Hey Roosh… I’m Brazilian and I would strongly discourage you to stay where you are… I have lived for five years in Rio and never had any problems personally. But I’ve always known how to avoid trouble…
As for having a place to pull chicks… Good luck having a middle class Brazilian hottie following you into the favela…
I have brought home a girl who lives in a million dollar mansion (her father is a renowned doctor), a soap opera actress, a stage actress, and an American girl who was an “international executive,” among others. Not only did each girl make more money than me, but they lived in a much better area of town as well.
When I read that comment I kind of laughed, because he must have not read about the ease of which it was to get laid when I lived in my dad’s basement. In the end it comes down to how your present your situation, so here’s how I introduced my favela in Rio:
Do you know the Dona Marta favela? I live there, in basically a shack with eight other people…
Yeah I have my own room. My room is nice actually—I have a nice bed, a desk and two fans, but no air conditioning. The rest of the house though is pretty… rustic.
In front of the favela there are these policeman with huge war guns, and they always have their fingers gently caressing the trigger as if they want something to go down. Sometimes I see them walking around with pistols, and this one time I saw a cop with a gun in each hand. Actually the other week they stopped and searched me. I’m lucky that nothing has happened to me so far.
(Notice how I casually presented my room as a place where comfortable sex could happen.)
Curiosity gets humans to do crazy things, like wanting to visit a favela. Spin a tale of danger or something different and people will want to learn more. After my favela spiel most girls straight-up tell me that they are “curious” about visiting. If they don’t then I slipped and got too lazy about hyping up the danger factor.
The commenter above used logic to say why a well-off, pretty, and other successful women wouldn’t want to come to a shack, but I swear when I say it offers me absolutely no disadvantage. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s an advantage (for casual sex purposes). Every girl knows the shitty apartments in Copacabana or Ipanema, but a favela? I’ve framed it like I’m giving her an opportunity to visit the slum. Hell, other tourists are paying money to tour the damn things!
My Danish roommate, on the other hand, chooses a boring angle when discussing where we live. He says, “Oh but it’s very very safe. There is no crime or anything.” There is nothing special about living in a safe slum. After a short while I got better at painting it in a horrible light, telling the girl not to bring a lot of money in case we get robbed and also not to dress “like a rich person.” And they listen, asking if they should bring identification in case we get stopped for a random search. When we pass the cops with the big rifles and the girls tell me they’re scared while squeezing my massive bicep, I know there is an 90% chance I’m getting laid within minutes.
When I lived with my dad, there were three cases where I had no choice but to bring a girl over. There I framed it in a way that she could only come if she was quiet because I couldn’t get “caught” by my pops. I added that she had to be careful not to trip over any of my brothers toys on the floor, especially the fire engine with the loud siren, lest she wake the entire family up. It was like we were in high school again and I’ll be honest: it was exciting. I was 29-years-old at the time.
There is always a way to spin a perceived negative to be fun, exciting, or dangerous, to be a different experience than what she is used to. The worst thing you can do is hide your situation or make excuses for it, because that alone will decrease her attraction for you more than living with your parents or in a favela.
I guarantee I could get laid if I lived in a homeless shelter as long as I smelled fresh.