The first rule of Euro Jaunt Club is…..

July 30, 2015
krauserpua

always talk about Euro Jaunt Club.

My life in 2015 has settled into a familiar pattern. I hide out in Newcastle in winter, trying to get some work done, see my friends, and recuperate in preparation for the new season of travel. Then round about mid-March I begin to slot in little two-week trips to Europe to chase girls, with short breaks back in Newcastle between each one.

It’s working out well but like any big change, it brings challenges. By way of comparison, I spent 2012/13 living with the Rock Solid Game guys in London and splitting my game between the familiar haunts of London and short trips abroad. That was a lifestyle that had a solid “base” and a tight-knit group of friends seeing each other every day. By early 2014 it had broken up so I spent most of that year on the road, a month at a time in each destination travelling with mostly the same guys. That was a new flavour again, like being a nomad with a tiny travelling gang. Both patterns were good, but both had challenges.

"It seems a few of you haven't been following the first rule...."

“It seems a few of you haven’t been following the first rule….”

So 2015 is different again. Much more “off” time with the family in my hometown and the trips have been much shorter stays in any given city, rarely more than ten days. I’ve noticed a much more extreme contrast between my on and off times. While at home I barely think of women except when writing for the blog or my business. I’ll maintain a trickle of WhatsApp / Facebook with my regulars but most of the time my mind is on video games, detective novels and the gym. The first week of this is blissful and by the second week I get restless and start itching to Euro Jaunt. I don’t know if it’s worrying or liberating, but “normal life” only works for me in bite-size chunks. I can’t imagine a life without foreign adventure.

On the plus side having such complete “off” weeks really keeps me connected to reality and it’s where I’m most productive. Skirt-chasing saps all my focus for normal stuff.

I’ve noticed a real sense of time pressure on my 2015 trips that was completely absent from 2014. When you’ve got a month in one city and the dedication to keep grinding, lays start to pile up. Cutting your stay to ten days completely changes the game. Suddenly everything is pull-pull-pull. It’s been fun but my results suffered. Good stories, hot girls, but not as many as previous years.

However the biggest thing I missed towards the end of 2014 and into early 2015 was….. quality male companionship.

No homo.

It wasn’t until the grand RSG experiment broke up that I realised just how special it was to live in a big old house with all your best mates. Hanging out, drinking, training and hitting on girls together. Three years of that was a very special time. In 2014 the travel-gang thing was good too but a bit too game-focused rather than fun-focused.

Solo euro jaunting is wearing. The first real time I felt this was – of all places – in Brazil. After three weeks of isolation in Sao Paulo and Rio (much of it due to language barriers) I was desperate to get back home. I’d go out every afternoon to sit on Copacabana or Ipanema beach, sip caiparinha and just…. hate it. Too isolated. Too emotionally cold.

Shitsville

Shitsville

Those readers who have recognised me in the street and said hello this year may have noticed I’ve been far more approachable than my blog would suggest. That’s not an accident. By the middle of last year I’d started to realise that Euro Jaunting has become a “thing”. It’s not just the province of the daygamers with public profiles, or my little group of friends. There are lots and lots of men giving it a try.

Sometimes I want to cave their heads in with a big stick, like in Belgrade recently. But that’s just me and my little pet peeves. Really, stepping back and looking at it dispassionately, there are a lot of good guys out there doing it. Living the dream. Sure it’s a tough road but they are putting their money where their mouth is and giving it a go.

So I’ve been meeting up with a bunch of them and trying to cherry-pick the ones I get on with who would make good regular travel companions. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Quality male companionship.

No homo.

I’ve been really enjoying it. As much as I’ve been enjoying solo daygame this year I’ve found having a few cool buddies around massively blunts the sharp edges of Euro Jaunt weirdness. The type of Groundhog Day I complained of a few posts ago doesn’t hit so hard. The obsessive compulsion to grind the streets every day doesn’t get so vacuous.

So, Euro Jaunting is now a thing. We’ve created a monster. And I quite like it.

Nick Krauser’s opinions on race

February 22, 2015
krauserpua

There’s currently a rather involved discussion going on over at the RooshV Forum about me. You can go here to see what I originally wrote, and here for a thread Roosh started to whip things up. I’m not much interested in the opinions of people I’ve never met, but I am interested in correcting falsehoods that are spread about me – whether through malicious intent or innocent misunderstanding.

So, here are my actual views on race. Normally I restrict the “culture war” stuff to my Twitter so as to keep my blog purely Game. However, this will take more than 140 characters so the blog it must be…

  1. First thing is I am racialist not racist. That means I think race is a natural organising line in humans, just as sex and age are. For examples of this just watch groups in action e.g. prison, dance halls, housing. It takes constant intervention by integrationists to deny this natural human impulse.

