With the recent conflict in Ukraine, spurred on by US government involvement, it appears that one of the more consistent poosy paradises for Western men is on a definite geopolitical decline. Here are five things I noticed after spending one week in Kiev this spring:

1. Western ideas are starting to infect the minds of Ukrainians

While still at a low level, you’re starting to hear more buzz words from the government and cultural elite about “equality,” “openness,” and “opportunity.” Even though there is more nationalism in the sense that people firmly believe in the Ukrainian nation, Ukrainians are buying into the degenerate cultural package that Brussels and Washington are selling. To be like the successful countries of Western Europe, they are told, a good start is to let homosexuals parade on the streets, which happened over the summer.

Oligarch Petro Poroshenko’s support of homosexuals was the first time ever that a Ukrainian leader openly endorsed butt sex. It’s no surprise that he has unwavering support from the US State Department.

2. Women don’t want to live in Ukraine

The great exodus of Ukrainian women has accelerated. Unlike my previous trips, women are no longer playing coy about wanting to live in the West, and are stating it quickly after you meet them. I can see this firsthand in Poland, which has a steady influx of Ukrainians. In no uncertain terms, Ukraine is a failed state that does not have the confidence of its young people, particularly women, and they will now eager seek relationships with foreign men who hold the olive branch of getting them out.

In the past, you would have to “sell” to most women that you like Ukraine and want to stay in order to get into relationships with them, but now that will actually hurt you, because what deranged soul would want to stay in a collapsing nation? The optimum game has become saying that you don’t like Ukraine and can’t wait to return to your comfortable middle-class Western home, one that needs a good woman.

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3. Women still want long-term relationships

By default, Ukrainian women want long-term relationships. You can of course extract easy sex from the more promiscuous class of Ukrainian women, but going to Ukraine for easy sex is the same as going to America to find a wife—it’s possible but a foolish choice. If you’re horny and want sex, go to Poland instead, where the quality is lower but the women are faster. For relationships and marriage, Ukraine is a better bet. Looking back, it was silly of me to go to Ukraine while I was still in my humping phase.

4. Women don’t want an office career

The job market is so hopeless in Ukraine, with practically no chance of upward social mobility, that you won’t find any girl who tells you her dream is establishing a “career” for several years before finding a husband. Girls go to school because there isn’t anything else to do or just to buy time, because they know that their main asset is their womb. This is quite refreshing because Poland is stock full of ambitious women who will dedicate over a decade of their lives to push paper for a corporation instead of finding out how to develop themselves in a way that serves men. The masculinization of Polish women is frightening indeed.

5. The worst Ukrainian girls go to nightclubs

One of the reasons that my first trip to Ukraine wasn’t as good as the subsequent trips is that I initially focused almost exclusively on meeting women in clubs. What I didn’t realize then that I do now is that only a certain type of Ukrainian woman goes to clubs. This is obvious after realizing how few clubs per capita there are in Ukraine compared to Western cities.

For example, the city of Kharkov has a city population similar to Washington DC but less than 5% the number of nightlife venues. This tells you that the far majority of Ukrainian girls don’t even go out at night. It’s not something they experience outside of random birthday parties, and when they do, it’s definitely not meet a random cock to take home.

If you want to meet a decent Ukrainian girl, don’t go to nightclubs. You meet only a certain type of girl that clouds your judgement on them as a whole. You should instead try to meet girls through social or professional circles.

Even day game, which works in Ukraine, still selects for a certain type of girl, because the culture there is such that meeting a random guy off the street is simply not normal. It’s no surprise that the type of Ukrainian girls that Western men meet through day game are often the ones who like to go out at night, travel, talk to foreign men, and so on. That said, day game in Ukraine is still a fine way to meet a great girl, but the more integrated you are into a social circle there, the better woman you’ll get.

What lies for the future of Ukraine?

It’s clear that Ukraine, as it exists today, can not survive without USA money and support. The separatists in the East control big chunks of important industry and the economy has essentially ground to a halt. Smart Ukrainians are looking for the exits and only those in the Western part of the country, seduced by the idea of Ukrainian patriotism (and power), think there is any hope for the future. Once the incompetent political elite in the USA is finished destroying Ukraine like it has done to so many countries in the Middle East, there won’t be much left.

Ukraine was never a comfortable place to live, but now it’s pretty tough, and no one there will understand why you choose to spend time there. You’d have to straight-up be an oddball to want to stay in the shithole that Ukraine is becoming just to get laid, and telling a girl that you “love” Ukraine just won’t be believed anymore. That said, it’s easier now than ever for you to pluck a Ukrainian beauty and get her out of there, but of course that leaves a big question mark for what could happen if you bring her into the West, where her diabolical Slavic genes could be switched on to your detriment.

Unless you are looking for a serious relationship, I can’t think of a reason to spend much time in Ukraine. It’s not stable, the women are leaving in droves, and it’s just not a pleasant place to live (as if it ever was). With talk that within a year or two Ukrainians will join the Muslim invaders in being allowed visa-free travel to anywhere in Europe, that means that glory days of going to Ukraine for some fun is coming to an end.

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The biggest regret I have in my many years of travel is not learning the local language in countries I’ve ended up staying for the long term. I would be more than conversational in Polish and Russian today if I just adhered to one simple rule: learn the language of a country you have been in for two weeks or longer. This means that you start your language studies on day fifteen of any trip.

Even if you’re doing a short one-month trip to a country, you should still make attempts to study the language for at least an hour a day no later than the third week. The reason is that your knowledge compounds over time to greatly increase your enjoyment within the country, making it easier to get around, make friends, and meet women. Every word you learn is like one extra dollar in an interest-bearing bank account. The more words you learn, the more you ability “compounds,” due to the simple fact that learning one additional word increase the number of new sentences you can speak by greater than one, especially after you’ve surpassed a vocabulary of 250 words.

I spent a year in Ukraine. During that time I only studied Russian for a couple months. I tried to make up for it by studying while in Poland to prepare for a long Russian stay in 2014, but I ended up staying in Russia for less than two months. If I followed my rule, I would have studied the language when I needed it (while living in Ukraine), and saved time not studying it when I didn’t even use it.

I have spent more than two years in Poland. I’ve studied the language for less than six months. If I only studied one hour a day while living there, I’d be at least conversational, but now I’m embarrassed with my Polish language level. I’ve spent enough time in Eastern European countries that I feel like a Mexican immigrant to the USA who doesn’t speak English.

The purpose of the two-week rule is to link language learning to time spent in countries instead of predictions or dreamy intentions of how long you think you’ll spend in them. You should put far less weight on studying a language before you get there than when you’re actually settled. I wouldn’t discourage your pre-trip studying, but it’s easy to make a huge misallocation of your time by studying languages for countries you don’t even end up liking.

I devised this rule based on a regressive analysis of my travel habits. If I followed it, my fluency in languages would match my actual time spent within countries. Instead, I have a mismatch of language fluency because I studied languages based on where I thought I’d stay in the future instead of where I actually stayed. I’ve learned from that mistake. Now if I’m in a country for two weeks, on day 15 I will crack open a book or hire a tutor and put in my one-hour a day. I’ll be better served by it.

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Between 2008-2014, I noticed a degradation of DC nightlife and women each time I came back home from a trip abroad. Its decline was a major contributing factor in my expatriation to Eastern Europe, where I currently reside, but for my past two consecutive trips to DC, I’ve noticed that the city is no longer getting worse, across several areas.

Male-female Ratio: DC is still a sausage fest, and always will be thanks to the government and military jobs in the area, but the ratio has stabilized. If you go out early on the weekends, starting at 10pm, you will encounter quite favorable ratios that only start to flip around midnight. It may even be worth going out at 9pm when girls are wrapping up their foodie dinners.

Female Obesity: DC has plenty of land whales, especially among the black population, but they’re not getting fatter. Many foreign and white girls are only a few pounds overweight. Unfortunately, some women go in the wrong direction for their weight problems by doing CrossFit, which gives them a body of a boy who just went through puberty. I rather date a fattie than a muscular woman.

Female Style and Appearance: I was surprised to see many girls wearing heels in the bars. If I visited during the summer, I may have seen them wearing flip flops instead, but in my most recent trip that ended last week, they were dressed up quite nicely. Many girls had long hair and a select few had a rather sexy look.

Female Attitude: A growing problem here is that girls get triggered very easily if you say anything politically incorrect, but as long as you avoid political discussions, you could have pleasant interactions. I only did a handful of approaches on the latest trip, and didn’t try to get laid, but I wasn’t blown out or treated poorly. The girls seemed open to getting approached, probably because guys are doing it less than before. The game I saw being done was mostly by black men on white girls.

These observations come from going to places I already knew, so it’s quite possible that there are even better DC venues I haven’t been to yet. If I was forced to live in DC for an extended period of time, such as in the case of a relative getting sick, I would live near a Whole Foods for day game and find two or three medium-sized bars within walking distance of my apartment to do 2-5 approaches about twice a week. To supplement these efforts, I would try to find international venues where I could easily show value with European au pairs. I would also increase my target age range. In Eastern Europe I focus on 21-25 year olds, but in America I’d go for 24-29 year olds since large age gaps take more effort to pull off in the States. If I made all those changes, I could probably manage okay in DC without falling into a suicidal depression.

Since the introduction of smartphones and social networking, we haven’t had any new shocks which would degrade women further. Almost every woman you encounter has owned a smartphone for more than five years. Her behavior declines in the first couple of years upon using a smartphone or other new cultural invention and then stabilizes. This is why DC women are not getting worse but Eastern European women are: the smartphone was adopted widely in the latter much later. Once Eastern Europe bottoms out in the next couple of years, I’ll probably find that the behavior of American and Eastern European women overlap much more than before the smartphone.

