hogs getting cat called, my guess is these feminists at least have a pretty face or body. Let’s say the girls look something like this…

Not bad, but in short time she is going to look like this:

No amount of spray-on tanning, salon haircuts, or organic food will prevent this painful transition. Please prepare yourself for upper arms the size of papayas.

How many times do you think the girls will get cat calls in ten years? Zero. It simply will not happen. She will be invisible to the eyes of man, a non-entity, and that’s when I guarantee you she will miss the days when stocky Latinos considered her a sexual creature.

The one thing that bothers me most is the amount of control these women hope to strangle life with. Now they want attention only when they give permission. It’s not enough that men need consent to engage in hetero sexual relations, but today’s feminist wants to play God in simply who gets to exchange words with them in public. If it’s not in a way that she deems inappropriate, then it’s an unlawful, arrestable defense. Feminists want to make bad pick-up lines punishable by jail time. Take a minute to imagine how it would be like to have a relationship with these types of women.

“Stop giving me those googly eyes. We’re not having sex tonight!”

“Ouch stop pulling my hair. Treat me with the respect I deserve!”

“Don’t peel the carrot so deeply. The skin is not that thick! You’re wasting perfectly good carrot idiot!”

Holla Back girls, just be patient. Your “problem” will rectify itself, and soon enough absolutely no man will desire you except the sorry sap of a husband you’ve learned to dread having sex with.

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