Category Archives: Books/Media

Attention players! Tired of having sex with countless beautiful women? Annoyed that girls no longer unload their personal problems on you without giving you so much as a thank you? Ex-womanizer Roosh has the solution for you: Compliment & Cuddle!

Some of you might have read Roosh’s previous books, such as Bang and A Dead Bat in Paraguay, in which he taught you how to pick up chicks smoothly and effortlessly by helping you emphasize your qualities as a man. Turns out all that was just misogynist claptrap. Women want nice guys, who will treat them as equals and reshpect them, and Compliment & Cuddle tells you how to become the gelded man-purse of their dreams:

Step Two: Only a woman can make you realize your true manly potential. It’s definitely true that behind every great man is a strong woman, pushing him to reach his potential with friendly reminders to change his underwear or not to leave little hairs on a bar of soap. Since it’s possible that your strong woman will be too busy with her innovative paper-shuffling job at work, you’ll probably need to hire a maid to do things like scrub the toilets and polish the wooden Ikea furniture.

Joking aside, Compliment & Cuddle is not only a hilarious bit of satire, it’s also a nice compliment to Bang because it shows you precisely what girls don’t want. If you’re still engaging in any of the beta, borderline-creepy behavior Roosh outlines, you’ll want to get on that stat:

Quantity is better than quality. The key to building a friendship with a girl is to understand that it’s okay to spend endless hours with her without anything actually happening. You may recognize this technique as putting in “face time” at the office. The key is to make her so comfortable and bored around you that she can’t help but tell you personal things like how other suitors aren’t treating her as well as you do. Even reading a book with her in silence for two hours is an act she’ll appreciate.

It’s not the next Paraguay, but Compliment & Cuddle is a fun way to kill time at the dentist’s.

Click here to buy Compliment & Cuddle.

Read Next: Roosh’s Brazil Compendium: Pickup Tips, City Guides, and Stories by Roosh V

What do you think of when you think of Argentina? Wine perhaps, or Buenos Aires, “the Paris of South America.” You might also think of the women, who are some of the most gorgeous in Latin America. A damn shame that actually sleeping with one is near-impossible.

Fortunately, world-traveling player Roosh is here to save the day again.

Roosh’s Argentina Compendium is what it sounds like: a compilation of all the info Roosh has gathered on Argentine girls. Cracking their code is a near-Herculean task due to their socially retarded and conservative ways, but Roosh will arm you with the tools you need to succeed:

Turns out it is very easy to talk to Argentine girls, but hard to escalate. Every guy has a story that starts with “She was loving me” and ends with “Fuck, I don’t what happened.” I’m pretty sure that the novelty of talking to a gringo (there aren’t many here) makes them excited to chat for the first 20 minutes or so, giving me the impression that she is into me. Once the novelty wears off and the language barrier becomes more obvious and painful, things fade out. So you need to talk to enough girls to catch one whose attraction for you is enough to overcome the language problem. It helps if she hasn’t been laid in a while.

Argentine girls behave in a way that is borderline antisocial, going hot and cold with guys and generally playing them for fools. Pure ballsy persistence is the only way to shatter their barricades:

She texted me on a day I had mentioned I might be free, asking if I could meet up later in the evening. The plan was to simply not respond and leave her hanging, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s too mean to leave someone out there like that so I eventually replied (with an excuse, but at least she got a response). It’s almost evil how disrespectful Argentine girls can be. While we do see issues like flakiness in Colombia and even Brazil, at least those girls have the consideration to let you down easy. It seems like in Argentina the girls have a goal to make you feel like shit, at multiple points in the seduction.

Like Roosh’s other travel guides, Roosh’s Argentina Compendium goes over every detail you could possibly need to know; city guides, nightlife tips and survival advice. Rounding out the book are personal stories from his visits there.

Given the high difficulty level of bedding Argentine girls, you absolutely need to buy the Compendium if you’re planning a trip down to the land of frigid but beautiful girls.

Click here to buy Roosh’s Argentina Compendium.