I must stress how shocked I was to see so many American women wearing heels. In Eastern Europe, a Scandinavian hipster fashion has taken over, and many girls under 25 now wear sneakers to the club. Even in Ukraine, the country with the most feminine women on Earth, there are more hipsters with tattoos than before. These foreign trends are expected because culture has become globalized—women in different countries consume similar media on the same devices while eating the same types of food. American girls who remain thin can soon compete well on a world stage, not because they’re improving, but because foreign women are getting worse. Once those foreign women hit a bottom, which will take 2-4 more years, they may not be that much better than American women.

Now that my player days are behind me, I don’t dread the idea of having to live in America like before, but I won’t come back anytime soon because of one reason: the cost. My living expenses in Eastern Europe are only 20-25% of what I would have to pay in DC for the same lifestyle. The only other real advantage I have in Eastern Europe is the ability to date younger girls who are more elegant and pleasing. I left to foreign lands for the adventure, freedom, and women, but it’s turning out that I stay because of money.

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I flew into Baltimore-Washington International airport in June of this year. After deboarding, I had to wait in line for an electronic kiosk to ask me questions I already answered on the paper U.S. Customs form I received on the airplane. The kiosk took a picture of me from what seemed like a one megapixel camera and printed out a slip that I had to give to the Customs agent. This time around, I noticed the slip had a gigantic X on it. I imagine they used a more subtle code in the past but the agents routinely missed it.

I waited in another line to be seen by an agent whose arms were covered in tattoos. Perhaps our government has generously offered ex-gangbangers the opportunity to turn their life around with a Federal job. He asked me no questions. He typed in a few sentences with two fingers, scribbled a code on the paper, and then let me pass onto the baggage claim. After retrieving my bag, I went into another line and handed off the slip of paper to the final agent. I already knew what was coming—I would get a secondary screening.

The new agent, also with tattoos on his arms, directed me to sit down in a waiting area. He yelled at an old Asian lady to take his spot at the line so that he could deal with me. He fiddled with a computer terminal for five minutes before calling me up. I handed over my passport but the computer system was down. He couldn’t get it to work. He was powerless to act and had to leave the terminal. Another agent, this time an Asian male with only one arm tattoo in cursive script, came to the terminal and got things working.

If you believe the propaganda, Customs and TSA agents are trained with advanced psychological techniques that can predict terrorism and other criminal behavior by identifying suspicious behavioral patterns. Did your left eye twitch at the same time your nose flared? You’re hiding something! Or maybe not, because the agents didn’t even make eye contact with me. If you asked them for the color of my eyes, they wouldn’t know. They followed the computer screen to know how to deal with me, a suspicious citizen who for some reason—probably terroristic—had decided not to live in the United States.

“Where have you been since you last left?” the agent asked.

I stated the Eastern European country I live in.

“Where do you live?”

“Same country.”

“Did you buy anything abroad?”

“A shot glass and a bar of dark chocolate.”

“What do you do?” he asked, still staring at the screen.

“I have an internet business.”

“What kind of internet business?”

“I maintain web sites that sell advertising and products.”

The IRS already knows what I do, so I wondered why Customs also had to know. Their computers must not be linked. A part of me wanted to resist the questioning. I wanted to say, “Why do you want to know what I do?” But I was tired. I was on the road for eighteen hours. Communist interrogators in the Lubyanka have long known to deprive their victims of sleep to weaken their will, a technique that the American military and spy agencies use themselves. I wouldn’t last a minute under a real interrogation.

And what if I did resist? The agent, who may have 8 IQ points more than a Walmart clerk—a quip that is sure to guarantee more secondary screenings for me in the future—would be relieved at finding someone he can exercise his power on. Will they confiscate my laptop for kicks or maybe delay my ability to exit the airport for a couple more hours? Even if I win the battle, the system would remain in place. The computer algorithm would keep telling the agents who to hassle, and nothing would change unless it came from the top.

I wondered if they were asking me stupid questions to get me to submit to them, to make me love Big Brother. No, that can’t be it, because then they would do it to others at a far greater frequency. They really want to know where I get my money. Some genius in the State department must think that criminals can be rooted out by asking someone for their profession. He didn’t even ask me what my web sites were. If I had lied, which would have been a Federal crime, how would he discover the lie without following up?

The agent typed for several minutes, far more words than than the dozen or so I said to him, before wishing me a good evening. He never looked at the stamps in my passport or examined my bag.

I’ve now had “secondary” twice in the United States. You’d think there would be some trust for a fellow citizen arriving to his homeland, but in a country where anyone can be made a citizen, and when your neighbor can be from halfway across the world, bringing with him habits that seem strange, such as cooking goat heads, trust is no longer possible. Soon everyone must be treated like a criminal. I suppose it holds true that no matter what type of prison you’re entering, whether encased in bars or open air, the guards are required to ask questions and check you for contraband.

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You’ve been working hard on the job and now have some vacation days to use. Your boss was chafed when you suggested taking two weeks off so you settled for one week, which you believe is still more than enough time to unwind and relax. Wrong! Not only will a vacation not relax you, but it will create more stress than work.

The first day of your vacation is spent traveling to the destination. If you’re lucky, it will take only two hours, but odds are it will take at least six. You’re either crammed on an airplane or driving on a road full of other people who want to relax just like you. Already, tension is building.

After finally arriving at your vacation spot, things start to go wrong. The hotel room doesn’t have a good view. The wireless internet is too slow. You forgot your beach towel at home. You picked a bad area of town to stay in. You take off your shoes and try to relax, but now you’re hungry. You find a restaurant that sells you a bland pizza that is priced more than your favorite pizzeria back home. You go to sleep on a strange bed with pillows that are way too big, and then you wake up the next day with nausea and painful stomach cramps. You’re sick! And what are these itchy red marks on your ankles? Bed bugs! Only six more days to go.

Now imagine you have children. The stress will increase by a factor of ten. By the end of the first day, you need a vacation from your vacation. Things will go much harder than the work you tried to take a break from.

As your “vacation” proceeds, you feel obligated to pack in as many activities as possible. Tours. Excursions. Watersports. Sightseeing. Scooter rental. Souvenir shopping. Tower climbing. Cemetary viewing. Clubbing. Selfie taking. You must not miss out on anything, because it took time and money to get here, and you may never return.

Soon your legs get weary. You’re walking more in one day than you normally do in a week. That bed is impossible to sleep in, and you can’t seem to get the room climate right. Now you’re running a sleep deficit. There are bags under your eyes, and holy cow, the vacation is almost done. Check-out is 11am tomorrow!

The pictures and souvenirs are proof that you went on vacation, but really the vacation went on you. On the way back home, you almost drive off the road because you’re so tired, and when you do make it to your bed, you immediately crash and enjoy the best sleep you’ve had all week, and then before you know it, the alarm clock is blaring at 8am. Back to work!

Relaxation is the absence of activity, not an exchange of one set of activities for another. Reducing stress means you must reduce the stimuli that your senses receive. A vacation accomplishes the opposite. It’s merely a commercial method to part money from office workers who want to feel relaxed in a novel, exciting way, when what they should really do is vegetate at home for days as if getting over the flu.

You can’t force your body to relax. All you can do is put it in a boring, calm, and familiar environment where it has no choice but to do so. Travel is meant to see things you want to see and be stimulated by new experiences. Going on vacation to relax is like drinking a double espresso to help you nap. If you insist on a vacation that involves travel, I hope you’re staying in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, but even then, the tension of going and coming from an isolated location will nullify the couple of days you experience nothingness.

When it’s time for me to relax, I plant myself on the couch, get a beer, and watch mindless entertainment. Anything else will simply be too much.

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As the world becomes increasingly globalized and connected, different countries are starting to look the same. This country has the same kebab as that country. This country has the same fashion as that country. This country has the same English speakers who believe in the same things as that country. They are all becoming nothing more than coworking spaces, uniquely designed “offices” that are “fun” for slaves to work and socialize in.

You can blame the internet, airplanes, Hollywood, or what have you, but the world is being robbed not only of its cultural diversity but also human diversity. New York, Washington D.C., London, Berlin, and Sydney have the same alien caste system of leftist white workers managing their hopeful colored pets, all looking for “opportunity” and “success.” People in these cities may live thousands of miles away from each other, but they think and behave in the same ways and are trained to respond to globohomo stimuli in the same sterilized consumer manner.

Even if you visit an exotic locale, where you take pictures of the major sights from the same angles as thousands of other people, or you have a genuine moment with a local, which you have to tell everyone lest the experience go to waste, odds are you will add nothing to your being by stepping foot in another country. You won’t learn another language, you won’t experience struggle besides a blocked credit card, and you won’t go a single minute without access to your favorite internet sites. Go to this coworking space downtown or that coworking space in midtown—what’s the difference besides the size of your desk and the decorations hanging on the walls? I can receive more novelty today by going on YouTube than visiting another European city.

If countries are like coworking spaces, our sexual partners are like rental cars. It starts with the exciting moment you ease yourself into the seat of a car you’ve never driven before, and proceed to ride it aggressively since you know you’ll never have to buy it. You’ll slam the door harder than necessary and put in the cheapest gas you can find. It’s okay if you dent it up a little—just tell the rental agency that it was there beforehand, and get angry if they disagree. There is no feeling of ownership, no sense of pride.

What better way to go to your coworking space than in a rental car. You feel stable, as if you are part of the local community, but you’ll have to give the rental car back in a week or so, and the coworking space gets boring after you’ve had your fill of their free coffee and sweets. So off to another space in another rental car for another hyper-sexualized and commercialized experience that is barely different from the previous one. You embark on a futile attempt to undergo what conquerors and explorers of old have experienced, yet they put their lives on the line while you are reluctant to even sacrifice mobile internet.

