Category Archives: Happier Abroad

I Still Cringe When I Hear an Anglobitch Near

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Someday soon, true cultural diversity will be destroyed by Anglo-American, feminist cultural imperialism

There’s nothing more rattling to expat nerves than hearing a loud, entitled Anglobitch nearby. For an instant, it’s as if everything I ran away from has somehow followed me, and found me on my island paradise. A flood of memories of half a lifetime of putting up with this abomination of humanity briefly surges through my memory before she is whisked off in whatever land barge she happens to be riding in.

In that voice I hear entitlement, vacuousness, and arrogance all in one. There’s also the faint echo of sexual imperialism in that voice, for she is the self-anointed queen and Anglo men just exist to power her lifestyle of exorbitance. We aren’t to be given any of the pussy pie except when we are useful to help her achieve some end, and then only do the legs briefly spread.

Thank God she’s gone.

Thankfully, visits from Anglobitches are rare on this part of the island, but there are times of the year in which there are a worrisome number of them that appear. The Anglobitch, a product of a female worshiping culture stands in stark contrast to the ladies of the Latin culture I’ve adopted as my new home.

They still have a modicum of humanity left in them. And sex flows like water around here, it hasn’t been commidified into an interaction men must sacrifice their lives and fortunes for. The liberation I’ve experienced, as wonderful as it has been, is but an echo of the wonder days when men didn’t put up with shit from entitled bitches.

One can only imagine what things were like in the heyday of traditional Amerindian cultures, such as the Tainos who inhabited this part of the Caribbean and the Aztecs who inhabited nearby Mexico. If anything, English scholar Rookh Kshatriya in his recent article Repression, Freedom and the Mexicatl One World: Aztec Thoughts on the Anglobitch Thesis shows how far the Western man has fallen when one compares and contrasts today’s America with the past glory of masculine cultures.

Aztec culture is gallant, manly and virile, without a trace of feminist misandry or female ‘appeasement’. This ‘masculine’ civilization flourishes because Aztec culture is entirely free of sexual repression. Consequently, women have no intrinsic status in ancient Mexico, beyond their social birth-class. This shows us that feminism does not – indeed, can not – exist in a truly liberated culture. When sex has scarcity value it becomes a sacrament bestowed by women on males, thereby creating a misandrist climate that permits both the rise of feminism and the marginalization of men.

Interestingly, echoes of this sexual paradise for men exist to this day in the Caribbean, but local women are adopting the Western Sickness more and more as tourism increases on the island.

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Sex isn’t a “sacrament” bestowed on lucky men by holier than thou women in many world cultures

A Life of Sexual Liberation – For Men This Time

A man can still live a life of sexual satisfaction – legally – in many parts of the world. Once a man has experienced this type of sexual liberation, a figurative butterfly’s wings have been touched and he will never be able to see a sexually repressed homeland the same way again. Oliver Wendell Holmes put it best:

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.

In any case, Gary Jennings’ Aztec, which Kshatriya wrote the linked article about touches on what my life has been like since leaving the dry, dusty snatch of America behind.

Wherever Mixtli travels, fresh young women are available for his sexual entertainment. Every inn on the road has an adjoining whore-house, just as it has beds, drinks and breakfast. A lissom whore is always available, served up like a glass of wine or a hearty meal, an uncomplaining body for men to enjoy. Sickly Anglo repression is utterly absent from the Aztec world – and with it, misandrist feminism of the odious Anglo variety.

Indeed, the sexual bounty I’ve enjoyed since beginning my travels into Latin America – sexual conquests I get for free by the way – makes dealing with or even hearing a cackling Anglobitch an experience that makes me shudder. As an attractive man who is fluent in Spanish, with light hair and blue eyes, I can’t walk outside without being approached by quality women. This is an experience I never had in Anglo America, where I was totally ignored by women and had to compete viciously with other men for attention.

I had some measure of success living this way, if you can call that living, before deciding life was too short to be treated like that by Anglobitches.

On a recent flight over the Christmas holiday, I met a Mexican girl who was 7 months away from becoming a doctor. She was VERY into me, and even slept in my arms on our flight. I got her number but I already have such a thick black book I may never get around to meeting up with her. That simple human interchange is something I thirsted for, for decades back home.

