Danish women possess no flirting ability. They have zero charm and zero allure. Not a feminine drop of blood courses through their veins. They don’t know how to treat you well, cook for you, or make you laugh. They don’t know how to look sexy. They won’t defer to your masculinity. They can fuck you, but no more. What they do have are pussies and opinions you really don’t care about hearing. That’s it. Denmark takes top prize for having the most unfeminine and androgynous robotic women I’ve met in the world.

Since she’s unable to flirt, a Danish girl doesn’t know how to show interest, and thinks that doing so would be showing weakness. She won’t go out of her way to make you feel like a man. She’s just… there, wasting space in a bar that could be better used by the cute foreign hookers mingling right outside.

Speaking of hookers, I’m not exaggerating when I say they are more charming than Danish girls. They consistently made me smile. On lonely walks home when they approached me for my money, they said things ten times funnier than anything I heard from a Danish girl.

If you’re stuck in Copenhagen and want something that reminds you of what a woman should be, your best bet is to find a foreign girl who has been in Denmark for less than one year. Otherwise you’ll get yourself a corrupted specimen of a woman that will make you less happy than your run-of-the-mill American girl who insists on wearing flip-flops twenty-four hours a day. It’s that bad.

Even the Danish girls who have somehow escaped the corrupting influence of the androgynous culture (she’ll probably be from Jutland) will have some random masculine quality that fucks everything up. She’ll look good from across the bar, maybe even slightly sexy, but when you interact with her you’ll discover that she has a deep voice. Or she has man hands. Or she moves like a man. Or she has a slight mustache. Or she is arrogant like a man. I’ve met girls in Denmark who were more masculine than me, and I’m the hairiest, horniest motherfucker I know. I’m barely exaggerating when I say that mimicking Danish women has taught me how me to be a stronger man.

Initially a Danish girl will be somewhat reserved, but it takes no more than fifteen minutes for her true outspoken nature to shine. Since a Danish girl thinks she’s an expert on everything, be prepared to get educated on matters your feeble brain can’t possibly comprehend. You’re going to hear the wackiest, most liberal opinions you’ve ever heard in your life (e.g., “The state should supply and inject heroin addicts with pure drug in a safe environment that is also provided by the state”). Take the most liberal shit you learned in college and multiply it by fifty to get a feeling for what you’re going to hear in Denmark.

If you don’t want to bang a Danish girl, disagree with her. While this may build attraction with American girls, for Danish girls it completely shuts off the pussy faucet. They want the role of the alpha while you’re left with the role of the dopey beta. Therefore if you want sex you’re best served by simply nodding or asking her more questions so that she talks enough to make your ears bleed. You will hate yourself for doing this.

If you don’t like a girl, just question what she says, tell her she’s wrong, and enjoy the argument. In Denmark, the girl is always right and it’s the guy’s job to validate her stupid beliefs long enough to get her into bed. Again, while in America, nodding along won’t get you laid, in Denmark it will. She wants an obedient little puppy dog, not a challenge who sees her as the idiot she really is.

Danish girls don’t like masculinity, cockiness, or outspoken guys. Because of Jante Law, any attempt on your part to even indirectly show that you’re more experienced, knowledgeable, or smarter than her will terminate the interaction. Even if you’re definitely more experienced than her (she’s likely to only be a student, after all), you must pretend that you’re both equal. I don’t care if you’re ten years older than her and have lived in a dozen locations around the world after succeeding at a million-dollar business built from scratch, but you must treat the stupid opinions of a 23-year-old Danish girl with reverence and respect if you want to get laid. In other words, you have to sell yourself out for pussy.

Yes, I did this. I sold out. I nodded along to a stupid girl’s opinions to get laid. I feel ashamed for doing it, but I got my nut every time and never called any of those girls again. Maybe I did come out on top a little.

A big problem is that just about everything offends a Danish girl, especially if you make casual observations about her culture, whether positive or negative. She doesn’t believe in stereotypes or generalizations at all. She has the belief that everyone is a completely unique snowflake and any attempt to generalize is wrong and offensive. The irony of this is that Danish people are so incredibly homogenous and alike due to Denmark being a strong conformist culture that they’re the easiest people to generalize about. When girls told me not to generalize, and I noticed that they were basically carbon copies of one another, I concluded it was a case of the lady doth protest too much. If you interact with one Danish girl, you might as well have interacted with them all.

The thing that pissed me off the most about Danish women was their hypocrisy. Like I’ve mentioned previously, they will bash anything non-Danish, expecting you to sit there and take it, but the moment you make even a mild criticism about their culture, they’re ready to call the police.

