1: Get a third-pound hunk of ground beef and add the following spices: salt, pepper, and cumin, in a three, two, and one ratio, respectively. This means three parts salt for two parts pepper for one part cumin. In case you’re wondering, the cumin gives it a nice earthy flavor. Go a bit heavy on the salt—no point trying to be healthy when you’re eating the shredded scraps off the slaughterhouse floor.

2: Put the patty in a pan and circle it with sizable chunks of pineapple. Cover the pan and fry on medium-high heat. The grease will leak out of the patty and soak the pineapple in meaty goodness. Once that grease is almost evaporated, turn everything over. Slap on a slice of cheese and cook for about three or four minutes more, still covered. This should get you to at least medium-well. If you want it well-done then wait a couple minutes after turning it over before adding the cheese.

3: Toast thin bread. You want to taste the burger and toppings, not grain. Use cheap white bread, it doesn’t matter. Plop your meat on a slice of bread and top with cheese, tomato slices, pineapple (which will be just slightly charred—oh god, so good), avocado slices, honey mustard, ketchup, and lettuce. The ensuring burger will be a colossal mess, but pure heaven.

The secret to the burger is the cumin, avocado, and pineapple. Enjoy.

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After a decade or so of drinking, I have settled on a strategy which lessens the negative effects of alcohol while maximizing the amount of pussy I get, and I’d like to share that with you right now.

First, let’s take a night that I drink heavily on—at least five liquor beverages in a short amount of time. After the fourth drink in less than two hours, there comes a point where I feel absolutely invincible, like I can hit on any girl in the universe with the tightest of tight game. Unfortunately it’s an illusion. I think my game is great but it’s actually not proven by the results: I rarely pull when drunk. Just like how a drunk guy thinks the girl he’s talking to is hotter than she really is, when heavily intoxicated I think my game is better than it is. Plus, that feeling of invincibility fades very quickly as the depressant side of alcohol takes effect and all I want to do is lean against the bar or sit down.

You’re probably thinking, “Wait, I’ve gotten laid when drunk many times.” If you go back to those nights, I believe what happens is you interest a girl while merely buzzed, and then continue drinking with her until you’re both drunk. So the drunkenness comes after you already lock in your prospect, and is very rarely the direct cause of sex.

Second, research has shown that binge drinking messes with your dendrites (neural connectors). I like my dendrites and don’t want to damage them.

Third, it takes a while for alcohol to work its way through your body. If you’re feeling fucked up and then buy a sixth drink, you’re going to feel really fucked in a couple hours since the fifth drink hasn’t even taken effect yet. This is why police officers don’t mind waiting an hour or two until testing your blood for alcohol at the station (the lowest you’ll blow is when they pull you over). It’s a waste of money to be done partying but still processing the last couple drinks you bought.

Keeping the above points in mind, while also wanting the favorable of alcohol’s loosening effects, my strategy is as follows:

Consume no more than three scotch drinks or five light beers per night.

You get the buzzing effects of the alcohol while still retaining that pimp game ability. You avoid the effects of hangover. You kill very few brain cells. You don’t hurt your wallet. You’re disciplined and rely on your abilities instead of drink, since three drinks will not give you stupendous courage. It puts you on a similar level playing field as 80% of the girls who are drinking, and very rarely will you be drunker than her, which is death when it comes to pick up.

I get my scotch with two or three rocks and then sip sip for about hour, enjoying the effects as they take hold in a comfortable manner. My third scotch is done by 1am but I continue to feel a light buzz until 3am closing time. The next day I wake up refreshed, whether in my bed or in a girl’s. Best of all I only spend a maximum of $35 a night of drinking the finest of spirits. I can be dirt poor but still do this.

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P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

Unfortunately there is nothing you can do on the same night. The large amount of time spent on the girl in the yellow shoes has made it clear to her and everyone else that she is your pick for the night. Even if the new girl does like you, will she agree to see you at risk of damaging her close friendship? No. If you go for the new girl it’s a 95% guarantee you will get neither girl. But!

If you know for a fact the girls aren’t close friends, try for the switch right then and there. Otherwise…

The correct move is to stick to the girl in the yellow shoes and date her. Only after you seal the deal with her can you take a chance on the new girl, who you will surely see again in this case since Colombians like to hang out in huge groups. One possible move is to date the new girl for a while and eventually dump her, easing into a friendship where you give her the hope of getting back together. Since officially you’re single, you can attempt to pass yourself to the new girl like the neighborhood bicycle.

