Between the mensch and the stench and the trench, Roissy’s the middle-
-man. Ladies, watch out. You’re not so tough. We can figure you out. That’s the message of Roissy. Since the sexual revolution of the ’60s, masculine identity has veered all over the psychological map as we’ve been constantly flummoxed by the eternal question, “What do women want?” We’ve had the ’60s poet-prophet-rockstar, macho man, “sensitive man,” Jean-Claude van Damme, übergeek and übercapitalist stereotypes. All are outdated in the male quest for emotional, psychological and sexual satisfaction circa 2009. Roissy may just be the voice of Archetypal American Man for the present moment.
He’s not going to take any crap. He’s going to lay it on the line for you boys. He is the calculating male Id and Ego unsheathed from the Superego, and the women among his readers may take, shall we say, umbrage.
Gentlemen, from Roissy you can apparently learn:
• What a Girl’s Job Tells You (“Have you ever seen an unhappy man dating a stripper? The novelty, bragging rights, and earthshattering sex are worth the drama.” –You don’t even *want* to know what he says about lawyers.)
• How to Sell Yourself to Girls (“There are very few jobs or hobbies that, if described with 100% candor, would intrigue a girl to pussy exploding abandon. Espionage is one. President of the United States is another. You can’t go wrong with jewel thief either. But for most aspiring ladykillers, the word of the day is embellish.”)
• Online tests of your Game (“There’s good caveman game, and then there’s less good caveman game….”)
Roissy has a wide following of beta-males, who write in to him for advice, which he dispenses as the alpha-male version of Dan Savage. Straight up. With a chaser of tequila.
Roissy is a Class A-1 jerk, who’s been put on Earth to wise up B-class losers on how to nail a chick. There’s a British feminist blogger of my acquaintance who will eviscerate me for giving him this much airtime. He’s a cynical player who will totally disturb everybody
when
you
realize
he’s
engaged.
He’s entertaining and a damned good writer. How many alpha-bastards can you say that about? Heck, they’re almost all illiterate. At least here’s a dude who communicates.
Ladies, you might find him illuminating until the first foul sobriquet for “vagina,” and thereupon hurl used tampons at him. But I suspect some of you will throw panties. Guys, this might look like “The Rules” for men, but I guarantee that his advice will provide a general, though not a specific, advantage. Because women will read him too.
Chicks are smart. In the ongoing Battle of the Sexes, Roissy represents an advanced prototype weapon in the sexual arms race. He has, however, laid out all the technical specs, fully open to review by the Enemy. I tremble to think what weapon of destruction they’ll advance next.
Roissy says I should have no fear.
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This is such a great review David, I’m sorry that we had some technical difficulties but they should be sorted out now. Consider adding it again. I laughed out loud reading it