Open Letter To Poetry Girl

Dear Poetry Girl,

Reading your comments in yesterday’s post pleased me. I’m happy to see that you still think about me, even in hateful terms, because it’s a testament to the strong bond we had going until you found out about my blog.

Do you remember the night we met? You were wearing a yamaka and dancing wildly with your friends in order to get attention from horny men. I leaned against the bar with my drink and watched from a distance, unsure if I wanted to make my presence known. I’ll be honest: I wasn’t struck by your beauty initially—probably not as much as other men in the club—but there was something indescribable about your presence, your vibe, that piqued my interest.

When you eventually came to the bar I made a comment, not one that can be found in my book Bang, which teaches men how to have sex with piles of female bodies, but a spur of the moment insight that related to what was happening in that particular moment of space-time. We went off to the side away from the disapproving stares of your friends, and sparks flew. You touched my beard and I casually placed my hand on your hip, bringing you to within inches of my face. How my loins longed for you! Your silky as shit black hair and your endearing freckles. Your sweet-smelling supple skin that only a 22-year-old of half-white and half-Asian descent could have. I told you that I was leaving in a month and I could see the crack develop in your heart, but the smile returned to your face when I said I’d be back soon in time for those snuggly winter nights where we would curl up next to each other by my dad’s fireplace to sip on fair-trade hot cocoa.

How many minutes passed until our lips first touched? It couldn’t have been more than fifteen. The passion was too great, the lust too wild. You told me about 58 times that you don’t make out with guys in bars, so imagine how special I felt to be slobbering all over your face, caressing your soft butterfly lips with mine. I wanted to pleasure you that night but alas it was not meant to be, for your friend couldn’t drive twenty minutes to her home and instead had to spend the night with you.

I think you’ll agree that our first date got off to a rough start when you dared challenge one of my views on life. I let it go as a glitch in the matrix, but you had the audacity to rebut me a second time within earshot of other human beings. I realized that you had a bit of trouble understanding how gender roles work. I poked and I prodded and out it comes that you have been utterly and hopelessly brainwashed by the feminist movement. What a waste of such a pretty little face! Do some research and you will find the only reason women get into feminism is because they can’t find a real man to properly ramrod them. Think about it for just one minute. If a woman was getting the good dick every night, would she waste time with other women who bitch and moan about other men? Of course not.

Then you dropped the bomb that you spend a significant portion of your life writing poetry. That’s when my heart cracked. I knew that even if I wasn’t going to Ethiopia to feed skeletal-like African children, the odds we’d make it past five dates would be extremely low. The reason is simply because your views and drama would come to be about as pleasurable as visits to the tooth removal doctor. But we had the unbridled, wanton passion! Unbridled! Wanton! It would last us as long as it took for us to make sweet love.

Or so I thought.

At the end of that first date I gently weaseled my way into your bedroom. I didn’t have to twist your arm. You wanted my masculine, hairy body pressed against yours, and what was it you said at the bar? Don’t be shy. You said I was irresistible. Yes, do you remember that? I was flattered and still am. In fact you made my ego so big that I have to walk into doorways sideways now.

You wouldn’t let me hit that night on your bed. You wouldn’t even stroke my dick through my boxers. You have little idea of its well-proportioned head to shaft ratio and the ridiculously strong bulging vein on the underside. I think it’s because you’re not a slut (snicker—just kidding!). I was ready to wait as long as it took to get to date three when I was certain to hit, but it never happened because you found out about my blog and jumped to conclusions. You hate Bang. I see that know, but the funny thing is, Poetry Girl, I didn’t use any game on you. Read my book to prove this to yourself. I didn’t have to. You gamed me and I just held on for the ride. Don’t deny it.

Look at what you’ve done to me. It’s Wednesday night and I’m typing out this hopelessly romantic missive! Oh Poetry Girl, I just don’t want to give up on you. Give me one more chance. Let’s go on a coffee shop date and reignite that spark. Then let me beat that pussy up.

Love,

Roosh

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Anonymous
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you are a great man.

Firepower
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Firepower
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even rationally, there should be a happy medium between the sexes – between loving and fucking etc.