For example, it was common for a Danish girl to joke that Americans like cheeseburgers and French fries. She’s indirectly saying that Americans are fat. I get it, and I don’t care, because Americans are fat and I personally love cheeseburgers and French fries. I would counter her observation with one of my own by saying, “We love hamburgers, but you guys like the kebabs. Those places are everywhere.” Pretty innocuous comment, right? Wrong. The Danish girl gets offended and counters with, “No, Danish food culture is quite varied. You’re not looking hard enough to find other places.” Really, bitch? There would be no less than four kebab shacks within a stone’s throw.

There are so many kebab shacks in Copenhagen that if an alien landed in Denmark he’d conclude that kebabs, shawarmas, and gyros have been Danish cuisine staples for thousands of years. I’d ask Danish people what their typical cuisine is and they’d give me an answer like “thick wheat bread with meat on it.” In other words, sandwiches. Yeah, real indigenous. They’d rather die than admit that a “stupid American” got them pegged.

It’s the girls’ denial of reality (in exchange for an ultra-liberal worldview) that made it least enjoyable to spend time with them. They use conversation as a way to display the superiority of their beliefs, not hesitating for a second to immediately strike down anything you say. While she has a right to do that, the real-world effect is that blood rushes out of your penis. Talking to a Danish girl has the same effect on your dick as going for a dip in a cold swimming pool.

I could bite my lip for a couple hours just to get my dick wet, but the second after I ejaculated I could no longer put up with it. This means that I didn’t get one repeat bang during my entire stay in Denmark, simply because I couldn’t tolerate the girls any longer.

I had to “reset” my tolerability clock by hitting on new pussy, which unfortunately was almost exactly the same as old pussy. I was miserable. I dealt with my predicament by offending as many girls as I could and getting them ensnared in my “you’re a hypocrite” trap. My favorite bit was to say how Danish girls were the least feminine I’ve ever met and how I couldn’t wait to leave such an androgynous country. I got more satisfaction from bitching out Danish girls than actually fucking them, because one made me feel like a man and the other a pathetic sellout.

Sadly, the dynamic of insulting girls instead of banging them was similar to what I had with American girls, though at least the latter liked masculine, outspoken guys. If you’re a sniveling beta male, Denmark could be your heaven since you have the vibe that Danish girls like, but if you respect yourself and have trouble keeping your mouth shut when people are bullshitting you, Denmark will not be pleasant.

—

In my early 20s I had a dream of traveling the world without having to answer to anyone. I wanted to wake up at noon, work at my own pace, and sleep with a lot of women. It took over a decade of combined effort on both my game and writing, but I have realized that dream. Today I am free, and besides the occasional hurdle, sex is no longer a problem. It almost feels strange to me that it ever was.

I should have unbridled happiness flowing from my pores, but truth is my life today brings me contentment, not bliss. I’ve gotten used to this lifestyle and see it as normal. Only when I think back ten years do I appreciate how far I’ve come.

I’ve become a man without goals. I don’t need more notches or a higher income. I don’t want a family (right now). I don’t want a smartphone or tablet device. Besides a couple of countries I want to visit in the future, there is nothing else I want. What should I try to achieve next?

I’ve meditated about this problem a lot for the past couple months. My thoughts kept going back to the pussy I had in Poland, where my penis reached the then pinnacle of its existence. I don’t need any more notches, that’s for sure, but I can’t think of anything else that keeps my mind sharper and my masculinity stronger than chasing pink. The day-to-day adventures of pussy chasing keeps me young, vigorous, and fully engaged in life. Being a slave to the pussy has made me a warrior. I’m miles ahead of the sexual pack when compared to my male peers of the world, whose approach to getting laid is based more on luck and hope than concerted effort and strategy.

If pussy is my fountain of youth, it is clear what my new mission in life must be. It was under my nose all along, something I must have known was the answer but could not admit to myself. Here is what I wrote almost a year ago:

Within a country there is a city that has a bar that contains a spot where you will be in disbelief at how easy it is to consistently get quality women, regardless of how many flaws you think you have. On this 3 foot by 3 foot patch of space you’re an unstoppable rebel force, though for the guy standing next to you the patch does absolutely nothing because it’s not his patch. It is your duty as a man to find out where that little patch of Earth is and reap the rewards that it contains.

Ironically enough, I titled the post “Your Duty As A Man.” At the time my duty was slightly different, just to travel through Europe and fuck around, not to find this magical patch, this pussy paradise. I wanted to meander through Europe and accumulate random experiences and flags. Then Poland happened, and that plan no longer made any sense after I realized that a consistent stream of high-quality pussy profoundly affected my immediate happiness in a positive way. The feeling that comes from being unstoppable with the women was like natural heroin. Every night in Poland I’d go to sleep with a little smirk on my face, ready to die in peace, even if I was alone in bed.