I know the Anglobitch doesn’t like runaway slaves from the plantation. And sooner or later, she’ll have her way and infect this culture I love with her insanity and imperialism. I may not be able to change the future, but I can enjoy what’s available in a culturally diverse world before the coming New World Order monoculture destroys the islands of humanity that are left and turns everyone into consummate consumers.

There’s a troubling question that results from this experience and a glance at history. How in the hell did such a normal, natural part of life like sex become such a sacrament – a “blessing” bestowed on men by women in the minds of millions?

It’s a bizarre situation, really. Sex is everywhere in Anglo culture – on TV, in magazines, online, in the news, on the magazine stand, the topic of discussion and gossip – but Beta males can’t have any of it. Fuck that shit. I’m getting my share while the getting is good.

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Nearly 20 Times More Citizens Renouncing Citizenship Under Obama – But You Can Never Truly Leave

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You can find girls like this in Eastern Europe instead of the bloated, entitled land whales that pass for women in the USA

As the gynocentric USA continues shitting all over its men and the producers of its wealth with a giant, Ponzi scheme welfare system more people than ever are saying “Fuck this shit, I’m leaving.” We are witnessing men Going Galt on a scale never seen before.

There are as many as 8-10 million Americans living abroad now, a number that is growing by the year and some are going the extra mile and renouncing citizenship altogether. A proto-Communist regime under Obama has not been helping the matter. Forbes lays out the numbers:

Yet to put this into historical perspective, there are now 18 times as many renouncers as in 2008, with Americans renouncing citizenship up 560% from their Bush administration high.

The advent of the Internet and subsequent disintegration of the corporate-government narrative spewed by the Alphabet networks for half a century, in addition to Obamacare soaking the tax farm cattle (i.e. us) has helped accelerate the process of evacuating the Titanic by those with the prescience to realize what’s coming.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times in conversations with close friends and family: Everything the founders of this country ran away from in Europe – oppressive government, excessive taxation, rulers using citizens for their own purposes rather than the citizens living their own lives – has grown back, and grown back even worse than anyone could have ever imagined.

While the number of expatriates is in the millions, those who officially break off their relationship with The Matrix (the USA) is only a few thousand people each year. The only reason I haven’t broken off my relationship with the country is the fact it’s my bank. I use it only for economic reasons even though the parts of my life that are worth living are now offshore.

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Thought criminals that rebuke Freedom™ are tracked by the FBI and IRS even after they leave

You Can Never Leave

While fleeing is a ticket to a happier life for many, just know the USA has become the Eagles’ Hotel California as you can check out but you can never leave. Big Brother still follows those who don’t kiss the king’s ring and leave The Matrix. Here’s a creepy fucking fact:

Surprisingly, no one seems to know exactly how big the real number is, even though both the IRS and FBI track Americans who renounce.

Nothing says freedom like the fulfillment of Orwell’s worst nightmares.

It’s really no surprise to The New Modern Man why people are leaving, as we document the cesspool current Anglo society has become on a regular basis. But here’s Forbes’ reasoning:

Expatriations have historically been much lower than these figures. There is no single explanation for the increase, although some renouncers write why they gave up their U.S. citizenship. The reasons for renouncing can be family, tax and legal complications.

There is no family since Cultural Marxism and feminism, the serfs are buried with forced tax tributes, and the nation has morphed into Police State USA.

For those who officially renounce, there are of course fees and fines to escape the Land of the Free.

America charges $2,350 to hand in your passport, a fee that is more than twenty times the average of other high-income countries. The U.S. government has collected over $12.6 million in fees since the fall of 2014, after hiking its fee to renounce citizenship by 422%.

The bastion of freedom wants its cut of your money a second time even after you’ve already paid taxes on it, and is only one of two nations in the world – along with Eritrea – that charge its citizens income taxes on money earned while living abroad. It tracks every financial move its tax farm cattle make once they’ve fled the plantation and even after they’ve officially severed relations.

FATCA has been painstakingly implemented worldwide by President Obama’s Treasury Department. It now spans the globe with an unparalleled network of reporting. America requires foreign banks and governments to hand over secret bank data about depositors. Non-U.S. banks and financial institutions around the world must reveal American account details or risk big penalties.