Everywhere is different, but everywhere is also the same. Once you hit a certain age, there will be nothing left in the external world to pleasure you. Anything truly novel or special will have already been packaged and neatly delivered to your eyes, ears, and genitals. You won’t help but feel nostalgic, to imagine that things had to be better in the past, that meaning was constant and always flowing, and whether that is true or not, if the external world is already conquered, all that’s left to explore is the internal.

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Towards the end of 2018, after a continuous two-year stint in Poland, I spent nearly three months in the Serbian city of Novi Sad. I went to Serbia not necessarily because I heard it was amazing, but to reduce the regret I may feel later for not visiting a country that I heard has traditional women. Here are seven observations I made about Serbian women during my time there…

1. Serbian women are attractive

Serbian girls are mostly thin with handsome, olive-shaped faces. While you will not be wowed by most Serbian girls, you will also not be disappointed. Their bodies are lacking in curves and take on more of a swimmer’s shape of strong shoulders and narrow waist. Men who like butts will not at all be happy with their flat rear-ends. In spite of that flaw, their appearance is pleasant, and thanks to their higher levels of melanin, they age quite well. It was rare to see a 50-year-old Serbian woman in the shape of a rectangular box like you consistently see in Poland and Ukraine.

2. They possess average femininity

They are far less feminine than Ukrainian girls and slightly less feminine than Polish girls. Serbian girls have a sporty personality—they enjoy physical activity, comfortable clothing, and gym wear. Yoga pants and tennis shoes are so common that many Serbian girls appear to be eternally on the way to the gym. Such a constant sporty style in Ukraine would mean the girl is a lesbian, but in Serbia it’s the norm.

Many Western men told me that Serbian girls are feminine, but I did not strongly perceive that, though they are far more feminine than American girls. Serbian girls are not vulgar, and are rather pleasant, but my particular masculine essence did not feel drawn to them. The most feminine girl I met during my stay was actually Ukrainian.

3. They smoke a lot of cigarettes

Around 50% of Serbian women smoke, which is enabled by permissive indoor-smoking laws. I can’t think of a habit that is more odorous than smoking, so this did discourage me from seeing Serbian women as long-term potential.

4. They are initially very curious about foreigners

Most girls were eager to talk to me. They seemed genuinely excited that I was an American and would give me wide-eyed looks that suggested strong emotional attraction, but that fell apart when things moved to the phone because Serbian girls pick their men based on logic instead of emotion. They evaluate you based on dozens of factors that have little to do with their excited initial response.

One possible solution to this problem for a fornicator is to go for the one-night stand, but that’s impractical in most cases because nightlife is structured around social groups camped out near isolated tables. Besides, if I wanted one-night stands, I would have stayed in Poland. I had hoped Serbia would give me something deeper when it came to relationships, but I realized it would take too much time, and I’m too burned-out from women to have the patience.

There are two options that foreign men have: go to Belgrade for the sluttiest Serbian girls, who are completely Westernized and are passed around among foreign men, or stick around for many months and be selected in a logical manner by a nice girl who wants you to be her boyfriend because of the value you have outside of your game or look.

5. They are very schizophrenic when it comes to intimacy

One minute, a Serbian girl can be the most passionate in the world, biting your tongue off and thrusting her hip into you. The next minute, she goes completely cold and wants to leave. When it comes to sex, a Serbian girl’s mind needs far more time to want it than her body. She needs to know—and not just feel—that you are a good choice for intimacy, but this takes time, which means you will encounter more resistance to casual sex than elsewhere.

If I was still fornicating, this would be frustrating, and I would attack Serbian women with all manner of insults, but I was pleased that there are women in the world who respected their body and put a strong barrier to sex. That said, you will still find many women in the clubs who don’t mind fornication, especially with a foreign man who won’t expose her as a slut to the local community.

6. They don’t care about money

Compared to an average Serbian man, I am considered “wealthy” just for being from America. I don’t mind a girl who sees that as a positive, but Serbian girls do not care that you have a nice apartment in the middle of town or that you can buy as many coffees and chocolate croissants as you want. In fact, a “rich” foreigner is lower on their scale than an average Serbian man. They are simply not drawn to money, and I really wish they were because it would have made my life a lot easier.

Consider the situation with Ukrainian girls, who analyze every fiber of your outfit and the square footage of your apartment to calculate your long-term potential. In this respect, Serbian girls are similar to Polish girls by offering to pay on dates with no seeming interest in your wallet. If you think you’re going to Serbia to show off your wealth and get the best girls, you are sorely mistaken. They value your social status far more.

7. They prefer Serbian men

Serbian women want a handsome Serbian man to take home to mom and dad and show off to their friends. Dating a foreign man who is disconnected from their culture is actually a display of no value or lower value for the other girls in her social group. Therefore, if you encounter a Serbian girl who doesn’t like Serbian men, something is very wrong with her. She rejects her country, her traditions, her homeland, her men, and probably her Orthodox Christian faith, meaning she is almost certainly a slut who you will bang quickly.

In Poland and Ukraine, it’s exceedingly common for women to complain about their men before banging you, but in Serbia I heard so few complaints that I couldn’t help but conclude that they saw me as having far less value than an average Serbian man. The one foreign man I know who did the best in Serbia not so coincidentally has Serbian ancestry.

Conclusion

Serbia is one of the most traditional countries I’ve been to, with strong family bonds and no cultural promotion of homosexuality. It may be the healthiest place I’ve stepped foot in when it comes to having a family, but connecting with women takes time. While they do loosen up at night, your best bet on a short trip if you want to fornicate is to find a slut and have fun with her, but that cancels out the positive traditional aspect you may want to experience like with me. The only solution I see is to stay for a while and develop genuine social bonds with the locals, because the best way to meet a “good” Serbian girl is to get introduced to her instead of picking her up, especially one in her early 20s who is not in any race to get married.

If I wanted to do things properly in Serbia, and get the best I could based on my far more limited energy compared to my youth, I would have to commit to living there for 6-12 months, make a lot of friends, and essentially “become” Serbian. Otherwise, I’d only get the sluts, which are far more readily available in other Eastern European countries.

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I’m back on the road after spending the past five months at home with my mother in the Washington D.C. suburbs. My bird-watching abilities have declined and I’ve become a little too comfortable in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies and delicious Neapolitan pizzas. It’s time to be a man again.

I’m embarking on an open-ended trip around the eastern part of the country. My plan is to enjoy the outdoors through camping, an activity I have done for only a single night about fifteen years ago. I fear I have gone so far with easy, cosmopolitan living that camping will be chafing to me, but I’ll soon find out. So I don’t embarrass myself in the forest, I bought a useful book called Survivor Kid, an indication of my level of expertise.

I’m not sure if I will do a video travelogue like last time with Babylon Road. If you watch that series, you will be able to see the early rumblings of the chaos in which American cities are now fully embroiled. Until I decide, I intend to continue posting articles while on my trip.

May God grant me safe passage while I travel during this tumultuous time.

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The following is an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim.

I decided to visit the gay pride parade to film footage for my YouTube video travelogue. I knew I’d be walking into the biggest exhibition of homosexuality in the world, so I prayed on the subway ride over that what I was about to see wouldn’t corrupt me further or make me hate others. I got off at the 14th Street subway stop and walked up the stairs into the middle of Sodom.

I was greeted by a group of black women twerking in the middle of the street. Large groups of gays and their supporters walked by, fully decked out in rainbow paraphernalia. Most surprising of all was that most of the attendees were straight women of college age with slim figures and long hair, dressed up as if they were attending a music festival like Coachella, with little ribbons tied around their arms and their skin coated with a shotgun blast of glitter. I walked by one such female on the sidewalk, and she was sticking out her tongue in front of her smartphone to get the perfect selfie, barely able to keep her eyes open from whatever drug she had taken that wanted to close them.

I walked closer to the parade line. Huge groups of gays in skimpy clothing roamed free, unafraid of judgment. I passed by a restaurant named Garden of Eden, reminding me of where I was not. I made it to the parade line and was greeted by an overweight, shirtless black man wearing a gimp face mask. His leather pants were so low that I could see his curly pubic hair. Then another group of gays arrived in full bondage gear, whooping it up as if they owned the city. Beside me a white man and Asian girl couple was taking a selfie with several transsexuals in the background. I imagined it would receive an inordinate number of likes on their Instagram accounts. A parade float sponsored by American Airlines came through with multiple gays and transsexuals dressed as flamboyant flight attendants. The crowd was cheering, waving their rainbow flags and yelling, “Happy pride!” An Irish Pride float followed, and then I looked to my left and saw three topless women, significantly overweight, with random words scrawled across their bodies.

It’s one thing to see homosexual activists online, but it’s another to see them up close. They are not a niche community and they are not small fry. The gays may be small in absolute numbers, but their corporate sponsors and government enablers have elevated them to be one of the most privileged groups of our time. Their straight allies shout down men like me for being “bigots” while elevating the naked obese women and the black man with visible pubic hair as paragons of virtue.

Based on the huge presence of heterosexual women, I concluded that all gay propaganda, from the rainbow flag to the empty slogan “Love is love,” is not targeted at gays at all but straight women. It is meant to suck them into a degenerate lifestyle of fornication and intoxication, to develop a hatred for the type of man who is most capable of creating a strong family and resisting the evils of homosexuality. The purpose of gay pride is not only to pat gays on the back but to destroy female innocence, to bombard them with a lifestyle of sex and drugs, to render them sterile. And it’s working, because I was stunned at how many attractive women were cheering with their gay flags, at how many women were being pulled down by Satan into hell.