It’s finally obvious what I have to do. My mission today is to find a place that exceeds Poland. My goal in life is to find pussy paradise.

I want to be in a place where if I step outside and take a deep breath, pussy will come. I want to walk in a huge club and be the most desirable man who women compete over. I want zero-effort pussy of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever had in my life. Maybe you’re laughing right now that I’m dreaming, that this place doesn’t exist, but I believe it does, and sometimes belief is all it takes.

Before a man searches for pussy paradise, he must understand its transient nature. Nothing stays paradise forever. They’re like once in a millenia tsunamis that occur after a convergence of unlikely factors, never to be seen again in a location for many generations. In two recent countries I visited, Estonia and Latvia, I saw the scattered ruins of the paradise that existed before me. Stories from those who remembered its peak suggested great riches and glory to all those men who visited, but I was too little too late (actually five years too late). With the rapid societal changes that globalization brings, I estimate a 1-3 year window until emergent pussy paradises fade, with the only thing left for late arrivals is the smell of faint pussy juice in the air.

When you stay on the road you start to develop a sixth sense for where pussy paradise may be. You look at a city name that you’ve never seen and have a feeling that this could be it. Then you dedicate a lot of time and resources to investigate further, only to be likely disappointed. In my hand I hold yet another losing lottery ticket, but the jackpot continues to grow and I still believe in my numbers. I will find pussy paradise, no matter how long it takes me.

Danish girls have thick, stout builds, with Pepsi can bodies and faces that have come into contact with every branch of the ugly tree. They rank up there with the women of Fortaleza, Brazil, as the huskiest women I’ve ever seen. If you want to have a football player son, I advise you to procreate with a Danish woman. While they’re not as fat as American women (who is?), they’re definitely not as svelte as their Icelandic counterparts, who can be a little thick themselves.

You’d think they’d be thinner with all that bicycling they do, but they overcompensate with frequent late-night kebab meals and an all-around fatty diet. Just like in America, it’s not proper to shame fatties into not being so fat, so Danish people are more likely to attribute someone’s disgusting obesity to a glandular problem than from constantly stuffing their pie hole.

I’m still in disbelief that the women of a country can be so ugly. Copenhagen is one of the few large cities I’ve been in the world where I can go several days without seeing an approachable chick. This was also the case in Bolivia, a place where my dick simply powered down due to lack of arousal.

While you’ll still spot cute chicks in the city (somewhere), the average Danish girl is both undatable and unfuckable. You won’t be wowed by the women and you won’t be changing your travel plans to stay longer. The few girls that are decent looking know they’re relatively beautiful and have large flocks of guys surrounding them. The worst part of this is that Danish guys are actually much better looking than the girls. The result is a surplus of good-looking dudes and a limited supply of hot girls. That means that guys are forced to date down.

It was routine to see decent-looking Danish guys with busted Danish girls, but never the other way around. If I saw a hot Danish girl with a man, he’d always be very good-looking. Unlike girls in Brazil or Poland, there’s no reason for a Danish girl to date down because the sexual market is heavily skewed in her favor. Denmark is one of those places like Washington DC where you have to work like a fucking mule to get a 6. The same amount of work in Brazil or Poland would get you an 8.

One feature of the Danish girl that bothered me the most was her masculine walking style. She keeps her arms still while hunching her shoulders over like a wild boar, as if she wants to barrel into something. Sometimes she tilts her head down to add to the masculine effect. I don’t know where they learned how to walk, but I can assure you it’s not feminine. Denmark is the only place where I got out of the way on the sidewalk if a thick girl was approaching, for fear that I might be injured in a possible collision.

Their tits are of respectable size, but their asses are pancakes, not helped by their love of jeans so baggy that they often have to pull them up. If you’re an ass man like myself, you’ll be in tears by your second night in Denmark. The fine asses you do end up seeing will probably be owned by a non-Danish girl.

The hottest girls are usually mixed breed daughters of Middle Eastern immigrants. If she’s good-looking and has a bit of olive in her, you can bet that she’s Danish in culture only. While most foreign girls in Denmark live a normal middle class lifestyle, many are prostitutes shipped in from Africa or Eastern Europe. They walk the streets at night in Copenhagen’s Vesterbro neighborhood, where prostitution laws aren’t enforced. In Denmark they tend to punish the johns instead of the whores, since the girl is an “unfortunate victim of her environment.”

In every country I’ve been to, prostitutes are bottom of the barrel. They’re almost always ugly, filthy whores who would have to pay me to have sex with them. While for the most part this is true in Copenhagen, there were a shocking number of streetwalkers that blew away the Danish women. The hottest girl I saw in my first five days was a sexy Middle Eastern prostitute who walked like a normal woman. I couldn’t believe that such an attractive girl had to sell her body. How did she arrive at that predicament? Why couldn’t she get a sugar daddy? How much did she charge, anyway?