Read Next: Roosh’s Brazil Compendium: Pickup Tips, City Guides, and Stories by Roosh V

Ah Brazil, that friendly southern land known for girls with big asses and bigger smiles. Universally acknowledged as an easy country for Westerners to score… provided they don’t mind banging prostitutes or favela rats. But what if you prefer girls who aren’t trashy and cheap?

Never fear, Roosh is here, once again.

The man’s love for Brazilian women is well-known, and Roosh’s Brazil Compendium is a compilation of all of his writing on the subject. Curious gringos will be sated, as Roosh doesn’t spare any details, telling you everything you could possibly want to know:

If the average girl in an American club ranks a 5, and in an Argentina club she ranks a 7, in Brazil she’d be somewhere between a 6 and 7. This means the average Brazilian girl is bangable, but what separates them from the others is their vibe. If you are a guy and you look at a Brazilian girl, your mind jumps to sexual thoughts much faster than usual. Since it is not because she is more attractive, I think it’s a combination of body type and body language. Having a larger than average ass helps. Argentine girls are beautiful dolls you want to show off on your arm, but Brazilian girls you want to get to the bedroom as soon as possible. American girls are a mixture, excelling at neither.

“Big deal, those girls are poor and desperate and would sleep with any gringo for a green card.” Not so fast, holmes. Unlike in most countries where being foreign is a plus, Brazil is enough of a tourist hotspot that your nationality no longer makes you exotic:

There’s a guy I knew in Rio who spoke very good Portuguese, something you’d think would increase his chances of banging a lot of Brazilians, but it hasn’t done anything of the sort because his ability is merely driving him to girls who don’t already like gringos. He has a ton of conversations in Portuguese that go absolutely nowhere. His language skill merely delays the inevitable rejection.

If you want to hit it in Brazil, you need to be aggressive and sharp looking. Hit the gym, get some good threads and don’t be a pushover. Unless your idea of a hot date is paying a dirt-poor slum girl to give you a blowjob, you’ll have to work for it almost as hard as you do in America… but the payoff is far better than what home has to offer.

If you’ve got a hankering for sweet girls with huge asses, Roosh’s Brazil Compendium is a must-buy.

Click here to buy Roosh’s Brazil Compendium.

Read Next: Bang: The Pickup Bible That Helps You Get More Lays by Roosh V

Long before Roosh was searching for poosy paradise in the darkest corners of eastern Europe, he was traveling across South America seeking to crack the code that is Latin women. Bang Colombia is the very first travel guide he ever published, and it remains one of his more interesting due to its in-depth analysis of one of the continent’s most overlooked countries.

When most Americans think of Colombia, they think of either cocaine or the decades-long civil war that’s been slow-boiling in the country’s jungles. They also know that it’s supposedly one of the most dangerous places to travel in Latin America. Thing is, most Americans are stupid, as Roosh goes into detail about the reality on the ground:

Whenever someone “jokes” with me about getting kidnapped in Colombia, I know they’re an idiot who has probably never stepped outside of the United States. Kidnapping should be your absolute last concern. You have a bigger chance of killing yourself in a bathtub or choking on a jellybean, but if you want to go on an unguided tour in parts of the jungle where the FARC are known to have a presence, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make out a will beforehand.

But what are the women like? If you’re looking for passionate girls with curvy bodies and Catholic hangups, Colombia’s your place:

The Colombian girl is definitely not afraid of falling in love quickly and would rather do so than “play the field” like American girls (consider that in Colombia there’s no word for “dating” or “seeing” someone—you’re either a friend or a boyfriend). Since she’s more nervous about losing her man, she’ll be better tuned to serving your emotional and physical needs, assuming two things: (1) she’s at least twenty-one years old and has prior experience with men, and (2) you keep your game tight by remaining aloof and only slightly caring.

Unfortunately, Colombian girls are not only jealous and nosy, they’re flaky as all hell and difficult to approach due to the country’s second world status. You’ll have to pull out all the stops if you want your flag, including making use of the dreaded Internet, ordinarily the refuge of the socially stunted and unfuckable. If you’re a day game kind of guy, Colombia is ideal for you because it’s one of the few countries where it’s unequivocally superior to going to the bars.