I was happy to leave New York City. Apart from the birdbath in Central Park, I had seen nothing good for a soul that was trying to be good. Everything about the city attempts to draw you into the cult of the world. Many who live there are convincing themselves that New York City is the best city in the country, and that they’re living the best life possible, when they’re actually living like a diseased rat, soaking in filth, excrement, and sulfur. Just trying to eke out a living in New York City requires such an obsession with the material in the name of “making it” that the spiritual life is unlikely to happen. I must conclude that God has forsaken New York City. He abandoned her long ago, and I can only wonder whether He will enact judgment upon the city in my lifetime.

The above was an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim, available in ebook or paperback. Click here to order your copy.

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The following is an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim.

Madison was also full of attractive and naïve-looking young women thanks to the University of Wisconsin. My first experience with one was in a supermarket. I asked the female clerk for a bonus card to save a few cents on my shopping. She asked for my mailing address. When I made an offhand comment about being from “out of town,” she interviewed me about where I was from and what I was doing in Wisconsin. Telling her that I was on a massive road trip was all that was needed for her eyes to open wide and give me a long stare. When a man receives such a look, intimacy is not far away. It would have been effortless at that point to get her number, but instead I got my bonus card and walked off.

Later while at a Starbucks, a series of young women who were alone sat next to me. Two were attractive enough, and starting a conversation with them as an out-of-towner would have been natural. There were more young women on the streets and many of them made eye contact. These women weren’t the hottest I had seen, but they were cute and young. A six out of ten in Madison is an eight in many other parts of America, and based on the excessive public display of leftist catchphrases, I doubt they would have objected to casual sex. Maybe I received so much attention because the young men possessed an effeminate manner, making affirmative statements with the intonation of a question. The hours dragged on and the girls kept looking at me. They were dying to interact with a man! Why Madison has a flood of soy boys, whereas I hardly saw any in the cities of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, I do not know.

I knew that my lust could quickly be sated by the women of Madison, who were leftist enough to engage in premarital sex but not so leftist to be ugly. It reminded me of Poland, a country I had lived in for five years that had the exact same type of female. I could stay in Madison for one night and resist the temptation on willpower alone, but to live here would pose a great difficulty for me, because it was obvious that women would give me enough attention that I could unconsciously transmute into sex.

The women of Madison were so starved of masculinity that even a stony look could elicit their submission. In the afternoon I was on the street filming a homeless encampment for my travelogue. As I finished recording a clip, I heard the voice of a woman ten feet away saying, “Why is he doing that? He shouldn’t do that.” I put my phone away as she geared up to make another statement of complaint. Then I stood still and stared at her. Immediately, she looked away and stopped talking to her male friend, who didn’t look at me either.

The temptation continued in La Crosse, Wisconsin, even though it had a fraction of the university students as Madison. In my brief walk through the center, a beautiful brunette locked eyes with me. I had the opportunity to approach her with a basic “Do you know where I can find…?” opener, but I let the opportunity pass.

I went to the fast-food restaurant Culver’s for a meal. The young woman who served me was excessively friendly, as if she had targeted me specifically to release her affections. When I was leaving and walking out the door, she shouted after me to ask if I enjoyed the meal. She seemed eager to converse further.

At the cheap hotel where I stayed the night, the front desk was staffed by a woman with a thick Eastern European accent. Before I could ask her where she was from, she asked me. It turned out that she was from Iaşi, Romania, a city I happened to live in for three months, a fact that excited her. Arranging for some kind of date after her shift to “talk about life in Romania” would have been a foregone conclusion. I had been presented with a number of potential sexual opportunities for two straight days. In the past, I’d celebrate this fact and bless my luck, but now I cursed it and suspected some form of demonic attack.

If Satan wanted to get me, he could send an attractive girl to one of my events, and have her make it obvious that she wanted to engage in fornication immediately. It might seem that I was helping him by thinking this way but Satan already knew my weaknesses. He and his lieutenants had been examining me my whole life, and knew exactly how to trip me up. Without God’s help, I had no chance, and would fail on the very first temptation, but with God’s grace, I just might make it.

The above was an excerpt from my new book American Pilgrim, available in ebook or paperback. Click here to order your copy.

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On the drive to St. Louis last fall, I expected the worst. I had already been to numerous large American cities the year before and experienced firsthand the rot and the degeneracy, which I chronicled in my book American Pilgrim. I was confident that St. Louis would be yet another name to add to the trash heap, especially since I had seen in the news that its local politics were veering leftward, but to my surprise, St. Louis is tied with Charlotte in North Carolina as the best American city I have been to with a metropolitan population of at least one million. Here are a few reasons why…

1. There are not many homeless people

Compared to the West Coast, St. Louis does not have a visible homeless problem. In California, for example, the homeless are becoming more assertive in taking over prime real estate and making demands upon the public thanks to creating alliances with local communist movements that claim housing is a human right which should be given to all people of working age who choose not to work. Perhaps there are homeless encampments in St. Louis, but I did not see them. This made St. Louis rather clean and tidy.

2. The gays are not nearly as flamboyant

After my first couple of days in St. Louis, I wondered, “Where are all the sodomites?” I did not see any obvious gays on the streets or overhear conversations in gay uptalk. I did visit a hipster area of town and was ready to be surrounded by homosexuals, but I only saw two or three, and it’s possible they were actually straight. St. Louis had the least amount of gays who were proud to be out of the closest compared to any other American city of comparable size, and while the gays here may be in the closet, I suspect that there are fewer of them.

3. The suburbs are pleasing

The suburbs around Washington D.C. are Federal control zones for importing third-world immigrants, either from Latin America or Eastern Africa. The white people ran away from the area long ago to the exurbs of Virginia, Maryland, and even West Virginia (e.g. Harpers Ferry). In St. Louis, the suburb I stayed in on the western side of the city, Chesterfield, was almost entirely white. It’s the whitest place I’ve been to in the States. It was even whiter than even some Polish cities I’ve been to. It almost felt like a white ethnostate, and I was shocked that such an area could be so white.

Many of the suburban whites in St. Louis vote for Democrats, but I find living around secular whites easier and safer than secular blacks because the latter are prone to making more noise, using drugs openly, and littering, among other misdeeds. But if you don’t mind living around blacks, you can find a home on the eastern side of St. Louis where they congregate. You can pick and choose an area since the races in St. Louis prefer to self-segregate.

4. Clear English is spoken in retail environments

I’ve gotten used to having communication problems with ethnic and vibrant clerks at coffee shops and supermarket deli counters, not helped by mask-wearing and its concealment of mouths. Many of the clerks around D.C. are immigrants and don’t have a grasp of English like natives do, and even natives, soaked in a culture of hip hop and slang, can’t be entirely expected to understand my plain English, which is why I’m not totally against the trend of electronic kiosks and self-checkout machines.

In St. Louis, I did not have a single communication problem. Every commercial worker I interacted with understood my English and I understood them. This reduced a lot of my inner angst.

5. Highways are in decent condition

This may be a minor point, but I did enjoy the St. Louis highways, especially Route 64, which dissects the city from east to west. The local roads were also well-maintained without any potholes. My only complaint is that there were too many traffic lights. If you’re a foreigner and wondering how the condition of the roads can contribute to calling St. Louis the best city in America, you must be aware of the general lowly state of the country at this point in history. Most American cities I’ve been to do not have any positives at all.

Conclusion

And one reason I do not like St. Louis is… it’s still America. St. Louis may be the best big city in America, but it’s only the best of the worst, like saying In-and-Out burger is the best fast-food burger restaurant when comparing it to the GMO sludge of McDonald’s and Burger King.

Unfortunately, St. Louis is firmly on the path of spiritual death and material decline. The left is taking over the city and persecuting law-abiding citizens such as the McCloskeys, and when they finally take down the Apotheosis of St. Louis statue (after a failed attempt in the summer of 2020), you will be able to arrive at the conclusion that St. Louis is dead. Until that moment happens, it’s one of the most materially pleasant cities I’ve visited. May it be granted many more years before the inevitable.

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While working a construction job in Montgomery, I had the opportunity to know the city. I was warned by many to stay away from Montgomery, that it was overly vibrant, but compared to Washington D.C. and Baltimore, it was tolerable. Here are nine things I learned…

1. It makes demographic sense

You have white people who speak English and you have black people who speak English. All identify as Americans. In a nominal sense, all worship the same Christian God. The whites behave in a mostly uniform way and the blacks behave in a mostly uniform way. Whites have their own areas and blacks have their own areas. I quickly learned how to deal with both groups and didn’t have any problems with either, even though some black areas of the city were rough.

In Washington D.C., there is no demographic logic. The gates to the city have long since been opened to the world so the result is an environment built on the template of an international airport. Once you walk out your front door, you are surrounded by all the world’s religions and odors. You cannot guess which second or third language that you learned long ago will aid you on your tasks for the day. In Montgomery, there were practically no surprises, resulting in far less personal tension and confusion.

2. Southern Baptists have stronger faith than other Protestant denominations

It’s easy for a Catholic or Orthodox Christian to needle Protestants, but I can’t say much bad about the Southern Baptists I met in Montgomery. Their faith was significantly stronger than other Protestants I’ve encountered, especially compared to the Northeast. Many men shared Biblical views to me which would have made them zealous converts to the Orthodox Church.

The principal flaw I saw in their faith is their lack of spiritual tools to block out worldly addictions and demonic deception. They are also undergoing subversion from within, so if I return to Montgomery in a decade, I would expect to find weaker faith and an increased tolerance of sodomy.

3. Southern hospitality is real

Let me first tell you about Middle Eastern hospitality. If you arrive at my Armenian mother’s house unexpectedly, she will stop all she’s doing to serve you. She will use her creative genius to make a meal from random ingredients in her pantry and find varieties of tea I didn’t even know she had. She will sit you down, ensure you are comfortable, and anticipate your needs. She will give you what you didn’t know you wanted. When your water glass is half empty, she will fill it even though you don’t want more water. I advise you to visit her on an empty stomach because she will ply you with food.