Later, when I moved into my apartment, a Russian prostitute working in front was usually hotter than all the girls I’d see during a night out. Believe me when I say I was tempted. It seems that in Denmark the hottest girl a guy can get is a prostitute, while in the States the prostitutes serve mostly to provide orgasms. When streetwalkers are hotter than the local women, something is very wrong.

Even the style of Danish women is atrocious. They dress frumpy and dumpy, as if they just checked out of a homeless shelter. For some reason, these girls are big fans of dirty black military-style boots, turd-green or brown jackets (sometimes with a German flag on it), loose clothing, baggy jeans or MC Hammer parachute pants, and mismatched scarves or grandma shawls. Their favorite color is brown, since anything feminine like pink is sexist and breaks Jante Law. They step up their style game at night, but during the day they look like absolute hell. There seems to be a competition on how plain and unattractive they can make themselves.

For an idea of what I’m talking about, check out the blog Hel Looks, a site where some guy takes street photos of people in Helsinki, the capital of Finland. Though the country is different, people dress the same.

On the site you’ll notice odd hair styles that are similar to Denmark, as well. Many Danish girls go to a salon and say, “Shave the sides, but leave a bit in the middle.” I would estimate that 10-15% of girls have some part of her head shaved, usually only one side. If they elected not to shave it, they sometimes slick it back like in the Robert Palmer music video “Addicted To Love.” But even the girls in that video, who were designed to look like emotionless sexbots, are fifty times more bangable than your typical Danish girl.

I have painted a picture of ugly-faced women with thick bodies, flat asses, short (or no) hair, military styling, and a walk that makes you want to get out of the way. In summary, Danish girls would make fine soldiers. Even though Denmark is not a militant nation, if World War III breaks out, the government can call upon these female Scandinavian warriors to fight for their country. Since they’re not busy looking like real women, they’ll find adapting to life in the army most agreeable. If you like rough and tumble army chicks who can possibly open a beer bottle using their hands (and not look sexy doing it), Denmark is the place for you.

—

The Danish system of equality is amplified by Jante Law, a set of cultural rules that is deeply engrained in every Dane. Its main tenet can be summed up as: “No one is superior to anyone else.”

It’s taboo to show off, brag, or even indirectly show your value. You can’t talk about how much you enjoy your job, how you bought an awesome brand new anything, or how generally happy you are with life—anything that might show how you may be better than your audience. When you disagree with someone, you have to be very gentle about criticizing them because otherwise you would imply that you’re smarter. You can never say “you’re wrong” to anyone. Most Danes avoid possible arguments by simply not bringing up their contrary opinions.

Here are the ten rules of Jante Law:

1. Don’t think you’re anything special.
2. Don’t think you’re as good as us.
3. Don’t think you’re smarter than us.
4. Don’t convince yourself that you’re better than us.
5. Don’t think you know more than us.
6. Don’t think you are more important than us.
7. Don’t think you are good at anything.
8. Don’t laugh at us.
9. Don’t think anyone cares about you.
10. Don’t think you can teach us anything.

Take a minute to think about the resulting personalities of people who believe in these rules. Combine it with Danes not being risk takers. Can you imagine the type of conversations that result?

Painfully boring conversations.

Everyone is scared of generalizing or giving strong opinions. Risky topics are avoided. Showing knowledge or experience must be done in a light-handed way. All your accomplishments, no matter how small, must be minimized to make them a result of luck instead of hard work or innate talent. You can’t judge those who are less fortunate than you by calling them lazy or stupid. You’re immediately punished for showing any real spark or emotion. You must hide your individuality and conform to what society expects of you.

The Danish egalitarian system and Jante Law feed on each other to form what is one of the most liberal, feminist-friendly societies in the world. Therefore, when it comes to getting laid, your American attitude and belief system will cockblock the fuck out of you before you even open your mouth. Since basically the entire point of game is showing you’re better than the next guy, something that Jante Law specifically forbids, it’s no surprise to find that game efforts will not be well received in Denmark, especially if you consider yourself an alpha male. It was amusing how often and how quickly I’d offend every Danish girl without even trying.

In the States you may have heard someone say, “If the police want to get you, they will. There are so many laws on the books that you’re always breaking one at any point.” I feel the same way with Jante Law. As an American, you’re breaking every facet of Jante Law just by being American. Your confident body language alone is breaking tenets one and four. Understand that Danish culture will cockblock you on your every approach.