My biggest disappointment with Bang Colombia is that it lacks the personal stories that Roosh usually includes with his travel guides. Given that this was his first one, though, that’s forgivable. If you’re interested in laying the women of this intriguing country, you’ll want to pick up Bang Colombia ASAP.

Click here to buy Bang Colombia.

Read Next: Don’t Bang Denmark: How to Sleep with Danish Women in Denmark (if You Must) by Roosh V

How many times have you heard some variant of this argument in the manosphere:

“I HATE having to be a cocky, arrogant asshole, but that’s what the girls want me to be. I’d be perfectly happy being a nice guy, a husband and a father, but women these days are mentally ill sluts, not worth marrying.”

My advice: don’t turn it into a drinking game. You’ll be dead within two hours.

As the old saw goes, if you deny reality, it will quickly work against you. You can either stand athwart history sniffling about how the world won’t conform to your expectations, or you can adapt. The women of America and the West in general expect their men to be borderline sociopathic, aloof jerks, so that’s what men are becoming. And given that the women themselves are overweight, masculinized nags, it’s not like you’re going to be able to live the 2.5 children and white picket fence dream, unless you want to raise obese, overmedicated defectives.

Surely there’s a way out, a land where women are women and still like their men manly but gentle.

Everyone’s favorite globe-hopping player, Roosh, has found the Holy Grail of femininity. After leaving South America in ruins, getting blackout drunk with Icelandic girls and surviving the feminist hell that is Denmark, he landed in Poland to discover cute, big-bosomed girls who not only wanted to sleep with him, but make him breakfast the morning after. What was a planned one-month stay became seven, with Bang Poland being the result.

If you’re sick of mannish sluts and are looking for a woman you might actually want to be the mother of your children, you must read this book.

Eastern Europe is widely acknowledged as the closest things to poosy paradise on earth; it seems economic Marxism does a good job of insulating cultures from the cultural Marxism that’s destroyed the West. But all the big countries—Russia, the Czech Republic, Latvia—have been picked clean since the fall of the Wall. Poland is the one former Iron Curtain country that’s (largely) evaded notice from the stag parties and mail order bride-seeking sleazebags:

A Polish girl gets pleasure if you’re experiencing pleasure, similar to the vibe of Brazilian women. It may not come early in the relationship, but don’t be surprised if down the line she does things to show that she wants to take care of you. I loved it whenever a Polish girl would insist on cleaning my house, offering to cook for me, or making genuine offers to take care of me when I was sick. Trust me when I say that it never got old. The result of that nurturing trait is that it becomes obvious she’d make a great mother. I dated a couple Polish girls that made me think, “If I were to have a kid, I’d want to have it with her.” That thought has never occurred to me when dating in the United States. Polish women made me want to be a provider—a strong man who could maintain a home and take care of her financially.

It’s folk wisdom that a misogynist is nothing more than a jilted romantic, and Bang Poland reinforces this. Roosh has a rep for being abrasive yet truthful about women, but his stay in Poland melted his seemingly icy heart:

I got sloppy in Poland, blasting inside many a Polish girl. Subconsciously I wanted to impregnate them because I knew that my bloodline would be taken care of by a good mother. Maybe in fifteen years I’ll get a knock on the door from a hairy Polish person who claims I’m his father. That would be cool.

It’s not perfect, though. Beyond Poland’s relatively bland culture and unenjoyable winter weather, the dating culture is far more conservative than most Americans are used to. Don’t expect to get your notch the same night you meet a girl. Still, given the sweetness and womanliness of Polish girls, why would this deter you? Are you mad? Do you enjoy hanging around crazy sluts?

If you’re more of a patriarch than a player, you owe it to yourself to pick up Bang Poland. America may suck, but there’s still a glimmer of hope out there on the Eastern front.

Click here to buy Bang Poland.

Read Next: Don’t Bang Latvia, Bang Estonia, and Bang Lithuania by Roosh V

How many times have you heard this line from women and manboobs:

“You should be thankful for feminism because without it, you wouldn’t be able to sleep around.”