Then there is my Iranian father and stepmom. In their house, your genuine exclamation of being “full” will be totally ignored as waves of food are brought out. Once you finish a piece of cake—and you must eat it or else you will get into an argument with the host—you will think the gluttonous ordeal is over, but here comes a basket of grapes, apples, oranges, and other fruits you didn’t know were in season. And there may be some imported confections after that, and how bought some nuts and pistachios? You’re expected to eat most of it, because you don’t want to insult the host, do you? I am my father’s son yet not a meal goes by where I’m not urged to eat double my bodily requirement.

The hospitality of a typical American is more of a self-serve buffet model, to put it as kindly as I can. You will often not be offered anything, not even a glass of water, but if you want to get it yourself, the host will instruct you how to do so. A question I’ve often had to ask in the homes of my American friends is “I’m so very thirsty—can I please have a glass of water?” and then when I’m granted permission, I must ask, “Where are the glasses?” You can visit my mother’s house for years, but you will never know the location of the glasses, and she will reprimand you if you dare pick up your own dishes and carry them to the sink. Of course I am grateful for even the glass of water that I have to retrieve, but there is quite an irreconcilable gulf between American and Middle Eastern hospitality.

Enter Southern hospitality. They are the middle ground between these two extremes. They offer you food but are not overbearing. They go out of their way to serve you but do not force it. They are not put off by unexpected guests and are generous with their food even if they don’t have much. Their hospitality was pleasant and graceful, and closer to what I have experienced for most of my life.

4. They love junk food

I was astonished not only by the sheer number of fast food restaurants in Montgomery but the fact that they were always busy, including brands that you thought died long ago, like Hardees. The population is so satisfied by fast food that there are practically no restaurants that aren’t a chain brand. Perhaps two or three restaurants in the entire city have what I would define as a craft burger that is not cooked from frozen meat. The food culture is rather abysmal, and it is here that I stepped up my own cooking.

5. The black population is very high

There are a lot of blacks in Montgomery, enough to scare off any white liberal, but for me it was not a shock. I’m used to such enrichment (my high school was nearly 50% black), so Montgomery was almost a home away from home.

I was told there were tensions between whites and blacks in the city, but compared to where? I didn’t see this tension because the blacks in Montgomery don’t have a chip on their shoulder like the east coast blacks who analyze every infinitesimal action from a white as some type of racial offense or personal affront. I found the races in Montgomery to exist in a peaceful détente, perhaps because so many whites are armed. The most negative experience I had with a black was when a female Walmart greeter was aggressive in asking me to put on a face mask (I did not comply).

6. A lot of men served in the military

Most people you meet have either served in the military or know a direct relative who has. A lot of families have had multiple generations in military service, and only lately have many of the enlisted come to realize that the military is not what it once was.

7. Everyone you talk to identifies as a Christian

When talking to people in DC, I don’t drop God in a conversation because chances are they are secular or atheist. In Montgomery, people would drop God on me first, usually very early on, and from that I must conclude that I didn’t meet a single atheist while I was there. I could talk about “God’s plan” and they wouldn’t bat an eye. I could drop a verse from the Gospel and they would know it. Maybe the person I was talking to wasn’t devout, but almost everyone in Montgomery believed in God and had a basic understanding of the Bible. There was no need to filter your faith.

8. There is less disparity between the rich and poor

I did not see any obscene displays of wealth in Montgomery. While there is a large underclass, from my view it seemed that most of the inhabitants were in the middle-class category, tenuously getting by. The most common type of vehicle was a pickup truck, usually old and beat up, and rarely did I see a BMW or Mercedes-Benz.

Even in the rich areas of Montgomery, which I often worked in, the owners did not display a level of snobbiness that I would’ve expected. Most people are down to earth and have not made a false god out of money as I’ve seen on the east coast.

9. The driving is aggressive

The number one downside is insanely aggressive driving, usually by minorities. I have never been tailgated so often by impatient drivers. I guess everyone is in a rush to get to Hardees before it closes.

Conclusion

If you’ve never lived in a very black city, I don’t think you’d feel comfortable in Montgomery, but since I grew up around blacks as a kid (and survived to tell the tale), I didn’t have to make any adjustments besides cooking more often due to a lack of decent food options. When you account for all the pros and cons, moving to Montgomery from the DC suburbs was more a lateral move for me than anything. The fact that I can live in Montgomery without being annoyed or robbed frequently tells me that there probably aren’t many places in the United States that I couldn’t adapt to.

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It’s no secret that I like to visit monasteries. It took only three months from the time I accepted Lord Jesus Christ in my life to step foot in one. These visits have been so spiritually profitable to me that I recommend all those who believe in Christ to visit a monastery as soon as they are able. Below are some reasons why.

1. Monasteries are an integral part of the faith

There is no Orthodoxy without monasticism. It is the trunk holding up the branches and the leaves, comprised of men and women who strive to God with unceasing tears and prayers. In many cases, monks have been given exalted gifts by the Holy Spirit to aid in the salvation of the world. If monasteries were to suddenly disappear then I know the Day of Judgment is frighteningly near.

One of the reasons I left the Armenian Church is because they have no active monasteries in the United States. Parish life, as you know, can be shallow. As devout as many parishioners are, a Christian who attends parishes alone will be drawn into worldly cares. The after-Liturgy fellowship will feature as much talk about the secular world as the divine. This is not the case in monasteries, where you find faith that is deeper and a palpable repulsion to the dumb modern world. I look up to the monastics as torch-bearers into the Kingdom. Parish life provides filtered tap water, which is eminently suitable to drink, but the monasteries provide water directly from a fresh mountain spring.

2. There is more grace

Parishes have grace, but monasteries have more grace. I consider the monastery that I was baptized at, Holy Trinity in Jordanville, to be hallowed ground because of the millions of prayers that have taken place there alongside the relics of holy men (like Archbishop Averky and Metropolitan Philaret). I feel that holiness whenever I visit. There is more peace and calm, more spiritual insights and providence. Whenever I randomly meet someone in the monastery, I stop and consider that this meeting was likely ordained by God, and when that person unknowingly provides a missing piece of the puzzle that I had been searching for, I am not surprised.

It would make sense that grace would be higher in an area where more Orthodox prayers are performed. I also perceive grace from Christians in the parish, but in the secular world when talking to secular people, I rarely perceive grace.

3. You receive deeper spiritual guidance

I remember the first monk I ever talked to in Holy Cross Monastery in Wayne, West Virginia, which I detailed in my book American Pilgrim. I was overflowing with zeal but temptations also, and totally lacking in discernment when it came to understanding my thoughts and desires. The monk could see what was happening and went on to rattle my self-confidence, giving me the right amount of doubt to question my self-will, and for that I’m eternally thankful. If I did not speak to him, I would have made bigger mistakes.

If you do need spiritual guidance, ask for it when you arrive at the monastery (or contact them beforehand). The monks there tend not to bother people, so they will not attempt to serve you like you were at a restaurant. Request time with them.

4. You can win a gold medal at the Standing Olympics

Monasteries have more services… and they’re longer… and you have the ability to stand for hours each day. I must admit that I don’t even win a medal at the Standing Olympics. If there’s an opportunity to sit, such as during the reading of a Psalm, I will sit along with the old and infirm. I must train harder.

5. You feel more energized to serve God

The effect of a monastery visit is usually felt upon leaving. I had arrived with a partially depleted spiritual gas tank from being battered by the world, and now after a couple of days or even hours, my gas tank is full. I feel invigorated, fresh, and eager to serve God. I want to pray longer, fast harder, and withdraw more from the world.

Of course that invigoration fades over the next few days, but I have noticed that I advance a solid step in my faith after every monastic visit, sometimes several steps. There is always something new I learn or realize that helps me when I re-enter the world of the Washington D.C. suburbs to live amongst the secular hordes. If there were no monasteries, I don’t know how I could reliably refill my tank.

6. You receive great book recommendations

Do you know what’s better than book reviews on Amazon from anonymous consumers? Book reviews from monks! Tell a monk your story, your common problems, and ask him for book suggestions. Don’t be surprised when you then start reading a recommended book and it feels like it was written specifically for you at that moment and time. Many of the books I’ve reviewed here were recommended to me by monks.

7. Buried sins are revealed to you

Anger, pride, irritability, neuroticism, comfort-seeking… all these sins were painfully shown to me during my monastery visits. In the secular world, so many people proudly display their own sins that you begin to see them as normal and do not recognize them as sins when you perform them yourself. This false notion is dispelled when you’re surrounded by real virtue. You may realize that you are a prideful, angry person, like I realized at St. Anthony’s Monastery in Arizona when I initiated an argument with a monk. Once you’re able to spend time with those who are struggling to achieve the Christian ideal, you plainly see where you are lacking.

8. It’s easier to shed tears of repentance

It’s no guarantee that you’ll shed tears at a monastery, but if you shed tears in a parish, you will probably shed more in a monastery, and with those tears come the presence and love of God. What a joy it is for God to give you tears that wash away the impurities of your soul.

9. Your ears behold the workings of God

When you’re at a monastery, you will meet serious Christians and hear their testimonies. You may hear of miracles that happened within monastery grounds. You may hear of visions and prophecies from the saints. You may hear the workings of the Holy Spirit. The longer you stay in a monastery, the more you will hear.

10. You learn about obedience

If you are lucky enough to stay many days in a monastery, you will learn why obedience is considered a higher virtue than prayer. You will witness monks who follow their spiritual father as if he were Christ himself, and how this obedience bestows bountiful salvific grace upon them. Once you notice this grace, perhaps you will want to fall in obedience too, to receive guidance from a spiritual elder who will aid you in your salvation.