On a personal note, I haven’t officially renounced but my heart is no longer of the USA. Perhaps that’s what really matters. Everything else is just formalities, bureaucracy and paperwork.

I feel betrayed in many ways by my nation. It took our families away and called it progress. It is working to criminalize heterosexuality and regularly jails and villainizes “Johns” for trying to get laid. It takes half of our money and gives it to people who contribute nothing to society except consumption. The litany goes on and on.

Creedence Clearwater put it this way in the 1970s.

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes
Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask them, “How much should we give?”
Ooh, they only answer More! More! More! yoh

More! More! More! is the battle cry as the producers of society are hung out to try to support a bloated, corrupt, and male-hating empire. It’s comforting to know I’m in good company when it comes to pulling the plug on this house of cards and doing what’s best for me. The numbers don’t lie, men are checking out of the insane asylum in droves.

The choice for the awakened man amounts to Enjoying the Decline a la Aaron Clarey, or leaving altogether for a better life somewhere the human spirit hasn’t been sold out for quarterly profits and the next fix of female-driven materialism and consumption.

Can Trump stem the tide when it comes to the nation bleeding off its best and brightest in exchange for state-dependent serfs? I doubt it. The pile of shit is just too high. But it will be interesting to watch the next four years.

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5 Things I’ve Learned From My First Year Abroad

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Some of the most beautiful beaches in the world are right here on Hispaniola

It seems like it was just yesterday I was running off the plantation in search of a life in a beautiful, sunny, libertine paradise.

Already, I’m just about to cap off my first full year of living abroad. I selected the Caribbean for my first experiment in living abroad for several reasons. First, it’s close to home, being only a two hour flight away from the U.S. Second, it’s Latin America so it’s still wild and free and I speaky the Spanish. Third, the women here are hot as hell and insatiable. Fourth, it’s warm and sunny with an average high of 85 degrees year round. And fifth, the island of Hispaniola has some of the most beautiful beaches in the world.

What are my conclusions after living here for a year? Am I homesick? Hell no. Am I happy? Absolutely. This without a doubt has been the best experience of my life so far. I’ve done more living and living on the edge in the past year than the previous thirty some odd years of my life before.

I have also been living on a fraction of the cost of my former corporate drone lifestyle. In all honesty, $500 covers housing, food, electric, and Internet, the basics. I will have to admit my partying budget for booze and other recreational consumables has soared. Here are five conclusions I came up with on the motorcycle ride back to my house from a hot girl’s apartment this morning.

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Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes. -Ghandi

1. I don’t want to come back to America.

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Morenas (dark skin Latinas) abound on Hispaniola

I look at Anglo America as a figurative prison of sorts. The entire society is geared towards nothing but consumption for consumption’s sake, and creating problems with people’s lives to create profit. When I think of my future I always see myself either being here on an island or in any number of exotic locations. (Some more adventures in Southeast Asia are definitely on the agenda). The worst nightmare I have is going back to the lifestyle of working 50-60 hours a week to keep up a bunch of deadbeat bums and illegal aliens with my tax dollars and the sweat off my brow.

2. I have gotten used to true freedom.

I can do just about anything here. Literally, I have never felt this kind of freedom before. There are no checkpoints busting people for DUIs on Saturday night. The police by and large leave people alone. Many small infractions can be taken care of with a $20 bill. Quite simply, this island is a Libertarian’s paradise as almost nothing is illegal and those things that are illegal are loosely enforced. You have to be quite an asshole to win up in trouble with the law here.

I imagine the intent of the Founding Fathers was something like I enjoy here: freedom to do just about anything you want within reason. Where did this ideal get lost and a micromanaging nanny state become the norm? It’s totally insane and upside down.

3. I feel more masculine than ever.

Almost nothing scares me anymore. I don’t go around watching what I say or how I say it like I did when I worked in the news industry. I drive a motorcycle as transportation daily, as does most of the rest of the population. A man either sinks or swims here pretty quickly.

In contrast to rabid feminism, women expect me to tell them what to do. I was having a conversation with a neighbor just yesterday and she commented that she expects her husband to be “the man of the house.” Why the West felt the need to reinvent the wheel, changing a cultural and familial practice that has worked for thousands of generations is a mystery. Under men leading the family the human species has prospered. It was the blunder of all time to abandon this model, and women as well as men are happier when feminist boilerplate is not adhered to.