Of course, the effect that feminism has on the quality of the women we get to sleep around with is never discussed; it’s always assumed that quantity is the only thing that matters. Case in point: the feminist utopia of Denmark, where you can get all the slutty sex you want without fear of “judgement,” but where the women are poorly-dressed, hideous harridans more concerned with belittling you for being a man than being decent human beings.

In Roosh’s first “hater travel guide,” Don’t Bang Denmark, he lays into everything wrong with the most ignorable nation in Scandinavia: high prices, boring people, weak nightlife, and the bizarre social convention known as Jante Law. And of course, the women:

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.

If you want to get laid in Denmark, you better learn to shut your mouth and nod along with the stupid liberal shit that Danish women make on a regular basis. In other words, you’ll have to surrender your masculinity and your balls. This forced castration got so bad for Roosh near the end of his stay that he started flat-out insulting the girls he met instead, for no other reason than to ruin their nights:

I constrained my alphaness as much as possible when I wanted to fuck, but I furiously unleashed it when a mediocre girl tried to assert her superiority over either me or my country. I’m not a patriotic American, but I let those bitches have it by elevating my voice, pointing my finger at them in an aggressive manner, and using sound logic to destroy their arguments. The look on their faces was priceless because up to that point no one in their entire lives had ever used the phrase “you’re wrong.” Even though many nights I went home alone and jerked off (after briefly considering whether or not I should bang the hot Russian prostitute), I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

Like Roosh’s other travel guides, Don’t Bang Denmark is rounded out with a story section detailing his adventures there.

If for some reason you’re contemplating a trip to Denmark, or you just want a funny and scathing piece of sociology, Don’t Bang Denmark is a must read.

Click here to buy Don’t Bang Denmark.

Read Next: Day Bang: How to Casually Pick Up Girls During the Day by Roosh V

Roosh’s Bang is easily the best resource out there for men who want to improve their dating life, but the book isn’t exactly heavy on examples of its methods in action. For that, you’ll have to turn to 30 Bangs, a memoir/short story collection that does what its name implies: details thirty of the women Roosh has slept with since he started playing the game over a decade ago.

From a pure didactic standpoint, 30 Bangs is helpful as it covers a wide breadth of situations that the prospective player could encounter. Roosh deliberately chose each story because they each have something different to offer; you won’t feel like you’re reading the same tale over and over again:

She must’ve had a sex dream. In the middle of the night she woke up and started making out with me passionately. I started to play with her boobs and then took her shirt off. I tried to unsnap her bra with two hands, but I failed due to my inexperience.

As a pure literary exercise, 30 Bangs is entertaining but falls far short of greatness due to its lack of narrative structure. Aside from being organized in chronological order (starting from Roosh’s first bangs to his recent trip to South America in 2009-2010), there’s nothing to string the stories together. While each tale is entertaining on its own, I was left pining for a greater story to tie them all together:

I can’t remember much of what was said because it was one of those painful interactions where she made so many inane and idiotic statements about astrology, art, and romance that my brain refused to remember it. The formula of our conversation went something like this: she’d say something stupid; I’d cringe and die a little on the inside before making fun of her in a humorous, sexist way; and finally she’d playfully hit me and move a little closer. I was becoming skilled at tolerating stupid girls long enough to beat their pussies up in bed. Since she had a nice body with a tomato ass, I decided a little pain now would be worth a lot of pleasure later.

I personally would love to see Roosh write an actual Paraguay-style memoir about his life on the D.C. player circuit, but 30 Bangs is an adequate substitute… for now.

Click here to buy 30 Bangs.

Read Next: A Dead Bat in Paraguay: One Man’s Peculiar Journey Through South America by Roosh V

Picking up women is a hobby usually practiced after the sun sets. Don’t pretend that nightclubs, lounges and most bars aren’t catered towards lonely losers looking to lay some ladies. When you dress up in your Friday night best and hit the nightlife circuit, you’re competing with countless other guys looking to scale the castle walls and take the princess slut home. A lone shark in a tiny pool desperately racing for chum, inflating the egos of the women you all hit on, increasing the chances that the only woman you’ll be going home with is Rosie Palmer.