As time passes, I really think there is none.

when we all get fat old and gray, this will seem all like a foolish, time-wasting dream.

Benedict Smith
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good point about the feminists, reminds me of something Ted Nugent said: Feminists just don’t get it….as much as they should.

Benedict Smith’s last blog post: Wednesday = Mystery Date/Hungover at work Volume: 1,283,980.

Anon
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Anon
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‘yamaka’ = yarmulke

Asian Poetry
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Asian Poetry
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Wow Roosh I’d love too…you’re so romantic!!

(not really poetry girl)

Chase
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Chase
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yo that’s hilarious! i remember we tried coming up with nicknames for her, like the Asian Jew, yamaka girl, yamaka Asian… none of em really worked. Poetry Girl… too generic haha.

Slam Girl Who Won't Let You Slam It
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Slam Girl Who Won't Let You Slam It
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Roosh, we went to the same bar, and we shared many interesting conversations. You were that unsure-of-whether-to-approach guy and I was that awkward Japenese-Jewish American Princess slutting the floor for attention. You probably remember me. Anyway my friend about your blog. I don’t believe what I’m reading, and how sexist you are with your fake alpha male persona. You were a good person back when we met, but from reading this I just don’t know. Even your writing has suffered, and these advertisements lead me to believe you’re just about the money. The reason I look at your blog because I wanted to hang out with you again and maybe even romantically date you, but now I don’t think so. You’ve turned into someone I no longer know or want to know. Whereas before I’d buy anything written by you, there is no way I’m going to buy your disgusting, overanalytical fuck guide, and I will tell everyone I know not to buy it as well. Do yourself a favor: get back on track, get out of your dad’s basement, stop being a gay loser beta douche, and re-enter modern society with a nice paying job. You’re capable of so much more.

Stunner
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Stunner
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haha awesome!

Ethan
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Ethan
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JERRY!!! JERRY!!! JERRY!!!

virgle kent
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OMG…

First off I’m trade marking a T-shirt that says,

“Give good dick… help stop the spread of feminism” FOR REALZZZ

Second, on your second date with her might I suggest a ski mask and a condom.. if you’re going to get 3 to 5 you might as well do it right, nah mean?

Third I googled her apparently she’s not who you thought she was…. check it out she’s known as the Hipster Grifter, she on the run dude… Read about it

http://gawker.com/5212970/meet-kari-ferrell-criminally-hipster

The G Manifesto
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Wow.

“Bang” is becoming as controversial as The Satanic Verses. I really need to finish it.

Roosh, it actually seems like this girl has some flavor to her.

Don’t make war. Swoop her.

– MPM

The G Manifesto’s last blog post: K’naan: Why We Don’t Condemn Our Pirates.

Chuck
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I have a question for the poetry girl for something she wrote yesterday.

Concerning “rape”:

so if my dick is halfway in, and you like it and want me to keep going, its not rape?

but if i put my dick in all the way and rough up your cervix a little, and you don’t like it, and tell me so, but i accidently bump your cervix again, it could be called rape?

i mean there is just too much grey area here for one guy to handle. i need some clarification.

perhaps you could write a tome about this subject from a feminist perspective…i won’t buy it, but somebody might….

you can call it “Banged!”

Chuck’s last blog post: Conservatives Need to Unwad Their Panties: Vast Left-Wing Conspiracy Edition.

spaceman
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spaceman
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lolololol

RJS
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RJS
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I bought Roosh’s book and took his course and it got me lady. I’m telling everyone I know to buy it.

Lee
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Lee
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“ridiculously strong bulging vien on the underside”

Yeah. Me too.

roissy
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roissy
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:drama:

it’s like christmas morning two days in a row!

poetry girl is the type of chick who will marry some herb in her early 30s, hate herself for it, and one day while gazing out the kitchen window watching her beta provider husband mow the lawn, she will sigh heavily and her mind will drift to thoughts of you from so long ago, and her pussy will get wet for the first time in ten years.

and I will tell everyone I know not to buy it as well.

expect a surge in sales.

roissy’s last blog post: Arnie.

Traveller
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“…awkward Japenese-Jewish American Princess…”

No WAY! A Japanese-Jew? Wouldn’t that make you Jap-squared?

