Well, I go all over this sewer that is the blogosphere… So I was at Roosh V’s site. At first I thought he was Roosh the 5th, like some sort of king, kind of pretentious but cool in a haughty, arrogant way. No he is merely Roosh with a letter V at the end. Just like all love guru’s he’s got a product for sale. it’s some kind of ebook so he doesn’t have to go back to his nerdy microbiologist job and he can keep on his quest for pussy. You better go buy it, otherwise you will be condemned to a life of involuntary celibacy so bad even your right hand won’t have sex with you. (Sarcasm, in case you didn’t figure that out already.) He reveals that drunk girls are the easiest to hunt, ah, I mean seduce, or maybe I had it right the first time.
He has an article called I Don’t Want You To Get Raped…
“…Then I noticed a girl who was the friend of another girl I had approached on my first night out. I had barely exchanged three words with her, so I wasn’t sure if she’d remember me, but she did. That was surprising since she was now drunk out of her mind and holding onto the wall for support. I was inebriated myself, but nowhere near the way she was.
Her friends had ditched her and left her all by her lonesome. She desperately looked for them, fiddling with her phone, but they were all gone. I couldn’t believe my luck.”
Weird, this reminded me of something I had read about wolves…
“Contrary to popular belief, wolves are not skilled predators.
While they are highly intelligent and hunt in packs, they must isolate weak and young members from the herd and chase them down.”
Well, maybe a false equivalence as our “hero” Rooshie Baby likes operating without a wingman and wolves are social creatures….
So, the story continues…
“I guess I’ll walk you home,” I said. She didn’t say anything. Once she started walking I followed her.
Five minutes into the walk she fell into the snow, hiking up her skirt so that I could see her stockings almost all the way up to her pussy. Helping her get back on her feet confirmed that her body was the real deal, like a little ballerina with a big ass (my ideal type).
“Look at you, falling all over the place,” I said. “You’re a mess.”
“Fuck you!” she said. “You don’t have to walk me home!”
“It would be cruel to leave you because another man might try to do something to you. I don’t want you to get raped.”
“No one rapes anyone in Iceland,” she said.
“You sure you want to test that out right now? You can’t even walk straight.”
“Whatever, you’re such an asshole!”
I didn’t know if she was joking or flirting. She kept telling me to leave and I kept saying it was my duty as a man to make sure she got home safe. I said, “I have a sister who’s a couple years older than you. I’d want a guy to walk her home as well.” That was the first time I had leveraged a family member in the hope of building enough trust to get laid. I couldn’t decide if it was tight game or pure evil.”
hahaha, Pure Evil, eh? Maybe Rooshie Baby likes power metal…
“Then she grabbed my hand. For balance? For intimacy? I didn’t know, but I did know I wasn’t going to fuck her. I’ve never fucked a girl in her parents’ home while they were sleeping, and while there’s a first time for everything, I wasn’t counting on it. On the other hand, I did have to piss like a racehorse.
When we got to her place, I asked, “Can I use your bathroom?”
“Can i use your bathroom?”–Oh, shit that is a great line and not just for PUA. I will use that for some illegitimate espionage. Damnit, I’ll even use that when I really have to pee. And I was under the impression this game shit was all about learning esoteric, complicated phrases that could only be used for getting laid. The utility and practicality of this is amazing me 😉
“I took a leak in her bathroom, which was decorated like a ski lodge with various woodsy knickknacks and little troll figurines. I came out to find her in the kitchen, warming up a huge pot of chicken soup.
“Do you want some?” she asked.
“No, I’m good.”
“Thanks for walking me home,” she said, in what was her kindest statement of the night.
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Can I take off my shoes?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
She was talking loud, as if no one was home, but I did notice a shut door that I assumed was her parents’ bedroom. I sat down on the couch while she messed with the soup. Eventually she sat down next to me, putting her legs over mine. Her wet feet were tiny and I compared them to my hands, which were a few inches larger. I went into horny creep mode and started rubbing her legs while talking. She placed a hand on my arm.”
Oh, now the next couple of lines are boring, but I believe they are what’s called “Building Rapport” in sales manuals…
“Tell me something about you,” she said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything, I don’t care.”
“My life is pretty shallow,” I said.
“Because I’m never somewhere long enough to put down roots. I just go from place to place, and even if we were to be perfect for each other, it still wouldn’t work because I’m leaving soon.”
She leaned closer and said, “That’s sad.”
Now brace yourselves… For all the hours this guys putts into gaming women, you are going to be treated to some serious erotica. Think of all the hours your favorite rockstar practices guitar for a few brief moments onstage-this is the real deal.
“Then I kissed her. She tasted like beer and cigarettes, but now with my hands exploring her body I got more aroused in five seconds than I had with the Russian girl all night. Without saying a word, she got up, poured out a bowl of soup, and went into her room. I followed her.
It went so fast in her bedroom that even I felt weird. Clothes ripped off. “Do you have a condom?” Jam the dick inside. Barely any kissing. I was too drunk to feel anything and she was too drunk to produce much in the way of lubrication, so after five minutes we stopped having sex, if that’s what you want to call it, and lay on our backs. She fell asleep and started snoring. Her soup went untouched.”
“Do you have a condom?”–yuppers, I think that qualifies as enthusiastic consent.
“I took a short nap and when I woke up, her alarm clock said eight a.m. I figured it would be a good idea to leave in case her parents woke up early, so I ducked into the bathroom, threw the condom into the toilet, and flushed. It wouldn’t go down. I flushed again, but still nothing. I wanted to protect her honor (more like get rid of the evidence), so I fished it out the toilet and wrapped it in half a roll of toilet paper. I went back to the room and put it in my coat pocket along with the condom wrapper. Then I got dressed and left while she slept.”
Now on to the most interesting part of this longwinded story….
“Two weeks later I went to Bakkus again. After last call I stood outside in front of the bar, looking for targets, when the Icelandic girl I had fucked walked out with a guy in the same way I had walked out with her. She was so drunk that he was holding her arm so she wouldn’t fall over.”
Wait, what? Maybe she is the huntress, the gamster. Maybe Rooshie Baby was the one getting played. Looks like she’s done this before. Like there’s a procedure. Like a bunch of invisible hoops the guys jump through. Maybe SHE is the one with agency and poor Rooshie had to go all the way to Europe to find her. Maybe SHE is the one pulling the strings…
Now I know what y’all are gonna say and I’m not bitter. Well, alright, maybe a little. Yeah, definitely jealous that these people can get all drunk and not have to work crappolla day jobs for sure. Now as far as drinking, I noticed for me that when I drink even a little, I get killed on the trails mountainbiking. When I don’t drink, I’m killing. …..sucks to be me….