What if there was a way to avoid all that? A way to meet attractive women without having to deal with cockblockers, ridiculous cover charges and the other assorted bullshit of nightlife?

Roosh, author of Bang, has got you covered with his companion book Day Bang. It’s exactly what it sounds like; a method designed to help you meet women during the day, while they’re shopping, at work or killing time at the fair trade coffeeshop. This isn’t a repackaged version of Bang, though; because the atmosphere of a supermarket or mall is different than a bar or nightclub, you’ll need a more subtle method of luring in the fishies:

What direct game does is give a girl a shot of heroin, putting her on cloud nine that a confident man thinks highly of her, but like all drugs, it wears off. A couple of minutes (or hours) later, she realizes that as cool as you seemed to be in the brief interaction that stroked her ego, there’s nothing of substance that motivates her enough to schedule one night in the week to hang out with you. She would have to be close to desperate to say yes. While direct gamesmen get numbers, they get pitifully few dates from pretty girls as a result. You can’t skip the connection-building process, because a connection is what it takes to get girls out on dates.

Day Bang’s method is so toned-down and unlike what you’d expect that you can’t even really call it “game”; it’s more about being an engaging conversationalist. Since women don’t leave the house in the morning looking to get swept off their feet, day game consists of hooking them by emphasizing your talents, qualities and experiences as a man, with only enough sexual aggressiveness to get her interested in a formal date.

And that’s the key to Day Bang: like Bang, it’s not magic. If you aren’t already in shape, have interesting hobbies and aren’t already a relatively solid guy, Roosh’s “elderly opener” and “ramble” aren’t going to help you much, if at all:

If you’re an old dude, understand that while day game puts you into position to talk to younger girls, it doesn’t necessarily make it easier to lay them unless you come close to what they’re looking for. To receive good initial responses from your approaches, you have to dress the part, which means a more modern and fit wardrobe on an athletic body. If you have a huge beer belly and you go to the mall wearing a ten-year-old Hawaiian shirt, I’d be surprised if you get anywhere regardless of how well you know the content of this book. Girls will simply peg you as a creepy old guy.

Fortunately, if you are a smart and cool guy, Day Bang is the extra bit of lubricant you need to grease your way through the cogs. Even if you’re not interested in nightlife, you’ll still want to read Bang first; Day Bang’s material builds on that book and is basically the sophomore level course to Bang’s Seduction 101.

Ultimately, the only way to get the woman you desire is to become a better you; the problem is that the accepted ways to do this are varying degrees of wrong. Day Bang is an invaluable tool for refining the diamond of masculinity that is you.

Click here to buy Day Bang.

Read Next: Don’t Bang Latvia, Bang Estonia, and Bang Lithuania by Roosh V

How does the idea of learning how to be more attractive to the opposite sex appeal to you?

Does it intrigue you?

Does it disgust you?

Does it not matter one way or the other?

Now everyone who answered yes to either of the last two questions, kindly recuse yourselves; you’re fucking liars.

Suck it up; everyone wants to be sexually desirable. It’s a fundamental part of human psychology: the desire to be accepted by others. The idea of making yourself more attractive is nothing new for women; put on your lipstick, slip on the high heels, stuff your bra with Kleenex and the boys will be none the wiser. Strangely enough, both women and men are resistant to the idea of men doing the equivalent. Men are told to dress well and make money, yet everyone has at least one example of a dirtbag (drug dealer, guitarist in a crappy band etc.) who breaks these rules and still gets the ladies. Even worse, you might be told to “just be yourself.”

So a 400-pound slob who surfs MRA sites all day should keep “being himself?” How’s that working out for him?

No, the magic ingredients that separate the pussy-hounds from the Forever Aloners are confidence and forwardness. Men with backbone and grit are sexy; men who can talk to women are sexy. Seems obvious, but real life is never that simple. Unless you’re Hugh Hefner, you need a kick in the ass—or a tap—to get you moving.