You will need much more time with the new girl for her to risk the friendship than the 20 minute exposure she had to you in the club. If you bang one, you’ll have a better chance at banging the other. It’s still an incredible long shot, but the best shot you have.

This is not a favorable situation under any circumstance and you’ll be lucky if you can pull it off once in your lifetime. The lesson is to properly survey your surroundings and choose wisely from the get-go.

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You’re in front of a Colombian club, waiting for your Swedish friend to finishing smoking his cigarette, when you see a girl wearing yellow Chuck Taylors giving you the eye. Cute face, extremely petite, unknown ass size. You walk up to her and say something in English. She doesn’t understand so you translate it into Spanish and she laughs along with her friends. There’s eight of them total, six girls and two guys. You go inside the club with your Swedish friend after chatting the group up a bit.

One hour later she tells you to join her in a corner section of the club. You don’t care for dancing but you know dancing is very important for Colombian girls so you fake the salsa steps and move your hips a little to the reggaeton as you get closer and closer to the girl in the yellow shoes. She can dance, of course, like all other Colombian girls, and you get a raging boner that will force you to furiously masturbate later.

Two hours pass and you’ve since explored her ass (not huge but meaty) and it’s obvious the girl is really into you, but you’re tired of dancing. You sit down on the couch and next to you is one of her friends that you didn’t notice earlier.

The new girl is a little more plump but has a more feminine appearance compared to her hipster friend. She’s wearing tight clothes that reveal her curves and has hair that goes down to her ass. Her mascara is think and heavy but it contrasts well with her dark hair and tan skin. You chat her up and instantly it hits you that you settled on the wrong girl. You want the new girl instead. What do you do?

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I think the chance of getting HIV from a prostitute is low… unless you go raw and get your dick gashed up in the vagina. Idiot.

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Hookers - A bang in a whorehouse is $13. You can get a threesome for $25. I heard of a whorehouse that had an anal special for May. It’s no surprise that a lot of gringos come to Colombia just to frequent the whorehouses.

Drugs - A gram of cocaine is about $5, but if you got a guy then $2.50. A fifth of an ounce of marijuana is $5 (I’m guessing the weight but it’s good for about 20 cigarette-sized joints). Pharmaceuticals are also cheap.

Casinos - There are a handful of clean casinos that have the usual games including hold ‘em poker. The blackjack tables allow surrender which improves your odds somewhat. I have found $1 blackjack tables. People play like fucking idiots (I saw a guy split 6’s against a dealer face) but it’s fun if you have a friend.

Alcohol - Many clubs offer all-you-can-drink specials that start at $15. Domestic beer, rum, and aguaardiente are dirt cheap.

Silicone- More fake breasts than any city in the United States. Really adds to the overall ambiance.

Las Vegas got nothing on Medellin.

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I was in Bogota. Let’s plug that into Flickr. Here’s Bogota.

Does it matter that I didn’t take the photo? No. I’m in Medellin. Here’s the building where I take Spanish classes, found via Google.

Here’s a nice library I’ve been to a few times, from Flickr.

I’ve seen this particular vantage point with my own eyes but I didn’t take a photo. Doesn’t make a difference. My experience in Bogota or at a school or library is not diminished by the fact that I didn’t capture it with an electronic device.

So what’s left? Pictures of people.

Does the world really need more photos of me in front of monuments and other places? If anything the picture is ruined if I’m in it.

I’ll meet friends on the road no doubt. Surely I’ll want photos of them, but I will likely add them on Facebook, where there will be hundreds of their photos at my disposal. That person does not need another photo taken of him or herself, I can assure you.

I’ll get laid on the road, and want to take pictures of the girls I have sex with. Why? To show my friends that I can score? Doesn’t matter anyway, because she’ll be on Facebook too. Unless I’m taking naked photos there’s no need to turn on my camera.

As long as everyone else takes their camera everywhere, you no longer have to.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

A similar state is soon after a very tough workout. I’m talking about at least an hour lifting weights followed by a brisk 2-3 mile run, not jog. If you feel like you’re going to collapse by the end of it, then it was hard enough. You’ll feel destroyed and your body will ache. Movements become very slow, as are your responses to stimuli. You walk like a wounded giant, deliberate with each step. Your eyes linger on insignificant objects. A gentle calm comes out when you speak, carefully enunciating each word, pausing after every several. Time slows.

Take a shower and then head to the bar. You’ll be horny because of the testosterone pumping through your veins. Sit down and mull over your drink until a girl comes into your view. At this point your opener will not matter because your body says it all: supremely confident man without a care in the world. Little does the girl know that you’re just exhausted, not really supremely confident.

