Should You Rent or Buy?
Advice for upwardly mobile young bucks
Earlier this week the Tortuga Society’s illustrious
published a piece entitled Homes, Hope, and Our Future: America Can’t Afford to Leave Millennials Behind.Some of you will remember Marcus from the podcast episode I recorded with him this past April to discuss race relations between Whites and Blacks in America—which btw is one of the all-time greatest episodes of WRP and I emphatically recommend to you boys as background listening the next time you need to e.g. fold laundry or extricate several dozen bags of garbage from your condominium.
Anyway Marcus is an SME in all matters real estate and his treatise dripping with actionable wisdom for younger fellows looking to become a homeowner in the immediate future, so if that sounds like you I’d definitely check it out.
The piece you’re reading is something rather different—a disquisition on whether it’s werf it for a young man to become a homeowner in the first place.
I bought my condo in June of 2022.
It was kind of a last minute decision since I’d goyishly assumed my apartment would let me renew my lease under the last year’s payment structure as they had in 2021, when I was renting a one bedroom unit on my building’s 29th floor for I want to say $1900?
Even that amount had registered to me as extortionate coming out of the wholesome chungus $1100 two bedroom in Omaha I’d left encrusted in the puke of my departed Mischling bestie, but I was quickly disabused of that notion by one of my neighbors: a pasty software engineer called “Darren” I sometimes exercised with at 3am to avoid the inevitable Brazilians curling in the squat rack. The lad had been one of Orlando’s very first Covid refugees coming out of NYC—though unhappily far from the last, hence my rent increasing to $2600 in 2022.
When first informed of the hike my initial reaction was to briefly become antisemitic again for the first time in over a year. Then I got kind of faggy / sentimental thinking about Leah—my most recent Jewess who I’d alienated in January after backhanding her during sex (which she usually found super hot btw, but this time I’d clumsily collided with her jawbone and made her cry I think esp because it occurred halfway through Pride and Prejudice which was kind of like her special moobie) and also mentioning to her having given these two cunty little dykes an allowance to fuck em in a threesome despite never giving Leah one (which tbf she never asked for and we weren’t exclusive technically but that’s also a very 28yo teenage boy way of looking at relationships)—and so immediately shifted my blame instead to Josef Bidenflation and volunteered for Ron DeSantis’s reelection campaign.
Sadly that impulse also faded pretty quickly when the Zoomer boy they sent to follow up on my application not only wasn’t racist literally at all but simply wanted me to phone bank for them or some shit instead of designing propaganda like I literally got internet famous for as part of the Alt Right back when I was his shitty age.
At this point I was a hot shot actuarial consultant at a Big Four, and clearly above such things.
So long story short I decided to buy a condo instead.
As I see it there are four main factors a young man needs to assess when determining whether homeownership is right for him:
A) Macroeconomics
B) Mobility
C) Status Coding
D) Lifestyle
I don’t have a lot of thoughts about the “financial” aspect of it per se as I’m assuming you make decent money and don’t really care about poor people. If you have money and want to buy then move it around so you can; if not you should change that.
Anyway let’s go through the above in detail.
Macroeconomics — One of the most fake and gay aspects of modern capitalism is the fact that your functional ability to build wealth via real estate is hugely contingent on the interest rate environment / housing prices around the time you develop an urge to buy. It’s kind of all just an absurd roll of the dice where certain generations (or more aptly microgenerations) really do get fucked sometimes relative to others. That said I wouldn’t say Millennials have been especially unlucky in the grand scheme of things given both 2011-2013 and 2020-2021 were pretty gr8 times to buy all things considered and Late Millennials in particular had access to loads of high paying remote work during our prime early homebuying years. We’re probs just a bit less likely to have liquidity for a down payment compared to prior generations because it’s so tempting to spend our entire paycheck on avocado toast / funko pops / pounding Gen Z asshole.
Point is you need to accept that the market is influenced by all kinds of shit outside your control and it’s kind of autistic to view housing first as an investment instead of as something you’re consuming, as there are lots of highly salient considerations pursuant very specifically to that aspect of it. The biggest advantage of real estate as an investment vehicle has always been that it forces unagentic types to build equity, but this day and age there are loads of potentially better options for a risk-tolerant younger dude with time on his hands. With your housing situation it’s more the externalities / non-fungibles you really need to focus on because that’s what shapes your quality of life at the end of the day.