Bang is that kick.

For those fearing fruity pimp hats and backhanded insults about girls’ nails, rest assured that Roosh is no “pickup artist,” but a normal guy like you and me. His method of getting you laid doesn’t rely on canned one-liners or cheesy magic tricks, but on making you more sexually aggressive and a better conversationalist. There are no stupid acronyms or nerdy slang terms like “kino,” just straight and plain talk:

It’ll be hard to last long in the game if your brain absorbs every negative incident like a dirty bar rag. That drunk white girl in Baltimore wasn’t only punching me but also my lame line, the guy who grabbed her ass in the club, and the friend who refuses to return her Hootie and the Blowfish CD. She wasn’t rejecting me—she was rejecting my approach because she didn’t know who I was. The only time a girl rejects you for who you are is when she has known you for years. When she knows you for a minute, a day, a week, or a month, you’re not getting rejected for who you are—you’re getting rejected for who she thinks you are. She’s using a small slice of what you presented to place you in a category she can understand.

Not only does Roosh go over how to make yourself a smooth conversationalist, he shows you how to direct every step of the seduction, from meeting the girl to your first date to how to disrobe her once it’s time for the dirty deed. No other book out there is this thorough, comprehensive, and dead simple; you can literally pick the book up and start using Roosh’s methods in the bars and clubs the same night. You won’t master it in the same night, but developing any talent requires time and effort; Bang’s method of sexual mastery gets you better results with less work.

Bang’s method also works not just because it’s simple and commonsensical, but because Roosh is brutally honest. Unlike the hucksters, he doesn’t promise you the sky or sugarcoat your chances, acknowledging the reality of physical appearance (and other ugly truths) in sexual attraction:

Let’s say you have hard genetic luck when it comes to your appearance. I’d compare you to a tennis athlete born with little natural ability. You have to practice six hours a day while the natural athlete practices two hours—yet he still creams you in most matches. However, because you’re committed and disciplined, you still stick with the game and pull out enough wins to make money on the circuit. You’ll never be a superstar or top-ten-ranked player, but you’ll be able to do what you enjoy, make an upper class living, and enjoy sex from your stable of groupies.

This is all well and good. Bang’s original subtitle wasn’t “Lay Supermodels in Sixty Days,” it was “More Lays in Sixty Days.” It won’t necessarily get you perfect tens, but it will get you better than what you’re getting right now.

If you’ve gotten this far into my review without closing out your browser tab in disgust, you’re already receptive to the idea that mainstream advice on dating is useless for men. Tonight, most guys are going to go home to either a box of tissues and bottle of Jergens or a bitter, mentally ill harpy who carries their balls around in her purse. They got there by taking the pabulum about “being yourself” seriously, by swallowing every lie that society foisted on them from their childhood.

Do you want to be one of them? Or do you want to be a man?

Welcome to the real.

Click here to buy Bang.

Read Next: Don’t Bang Latvia, Bang Estonia, and Bang Lithuania by Roosh V

I’m going to drop a bit of truth here that will likely piss some of you off:

There is very little in the manosphere that is original.

A collective of men who’ve shucked off mainstream society to fuck girls, quaff beer and do obscene amounts of illegal drugs? No really, it’s been done before, going all the way back to the days of Rome. Hemingway, Bukowski, Miller; this path was worn deep long before we took our first baby steps.

I’m also going to drop some more truth:

The fact that the manosphere isn’t very original DOESN’T MATTER.

The manosphere’s detractors (read: cranky old men who think having an AARP membership makes them wise and intelligent) think that pointing out its unoriginality is somehow an effective counterargument. Unfortunately for them, I’ve read all the same books they have, but my brain cells aren’t rotting out due to dementia.

Way back in high school, I had an English teacher who told us that all of human literature and art can be distilled down to one of two themes: sex or death. That’s it. The Bible, Homer, Shakespeare, Austen, Thompson; it’s either sex, death or the two combined. Originality was an impossible goal for the greats of the Western canon, and it’s an impossible goal for us.