By the same token, I realize that I must be able to stand up for myself and carry myself like a man. A weakling will get taken advantage of in this environment. You can’t be a bitch here. If you are strong inside and outside you will get respect. If you aren’t, you will get fucked.

4. I have more women than I can handle.

I go through several women a week. It’s amazing to compare and contrast this experience with the experience of putting in so much effort for so little return back in Anglo America. A libertine culture is a wonderful thing in my opinion. Threesomes, all but unattainable back home are easy to come by here if you have the right connections and the reputation of being a bad boy.

I realize a lot of my success is due to not only game but hypergamous female instinct. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it is my motto.

I have had so much success with women I can’t drive through town on my bike without some girl I’ve banged shouting at me or waving at me. It’s really incredible having this much access to twenty-something flesh, and a reminder that contrary to what we are told sex will often cure what ails ya. A man can even have so much sex he occasionally gets burned out on it. But too much is better than ain’t enough. Maybe Americans are angry and hateful online because they aren’t getting laid on the regular in a sexually repressed culture? The thought has crossed my mind.

5. I realize what it means to feel alive.

I have never felt more alive in my life. Whether it be playing pool and dancing with one hot girl while another hottie you’ve been banging walks in and both of you have to hide your feelings for each other, or learning how to have a backbone when conducting negotiations for housing or buying things (everything is negotiable here), this corner of the world has a way of bringing out the best in a man.

That’s what makes Latin America great to me. A man is still expected to be a man and can be a man. The rewards for a strong-willed man can be almost limitless. This can be summed up in two general themes: Possibilities and experiences. A man is not alive if he only exists to create profit for other people and has no life outside his job and career.  One of my idols, Charles Bukowski, said it best:

How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 8:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?

A man is alive if he wakes up everyday wondering which avenue of possibility he will pursue that day and what exciting experiences (and stories a man will carry to the grave) those possibilities will bring. The great Burgess Meredith flawlessly explains this concept in Grumpier Old Men:

Well, let me tell you something, Johnny. The first 90 years, or so go by pretty fast. Then one day you wake up and you realize that you’re not 81 anymore. You begin to count the minutes rather than the days and you realize that pretty soon you’ll be gone. And that all you have, see, is the experiences. That’s all there is. Everything! The experiences! You mount the woman, son. Or else…send her out to me.

Indeed, experiences, not things. That’s where it’s at.

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…all you have, see, is the experiences. That’s all there is. Everything! The experiences!

Is Living Abroad is Right for You?

What do men do when their government turns into a tyranny and their women become repellent? They either look for greener pastures or overthrow such a system, or both. The critical mass has not yet been reached to overthrow the current tyranny. In the meantime, the man looking for adventure will surely find some, and in many cases it may be closer than you think. There’s a whole other world burning just south of Anglo America.

My advice for those who want to pursue this avenue of personal fulfillment: Get out of debt, stay out of debt, limit interactions with women to fun and games, become a minimalist, and dive in. You won’t miss the mall, McDonald’s and loud, obnoxious women as much as you might think.

Help us grow by making a purchase from our Recommended Reading and Viewing page or our Politically Incorrect Apparel and Merchandise page or buy anything from Amazon using this link. You can also Sponsor The New Modern Man for as little as $1 a month. This The New Modern Man Article originally ran on Return of Kings.

Stories from the Road: Staying Up All Night Partying with and Banging a Hot Black Girl

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Just capped off a multi-day romp with what will be one of the most memorable girls of my life, one similar in appearance to this model

Stories from the Road | Bro Stories from my Travels

This article is the beginning of series occasionally detailing some highs and lows from my adventures abroad chasing hot chicks and having other sorts of mischievous fun. So, let’s get right to business detailing some time I spent with a hot Haitian girl.