Mobility — Sadly the era of hyperabundant remote work is over, and unless Xi can pull off another Plandemic it will likely be a huge pain in the ass for the foreseeable future securing a laptop sinecure without at least a decade or so of experience in your particular industry. Which means that until you reach that point as a young guy you REALLY don’t want to be tied down to one shitty location—something a mortgage tends to do to you since it’s a much bigger pain in the ass to get rid of both logistically and financially given that even if the market works in your favor you aren’t building that much equity in the early years as your initial mortgage payments are going overwhelmingly towards (((interest))) when you look at any amortization schedule:
It’s also just kind of gay / womanly to stay in the same location forever during your twenties—especially if it’s close to your parents, because in practice you won’t feel like an ackshual adult until there’s a couple thousand miles separating you and your mom. Striking out on your own and moving to a distant city is one of the most crucial rites of American manhood, and one of the only aspects of Heritage American culture I view as uncomplicatedly superior to my own Ellis Islander heritage.
Which isn’t to say you should go it alone, of course; moving to a new city without any frens is probs not the best move for Zoomer boys in particular given literally all of you are kind of autistic. When I myself left the Valley for Tampa in 2017 for instance I was accompanied by the aforementioned Mischling BFF and was simultaneously pursuing Natalie in nearby Orlando, so it never really felt like I was a rootless cosmopolitan or whatever and the situation kind of proffered the best of both worlds. IMO you fellers should consider something similar because moving to a new city with a buddy and taking it on together has a very winsome Tulio and Miguel vibe.
Status Coding — The world takes you a lot more seriously as a homeowner—especially old people and women over 25, and if you don’t own a house by 30 as a rich guy you become kind of lothario-coded / gay-coded to the sort of cognitively conservative broads you fags see as wifey types. And if you can pull off the former they’ll for sure use you for cock on the DL, but it will be an uphill battle coming off as hubs material on the first few dates, especially when she starts wanting to chickify your bachelor pad (if she doesn’t do this btw she doesn’t ackshully like you), while her parents / fat friends will be significantly less likely to trust you prima facie.
Hell, now that I think about it owning a house is literally one of the reasons Mara gave me in 2021 for going back to her shitty fake fiancé; having been raised by retarded Texan Boomers his homeownership gave wholesome upstanding Paul Ryan energy to her whereas my own renting downtown at over three times his income gave douchey financebro even though I was the nigga faggotishly in love with her while he was the one who ended up dumping the bih like an expired milk carton not a month after her thirtieth birthday. But in practice that was kind of just my own fault for not grokking that signaling is kind of all that matters with girls since most of them are genuinely quite retarded deep down which means if you ackshully love women you need to get capable at grooming them and adroitly calibrating the vibes you emit.
The same principle applies to employers, who trust you a lot more if you aren’t mobile since they perceive that as locking you into eating their cum more permanently; when I was at Deloitte for instance my homebuying saga that summer for sure helped my Director see me as more “ready” for promotion to Manager… which if I’m honest I most def wasn’t at the time, but exactly like with women signaling is all that really matters at work, and in the end I managed to groom that raghead like Clare Quilty.
The thing you need to realize is that especially in the Zoomer Oral Culture there’s quite literally no reason your smoke actually has to correspond with your fire in any meaningful sense; the fellers you’re competing with lie to women and weaker men literally all the time and if you ever point this out their victims will as a rule either blame you for mentioning it or think it’s funny / sexy / impressive. Success justifies itself and fake it till you make it tends to work very splendidly except when it doesn’t.
So long story short I’m saying you should lie to people about being a homeowner.
Only if you’re renting a house, though—owning a condo will perhaps improve your dating prospects as like a gay guy / middle aged divorced dad doing old people dating but I can attest that it won’t impress literally any 27 year old with a tingling ovaries; if anything she’ll view it as an annoying obstacle and proof you’re kind of a fuckboy.
That said it WILL impress certain teenage girls with Asperger’s Syndrome who think of Building Wealth in a malebrained way and so will see it as making you more Daddy; being a homeonwer for sure helped me steal Rose from her brownoid internet bee eff, for instance. But it wouldn’t have done much to keep Mara around as neurotypical gals are allergic to Microsoft Excel and live wholly in the vibesverse, being kind of Warren Harding coded by disposition and militantly worshipping normalcy qua normalcy.