If your primetime night is Saturday night, I expect you at the gym at around 5pm. We don’t want too many hours of recovery before you go out.

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I’m made a couple graphs to demonstrate this fact. They assume two things: (1) You have competent game, and (2) The girl does not speak a word of your native tongue. Let’s keep this simple and assume things like status and money aren’t factors.

This first graph is based on a man whose looks are in the 7 range.

Notice how he cannot get better than his looks unless he is proficient at the language. This is my problem. I’m in the conversational skill range which means I can’t do a whole lot better than my looks.

In order for me to see a bump in quality I have to master the language, but to master the language I need hundreds of hours of speaking under my belt. So I’m dating girls I don’t really care for just to speak in Spanish. That sets up a nice win-win scenario because even if I don’t get laid on a date I’ll still get in a lot of practice at a cost that is less than a private language tutor.

Okay now let’s take a look at a guy who is in the 5 range.

Do you see what fluency does? Sky’s the limit. When you see ugly guys with hot girls in the United States, I guarantee you they speak the same language (duh). This is only possible in a foreign country if there is a large exchange of cash or drugs.

You should consider your language knowledge factor if you want to fuck beautiful girls abroad, assuming you don’t want to pay for it. The exception is if you’re an exceptionally good looking guy, but even knowing the basics will bump up what you can get by a solid point. The lesson in this is to study the language before you go, and don’t be like a lot of pathetic American gringos I’ve met who come to Colombia just to fuck prepagos (prostitutes).

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Thankfully, you won’t find many acronyms or five page “field reports” of cringe-worthy lines.

Here are some interesting recent threads:

• Going to Brazil in June
  
• Chance of getting laid in India
• Just landed in Rio
• Prague
• Medellin
• Safety/Protection in South America
• Older guy wants younger girl
• The jaded girls
• Situation suggestions?
• Any other smokers out there?
• What’s up with American girls?
• Cooking for women
• Better part of the Middle East

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With this right mix of youth and experience I have a good feeling about the future.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

Correct answer: Speak in English. When you speak a foreign language you’re not fluent in there will be many moments of frustration where you can’t express yourself properly. This leads to feelings of inadequacy, which you want her to experience instead of you. She will be looking inward to her own failure instead of your possible flaws. You are her teacher guiding her towards the light. You are the authority figure. As long as she understands your jokes, you’re going to get some at the end of the date because she will be wondering if you still even like her after she was barely able to speak to you.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

The reason I exist is to reproduce. In other words everything that I do in life, no matter how unrelated to the act of getting laid, is a cost against getting laid. Whether that is renting an apartment, shopping for a shirt, eating a post-dinner snack, taking a language class, or buying a book, it should all be counted towards my cost per notch. The apartment provides a space to bang my girl. The shirt is how I present myself to the girl. The snack provides sustenance to give me a pleasing appearance. The language class enables me to communicate. The book makes me a more cultured person able to have conversation with girls. And so on. The purpose for my entire being is for the act of sex, so everything that comes with being should be counted towards sex.

The true cost per notch is your total expenses for life divided by girls banged.

Because I have detailed spending budgets saved for many years in Excel, I can give you a rough number for my true cost per notch.

2006: $6,500
2008: $3,100.
First five months of 2009: $1,400

That’s a 78% reduction in getting laid cost from 2006 to 2009. I attribute this entirely to game and niche finding. While I don’t recommend you spend thousands of dollars on a dubious workshop, my data shows that you can save yourself many times that if you advance to a high level of game. It’s too costly not to learn, as the guys with TCPN’s in the high five digits can probably tell you.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

Don’t overdo the kiss. She may interpret your desire to constantly kiss her as neediness. You always want to leave her wanting more by stopping short right before you think she is get-ting satisfied. If on a first date I kiss a girl for say a total of five minutes, I’d rather do it in five one-minute bursts than one five-minute session. After you pull back from the first kiss of the date (it will always be you that pulls back from kisses first), wait a good 10 minutes before you go back in again to show her that kissing is not a big deal, and resume conversation like nothing major happened. Re-entry is best when another natural silence in the conversation takes place. Feel free to throw in a couple fake-outs where you get really close like she thinks you are going to kiss her again but you pull back and continue conversation. Be unpredictable about when you end kisses—sometimes you go in for a minute, sometimes two minutes, and sometimes only twenty seconds. Save the extended make-outs for when you get her in a bedroom. You want to tease her—blue-balling yourself in the short term—to turn her on so much that she doesn’t resist when you escalate in the bedroom.

Here’s all you need to know about kissing girls:

Less is more.

Less is more.