  2. Second, I am committed to truth and reality above all else. Any time anyone tries to twist or deny reality, they are on my shit list. I write about this all the time in “compliance” in daygame, in martial arts, in science, and in business. It’s a pervasive human weakness to deny truth in order to advance your goals. I’m against that. I think modern culture has become extremely anti-white, at the expense of truth, and it’s a deliberate cultural marxist front.

  3. Third, I believe each race has a natural homeland – the one they evolved in. So Europe for Europeans, Africa for Africans etc and smaller subdivisions within. That doesn’t mean “no blacks in UK”, it just means UK is a white land and the laws and culture should reflect that. Everyone else has to integrate. Africans are accorded the same control of their homeland.

This naturally leads to a few fairly simple conclusions such as:

  1. Different races have differently-weighted traits, as HBD is quickly proving. Each race has a combination of positive and negative. There is no one “master race” but different combinations tend to lead to statistically observable trends that can be functional or dysfunctional depending on the environment. To deny these facts is to deny reality, which puts someone on my shit list as stated above. In practice in the West differences are usually denied in one direction only: to push down whites and push up non-whites. So, it’s a (cultural marxist) politically-motivated denial. When I highlight non-white bad behaviour on my Twitter, that’s in my mind redressing the balance of selective reporting against whites.

  2. Every race has a right to be proud of it’s own people, culture and to control it’s own lands for it’s best interests. Current Western culture is very careful in protecting these rights for everyone except whites. We are the only race not allowed to be proud. You see this on RVF when I’m immediately slandered as Stormfront and racist. That’s the closet-SJWs having a go. I don’t have any desire to see other races abandon their culture in favour of mine – for example I’m very much against colonizers forcing a subject people to speak the colonial language, and I’m against do-gooder NGOs trying to turn Nigerian schoolgirls into So-Cal SJWs.

Note this is NOT white supremacy. I don’t think the world is the white man’s playground. We have no more business in Africa than Africans have in Europe. So I was against colonialism and when the UK went to war in Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya and Kosovo I was against those wars at the time (I have a dim view of what lots of those foreigners were doing, but it was their country and not our problem. We had no right to interfere).

Also I lived in alignment with (2) in my own life: I went to Japan on a legit visa, worked four years, paid taxes, followed their laws, learned their language, then I left when my visa expired. I committed no crimes there. I didn’t apply for benefits. I didn’t try to change their culture to my liking. I didn’t demand regions of UK law. I didn’t shame the Japanese for being “racist” for not letting me vote.

So that’s the “serious” side of what I actually believe and will defend in debate. Now to discuss the inflammatory rhetoric that I often write…..

Firstly, I greatly value Victorian culture. I think that era was the greatest in UK history. One of the cultural habits of Victorians is “casual racism”. It’s basically an intersect of free speech, pattern observation, and ethnocentrism. It’s an expression of national / racial pride little different to what other countries have also used to mythologise their own histories and to provide social cohesion throughout the nation. It’s a crucial part of creating social order and a “we’re in this together”. It’s now fallen out of favour when whites do it because it’s a barrier to multiculturalism and the cultural marxist attack on white identity.

For me, casual racism is fun. It’s like people from Newcastle trolling people from Liverpool or Sunderland. I see identity groups (race, sex, age, region etc) in a good-natured competition, like rival football teams or businesses. For example Bojangles is a Liverpool fan and also my friend. So we chat, have drinks but on match day I’m in the opposite stand singing “scousers are all pedos” and hoping my team wins. I’ll shout at the referee when he disallows a Newcastle goal regardless of whether his decision is correct. I fully expect Bojangles to do the same to support his team and to ridicule mine. Then after the match we are friends again.

I happily embrace people taking the piss out of white Brits whether it’s our bad teeth, vulgar women or stodgy plain food. I fully expect every other race to have funny and offensive stereotypes about my race. They are supposed to. That’s part of their own racial pride.

That’s pretty much my view on race. I have many non-white friends on a personal level because they intuitively sense this. On a public policy level I expect the UK government to protect the interests of my people from predation by rival groups. I expect my Indian friends to expect the Indian government to look after their interests, including when those interests are in conflict with the UK. And so on. There’s no contradiction between this and having Indian friends.

I’m not even anti-Muslim. I’m just anti-Muslim-conquest-of-Europe. I think they have a stupid backward religion but that’s their business. They can do whatever they want in their homeland.