Ben Kenobi
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Ben Kenobi
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Bravo.

Virgin Poster
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Virgin Poster
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My feeling is that Roosh got bored watching porn in the basement decided to develop an imaginary relationship with a hybrid fem-bot creatureâ�¦at first the relationship was hot and steamy, but like all things in Roosh’s mind it quickly plunged towards the negative, which thankfully provided more blog fodder. Well done my friend, well done – I love how you wrote about it and then pretended that she wrote back – that was an unexpected twist from your normal blog-whines. April Fools prank 15 days late, but we all fell for it!

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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lol so much for trust…. and we didn’t land on the moon either did we?

Eugenius
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Eugenius
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Hahahaha…..this is great….you knocked it out of the park Roosh this totally made me laugh.

JAP squared……I still cant stop laughing

The fact that she and her Virgin Poster friend felt so strongly to respond shows how hurt she really is…..

(Roosh) 8 – (Dusty peach fuz) 0

Slam Girl Who Won't Let You Slam It
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I have no idea who “virgin poster” is

Applause
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Applause
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Haha, awesome to find his old how-to-hate-post and repost it:P Quality entertainment, keep it coming!

Anônima
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Anônima
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“If a woman was getting the good dick every night, would she waste time with other women who bitch and moan about other men? Of course not.”
HAHAHAH
so true…

Anonymous
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To “poetry girl” if you’re still reading this: Most guys consider the “I’m a feminist” thing to be a warning bell not because we deep down fear strong women due to some Freudian mom-related issues but because more often feminism is used as a politically correct way to vilify and treat men as scapegoats (Everything bad in the world that has ever happened is all men’s fault!). Its a protective layer they can swaddle themselves in to justify walking around with a massive chip on their shoulder as anyone who calls them on their bullshit runs the risk of being labeled as sexist by any woman in earshot.

There’s a wide variety of warnings bells that women can allude to that cause guys to suddenly reevaluate what might result in pursuing this person and I’m sure there are a number of conjugate ones that women look for or pay attention to in men (Yeah I collect guns and knives and I’m really into taxidermy, so can I get your number?) That’s just the way it goes.

There’s a massive difference between a girl that says “I like being a girl. Girls rock!” and a girl who says “I may suddenly decide during consensual intercourse that you are in fact raping me.” Also its not that poetry girls are all crazy, its just that the crazy girls seem attracted to poetry. See: Anne Sexton, Emily Dickinson, Patti Smith, and uh… the mom of that guy from Running With Scissors

Anonymous
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16 Lee
6 hours, 5 minutes ago

“ridiculously strong bulging vien on the underside”

Yeah. Me too.

This is fucking hilarious. Lee read the entire blog entry, and despite the drama, only came to the conclusion that he, like Roosh, has a bulging vein on the underside–tremendous

Big Snot
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Big Snot
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This whole blog is so damn stupid. I have no idea why i continue to read. Probably the same reason i glance over right wing nutjob sites like powerlineblog.com Car Wrecks.

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Roosh, how much money do you make?

Gunslingergregi
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Gunslingergregi
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So your really your going to ethiopia?
Interesting.

Gunslingergregi
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Gunslingergregi
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Good luck and remember don’t get your head chopped off.

Comment Ninja
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Even if, hypothetically, you posted her picture, I don’t see what legal recourse she would have. And even if she did, what sort of damages could she claim? And even in the unlikely event that she took the matter to trial and won, how could she ever hope to enforce the judgment? Roosh, by his own account, has almost no money or material assets to speak of.

Perhaps this suggests yet another correlation: insane feminist chicks who like poetry are also way more likely to threaten to sue your ass. I say, call her bluff.

rdj
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rdj
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hahaha Roosh, fkkin Brilliant smile

BasilRansom
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BasilRansom
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Agree with G, this girl’s got flavor.

Her name links to an engineering company whose tagline is ‘sputtering equipment, sputtering targets.’ It’s also ‘industry’s service leader’ which would make this poetess…

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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SO funny!

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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Roosh, love your writing its fucking hilarious, but do you really live at your parents house?

