Roosh V A Dead Bat In Paraguay Bang

A player hater is one who despises or speaks ill of another player because he does not have any game of his own. – Rap Dictionary.

Don’t hate the player, haters. Hate the game.




We expect clubs to be boring so lately we’ve been bringing our own entertainment. Insmonia brought his latest issue of Redbook, which he is a loyal subscriber to.

After reading about ways to be seductive, he decided to try some moves on a real-life woman. It involved clothing removal and deep stares.

We hit up this new club called Club Utility in Adams Morgan. I like it because none of you yuppies have found it yet, but now since the name is out there I have to stop going. I like how they give extra large pieces of lime (noticeable in the picture below).

There is a big minimalist movement going on with some club owners. All that wallpaper and fancy Ikea furniture shit is on the way out in favor for a more real environment.



I present you with the absolute worst new DC blog: DC Divas.

On a side note, why is it that this year when I go tanning it’s like all these guys go tanning now? I know there is the whole idea of the metrosexual and guys primping and shit but COME ON! You look like total fagots coming out of a tanning bed and your more tan then any girl in the whole place!!!

From this amazingly witty observation we can conclude that the authors are still in college… community college. Note the exclamation point usage.

I give this guy a fake number, you know my real number with a few numbers changed inbetween, and he’s like ok I’m going to call you write now so you have mine. BUSTED! I was like what? He was like, get your phone out and I’m calling you. HOW EMBARRASSING! I could not believe I got caught in such a situation so he got pissed and said a few choice words and walked away.

:laugh: :laugh: :laugh:

The fake phone number guy made a serious mistake by going for the number of a girl who seems to regularly put out after thirty minutes of meeting a guy. If you can’t spot the obvious whore in the bar then you don’t deserve to get laid. Usually she’s the one who is grinding on half of the guys in the bar – when there isn’t even any hip hop music playing. The only thing that stops her from having sex right there on the dance floor is her friends who have to constantly pull her away from horny guys that are convinced they’re getting some.

So anyway we go back to their place and they weren’t lieing they did have a case of beer! The funny part was we probably had one beer before the hook up lines start coming out.. “You have a really nice figure, you must work out a lot?”, “You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen”, and then there was the line he thought would real me in… drum roll please! “Your eyes are beautiful, I could get lost staring into them” Little did he know (he must not read our blog!) he was already going to get some.

This validates my position that girls decide if they want to have sex with me or not way before I get her into my place. Back in the day I did some experimentation on how bad of an excuse I can use and still get a girl to come over. I will share the only excuse that didn’t work:

“Hey how about you come over and check out my new potted plant?”

She laughed and said, “Yeah right.” Then I just got her in my car and drove to my place. That was the birth of my no-excuse excuse, followed immediately by the toaster excuse.

We aren’t just dirty sluts that run around have sex with every guy we come across (we do have some standards)

The fact that they have to actually say this is a little disturbing. And notice how they said “some standards” instead of just standards. I have a feeling these girls are the ones who are having sex with guys who use really lame pick up lines. Why else would guys still be using them unless they are encouraged every now and then by easy girls who overuse the exclamation point? Female readers: when a guy uses a lame line on you, just remember that it worked on someone before… someone with standards lower than yours will ever get.

When I’m drunk, if there’s an elevated platform anywhere the chances are that i’m going to dance on it. And I love it when i know guys are staring up my skirt. It’s really hot.

I don’t care how old I get, but nothing beats the cheap thrill of “accidentally” catching a look up a skirt. I’m going to be that dirty old man who puts a mirror at the bottom of his cane.

OMG! so we are totally out and about and run into these guys that we met awhile back. I had “done a few things” with hot ass and C. was totally all ginding on sweet cock and she totally wanted to feel his manhood but didn’t get the chance cause he had a girlfriend at the time so they just made out a little.

I really hope this blog is fake.

– Credit: DC Blogs.


On Friday Insomnia and I went to the beach FOB style, bringing sandwiches, drinks, alcohol, and other snacks. We had the biggest cooler.

Two guys + lots of skin = homoerotic photography.

This flying disc has brought me more happiness than any woman I’ve been with. It’s always left in my car in case someone wants to play.

I found a couple creepy metal detector guys. This duo seemed to be a father and son effort.

On the boardwalk we played the Bull Game, where you squeeze two metal bull horns together to get a strength rating. I beat Insomnia the first time we played when I got a Macho over his Trucker. But like an idiot I challenged him again, and our ratings reversed. So overall we’re tied. I couldn’t leave my victory well enough alone.

Vodka Boy’s bar is looking pretty damn nice.

And finally, my new roommate has arrived.


I am never going to Club Five again.

Last week I got a flyer advertising their Monday night party: “$1 Corona, $1 Burgers, $1 Hot Dogs.” We’ve been looking for a Monday night hang-out spot so this was worth a try. On Monday night I go with Insomnia and his brother, and take the flyer with me just in case they try to renege on the $1 burgers that we so desperately craved.

We get there and are hit with a $10 cover, which of course was not mentioned on the flyer. Any possible savings from this happy hour evaporated quickly as I sucked it up and let Insomnia pay. We won’t be saving money on burgers, but we can still have a good time, I thought.

I go to the bar to get 4 corona’s and 5 burgers. Even those of you who didn’t quite make it up to calculus know that the total comes to $9. Bartender comes back… “fourteen dollars.”
“:huh:”
“The burgers are $2,” he says.

I knew they would try to pull this shit, so I grab for the flyer. As far as I’m concerned, this flyer is my contract for a one dollar burger. I show him the flyer, he looks at it, and then says, “They told me it’s $2,” and points to the general area behind him. I take a deep breath and give him my money.

Believe me when I say I tried to let it go. I really did. But I can’t stop staring at the stupid flyer. The printed “$1” prices are mocking me, saying “Haha we’re totally fucking you over and you can’t do anything about it.” I can’t let it go.

There is a guy fixing the speakers who doesn’t look like a total idiot, so I go to him and ask him about the burger price. Thirty minutes pass and I finally get my five additional burger coupons. We eat our topping-less burgers, make fun of the 80% male crowd, and proceed to the nearest white trash bar, Lucky Bar, to witness the glory that was their salsa night.

Don’t clubs want people to return? Is it really that hard to serve a product at an advertised price, and not give an attitude when you’re called out trying to rip off your customers? Oh yeah, after we finished our 10 burgers (2.5 pounds of cow), I overhear the barbecue guy say “We’re out of buns, sorry.” Assholes.


I’m getting a lot of compliments from girls about my longer hair. It’s here to stay:

Someone who is not here to stay… goodbye, probably forever:


:sad2:

Group picture. I wonder whose hand is on my crotch.

I was very much done by the time these homeless model pictures were taken. I later find out that Spaniard was paying them to pose with me.

Thanks guys! :banana: