He didn’t even have a relationship with his family or roommates and yet you expect him to have the ability to communicate with foids in public?
And he did try to approach normies and groups of foids at a party once which only resulted in him sperging out in front of everyone and getting attacked.
Rodger bought a bottle of vodka that night, taking a few shots for courage, maybe downing one too many. Other students were partying – "good looking popular kids," as he identified them. Without the buzz, he would have been too intimidated to mingle.
He walked into a house party. Hip-hop music blasted from the DJ booth. The students played beer pong.
Rodger soon became frustrated that no one was talking to him. Instead, women were giving "obnoxious slobs" attention, he wrote. With his inhibitions blurred by the liquor, Rodger's rage boiled over. He confronted a couple before walking outside, "realizing how pathetic I looked all by myself when everyone was partying around me."
He decided to climb onto a wooden ledge and plop onto a chair. Some partiers eventually climbed onto the ledge, too. But since the students weren't talking to him, Rodger snapped.
"That was the last straw," he wrote. "A dark, hate-fueled rage overcame my entire being, and I tried to push as many of them as I could from the 10-foot ledge."
He didn't succeed. The students pushed him back, and Rodger fell onto the street, breaking his ankle.
Elliot Rodger spent a night in July 2013 partying with the California college students he despised, a night that reflected his ambitions, fury, warped perspectives and impending law-enforcement focus, a flashpoint leading up to Friday’s attacks that left six others dead and 13 injured.
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