To me, there is nothing like a sweet girl. But this girl goes beyond sweet, she is dripping with sweetness. She exudes it from her pores. It is her essence. As soon as I met her I knew she was different. Best of all, she’s 20 years old. Her breasts are firm and supple. And I need not mention the beauties of the black behind as any man who has eyes knows when black girls have it, it’s jaw dropping. (Not the fat asses of American black women. The natural amazing curve that thinner black women abroad have). As soon as we met I knew this was going to be one of those electric relationships, ever how long it lasts. After a night of caliente salsa dancing at the discoteca, we ended up back at her place listening to Kompas and all other kinds of music. She invited me over. Hey, who am to refuse.

Oh, for those interested in aesthetics this song also comes to mind. (I couldn’t feel my face, either). I know it was one of the many jams playing when I turned on the music at her place.

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We spent 3 or 4 days together having some of the hottest, nastiest sex ever. I was amazed at just how much she enjoys bumping and grinding and everything in between. I don’t know about you but I love having a chick sit on my face and wriggle (to borrow a line from Airplane!). Then her on top, me on top, and every position in between. She’s one of those girls who really enjoys sex, and these kinds of girls are just electric in bed.

In between sex we would head out to the food carts at 4 am, or I would send her out for a tostada the next morning. Or we would go play pool, dance, and drink it up. It was one of those whimsical, magical flings. Fun from beginning to end, when a man sincerely enjoys the company of the girl he’s just met. Call it being high on love, or lust.

After several days of sex and fun, with things like me showing her how to drive a motorcycle at the beach, to me dodging the other chicks in town I know by taking the back roads when we would go out, to us smoking hookah in a bar, it was unfortunately time for me to go. She was practically begging me not to leave her, apparently Game really worked on this chick. Even as hardened as I have become towards women through a lifetime of seeing their tricks in action, I couldn’t help but return the kindness to her. She ate it up. I’ll never forget this girl I met on a random encounter in a discoteca for the rest of my life.

I’ll surely be looking her up again soon.

Gentlemen, I believe the key to living a great life lies not in what kind of material crap we buy, but in the awesome experiences we have. This is one of those times where I didn’t care that we were hanging out in her one room apartment for several days and I had one bag of clothes with me and my laptop and tablet. It was all about the experience and the adventure of being with a girl that really loved being with me and I loved being with her.

This simple experience and being able to have more like it on a regular basis makes anything back home pale in comparison. Like butterfly’s wings being touched, when a man realizes that the price of all the garbage he has been conditioned to buy is to enrich some CEO at his expense and only to maximize quarterly profits, it’s enough to spark a revolt in his mind. Fuck you and your 60 hour a week Puritan work ethic, Matrix tax farmers. Some of us have found a way to have an awesome life on much less cash and crap than you’ve told us we need.

This enchanting ebony babe will now and forever be immortalized in my memory and in print. What an experience. This short story helps illustrate why I will always have a special place in my heart for the black girls I’ve dated and had flings with. It’s fun being around them.

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Postcards from Paradise: Fuck The Haters

PostcardWhile some bitches sit around posting hate, I write articles here and at Return of Kings, and help men empower themselves through my RF Life Coaching service.

Then, I spend the rest of my time enjoying this lifestyle, while not giving a fuck about the haters. There’s Spanish wine on the beach, sitting by crystal clear and Maui blue waters, and strolls down dirt roads in pristine palm forests just to name a few ways to pass a slow and easy tropical afternoon.

Then there’s the women, who love partying with the joven “gringo loco” and dancing all night long. Yes men, life among the 95% of the world’s population that hasn’t been subjected to feminazism is bliss. The best decision I ever made was leaving socially engineered Anglo America. Check out the music video to see a snapshot of what a typical Saturday night is like down here in Latin America. So, to review:

  • Beaches
  • Booze
  • Bitches
  • Freedom (real freedom, not the deceptive slogan)

Have questions about how you can do the same thing? Want a personalized response from me? Check out my RF Life Coaching service and request either a private email response or an article to be written about your question for only $20.

As much as I love the Caribbean, there’s much more of the world to see. With your support, I’ll be touring the world in the coming years writing articles from abroad as I see just how much life there is to be lived outside the corporate plantation that has become man-hating Anglo America. You can Donate to the cause here.

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Until next time,

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Help us grow by making a purchase from our Recommended Reading and Viewing page or our Politically Incorrect Apparel and Merchandise page or buy anything from Amazon using this link. You can also Sponsor The New Modern Man for as little as $1 a month.

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