Conclusion

All the reasons above ultimately boil down to one: you draw closer to God. Your spiritual life grows and your faith grows, and you become more motivated to labor with God to transform your fallen, broken soul into one that is worthy of serving God in the Kingdom of Heaven. If you have enjoyed reading my articles concerning the faith, understand that the root of my observations and knowledge have come from what I learned in the monastery. I glance at the calendar and count down the days until it’s time for my next visit.

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My master plan was to live in Colombia, Brazil, and Argentina for six months each, and then evaluate which was best to live in for extended periods of time. Here are the total lengths of time I stayed in each country during my last trip:

Colombia: Six months
Brazil: Five and a half months
Argentina: One and a half months

I left Brazil a little early because of when my monthly lease in Rio ended (I didn’t have the will to mill around in hostels for two weeks).

Argentina was a different story. You know those medical experiments that end early because one condition far outperformed another? If I remember correctly they did this with an HIV study in Africa where they tested if circumcision led to lower infection rates. It proved to be such a strong benefit that they ended the experiment early to tell the uncut guys to immediately get cut. Well that’s why I left Argentina so soon—the little data I had in my hands told me that it wasn’t a place that would have brought me more happiness than Colombia or Brazil.

That said, here is my evaluation of what it’s like to live in all three countries, along with my declaration of the best.

LAW ENFORCEMENT

Colombia: While there is a police presence, you can go all day without seeing a single squad car. Sometimes you only see cops on dinky motorcycles that look like dirt bikes. There is no heavy hand of the law here.

Brazil: Maybe only a decade behind the U.S. in terms of the Big Brother factor. The police are heavily armed, well financed (from an equipment standpoint), and make frequent stops. There are speed cameras and sobriety checkpoints. You don’t go long without seeing a cop car on the street. While the laws are more lax than in the U.S., Brazil is not a good place to openly fuck around. Even though Western media loves to portray favelas as lawless, police are generally on top of their shit outside of them.

Argentina: Police are positioned in street corners within rich areas of big cities. They don’t seem particularly well-trained or competent, probably because the country has been spared from narco-wars. It’s unlikely you’ll be bothered here.

Advantage: Argentina

PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION

Colombia: Local buses are run by private companies. While cheap, the lines are confusing and the buses old and very uncomfortable. The routes are not always logical and transfers are commonly needed. Medellin’s metro line though is clean, safe, and very reliable, but often crowded. The one good thing about the buses is that they come very frequently and you can flag them down anywhere along the route.

Brazil: Buses here are slow, lumbering beasts, the big versions you see in American cities. They come often and are reliable but you generally have to walk to a designated stop instead of being able to stick your hand out wherever you please. They aren’t that cheap, starting at about 2.20 R$ for a single trip.

Argentina: They have big buses like in Brazil but are almost impossible to use without insider knowledge because of nondescript signage. In Argentina you’ll only see something like “H7,” while in the other countries they’ll be a placard detailing a dozen or so stops.

Advantage: Colombia

SUPERMARKET FOOD

Colombia: It’s hard to find lemons or lunch meats in the bird family. Most sell peanut butter at inflated rates. Boneless chicken breast is usually frozen.

Brazil: Doubly hard to find lemons, and even common vegetables like broccoli and zucchini can be MIA. Peanut butter is astronomically priced. Great selection of fruits, cheeses, and lunch meats. Boneless chicken breast is usually frozen.

Argentina: Lemons are everywhere! But limes are incredibly hard to find, as is peanut butter. Poor selection of cheese, lunch meat, and fruits, but excellent choice of wines. Boneless chicken breast is refrigerated and of good quality, though much more expensive than their famed red meat.

Advantage: Brazil

RESTAURANT FOOD

Colombia: Not much selection in local fare except for dirty diners, but you’ll find many decent fusion restaurants in tourist centers, usually run by expats. I still don’t know what typifies Colombian cuisine besides stews, arepas, and fried snacks.

Brazil: Beans, rice, and meat seem to be the Brazilian staple. Local restaurants have fixed plates that will serve bland but filling meals of rice, beans, potatoes, and meat. There is more of a food tradition with dishes like feijoada and moqueca, but convenience foods like pizza and fried bread snacks are beginning to fatten the population. Upmarket restaurants put interesting spins on typical foods.

Argentina: Great value for breakfast and lunch, especially the latter where for $5 or $6 you get a tasty three-course meal with beverage. While restaurant service here is the worst, you’ll find far more creative fare with more European influence than in Brazil and Colombia. Argentina is also a better pick for the foodie who is impressed by plate presentation.

Advantage: Argentina

WOMEN

Colombia: The hardest part of getting laid in Colombia is dealing with the language barrier (you won’t meet too many girls who speak English), but if you’re conversational in Spanish and approach during the day you shouldn’t have too many issues banging cute girls. Flakiness will be your main problem.

Brazil: Brazil has proven to be a country of streaks for me and my gringo friends. You’ll bang three girls in a couple weeks then get nothing for a while. Otherwise the country is very gringo friendly and you’ll find tons of girls who speak English. The okay girls are quite easy to get in bed, but the cuter ones take more work. Towards the end of my time in Brazil I was getting sick of all the mediocre girls throwing themselves on me and having to seemingly rely on luck and the numbers game to get anywhere with the quality ones.

Argentina: These girls have a reputation for being difficult and I find that to be the case. Not only will you work your ass off to get laid, it won’t be with one of the hotties that you went there for in the first place. My second trip to Argentina I gave up on the women and found myself a Brazilian girl.

Advantage: Brazil

NIGHTLIFE

Colombia: Tables and chairs. People prefer to sit down everywhere, even in clubs, but on the plus side nightlife is concentrated in the cities so it’s easy to stumble on a variety of places that have electronic, rock, pop, or local music. Bars are a total bust in meeting people. Clubs have decent value in terms of cover charges and drinks.

Brazil: Much more Western in that people mingle. While typical bars offer tables for socializing among friends, you can find bars where there is standing and movement. Some cities have nightlife centered in specific areas, but others like Rio can be quite spread out and hard to get around. Cover charges for the high-end clubs can be astronomical.

Argentina: It has the typical bars with tables, which people start going to around midnight, and then a progressive club scene with rotating DJs develops after 2am. The nightlife is agreeable for younger kids with energy to stay up all night and dance, but for older guys over 30 it can be quite annoying to go out so late to deal with girls who aren’t even drinking anyway. A positive is that the value is very good, and you won’t pay much for cover charges and drinks.

Advantage: Brazil

COFFEE SHOPS

Colombia: There is a cafe culture with the Juan Valdez shops where you can sit with your latte and laptop for an hour or two. Ironically one of the best cafes I’ve been to in Medellin was the McCafe.

Brazil: Brazilians love their cafezinho (espresso shot), but they don’t linger. Since all coffee shops have waiters, they don’t expect you to sit down and write the next greatest American novel. For that you need to go to the mall and find a Starbucks, which is prohibitively expensive (10 R$ for a caramel frapp).

Argentina: Hands down the best coffee shop scene. Big cities have tons of pleasant cafes with wireless internet and delicious sweets. There is a lingering culture here so feel free to camp out for a couple hours.

Advantage: Argentina

SAFETY

Colombia: Safer than I was led to believe. I never had issues walking around at night even in shady areas. It’s a shame that the stereotype of the country being a warzone persists, but in a way this is good because it keeps out a lot of gringos who visit Costa Rica or Panama instead.

Brazil: Most dangerous of the three. While I’ve never been robbed in Brazil, I keep hearing stories that tell me my Brazilian-like appearance probably helped keep me safe (though don’t think Brazilians don’t get robbed). Brazil is very unforgiving for gringos who don’t have a lot of travel experience, though the most common “robbery” is getting severely overcharged by a taxi driver. I have to dedicate more energy here to staying safe than I would like.

Argentina: I’ve never heard a gringo getting mugged here—only petty theft in bus stations. Many times in Cordoba it didn’t feel like I was in South America at all.

Advantage: Argentina

FRIENDLINESS OF THE LOCALS

Colombia: Very friendly. They are much more intrigued that you’re a gringo and will always ask about where you’re from and why you’re in their country. They’re almost thankful that you’re visiting Colombia.

Brazil: It depends. I’ve met some incredibly rude and cold Brazilians, and I’ve met some who welcomed me into their home without even wondering if I could be a ax murderer or not. I would say Brazilian people are friendlier than Americans, but their friendliness is overhyped by quite a bit. A better term to describe them is warm—within a short time you’ll feel quite at ease, like you’ve known them forever.

Argentina: Outside of clubs Argentines are friendlier than Brazil, believe it or not. Even though Brazil has a more open culture to gringos, it seemed easier to make superficial friendships in Argentina with random people. I accumulated more phone numbers of both guys and girls one month in Argentina than six months in Brazil. A lot of guys though initially mistake the friendliness of Argentine women to be that they’re easy. They learn eventually.

Advantage: Undecided

TAXIS

Colombia: Taxi drivers are usually honest, and are great to practice Spanish with. All I had to do is ask “How are you today/tonight?” and we’d get into a long conversation. Towards the end of my time here I had pretty tight taxicab game, rarely getting ripped off.

Brazil: Taxis here are the worst. It’s very rare that a taxi driver, no matter how nice to me on the surface, will not try to scam me. I’ve had to argue with so many that I dreaded taking a Brazilian cab—I began taking buses everywhere instead, even late at night. While getting ripped off rarely means more than a $5 difference, it was the principality of it.

Argentina: Mostly honest, though less friendly than the Colombians.