There are some legitimate reasons for this I’ll explore at greater length later in this piece. But the primary reason is that historically homeownership was objectively the best and most obvious vector for wealth creation as a young man and even if that isn’t still the case today girls are subject to greater ontological inertia than menfolk hence Paglia’s famous quote about Mozart and Jack the Ripper. When you win chickies forget they ever opposed you and enthusiastically gargle your semen, but until then you kind of have to lie to them most the time if you’re rolling the dice in any meaningful sense.
Lifestyle — It’s orders of magnitude harder to get pussy living in the burbs compared to downtown where it’s p trivial racking up a triple digit bodycount even as a weird scary fat guy women call Exhausting given that A) you live within walking distance of venues that serve alcoholic beverages; and more importantly B) girlypops can park in a public garage near your digs under the auspices of plausible deniability without feeling like a Big Huge Whore, which I’m certain is the main reason I was able to couple with very nearly all the lasses in my Rogues Gallery, at least 80% of whom demanded we meet in a Public Location first. Thing is most of those chicks especially in 2023 I kind of just dragged upstairs and shoved my cock in immediately because all they really wanted was a plausible deniability garage + proof I wasn’t a serial killer (which tbf a few girls did Nope out of it after catching me in Day 3 of my Addy Cycle, but most of them were mollified when I pointed out my walls were waaaay too thin to murder anyone safely hence all those niggas operating out in the boonies).
Anyway living on a high story for sure drops panties, but the chickies who’ll be visibly impressed by that sort of thing aren’t exactly the ones you’d want to get a ring most of the time. Though that’s kind of also just the case with everything I find.
There’s also sort of a Bachelor Pad Trap where once you get used to living the comfy indulgent yuppie lifestyle it’s far harder to cohabitate with a bih since the both of you just won’t have enough space in the sort of urban residence that initially makes sense for a single man. Unless you’re well-acclimated to being a hardscrabble poor person without any privacy or legroom it will get claustrophobic significantly faster than you anticipate and you’ll start to see your Beautiful Baby as kind of intrusive / molesty as her makeup colonizes your bathroom countertop and her Tiktok Giggles constantly derail your train of thought, such that to make it work you’ll almost certainly need to upgrade to a two or even three bedroom unit twice as expensive as any comparable house in which case literally why not just get a house?
So my ultimate conclusion is that while a feller’s Rakemaxxing (which I’d hazard most young duderinos would benefit from around 25-28 at least) he should stay in the city keeping himself nimble as possible without any expensive weighty furniture Hispanic mover guys always seem to damage in some way and then once he’s ready to take a wife he should move out to the burbs and get a bigass house and fill it with nice shit.
That said until he’s ackshully married he should almost certainly just rent either way.
But once he gets the house and starts to look for a wife he also should lie his fucking ass off to everyone he meets—and especially women—about being a homeowner
I never stopped loving Natalie—never could, frankly.
The general tendency of women not to sympathize with this sort of thing is the one aspect of their character I find genuinely repulsive and contemptible. But other than that my misogyny tends to run pretty fleeting / cartoonish and both and are convinced I don’t ackshully hate women which seems good enough for me.
Anyway Nat was the reason I moved to Orlando in 2020. We came pretty close to picking shit up that year on several occasions, but after Covid nixed her Disney College Program she spent most of the annum coronum dithering around quirkily as I transformed into a rather incorrigible fuckboy—which tbh did a remarkable job numbing the resulting frustration / loneliness but realistically also kind of fried my oxytocin receptors, such that by 2021 I was structuring basically all of my life around getting pussy and didn’t much care for anything else.
A lot of people these days will try to shame men for living this way, but idk in my opinion if this is where you end up then so be it—the important thing is to do it confidently and well without any lamo slave morality self-doubt. Recall we live in a world that ruthlessly punishes male passion, male appetite, and male interiority; in practice fuckboyism is the solitary vector men have for escaping that malarky and asserting our basic right to want shit.
At the same time, this is a pretty nihilistic path very few of us will want to cling to forever.
And thankfully 2022 reinvigorated me—at least for a time. I took my fancy new Deloitte job super cereal at first and started acting a lot more like an adult more generally, at long last investing in proper decor for instance. During those last six months in my $1900 apartment it very genuinely felt like mine in a deeply substantive way I’d never experienced before.