It is not originality, but EXECUTION, that matters.

I’ve had more than one person, from my family to my friends, tell me that the hitchhiking trip I took last year has been done before. It doesn’t matter. It’s my execution of the trip—the specific things I saw and did, my particular worldview and writing style—that is important.

Roosh’s first memoir, A Dead Bat in Paraguay, is not an original work. It’s about how Roosh, tiring of the corporate grind in Washington, D.C., quit his job to sojourn across South America, starting in Ecuador and ending in Brazil. Along the way, he contends with frigid girls, dweeby backpackers, and a litany of foodborne illnesses that end with him having exceedingly painful bowel movements:

The next morning I emitted a constant flow of noxious gas so foul that the air trapped under my blanket was more offensive than a Port-O-Potty on the Fourth of July. I dirtied the bowl once more after waking up to the worst dream I’ve ever had in my life.

This story’s been done before. So why bother doing it again?

The answer lies in the execution. Roosh’s narrative successfully blends the low and high, taking you from his comic toilet escapades to his repeated attempts to seduce the local women in the cities he visits. He successfully gets the reader invested in his tale, whether he’s talking about his relationship with his younger sister or his explorations of exotic locales like Machu Picchu:

The first night of our tour we had a fried beef meal. As a result, for the next day I continually passed gas that smelled like the beef. My nickname in the Jeep became “Beefy Gas.” Mary decided this would be a great time to bring it up.

“Oh it’s extra beefy now, thanks,” I said. I wanted to jump across the salt table and strangle her, but I knew if I got defensive it would just confirm to everyone that I did in fact have beefy gas. I had to play cool.

I have yet to meet Roosh in real life due to our conflicting schedules, but I’ve talked to and worked with him behind the scenes online for several years now. He’s as close to a friend of mine as you can get from an online association. When I was preparing for my own pilgrimage into danger, I could have picked any number of books to read to prepare myself for the journey.

The book I ultimately settled on was Paraguay.

Plenty of other writers have had far wilder adventures than Roosh, yet I chose Paraguay because it was written for my generation. Roosh is considerably older than me, but his experiences in America—his ennui, his feelings of hopelessness, his desire to break out of his pointless life—mirror mine.

A Dead Bat in Paraguay is the lodestone of Generation Y men, the first generation of men in America deliberately raised to be as unmanly as possible. We were shunted into an educational system catering to girls and retards, then doped up with Ritalin and Adderall to turn us into little obedient drones. Television and movies depict us as doddering simpletons unable to perform the most basic household tasks without women—our wives, mothers or girlfriends—to lead us. When we got to college, we were accused of having “privilege,” of being racist and sexist, of being the cause of every ill in the world going back to the fall of Ur. And when we graduated into the workforce, we found that all the high-paying careers we were promised didn’t exist, leaving us to either flip burgers or work demeaning cubicle jobs with fascist HR ladies ready to censure us at the drop of a hat for creating an “unsafe environment.”

And people are whining about “the end of men?” No shit! And I hear that if you shoot someone in the head with a Desert Eagle, they’ll die!

That’s the most insulting part. Our Baby Boomer parents, teachers and bosses have literally been trying to ruin us since we fell out of the crib, yet now that their handiwork is starting to bear fruit, they’re acting indignant and pretending like they had nothing to do with it. It’s like they had no idea that their Marxist social engineering would have any repercussions down the road.

Hey mom? Hey dad? If you wanted your sons to grow up to be men, maybe you shouldn’t have raised them like they were women!

That’s why A Dead Bat in Paraguay, and why Roosh, and why the manosphere in general is so important. It’s the first wide-scale attempt by Generation Y men to reclaim their balls and their birthright. It doesn’t matter that this road has been traveled before. If it wasn’t an important road, it wouldn’t be so traveled to begin with.

If you’re looking for one of the best tales of masculine self-discovery in the modern world written today, read Paraguay. You’re not walking this road alone; men like Roosh and I have braved the horrors of hell, and we’re here to help.

Click here to buy A Dead Bat in Paraguay.

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