Advantage: Colombia

MUSIC

Colombia: You got three main choices here: salsa, reggaeton, and vallenato, all of which are danceable, in addition to your normal house clubs. Plus you got Juanes, Colombia’s Michael Jackson, and Shakira, Colombia’s Shania Twain. Rock is also popular.

Brazil: Brazil has a very rich musical culture. Each state has their own flavor of music and you can live here for years until you know them all. From traditional samba to pagode and forro (I need more triangle!) to the newfangled tecno brega, music is an important part of how Brazilians connect with each other and pass the time, but most of the music is hard to dance to for the average gringo. Expensive clubs usually have Western music (fun fact: the song “Forever Young” is huge in Brazil).

Argentina: Reggaeton is slowly making its way here in addition to mainstays like cuarteto, cumbia, rock, and house. Argentines are pretty crazy about house music, but unfortunately they have very little idea how to dance to it.

Advantage: Colombia

CELL PHONE SERVICE

Colombia: Expensive and mostly reliable, though some text messages remain in the ether for hours until delivered. You have a lot of options on the street to make cheap calls from minuto celular vendors.

Brazil: Crazy expensive at more than 50 cents a minute if calling another cell phone from your own. Your only other option is Skype as they don’t have phone vendors on the street like in Colombia. Text messages sometimes get temporarily lost here too.

Argentina: About the same as Colombia, but no minuto celular vendors.

Advantage: Colombia

LANGUAGE CLASSES

Colombia: Group classes can be found at reasonable prices, from $5-10 an hour.

Brazil: Expensive as balls. Prices starts at $20 an hour for group classes if you include “enrollment” and “material” fees. I eventually found a private tutor for $35 an hour that I used for two hours a week, but I couldn’t help but feel raped. Everyone I met reminded me that I was indeed getting raped. Unfortunately Portuguese is harder to learn on your own because of a dearth of self-study materials.

Argentina: The cheapest, which is why so many gringos come here to study Spanish. You can find freelance private tutors starting at $6 an hour.

Advantage: Argentina

VALUE

Colombia: Great value that is slowly diminishing as both the economy (and peso) get stronger.

Brazil: While I was in Brazil I felt like I was paying American prices. Besides grocery store food there is very little value to be found. It was rare that I felt like I was getting a good deal on something.

Argentina: Super great value that will only get better as the peso crashes and burns due to continued government incompetence. They say the Argentine government is so corrupt because their ancestors are Italian.

Advantage: Argentina

VIBE

Colombia: Colombia is full of good-natured, curious people who want to learn about foreigners while showing the best of what their culture has to offer. While Colombians don’t go nuts like Brazilians, they’re a sensual people who are fun to pass the time with. Edgy city life keeps you engaged and interested.

Brazil: Brazilians are constantly in celebratory moods, and it seems like there is always some type of street party or event that makes for a good excuse to start drinking early in the day. There are lots of nightlife choices and daytime activities, and the locals are always ready to party and meet others. The sexual atmosphere is very favorable to visitors of both sexes.

Argentina: You’re not going to have much fun here unless you get into a social circle or have some sort of university class or job where you can make easy friends. Argentines are diehard conformists and always worried about what other people think of them, so there is not much in way of personal flair or spontaneous excitement. But once you get to know some cool people, you’ll have a good time and maybe bang a cutie or two.

Advantage: Brazil

There is no debate in my mind that the overall winner is Brazil. While it doesn’t outperform Colombia and Argentina in all categories, and is also frighteningly expensive, it’s the one place in South America that I must return to. It’s also the best option for the single man. While Colombia is a fine choice as well, I think it’s worth saving up your money for a Brazilian adventure that I guarantee will be the first of many.

While I’ve tried my best to explain Brazil’s charm in previous writings, it’s something you have to experience yourself to understand why fans like me love it so much. I remember something a man told me many years ago: “There are two types of men—those who haven’t been to Brazil, and those who are trying to go back.” Not a week goes by that I don’t fantasize about what my third visit to the country will be like.

Remember when I posted a video clip thinking that my Rio favela was under attack? Like I mentioned, they were actually filming the movie Tropa de Elite 2 (from my shack’s window I couldn’t see the cameras or support staff). I recently stumbled on a behind-the-scenes clip of that day’s filming:

My front gate shows up at 0:40. The green-tarped kiosk at 0:56 is like a mini 7-11, where I bought staples such as milk, Guarana soda, and snappers. Only once did I go around the corner deeper into the favela (I was curious), and while it wasn’t dangerous, I didn’t exactly blend in. I knew a gay Algerian guy who lived in the deepness and he didn’t have any issues taking back his “crazy” B boys for nights of fun.

Here’s a video of a couple gringos riding their mountain bikes down the same favela. They end in the place where the BOPE troops from the previous clip walk up to.

You can hear the encouraging crowd in the background. I find that even the thuggish favela dwellers are rather friendly and deferent, while in America a group of approaching urban youth can be intimidating, not yielding the path and maybe even making derogatory comments (especially towards women). In Brazil this never happened to me—they’d get out of the way before I even thought about it.

Here’s a news clip talking about how the favela is the first to be hooked up with free internetche. It has some nice panoramic views of poverty:

While I don’t miss living in a favela, I do miss bragging about it, and most of all I miss the location. Right in the middle of Botafogo, it was close to everything and within 10 minutes walking distance to my favorite club to pull one-night stands (Casa do Matriz). I hated the actual apartment (it was old, there were five other roommates sharing 1.5 baths, and the kitchen had thousands of cockroaches of at least three different breeds I’d never encountered before), but it suited my leisure needs more than any Washington D.C. suburb I’ve lived in. Toss in the danger factor that got many a panties wet, and I’d definitely live in a favela again.*

*As long as it had a 24-hour police protection and I was living on the edge of the favela, not inside it. It also must have high-speed internet, hot water, and reliable electricity, with nary a hint of raw sewage odor.

Let the new adventure begin!

:banana:

If you follow my Twitter feed or have read this post on the forum, you’ll see that I’m not too happy in Denmark. Stupidly, I locked myself into a two-month lease when I arrived because I assumed it would be at least as good as Iceland, but it’s not even close. Just last week I thought, “This blows. It’s time to tighten things up. You need to make a list of all the countries you want to go to with reasons why…” and then I paused, because I know I did this before. From A Dead Bat In Paraguay:

That night I came up with a plan. With my guidebook next to me and reports of other travelers simmering in my head, I wrote a list on a napkin of the next ten cities I should visit. Next to each city I put how long I was allowed to stay in each, plus or minus a couple days. It was time to introduce a little structure and discipline or I’d never finish the trip. Instead I’d just keep getting sick in cities I didn’t care for and miss out on the ones I wanted to visit most (Rio, Buenos Aires). At the bottom of the napkin I wrote down two rules that became my new travel strategy: “Only go to a city if it has something you want to see and experience,” and, “Only stay longer than planned if you are having the time of your life. No exceptions.” I wanted these rules to last beyond the ten cities I listed, until the end of the trip.

The biggest mistake I keep making is investing too much time in crappy countries, but is that a mistake or just a normal feature of travel? Is it possible to ever eliminate going to a “bad” country? While hindsight is 20/20, commiting two months to Denmark, a place that has gotten zero positive reports, seems inexcusable, even though just a few weeks ago I felt brave for doing it.

I have to come to terms that in the year 2011 I’m not going to discover a magnificient unconquered land. I’m not going to be the first horny gringo to tap a species of women that no one knows about. I will not find the diamond in the rough. There is a reason why men repeatedly go to the same countries in South America, Eastern Europe, and Southeast Asia, and why they don’t go to Denmark, Belgium, and Mongolia. As much as I like to think of myself as a mighty conquistador, I might as well stay in America than duplicate the experience I’m having right now in Copenhagen.

I’m curious about countries like Sweden and Germany, but Denmark has scared me straight. I’m heading east to Poland in a few weeks to begin following the path left by men before me.

I wanted to close out with a little update on some projects I’m working on:

• Argentina Compendium: This should be out in a few weeks.
• Day game book: Third draft is done. I’m still on track for a July or August release.
• Bang Iceland: I just finished the rough draft. Once it’s done, I will chop it up and release it for free on the blog. I’m hoping for a June release. Patience, please.
• Denmark guide: I don’t want to waste much time writing a guide for a country that I will advise you not to visit, but there will still be some posts about my experience that will help you in a place like Sweden or Norway.

I haven’t taken a break from the blog in over a year so I think now is a good time to do it. Check back in a week or two.