Hollowing out

February 18, 2015
krauserpua

If I was to pick my lowest point of 2014, it would have to be my flight home from Prague on November 6th. The previous day I’d rotated four girls through my bed, all of them solid 8s, the oldest 26 years old. I’d fucked three and the fourth was (and remains) a 19 yr old virgin. I’d fingered her a bit while she gave me a timid blowjob (the first of her life).

This was a holiday where I closed four girls in the last six days. It was clearly the highlight of my entire Game career. The best I’ve ever done per the younger-hotter-tighter scale. Yet as I boarded the Jet2 flight home to Newcastle, the filming of Daygame Overkill just two days away, I was feeling low. Dejected, even. Why was such a high followed by such a crushing low?

A low point, yesterday

A low point, yesterday

A passing comment from Steve a year earlier came to mind, “Nick, fucking birds isn’t all that. Once you’ve shot your bolt you’re still the same man you always were. Shagging birds doesn’t solve anything.”

I was feeling this on a deep level. It’s pretty hard to conceive of a better send-off to the 2014 Euro-Jaunt season than to parade a string of hot young things through my bed on the last day in Prague. It’s one of those improbable scenarios that can only happen after years of patient work and then jumping on statistical rarerities when they pop up. So, if that’s as good as it gets and yet next day I’m still the same man with the same concerns…… oh well.

Game is a necessary but insufficient condition for a happy life
Moving away from the deeply introspective level, away from high-falutin’ concerns over contentedness and peace of mind, there’s also a cyclical aspect to the ups and downs of a player’s life. Sexual desire is a strongly motivating force that gives a man a sense of purpose – get laid. All that time you are chasing tail you have your eyes fixed on the prize and a clear sense of where you want to be. Once you’ve actually won, that goal evaporates. Typically a new goal immediately presents itself – the next girl. But knock over a bunch of girls in a short time span and that next target doesn’t appear.

Wasteful

Wasteful

You’ve shagged yourself out. All that energising testosterone has been squirted across a succession of firm breasts and into hungry young mouths. The tanks have run dry and listlessness follows. That’s how I felt boarding the plane. Half a pint of my DNA was currently being digested in the four corners of Prague while I was a shambling drained wreck waiting at the departures gate cursing my PSVita as it ran out of battery. I just wanted to lie down by a log fire and sip a cup of hot chocolate.

That’s just a short-term cycle driven by hormones. There’s also a medium-term cycle that I call Cycles of Immersion in Daygame Mastery. Players need an off-season to avoid the dreaded Hollowing Out.

Dark-Souls-II-Hollow-Lullaby-Trailer-600x300

Bear with me on a digression into Dark Souls 2. I love video games more than the Game itself. My favourite games of recent years are the Japanese cult hit Souls series. You play a solo adventurer thrust into a hostile demon world with no more than a broken sword. The game is punishingly unwelcoming – there’s no map, the NPCs give no advice, there are no waypoints, and everything that moves wants to kill you. It’s just you against the world. Alone. Like Oxford Street on Saturday afternoon.

Your character begins as a human but you die pretty quick. The first encounter with the undead ends with you as a bloody pool on the stone floor. Your spirit respawns but now you’re “hollow”. Your humanity died with your physical body and you’re now a shambling undead. Your health bar is limited to 2/3 of your human form and your face is a ghastly rictus grin. You notice most of the human NPCs dare not venture out of the small safe havens because the whole world is full of hollows. Those undead you must kill are just men similar to you who turned hollow sooner. The whole game becomes a battle to regain sources of humanity in the world to combat the degenerative hollowing process.

It’s grim stuff.

Now replace the caverns and castles of Boletaria with the pedestrian streets of Eastern Europe. Really they look quite similar – just light a few lanterns and increase the footfall. Now you and your fellow NPCs daygamers are travelling through a cold unyielding world, each creating his own adventure, creating and breaking alliances as their paths cross and then diverge. Each evening the fellow wanderers come back to the shrine to warm themselves by the campfire, drink health potions, and share stories by the firelight. Some poor lost souls get beasted in the wide world and shamble back as hollows, searching for humanity.