Less is more.

You’re not in college anymore. There is no reason to open your mouth wide enough that a kittens head can fit into it and then go crazy. Unless the girl is drunk (or Brazilian), she will not enjoy it.

If you spy on dates you see two kinds of guys. The guys who don’t give a fuck, where the girl keeps coming into him, and the guys who try to kiss the girl at every instant he gets, like he’s scared she’s going to walk out on him if he doesn’t release his tentacle grasp upon her. Which guy is going to get his dick sucked hard by the end of the night?

For about the first two dates, you will be trying to kiss her more than she kisses you. But by date three, once her attraction for you is hopefully cemented, it should be the other way around. She should be on you like a wet rag, kissing you to claim her territory in front of other girls. But if you’re trying to claim her as territory, then your hold on her is weak and she will soon get tired of you because you are needy and desperate. Also, you’re leaving a trail of drool flowing down on her chin. Might want to get that with a napkin.

I recently updated the Bang homepage with 10 new sample pages that you probably haven’t read before, including tips from approaching to sealing the deal.

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A condom is a smooth layer of latex, a totally different feel of real skin. How can a girl’s vagina not tell the difference between latex and skin? That must mean the inside guts of the vagina is not as sensitive as we think. Her fingers can definitely tell the difference when she’s directing the cock action, but her vagina cannot. Since men can tell the difference between sex with a condom and without, that tells me the penis is far more sensitive to touch than the vagina is. That also means a sound strategy for illegal raw dog sex is to introduce a hole in your condom that causes certain breakage.

So what gets a girl off then? For them sex is more about the entire act, across mind and body, and not just centered one one organ of their body. For men it’s all about the dick. Our entire body except for our dick can be lying in an isolation chamber but still get off (think glory hole).

If you can conquer a woman’s mind, she will enjoy the sex regardless of your performance, assuming you’re at least average. Trying to understand the vagina is like trying to understand the woman attached to it, an exercise in futility.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

Since I brought some extra medium t-shirts with me to Colombia one of the first things I did when I arrived in Medellín was ask around for a gym. Sure I want to stay in shape but my goal is part vanity: I remember all the times that girls came up to you and started touching your body like it was a piece of meat and I wouldn’t mind that happening to me. Plus your recent post on gym game got me motivated.

Medellín has a chain of excellent gyms called Body Tech but the membership price is outrageous, something like $120 a month. My meathead dreams dashed, I decided to stick to my normal routine of pushups, pullups, and then a brisk run. (There is a childrens playground two blocks from my place where I can do pullups.)

I went to the stadium for my first run. Each lap around it is 0.44 miles (I measured it using Google Maps), so 7 laps got me to about 3 miles. Afterwards I started walking to the subway station when a shirtless man inside a park off the sidewalk caught my eye. He was doing bench presses. Curious, I walked closer and there it was—a free outdoor gym.

There were two jungle gym apparatuses in the middle for doing pull ups and four concrete benches for chest, two flat and two incline. There were parallel bars for dips and other bars for doing abs. The weights were not weights that you are used to but concrete blocks permanently attached to the bars. Plastic buckets were used as molding and in most cases they’re still attached to the concrete. There are no numbers on them so I have no idea how much they weigh (it’s a matter of feeling them out to see if it’s the proper weight). Most of the bars are long but a couple are shorter for doing bicep curls or chest flys.

I started working out immediately. Alongside me were five other guys who I wouldn’t want to be caught with in a dark alley at night. They had menacing looks and wouldn’t stop staring at my obvious gringo appearance, and I’m sure they wondered why I didn’t go to a real gym since I’m probably rich. Little do they know I’m in the same boat as them.

I’m so used to proper machines that besides the most basic exercises I didn’t know what to do. So I watched the guys, who were very creative with how to use the equipment. I didn’t know there were so many different ways of doing pull ups. You would probably laugh at their technique though—actually they had no technique because they’d do one set of something, then they do something completely different, and then something different. They were mixing chest and back exercises. But they were cut as fuck. Not really huge like you but extremely ripped. I copied them.

This past Sunday was my fourth visit.

The ground is dirt and since May is the rainiest month in Medellín there is mud in certain spots. There is no water fountain obviously but an old guy comes every half-hour to sell small bags of water for a quarter. During sporting events at the stadium a third of the gym doubles as a parking lot. One time I worked on the incline about four feet from a Peugot while this guy’s dog was rubbing up against my leg. Some of the lifting bars are bent and without soft padding I can see callouses develop in real time. It feels like working out in a prison gym. I’m out in the yard keeping my eye out for the the guy who wants shank me in the ribs. I haven’t been shanked but I have had my water bottle stolen twice.