This opened the door somewhat to dating women of my own age / social class—e.g. my former phone bestie Diana the Tradgirl, who floated the idea of marrying me if I gave up porn and urbanism and my groace fetishes and built her Monticello, and also my current phone bestie Gretel the Suicidekraut (who’d replaced Diana in October of 2021 after the two of us quarreled about something super gay I scarcely remember) who agreed to visit me that summer to test the waters for a relationship. For the first half of that year I was genuinely quite civilized, and in such a frame of mind buying my condo seemed a logical decision in line with my broader life trajectory—especially given the rent hike, which made me think why not just buy at this point?
Then Gretel flaked on the trip to come see me and I mostly went back to dating working class Zoomettes with molested girl voice, at which point I kind of just resented my new place and emphatically yearned to go back to renting so I could randomly torch my life more easily.
The day you get a mortgage is the day you start to act like a Middle Aged Man.
You begin to care somewhat about what your neighbors think of you.
You start to find Palestinians more annoying than Jews.
Whenever you encounter a crew of rowdy young bucks making mischief in close proximity to your home your instinct is no longer to smirk at them in solidarity so much as to think brrrrrr this is intolerable! in the voice of a walrus holding a cigar.
It represents matriculation from the Hunter stage of masculinity to the Lord stage—neither of which is “better” than the other, understand. They’re both phases you need to go through, and we all have different windows of our life that are better or worse for that. Time that shit right and you’ll hit the ground running with real momentum; time it wrong and you’re setting yourself up for a real bitch of a midlife crisis.
But in my opinion it’s kind of retarded doing it before you’re meaningfully anchored down to a gal you really want to build a life with, for the simple reason that Hunters have a lot more fun than Lords and are hotter and sexier to Maids and Matrons both.
The chief advantage to being a Lord is in enabling you to build a legacy and scale up in masculine status hierarchies. But the puss exchange rate on that is getting worse and worse each year (yes girls love “owns a house” in theory but even then they kind of prefer you to act like a 19 year old shithead; recall Mara’s fiancé was still sending Natalie snapchats of himself pissing for instance well after he got engaged to her) and the attendant responsibilities concomitantly faker and gayer. So to my mind the trve and proper meta is to Huntermaxx—i.e. remain agile and nimble and willing to snap a few fingies here and there in pursuit of your goals—until you get the qt3.14 wifey (and realistically also get her preggers so she herself feels locked down very substantively) and are well positioned take the Lordmaxxed grillpill / wholesome chungus mortgage.
Moreover it should be something you do because you want to—it ought to feel organic in a way you’re reasonably sure will prove lasting. Lordship is only ever robust when it comes from a place of abundance—e.g. it being too tiresome to keep up with texting multiple bitches at once or you really wanting to focus on building out your business as opposed to unrepentant fuckboyism. What you very much DON’T want to do is rush into that shit because you feel socially obliged to do so or desperately want to lock down a girl you aren’t able to dominate super duper naturally. If that’s your problem it’s for sure a better idea to lean into fuckboyism for a while until you have the sexual gravitas genuine male headship requires and then do the soft narc routine while lying about owning the house you’re renting once you’re ready to take a wife.
Now gay old people raised under postwar slave morality Straussianism will of course prate about “morality” and such but Zoomer guys understand better than anyone that morality doesn’t exist in the modern world in any meaningful sense—particularly for young men, who realistically morality never helped literally ever, but these days niggas don’t even have the good grace to fucking pretend it’s to your benefit.
So just ignore it and lie to everyone. What ackshully matters is that you do it well in a way that dignifies your counterparty’s position—particularly when dealing with girls.
Because the dirty little secret is as men we don’t have to be moral; we just have to win, after which everything justifies itself and your haters are gross incels tautologically.
My homebuying experience was kind of anticlimactic.
As a very stereotypical Late Millennial I was kind of expecting the experience to have its own musical number with everyone treating me like Harry Potter opening his bank account at Gringotts, whereas in practice the Dominican assigned to my mortgage at Wells Fargo kept fucking things up and I had to ride his ass constantly which was kind of gay but other than that it was just a lot of boring paperwork since I found the condo I wanted almost instantly.
I got it for like $280k at 5.5% or something—which seemed like a fantastic deal at the time since the market value was like $320k, but I also didn’t let myself get excited about that since the Boomer couple I bought it from had Jew names and I figured ZOG had let them know the market was about to crash, which sure enough the Zestimate was like $290k in a few months. Whatever.