Even minor game techniques go over poorly in Denmark. For example, let’s take a look at this statement: “When I was in Colombia for six months, I studied Spanish. I got good at it, but now I suck again.” A pretty innocent way to show value to a girl, right? Not in Denmark. I’m implying that I’m more well-traveled than her and also more knowledgeable in the realm of language. I’m breaking Jante Law. The girl will punish me by withdrawing from the conversation.

You’re probably thinking that this is absurd. That’s because you’re from a country like America, England, Australia, or Canada, where that type of statement will be rewarded with female interest. The conversation you’re supposed to have in Denmark should be void of these types of “value drops” while at the same time not teasing her at all, since teasing implies that you’re better than her. Consider that even wearing a tight t-shirt that shows off your muscles comes close to breaking Jante Law because you’re bragging that you’re stronger than someone else. In Denmark, individuality must be destroyed for the greater good. You’re not an individual, just a worthless slug that is just like all the other slugs.

While the Danish government has made human rights more egalitarian, Jante Law has made sex more egalitarian. Instead of a few guys fucking all the women like in the States (while the sexual losers stay home and play World of Warcraft), you have more Danish guys getting laid, though with fewer partners. In other words, the alpha male is neutralized in Denmark. He’s not rewarded with more sex for his alphaness because alphaness breaks Jante Law.

If you were in a country where game didn’t really matter and everyone downplayed their attractiveness by looking like they had just come out of a thrift store, which man would fuck the most women? Answer: the one with the best social circle.

My biggest complaint about Jante Law is that there is a double standard in how it’s applied. I’ve already remarked how Denmark is a highly feminist country. It’s a place where women think they’re equal or superior to men, eager to castrate them for displays of alpha masculinity. So can you take a guess as to which gender will be hypocrites when it comes to the law’s application?

Danish women are the most hypocritical breed of female I have ever encountered. Let me give you an example. In conversations, I would make a comment about how Danish women aren’t feminine or that the state shouldn’t be so eager to take care of drug addicts who have no interest in quitting. I was then scolded for having “expectations” of how people should or shouldn’t act and that I was attributing a person’s faults to his nature instead of his environment. Fair enough—that was their argument and I can respect another person’s opinion.

Then five minutes later, I’d say I was going to Poland. The Danish girl would frown and say, “Why Poland? The people there are ugly. Polish girls are dirty prostitutes.” Really? You just got on me for generalizing, but now you’re doing it five times worse. This happened to me at least a couple of times each week.

You’re not allowed to criticize Denmark or their way of life, since you’re just a stupid, possibly fat American, but she can criticize anything she wants while shitting on your opinion at the same time. This angered me to no end, and the fact that Danish women ended up being so wrong about Polish women suggests they hold some jealousy towards them.

I’ve come to the conclusion that Jante Law has two real purposes. The first is to hold men down. It serves to cherish women and their opinions and hypocrisy while preventing you from “fighting” back. A girl can break Jante Law but you can’t, and if you do, you’ll be banished from the tribe. This is a classic case of women demanding equality but then perpetuating inequality to further their cause at the expense of men’s.

The second feature of Jante Law is to keep your neighbor down. If there is no benefit for your neighbor to show off his unique character, experience, or wealth, that means he’ll be more ashamed about doing better in life than you. Jante Law is like an anti-bragging behavioral modification drug meant to make people who aren’t as skilled or successful as you feel better about themselves.

What Jante Law ultimately does is protect the egos of women and the unambitious who constantly feel the need to compare their lot with everyone else’s. While I approve of the benefits the government gives to all its citizens, Jante Law is something I can’t live with. Unfortunately, we have to accept that they go hand-in-hand, that we can’t fulfill basic human rights for all without viewing everyone as equal. That’s fine for most people, but I’ve spent way too much time happily surviving in the jungle to pack my bags and move into the zoo.

—

Denmark is one of those countries that saw glory several hundred years ago, lost its power, and then reinvented itself into a mostly pacifist nanny state. Thanks to its participation in the NATO alliance, Denmark has reasonably low military expenditures that—with its high tax rates—allow it to divert funds into social programs, in which it ranks among the best in the world.

The Danish welfare state is admirable: every citizen receives fully covered cradle-to-grave services. A Danish person has no idea what it feels like to not have medical care or free access to university education. They have no fear of becoming homeless or permanently jobless. The government’s soothing hand will catch everyone as they fall. To an American like myself, brainwashed to believe that you need to earn things like basic health care or education by working your ass off, it was quite a shock.

The biggest surprise was that the Danish government pays people to attend university for both undergraduate and graduate degrees. In addition to having health care costs covered and access to cheap rent, all students receive at least a $1,000 a month stipend to attend class. Along with part-time jobs that pay high wages, the average Danish twenty-something lives a pretty comfortable life getting educated to eventually follow a straightforward career path in a country where nearly full employment seems to be the rule.