1. There aren’t many attractive women. Most are sloppy, ugly, fat, and don’t care about looking good for men.

“DC has a lot of over-educated white girls who could stand to lose 20 lbs. They have decidedly average faces. Said women believe that their education level and wack governmentalish type job makes them more of a catch than looking photogenic and being feminine… ” #

“I remember my first year here when it was not unusual to go to bars or clubs and see a good ratio of attractive women to men. Unfortunately things have changed drastically. Even the few girls that are out… a lot of them are unattractive. A few of the attractive girls I have smashed have also told me they thought the women here were mostly ugly. This creates a problem for single men. The pool of attractive women is a lot smaller here then it is in LA/NYC or Miami.” #

“There’s a map that claims that there is a higher proportion of single women to men in the DC area. But it doesn’t take into account that a lot of women don’t really take care of themselves like they do out west. Most of the girls that move out here don’t come to pursue modeling careers. It’s also cold half of the year. Not as much pressure to stay in shape.” #

“The only chicks who move to DC seem to be chubby, pasty white girls who have grad degrees in Poly Sci or Public Relations (or some other bullshit) and want to work in a gubbymint job or for a non-profit.” #

“Go out to a bar in DC this weekend. The few girls that you even see out will put very little effort into their dress. Is it so hard to put on makeup and high heels at least? I guess they can get away with it because there is very little competition here.” #

2. The city has boring, cookie-cutter people.

“The problem with DC is the majority of industries it caters to have boring, lackluster people (law and government). Government workers are the laziest, blandest, most depressing, least passionate people around and that becomes somewhat contagious. They go through the motions and count the days to retirement but they enjoy the security of a government job. The other problem is 3/4 of the city is off-limits if you aren’t looking to get shot and robbed.” #

“It’s pretty conformist, bourgeois and relatively upscale. If your goal is simply to have a stable, upper-middle class lifestyle and you are fairly conservative, it may be the city for you. It’s more for people who work, want to unwind on the weekends and mostly seem to have steady girlfriends or maybe date around somewhat. However, DC does seem to weed out the extremes of society including real creative energy and excitement.” #

“DC has always drawn lots of consultants who come here with job offers directly out of college with the Booz Allen, Accenture, and PWC’s of the world. Sure, some of them are hot, but it’s more the homely academic type. You also get a lot of the khaki-wearing men who put the girls on a pedestal, giving them an increasing sense of self-worth. It’s kind of funny… last time I was in LA at the beach area and saw several smokin hot chicks with guys who had the emo band look, tight jeans, crazy hair, etc. That’s something you rarely if ever see here.” #

3. Regardless of what surveys or Census figures say, Washington DC is the biggest sausagefest on the Eastern seaboard. This is obvious to anyone who has been out on a Saturday night.

“My sister just moved from NYC last year and really hated it, primarily because she felt like she was surrounded by government drones with no personality, but when she found out she could go out to a bar with 5 dollars in her pocket and have guys buy her drinks all night, she quickly changed her mind.” #

4. It forces you to lower your standards and date low-quality girls you would’ve never previously considered.

“The amount of guys i know that married a DC girl is minimal, and those guys married down. I don’t know one guy from DC who is married to a girl from this area where I thought to myself ‘Wow, good for him, that’s a nice pull.'” #

5. The few girls who are pretty have princess attitudes because of all the attention they get from the surplus of desperate, horny men.

“You get a few hotties at some of the consulting companies (Accenture is pretty good about hiring hot chicks), but they’re in the overwhelming minority and benefit from a supply/demand issue. Also, the ones who are attractive and have grown up in the area are basically spoiled princesses who have been having their asses kissed their whole lives and have no concept of reality.” #

6. The city is rapidly exporting cool, attractive people while importing ugly political nerds from the Midwest or upstate New York who insist on wearing flip-flops all the time.

“I went down there with a buddy this past summer for 3-4 days and hopped from Dupont, Adams Morgan, and U Street. We hit the happy hour spots on a Thurs/Friday. Nothing. Whatever talent I remember DC having has left.” #

“Does anybody remember south of dupont back in 07/08? Sooo many chicks just walking around. I remember the first time I went to Play lounge (midtown) back then. The place was packed with women. Then you’d step outside and the sidewalks had girls coming out of 1223. 1223 is gone and now it’s called Dirty Martini and it’s not even a club anymore. Heck even Lucky Bar used to be great. That place was like shooting fish in barrel.

“Now it’s terrible (low quality and a sausagefest)… I was at Public and Rumors last weekend and it was such a sausage party. Do you remember the Park at 14th back in 08/09? Two years ago I went to their international night and it was four floors of model-looking chicks of every race. It used to be diverse and high quality. Now it’s ghetto as hell. Recently an NFL player got stabbed outside of there. Even during the day and after work Dupont used to have a lot of hot girls walking around. Now it’s a lot less. Not sure what happened. I’m glad I’m not the only one who has noticed.” #

7. There aren’t enough cute white girls for white men who don’t want to date minorities.

“Without sounding like a racist, this is what is killing DC nightlife for me. I’m a white dude and I like white girls with a few exceptions here and there. The demographics of this area have shifted dramatically where there are so many Asians, Middle Easterns, blacks, and Hispanics that 1/5 of the girls out that night are actually white (and that doesn’t mean they are slim or attractive or single). Because so many people work for the government some way or another and make decent money, there is no income segregation and all the races party at the same places. There is a shortage of white girls and girls from Latin American countries like Brazil or Argentina.” #

“I think last time I was at Modern I felt like I was in Asia.” #

8. Women who live in DC gradually become status whores, obsessed with what you do and if you’re getting a table at the newest club on K Street.

“A ton of status whoring, fake people, degree chasers, one uppers, the ‘I care less than you do’ crowd.” #

“First conversation starter is always “What’s your job?” Lame just lame.” #

“DC women are very superficial… they are sizing you up to see how you can benefit them and their career. People live to work in this city… they all will have law degree’s, mba’s or some silly phd and they will make sure that’s the first thing you know about them. They’re gonna be looking at your clothes, car, and all the other dumb shit they use to measure you.” #

“Just about every 6+ chick found in a DC bar/club thinks she’s a 10 and has her 24-7 bitch shield up. Shoot, I am a white dude who works out constantly (9% body fat only), dresses sharp and makes it a point to always smile (I have nice teeth), yet the number of times girls give me the eye roll here is unreal! Sometimes, I dream of being a tall celebrity cat as that seems to be about the only foolproof method of getting GOOD-LOOKING women in DC.” #

9. Recent implants have sucked all the character out of neighborhoods by supporting soulless corporate chains. Soon the only stores in the city will be Starbucks, Potbelly, Chipotle, or cupcake shops.

“Neighborhoods filled with culture and diversity are being dissolved and turned into breeding grounds for kids trying to slum it with the safety of a Whole Foods in the vicinity.” #

10. Adams Morgan turns into an open-air ghetto on weekend nights during the summer. You can’t walk around after last call without wannabe thugs making derogatory comments at your girl.

11. There are not as many young and nubile au-pairs coming into the city as before.

“I’ve also noticed that the au-pair market has shrunk. I dated some au-pairs back in ’05-06 and although it was transient, at least I wasn’t lonely. But that avenue seems very diminished now.” #

“Cosign on the decreased au pair sightings. They used to be dime a dozen five years ago. There are so few that the fat Polish girl who would get no love back in her hometown is getting approached 20 times a night in DC. I knew a mediocre Brazilian girl (a 5) come to DC and tell me how amazing it is that guys offer to buy her drinks and take her for rides on boats (Georgetown). She loved the city of course. Back in Brazil she was a nobody.” #

12. It’s one of the most expensive cities to live in the United States , yet the girls are bottom of the barrel and still expect to be treated like NYC models.

13. The subway system is managed by retards, resulting in a high loss of life for a public transportation system in a first world city.

14. The weather sucks. It’s an intolerable swamp in the summer and cold enough in the winter that most women hibernate with their vibrators.

15. The HIV rate is the highest in America, exceeding that of many African nations.

In conclusion, Washington DC fucking sucks. I feel sorry for your dick if you live there.[culturewar]

Here’s a comment from the forum:

I love Poland. A true globetrotting playboy knows when it’s time to kick back and enjoy low-hanging fruit, and when it’s time to get down and bleed. Poland for the former, while places like Argentina and Spain for the latter.

After a few months of bliss, boredom and complacency sets in, and you’re longing for girls to feign indifference and play a mind game or two rather than show their cards right away. As a man, I just love the novelty and struggle of the chase too much, otherwise I’d live there forever. Great in the short-term though.

Not all guys have great success in Poland, but if you have the right key then the girls put out surprisingly fast.

I have the right key.

My game is not going up in Poland because what I had before arriving was insanely overkill. I came packing nuclear bombs when all I needed were slingshots. About two months in, I started to get “bored” of banging so much. I wanted to go somewhere else where I would struggle a bit and then have to come up with new methods or tactics. And then I slapped the fuck out of myself.

I bled for four years in high school, unable to talk to a pretty girl without urinating in my pants.

I bled for four years in college, constantly stuck in the friends zone with girls I hoped would give me pity sex.

I bled for nearly a decade in DC, improving my game on career-driven cunts who didn’t make me happy.

I bled for six months on my first South America trip, trying to figure out why my DC game wasn’t working on Latin girls, all while shitting my brains out due to various infections.

I bled for two months in Denmark on girls who were even worse than the DC girls I hated.

And then a short while into Poland I considered leaving because I believed that struggling was necessary to my growth as a man. Truth is I’m not sure how to live without bleeding.

I look at my reflection in the mirror a little longer these days, to make sure what I’m experiencing is real. I savor the moment because soon I will become numb to what is making me happy right now. I will stay in Poland until I no longer care about sex, until I need to give my dick a rest, until the thought of fucking another 110 pound Polish girl disgusts me. I will stay in Poland until I get deported. Maybe this will take another month, maybe another three months, maybe longer, but I would be a damn fool to leave when all my dreams are being met in a place that is as close to natural viagra as I’ve found.

I originally planned on some grand European voyage of visiting ten countries, but now that’s out the window. I will stay in Poland indefinitely, because I don’t want to bleed anymore.

In Brazil, grocery stores can be quite far from the favela. Because carrying plastic bags with your hands over long distances is painful, Brazilian people who don’t have cars have come up with two novel methods to carry groceries that transfer the load to their shoulders.

The Saddlebag Method

This is usually done with four bags. It leaves your hands mostly clear in case you need to carry additional items like toilet paper or a pack of Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers.

The T-Shirt Method

This method can only be done with two bags. You tie the ends of each bag together and put your head through the big hole as if you were putting on a t-shirt. I like this method when I want my hands to be completely free to text girls I met at the club.

I’ve never seen anyone carry grocery bags like this outside of Brazil, even in other South American countries like Argentina or Colombia. It’s a purely Brazilian innovation that I’ve been using for about two years. My hope with this post is to spread the idea throughout the world so I can see other people doing it while I’m doing it. I can only imagine the intense look that will be exchanged.