Its floorplan was almost identical to that of my apartment—the primary difference being that the bedroom isn’t cordoned off with a door and shit but is just separated from the living room by a divider, which means I have to chase down my cats now to lock them in the bathroom whenever I bring a girlypop up for fuckin as otherwise Beauregard will go MRROOWOW MROOOW MRROOW really loud while we’re having sex and ruin my boners.
Beauregard’s a bit of a faggot, you see.
At times quite literally—he often enjoys physically mounting his baby bro Cricket (who is ackshully several months his senior but also considerably smaller than him physically) as if he’s attempting to ram his dick up Cricket’s asshole, which doesn’t make much sense given that the two of them are castrated… but I suppose if someone removed mine own penis I might also be prone to such behavior come to think of it.
Much like my condo I got the two of them kind of on a whim way back in late 2021 when I was still seeing Leah and it felt like she was about to become my girlfriend—primarily because Liking Cats kind of seemed to be her entire-ass personality at the time which is why for our third or fourth date I took her to a Cat Cafe, whereupon I was immediately struck by Beau’s vivacious and exuberant personality and decided to adopt him on the spot.
The tranny proprietor of the cafe also cajoled me into adopting Cricket since he was apparently pair bonded to Beau as a brother / sadomasochistic gay lover.
Cricket was somewhat more introverted than Beau (who was originally named Jesse, which I changed because that’s super gay and he looks to me like PGT Beauregard—Leah of course side-eyed me for this not even for the Confederate thing but because she’s a retarded Zoomer and thinks changing a cat’s name is abusive or w/e) but also a lot more cloyingly affectionate; he cuddles with everyone super duper aggressively and is also very novelty seeking / slutty with his cuddles such that every new girl I fuck is convinced he “loves her more than me” and talks about “stealing him” which tbh is kind of like fuck you bitch.
Cricket also has Feline Herpes, which means his nose is constantly full of these huge fucking boogers / snot he loves to wipe on people, which the tranny called “allergies” at first trying to mollify my concerns but I guess they’re all sort of liars by definition and if anything I should blame myself for falling for it. Anyway whenever I get a new gf they make me take him to the vet and get antibodies or w/e which always do Precisely Nothing because it’s a fucking chronic condition that can’t be “cured” and girls are dumb but that’s also why we love em I guess idk.
Anyway Beauregard is less of a slut and only cuddles with me, but he also kind of got there with Morticia and to a lesser extent Rebecca. Other than that he kind of seems to think girls are annoying whores, which is why I like to narrate him as my evil gay bestie.
Oh and he also likes Leah, who ghosted me for like three years after our situationship fizzled out but finally responded to me this past summer I think because she needed someone to buy her tickets to see some dumb retarded rapper called “The Weekend,” and she’s kind of the only lady I’ve been having sex with since they locked up Rebecca again because if I’m honest I’m kind of just too Middle Aged / Mortgagy / Writerly for the hunt these days.
And I’m not entirely sure how much either of us even likes the other but I will say 25 year old girls are kind of perfect for an immature 32 year old overall so realistically she’s probably the most likely gal to end up as my first wife at this point (we’d for sure get divorced eventually, but I’m not all that concerned about that as she isn’t the vindictive type at all).
Anyway idk I’m clearly not the feller to take advice from if you very genuinely want to live in a manner Dave Ramsey would cosign.
But it’s also quite crucial you realize 80% of the “happily married men” out there giving you their takes are ontologically naive normgroids far less ambitious than yourself with zero insight into the tastes and sensibilities of faustian spergos (let alone the BPD art heaux we’re perennially drawn to) who half the time are married to dour tubby subaltern gals who never let them put in their ass. And don’t get me wrong, that guy is still probs happier than I am overall—but I’d still rather be me.
That said in practice it’s seldom a question of preference so much as one of neurotype and material circumstance and non-negotiable cultural incentive structures, and most intellectually disposed weirdo Zoomer guys even if they want a wholesome chungus tradlife are just objectively best served living like a bit of a ruthless kike for most of their twenties. Simple as.
Anywho lads—I’m off to relisten to that podcast episode with Marcus / finally clean my condo. If you feel like adulting along with me come give it a listen.
Until next time.
— WB
"When first informed of the hike my initial reaction was to briefly become antisemitic again for the first time in over a year. Then I got kind of faggy / sentimental thinking about Leah—my most recent Jewess "
Lol took one for the team, Leah
I bought, but I'm an old grey squirrel who needs to store large bags of squirrelchow.