Even if you don’t get a job, the government will pay you each month until you do. Do you feel like taking a little hiatus to a foreign country? As long as you can show you’re taking part-time classes, the government will keep the cash flowing. For a lower-class American, becoming a Danish citizen is almost like winning the lottery.

How is Denmark able to afford this? Two ways: they spend a third less of their GDP on the military than we do, and they tax the hell out of their citizens. Tax rates start at 40% and tilt above 50% for the top classes. My effective tax rate last year as an American resident was 20%, so the question I’ve asked myself is if I’d want to double my tax for not having to worry about being homeless or getting a serious disease. I’m leaning towards no, since of course one day I’m going to be a billionaire like every other American and don’t want half of it taken away. I would actually save money by being taxed at 20% and getting private health insurance, but then again I’m middle-class and can afford it. America is great if you have money, but Denmark is great for everyone.

What surprised me most about Denmark is their healthy job market. It’s almost guaranteed that a job will await every Dane after graduation, and I’m not talking about crappy jobs at McDonald’s or Walmart, but well-paying career positions. After taxes and the exorbitant high prices for basic goods, Danish people still live comfortably. No one is starving and you’ll have to look hard to find homeless people.

It’s no accident that the American media isn’t eager to discuss the many citizen benefits that countries like Denmark have. They are quick to do profiles on poor countries in the third-world, but they rarely write about the extensive services Scandinavian countries provide for all of their citizens, regardless of race or class. When they do talk about these countries, it’s usually about how budget cuts are looming for their “ailing” social models, as if the average American citizen is doing far better.

Unfortunately, there is a cost to providing your citizens everything they possibly need: you make them averse to taking risks. Why bother when you got it made in the shade? There is little incentive for entrepreneurship and striking it rich, even though the Ease of Doing Business Index ranks Denmark as number six, only one behind America. Danes would rather work for the man and do the minimum required of them to coast through the system than take a gamble. Being aggressive and taking risks may cost them some serious benefits, so they do what they need to in order to maintain a decent middle-class existence. While I don’t blame them, this mildly offends the entrepreneurial spirit within my American core.

The Government’s Role As Mother And Father

Thanks to its extensive services, the Danish government has replaced parents as the primary caregiver. The Danes decided that there was too much inequality in the system with the rich having access to all the benefits, so they constructed an egalitarian society. The government’s utopian visionaries told parents, “You don’t have to do anything but love your children. We’ll take care of the rest. Oh, and when you get old, we’ll take care of you, too.”

Since family is pushed out of the picture, one consequence is that Danish people very seldom talk about their families. I never saw a 20- or 30-something Danish adult with an elderly person, whereas in Poland I saw it a dozen times a day. The old people are pushed aside to be taken care of by the system, not by the kids, the opposite of what I saw in South America where the elders are cherished, often living in the same household as the younger generations. I’d bet that the average Danish person interacts with the government more than with their parents.

Another consequence of the Danish system is that women no longer need men. For hundreds of thousands of years, women have sought to marry powerful men with strong financial means in order to live a comfortable life (or to merely survive), but in Denmark this is not at all necessary. Danish women don’t need to find a man, because the government will take care of her and her cats, whether she is successful at dating or not. Her quality of life won’t be negatively affected if she happens to remain single until death, whereupon her cats will inherit her possessions according to Danish law.

Since a Danish woman is in no rush to find someone, she wants to hold out for her top choice instead of having to “settle” for any particular man while she’s still in her physical prime. The result is that Danish women like to sample men and play the field, thinking they have all the time in the world. They’re also less willing to change their behavior by adopting a pleasing figure or style that’s more likely to attract men. It’s no surprise that there’s a flood of sloppy 30-something women on dating sites, making Denmark one of the most popular countries where the Internet is used to find a mate.

In spite of the negatives, I think the Danish economic and welfare system is superior to the American system for one simple reason: it’s fair. They have achieved a near utopia of human equality, where everyone can educate themselves and seek employment without fear of possible bankruptcy from illness. Even the mentally decrepit and drug addicted are treated like human beings, meaning that everyone has an opportunity to rise up above their station. In the United States we have a bad habit of kicking people when they’re down. Watching people fall, especially the famous, is almost a national sport, but in Denmark, they put out a strong hand to help you back onto your feet.

I liken the United States to a jungle where everyone must fend for themselves. A lot of people don’t make it, but the ones that do can roam the land freely and suck on its glorious fruit. On the other hand, Denmark is like a pleasant zoo with scheduled feeding times and twenty-four-hour veterinarian care. While I’d prefer the American system if I was on top of the food chain, the average human being would be better served by the Danish system.