LS
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LS
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Speaking of Ethiopia, do you think they have Jenny Craig’s over there?

Anonymous
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wow. Before I say what I am going to say, a disclaimer: I am not a hater. In fact, I am someone who thinks you are a good writer who at times displays genuinely worthy insight into not only male-female relationships but the problems with modern American society. I even find your ascetic lifestyle endearing. However, this post and your last one made something very clear to me: while you are good at manipulating women and understanding which buttons to push to make them want you, you do not like them and you will probably be alone forever. You seem to have lost not only your capacity to love but even the slightest hope that it might exist. With that, you have lost your humanity and for that, I pity you.

The game is only worth playing if you are working towards a prize. What’s the point if it’s only a game?

Trannied Toddler
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“Bang, which teaches men how to have sex with piles of female bodies…”

If this is true, I’m sure we’ll be hearing endorsements from satisfied readers Real Soon Now. Personally, I find that this book’s openers result in confused/”whatever”/I-don’t-get-it reactions.

Anonymous
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#38, while it’s possible that Roosh does not like women, it’s equally possible that he does.

To me this post clarifies that there is a cohort of women who have been socialized by our educational system and mass media to have a wholly unjustified level of self-regard. I’m not implying that Roosh would be less inclined to go for the ‘pump and dump’ with women who have more realistic levels of ego, but seeing the immolation of dignity by the girl as she reacts to the bursting of her bubble cements the stereotype of the “Women’s Studies, Post Grad, non-profit, DC Girl”.

As to passing judgements on a man’s humanity or capacity to love because he likes to bang chicks? See above.

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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#38: well said
#41: it’s not about this chick, it’s about being too far gone, there have been too many. nothing is sacred, not in the moral code of conduct sense, in the water is too muddy and stagnant sense. there’s no base scale anymore.

Zictor
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Zictor
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#38 good point

I also wonder why I come here. But train wrecks like this where both sides are pathetic kinda answer my question.

Maverick
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Maverick
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Roosh ….

Pick up is romance + sex. I admire your skills.

However, all these posts about you and an asian girl fighting out each other … it makes you seem like a chick. Grow up … you can do better than this.

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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yeah dude…maybe you should stay clear of 22year- olds or we’ll begin to think you like all of this drama while hypocritically bitching about drama.

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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yo roosh, fuck dis bitch, gun her down. ya herd?

Anonymous
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Anonymous
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ouch. my ass hurts and gets roosh all up in a tissel.

Firepower
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Firepower
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the hell with usa chicks. why bother with them if you have viable alternatives in iran and SA

cut the cord

RW
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RW
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Count your blessings Roosh because this chick is the worst possible combination: dragon lady feminist coupled with female self-absorbed entitlement.

If you think she was annoying on the second date, you would want to jump out of a sixth floor window to escape listening to her banal ground breaking rules on what constitutes rape depending on what inch your dick is inside and how many pumps before she decides she wants to exercise her right to say no.

This had disaster written all over it. It’s good you ended this post the way you did. It’s funny and that’s good and best where to leave it.

The fact she came here only shows her self-absorption as for her this is actually great because even if she is anonymous, it’s all about her.

Even if it is demeaning she’s using it as an ego stroke like getting a guy in a bar to buy drinks even though there is no intent beyond it.

Don’t watch much TV but tuned in that millionaire matchmaking show. It’s an interesting dynamic how it shows in one respect how far women will go in submitting themselves when they are guaranteed to know that a guy has some net worth. (Answer: very far indeed.)

Anyway this one guy who is so into himself that he speaks about himself in the third person (yes like on Seinfeld) and he chooses this pretty blonde (who is clearly trying very hard to beat her competition) and he goes out with her and finds out she is not just not bright but a Scientologist to go along with her lifestyle of going to a salon every two days (to get her hair done she says.) Talk about high maintenance.

He jettisons her on the date as she is not able to give him a tour of LA without revealing her craziness. Here pretty eyes were more vacant than a cloudy starless night.

Lesson learned. Anytime a girl says she is crazy. You believe her. Any chick who justifies it with we are all a little crazy well that’s just crazy rationalization. Cause it ain’t true.