“What are you drinking?” I ask the blonde to the left of me as I wait in line to order a drink at the bar. She blurbs vodka something, in one ear and out the other. I was just trying to gauge her interest. Her eyes dart around the room and she doesn’t seem that interested in me. I know better than to give up, so I reengage the conversation. She talks for a few minutes and then excuses herself to go find her friends. Oh well.

Turn to my right. Brunette this time, hooray for variety I guess. “What are you drinking?” This one is excited and tells me ginger ale and Jameson.  Sugary with a taste of slut. We chat it up and things are going well. More hand contact, first shoulder then side waist. She’s a fun girl and I’m enjoying my time with her. Maybe I should buy her a drink. Wait, no I can’t. I’m in America and that is a sign of weakness. Despite the fact that I genuinely don’t mind.

Won’t be able to fuck her tonight because the world is a cockblock, so I settle for her number. “Give me your number” I demand, because anything less than full confidence in assuming the sale can set off one of several fabricated yet indoctrinated alarms in her mind. She likes my assertiveness. Number collected.

Few days later text the numbers I collected, same text to all and see what bites. A few leads, including the brunette. Can’t use appropriate punctuation or a smiley face. I’m in America and that is a sign of weakness.

Date set with brunette. Go through my routine, and try to fuck her because it ensures the best chance of ever seeing her again. These days American girls have the attention span of a six-year old retard at the Willy Wonka factory. Funny thing is I wouldn’t even mind waiting another date, possibly two (but no more). But again, I’m in America and that’s a sign of weakness.

The Bizarro World

I have come to realize something lately. American men are forced to deviate from their natural and biological desires in order to achieve any perceived happiness with their counterparts of the opposite sex. Ironically, this has the unintended effect of pushing you away from happiness into a more morose state of being. American women are so damn backwards, it is a bit scary if you think about it. Girls here love to call us rapists and misogynists and little-dicked home-dwellers when all of our behavior is a direct result of their own misguided actions.

For ages, men have adapted as a means of solving problems by assessing a situation. Through experimentation, trial and error, and eventually wisdom from the elder and more experienced, we have figured out solutions to problems that face us in our everyday lives. “Game,” as we like to call it, is the same thing. It is a medium by which we adjust our actions, words, and beliefs in order to achieve our goals. Here, our goals — be it fornication with many girls or a relationship with a hopefully devout wife — require the use of a strategy that, to be honest, goes against our nature.

This is a broken record by now, but we all know the drawbacks of our western women. They take pride in not looking good, in not cooking or knowing how to cook, in not taking care of their men, in valuing work over beauty, in disregarding the value of their youth, in becoming the dominant male of the heterosexual relationship. They have become filthy animals who beg to be choked during sex. They mandate drama as a means of interaction given the endless “reality” shows they gorge upon on a daily basis.


I’ve created arguments with girls I’ve dated just because I know they need that drama to be entertained, or they will think I’m “boring.” I have to pretend their sexuality is not a turn on for me or risk being deemed a pervert because any overt act of kink displayed by a female causing a reaction in the observing male is indicative of someone who can’t get laid.

Take for example one girl I was banging a while back, relevant tweet embedded below. She sent me a video of her masturbating while yelling my name.  Likely fabricated, it was just attention whoring coupled with what she perceived to be something men want, to see a girl they are dating act in a pornographic way.

I know some men enjoy dirty texts, but since I’ve already banged her and I like the subtle sultriness more than the obvious displays, this did nothing for me. But let’s assume it actually did turn me on. Naturally, I would want to make a comment indicating both the level of attraction that it caused me, and also approve of her behavior to hopefully encourage more of the same.

Unfortunately by responding naturally, she would either think less of me or overvalue her sexuality’s effect on me. So as with other similar situations I responded in the way I did and after a few more angry texts (see drama discussion above), she warmed up as usual and we continued our physical relationship.

The Real World

Here at ROK it may seem like we sensationalize Eastern Europe, South America or Southeast Asia. But it is not exaggeration. They are places where men can act upon their natural and instinctive desires, and not be punished. If I buy a girl a drink in Russia, because I want to and believe in doing so, I am thought of as a good provider and a true man. If a girl likes me in Brazil, I know it within seconds and we can be kissing within minutes.

Across the sea if I have a question I want to ask via text, I can include the question mark without fear the girl may think the use of punctuation is too formal. There’s no rush to fucking a girl because you will likely see her again  She will kick you out of the kitchen if you attempt to cook, because that’s “her job.”

Until you actually visit and experience these places, it’s hard to understand why American/Western women bother us so much. But I think I’m understanding a new reason why. Maybe our annoyances, while seeded in their actions, actually result from the unrest we feel within ourselves because of how much we have to deviate from our instincts. Maybe our feelings of elation and satisfaction from traveling comes not from the women we bed, but from the ability to finally coincide our desires and thoughts with what evolution intended for us.

By no means am I trying to get spiritual or preachy here. But just as we are not meant as human beings to be tied indoors in an office for 40+ hours a week, men are not meant to act in these ways to have successful relationships with women. The sight of a beautiful women elicits an intense desire in me. Sex is one of the purest forms of nature, biologically based upon reproductive necessity yet carrying with it the utmost physical pleasure most will ever naturally experience. Yet, living in America, we are required to act unnatural in order to even feel the slightest bit natural in the end.

And it fucking sucks.

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