—

I’ve been to every country in South America except for the three that no one ever goes to (Suriname, French Guiana, and Guyana). From my 17 months of experience there, these are the four trips I’m recommending if you only have time for a two-week vacation…

The Newbie Trip (Argentina)

Itinerary: 7 days in Buenos Aires and 7 days in Cordoba

Why You Should Go: The country is relatively safe and has lots of sights, making it a great place to break your South American cherry. Most importantly, it has women that will wow you, especially if you’re coming from fat America. Tourist infrastructure is well-developed and easy to use, though beginner Spanish will make your trip more enjoyable.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: There’s a high chance you won’t get laid.

Buenos Aires

The Easy Grenades & Old Rocks Trip (Peru)

Itinerary: 7 days in Lima and 7 days in Cuzco, the launching point for Machu Picchu

Why You Should Go: It’s cheap as hell, the archaeological sites will keep you busy, and Peruvian women think the white man is god, making it an ideal trip for game beginners to get their feet wet with flagging (as long as they’re not too picky).

Why You Shouldn’t Go: Women are generally ugly and you’ll probably get a foodborne illness.

Machu Picchu

Fun In The Sun Trip (Brazil)

Itinerary: 7 days in Rio de Janeiro and 7 days in Florianopolis

Why You Should Go: Assuming you visit during our winter (December-March), you’ll enjoy nice beaches while trying to bang sexy women. Brazilian culture is by far the most exciting and colorful in South America.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: It’s expensive and the women are becoming increasingly snobby.

Ipanema

Nonstop Game Trip (Colombia)

Itinerary: 7 days in Bogotá and 7 days in Medellin

Why You Should Go: Colombia is made for 24-7 approaching, particularly during the day and on the internet. If you go hard you should be able to pick up a couple notches.

Why You Shouldn’t Go: Girls are flakey and don’t speak much English. Conversational Spanish is somewhat required.

Colombian ass

South America is a huge continent and offers dozens of additional cities that are worth a visit, but I believe the above four itineraries are best for guys who don’t have a whole lot of time for long-term exploration. They’ll give you good experience for future trips within the continent.

For more tips on good travel locations, check out my travel forum.

This will be my last post about Iceland.

After writing guides for three South American countries, and getting no local reaction besides a few hater comments on my blog, I was expecting more of the same when I released Bang Iceland. Instead, every major Icelandic media outlet reported about the book. Because the coverage was almost universally negative, for one week in November I was the most hated foreigner in Iceland.

Click here to view the timeline of how it all went down.

I received dozens of negative messages that included the occasional threat of being beat up if I choose to return to the island. A few said that I broke a law and would be pursued across Europe (one guy said I committed copyright infringement by using the Icelandic flag on the cover). The coverage jumped the shark when Iceland’s largest feminist organization denounced me via their morbidly obese spokesperson. In a case of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” the responses then turned slightly in my favor since apparently a vocal minority of the Icelandic population hate feminists.

I was in Poland when this was happening. I’m not shy of attention, but I began to get nervous and paranoid when the stories started coming in. I felt vulnerable that an entire country was against me, and wondered if they would use their power to crush me in some way (Julian Assange?). I asked my sister for advice and she said to stand up tall and attack them back, but by that time the coverage waned and Icelandic life went back to normal.

The irony of Iceland’s reaction is that it was far more intense than less progressive or liberal countries I’ve written about. It appears that the more fat feminists a country has, the more angry the populace will be when it comes to game teachings that help men how to sleep with women. Have you forgotten the mockery that Neil Strauss and Mystery had to endure when The Game came out in the States six years ago? While cliche PUAs are a sideshow for most, feminist countries particularly don’t like it when you teach anything that helps men get what they want from women.

Last year Colin from the Expat Chronicles was questioned by the Colombian government after his writings exposed some uncomfortable truths in that country. Locals only want you to write about how great their country is, not that the women like fucking foreign men, the country is a shithole, or that government agents are corrupt. In the case of Iceland, they didn’t want me saying that Icelandic girls were sluts. Icelanders, the shyest people I’ve ever met, gathered their courage on internet forums and Facebook to make fun of my appearance, call me a liar, say I was a typical American idiot, and threaten me with bogus laws so I’d “unpublish” the book, all while those instant bangs that I accurately described still went down every Friday and Saturday night in Reykjavik. Iceland calls itself a “global haven for free speech,” but the minute something was published that didn’t suck their dick, they were calling for censorship.

I will be releasing Don’t Bang Denmark in a couple weeks. While I don’t expect a shitshorm like I got from proud little Iceland, I have to accept the possibility that I may not be able to happily return to countries that strongly disagree with my writings. The wave of rage from Iceland has actually followed me into the Baltics, with local sites spreading “warning” calls of my arrival as if I was a dangerous serial killer. Sadly, when it comes to men chasing skirts, Europe’s views are a couple decades behind America.