When I do chest flys I have to breathe through my nose because when I tap the bars at the top dirt falls right down on my mouth. Have you done bench presses on a concrete bench before? It fucks up your clavicles. I have two red spots on my back that don’t seem to be going away. Nonetheless I feel like a man. I wish you were with me in this gym so you could feel more manlier than normal as well.

When I come back I’m going to be so strong that I will want to start fights in the bars with the nerds who accidentally bump into me. I’ll only do it when you’re right there though so you can get my back. Thanks bro.

Sincerely,

Roosh

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At the end I thought, “Is she doing this with her friends right now? Is she asking her friend how to get with me? Is she asking her friend how to get me to stop flaking?”

Of course not.

Even though she wasn’t treating me well, I was still chasing her. Even though she was barely encouraging me, I wanted her bad. It’s human nature.

If you eavesdrop on conversations with girls, you will hear them talk about guys that are flakes. Guys that don’t call. That put in the minimum amount of work. That don’t give much notice on dates and then cancel them at the last minute. That fuck the girl and then make an excuse to leave within minutes. You think that guy is stressing over the girl? You think he’s asking his friends for help? No, he’s too busy working on other girls. He doesn’t care about any of them. He has no attachments. With no attachments he doesn’t do the pathetic, desperate, needy shit that 95% of other guys do.

I realized then that I had to BE THAT GUY, and not the guy who plots and tries and talks about what to do next. Because the moment you have to try is the moment you care, and the moment you care is the moment she has you, and all you’ll have is your hand, waiting for the phone to ring.

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From most dangerous to safest…

Brazil. Everyone seems to get robbed here. All my Brazilian friends have been robbed many many times and I think it was a miracle that I wasn’t, especially during Carnival. This country is not for beginners.

Ecuador. Den of thieves. Problem here is pick pocketing and bag theft on buses. Everyone has either been robbed or almost robbed in Quito (I was pick pocketed).

Venezuela. I was there in 2005 but hear it’s since gotten significantly worse. Caracas is the most dangerous city in South America.

Peru. I think there is so much crime here because you have a lot of beginner tourists wanting to see Machu Picchu. Mostly pick pockets and bus theft.

Paraguay. I haven’t heard a lot of stories out of here, and I only spent a week in the capital. It’s on par with Bolivia and Peru.

Bolivia. Outside of La Paz, the danger factor is average. In the medium sized cities I’ve walked around at night without problems.

Colombia. Surprisingly safe if you take basic precautions in cities at night. There are lots of expats here and on average they’ve been mugged “only” once every year or two.

Argentina. Buenos Aires does get a few gringos, but as a whole the country is very safe and I’ve stumbled out of clubs in the middle of the night dozens of times without problems. I don’t know anyone personally who has been robbed in Argentina and I spent almost three months there.

Uruguay. The beach towns are extremely safe. You can leave your belongings for a quick swim and be reasonably certain they’ll be there when you come back. A good beginner trip would be Argentina and then Uruguay.

Chile. It’s very similar to Argentina but I’m giving it the title of safest South American country because I took the Santiago subway with my 40-pound pack to the bus station. Valparaiso has sketchy areas at night but you can tone down the paranoia factor a bit here.

Even though Chile is the “safest” country in South America, keep in mind it’s around two times more dangerous than Washington DC at night. You’ll definitely feel it when the sun comes down. Wherever I am in South America, I fully expect to be robbed every time I walk out the door, so I only take what I need. Worst case I’m out 50 bucks and an old digital camera. My only fear is getting my entire bag robbed. That would be catastrophic.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.

When a girl says something rude or curt, whether it’s making fun of your shirt or mocking your “line,” there is only one way to respond to her:

“It was nice meeting you.”

This is what girls say when they don’t want to talk to you anymore so they know exactly what it means, and they’ll feel rejected by it even if they weren’t interested in you. It’s a classy retort that prevents you from stooping to her level. You come out the better human being.

If you’re a keyboard jockey I know what you’re thinking: “But Roosh a girl calling you out on your line is only a Level III shit test! You have to respond in an alpha male manner with a witty DHVKOCK comeback and then swoop her caveman style while actively showing passive disinterest!” No, fuck that. If a girl doesn’t know how to act and be respectful then she blew her chances with me. Only by coming after me and proving her worth after she makes a mistake is it appropriate to give her a second chance and the eventual privilege of riding my veiny cock.

P.S. My book Bang is now available on Amazon.com and qualified for Super Saver shipping.