One reason that Reykjavik nightlife is so active is that the outlying suburbs have so few venues. On the weekends you get hordes of people coming into the city that you don’t normally see, which is why you shouldn’t freak out if you don’t see any talent walking around mid-week. Disclaimer aside, here is my top 5 list for guys looking to peep Icelandic women…

1. Bakkus (Tryggvagata 22). This is the best bar in Iceland to get laid. The main floor has two bars and a large dance floor, while the bottom floor has a small bar and a tighter space for seating. I’d classify it as a rock dive bar, but it regularly plays house music and will feel more like a regular club. The girls aren’t the hottest in Iceland, but they are young and friendly.

What I’d do is arrive on a weekend night around 3:00 a.m. and hang out in the downstairs bar. It doesn’t get a whole lot of traffic, allowing you to save your energy for prime time (last call), but if a girl does come within your radar you can easily start a conversation since it’s quieter than upstairs. If a cute girl is giving you eye contact, definitely don’t be shy about approaching. I don’t want you to get the idea that you shouldn’t approach at all before last call; it’s just not essential to work hard before that time.

Around 4:30, which is a half hour before last call, go upstairs and lean against the main bar while looking out toward the crowd. It’s then you should start to approach. Since so many girls will be drunk off their ass, don’t be offended if she doesn’t respond (it’s not that she’s trying to be a bitch, but she’s having trouble with her sensory perceptions). Pick off isolated girls who were trying to get a drink in the bar, but don’t shy away from pairs since it will be easy to divide them. Try for the occasional triplet, though don’t waste your time on larger groups unless you’re getting serious eye contact.

When the lights come on, continue to approach girls who are meandering out until finally getting kicked out by the bouncer. Continue approaching in front of the bar and then on the streets until no girls can be found.

2. Austur (Austurstraeti 7). This club definitely attracts an older crowd, sometimes women in their thirties, but they’ll be more aggressive in showing their interest as they get just as shitfaced as their younger counterparts. The strange thing here is that there was a big disparity on how I was treated (either the women were awesomely friendly or just plain nasty). The music is top 40 and the drinks are expensive ($9 for a crappy beer). The best spot for chatting up girls is on the right side along the main bar.

3. b5 (Bankastraeti 5) is a compact venue that gets insanely crowded. This is hands down the craziest club I’ve ever been to in my life. Even though everyone is dressed wonderfully, with girls in heels and tight clothing and every guy in some type of suit, they are completely committed to getting blackout drunk.

There is constant pushing and shoving. Drinks get spilled everywhere. People fall on the floor and are unable to get up. Girls dance on the couch and then fall on top of people. Guys are itchy to get into fights. Girls pass out cold while friends try to wake them up by slapping them in the face. Thanks to the incompetent bouncers, it’s basically anarchy inside, and in any other country this spot would be shut down in a week. Now imagine that scene while everyone is dressed like they’re going to a formal function.

The biggest problem with b5 is that it’s extremely hard to pick up in. People tend to come here in mega-large groups so each girl is going to know at least ten people, causing your approaches to be constantly interrupted. Since it’s impossible to have a conversation, unless you like “clubbing” and plan to dance the night away, it won’t be a fruitful spot. If you’re a bar guy like me, you’ll be running for the door within an hour.

Above all other venues, it’s crucial to get to b5 early. The line outside, if you want to call it that, would offend the sensibilities of any bouncer. Line cutting is the rule and people actually rush the bouncers to get in, as if trying to escape from a fire. If you want to go, and I think you should for the experience, get there before 1:00 and then sit back and wait for the mayhem to commence.

4. Bar 11 (Hverfisgata 18). Thanks to their beer-and-shot combo special, young people go here to get seriously trashed, making Bar 11 one of the sloppiest bars in Reykjavik. The main issue is that it’s a bit small so you won’t have a lot of selection. Nonetheless, a lot of hookups go down here.

5. Kaffibarinn (Bergstadastraeti 1). This trendy bar, which is co-owned by the singer of Blur, attracts an older crowd with an average age pushing twenty five. I’ll admit that I wish this was Bakkus. I love the music, the back bar, the “scene,” and what have you, but there are two big problems. First, the girls are snobbier here than anywhere else. This bar attracts the famous musicians, writers, and people from the Icelandic fashion industry and art scene. The front of the bar has a line for commoners who have to face up to thirty-minute waits while “VIPs” are whisked right in. You can still pull here, but it’s more of a “who you know” type of vibe than anywhere else in Reykjavik. The second problem is that sometimes it’s a huge sausage fest, something that’s not a problem elsewhere. Now that I think about it, I really wasted a lot of time here.