There's only so much of this you can take

There’s only so much of this you can take

Back in the USA’94 world cup I remember the German coach being asked why he allowed the team’s wives and girlfriends to stay in the same hotel as the players. Wouldn’t that deplete the players of their energy? No, he replied. Sex isn’t the problem. It’s the chasing sex that tires the men out. I’ve noticed this. I have an inability to produce anything of consequence while on a Euro Jaunt. No sooner have I sat down in Starbucks to read a book than a lithe hottie will totter past and sit opposite me. So I start that familiar self-dialogue:

Shall I open her? Okay, let’s figure out a category for her. Hmmm, what country? Okay, is she solo or waiting for her friend to come up from the barista counter? Right, should I try forcing an IOI first……

Ten minutes pass and I find I’m re-reading the same page over and over again, unable to absorb anything. That girl may wander off but I see a few more walk past the window. And my Whatsapp buzzes as a new lead has responded to a message. And should I invited last night’s close out tonight for some jollies?

A week of this is fine before heading back to normality, but a full month grinds me down. My 2014 Euro-Jaunt season was April to November, with only short one-week trips back to Newcastle to try to reconnect to my humanity. Halfway through a Jaunt I find myself daydreaming of “reality”: of Call Of Duty on my big screen TV, of a giant yorkshire pudding with Cumberland sausages from my favourite cafe in Newcastle’s Grainger Market. I start forming lists of all the good books I’ll read “once I get away from all these women who distract me”.

Chasing women is extremely disippating. It’s great fun but needs to be managed. I know some very effective seducers who are empty shells of men – completely hollow. Not all the time, but I see them hollowing out over time until they seem to realise the danger and then rub the Homeward Bone and come back to the campfire to recover their humanity. So this is the situation I find myself in now. My Euro season finished at the beginning of November and I haven’t banged a new girl since. I put myself into a self-imposed hibernation to recover humanity and reverse the hollowing process. But now it’s February and I’m human again. I’m chomping at the bit. Now I see other guys out daygaming and I’m like a kid clockwatching during the last lesson of the schoolday, waiting for the bell to ring so he can run down to the lake with his pals and swim in the water.

So my advice to you all as the Euro-season rolls around in late-March is to marshall your resources carefully and book regular trips back to the campfire. Maintain your hobbies, your routines, and your connections to humanity. Success can hollow you out faster than failure.

Filming in London on 6th February – casting call

January 27, 2015
krauserpua

Chaps,

I’m looking for guys who would like to attend my next seminar. It’s a small affair, with a tightly limited number of spaces. Ideally, I’ll fill the room with guys who are:

1. Aged between 18 and 23.

2. Relative beginners. Somewhere between 10 and 500 sets.

3. Able to attend daytime on Friday.

4. Willing to do some sets on the infield section around Covent Garden.

5. Willing to be interviewed by a TV production company who are making a documentary about one of the students.

None of those five requirements are set in stone but I will give preferential treatment to people who meet them, and it won’t take long for the ten seats to fill. Contact me at nickkrauser1 [at] gmail [dot] com  This is all happening fast.

UPDATE: A few people misunderstood the “casting call” term. I am looking for attendees to sit in the audience. I’m not looking for additional public speakers.

The real secret of eternal youth

December 19, 2014
krauserpua

I woke up late today, about 11am, because I’m sleeping off a root canal treatment I had yesterday in Newcastle. Yes, my teeth are still fucking with me. Hopefully it’s all sorted now. So, I wake up and shuffle into the bathroom for a hot shower, climb into my clothes and then set the coffee filter machine brewing my morning cup. I can hear birds singing in the garden and I look out the conservatory windows to see the family cats chasing one up a tree.

but 4 degrees Celcius

but 4 degrees Celcius

My laptop boots up and I notice Steam is having a holiday sale. Chivalry is reduced from £18.99 to £4.99 so I snap it up and it downloads while I check my mails, books sales, and do my daily round-up of the few blogs I still regularly read (Steve Sailer, Heartiste, Vox Day, Roosh, D&P). Then I run around medieval Europe hacking limbs from rival knights for half an hour. Hmmmm, I’m hungry. I walk down the local pub for Cumberland sausages on mash inside a giant Yorkshire Pudding. I get a second coffee and read through my hardboiled detective paperback. It’s about 2pm now. I’m WhatsApping a few of the girls on my international rotation, hassling them for new naked photos. It’s Friday. Anyway…. I won’t bore you with my day. The point is this…… I begin to ruminate on the nature of free time.

There is only one truly precious resource in life – your time.

Time is the only thing you can’t get more of. It’s the resource you trade for everything else. When you go to work you trade it for money. With hobbies you trade it for fun. With girls you trade it for sex and affection. It’s your most precious resource and you’d better use it wisely. Don’t give it away cheaply. Don’t waste it. Don’t let people steal it. So my mind wanders further and I do a quick calculation of my free time now compared to when I worked “in the matrix” in my banking job. So, let’s compare:

Banking

  • 07:45 – Wake up, shower, rush breakfast, get dressed, walk to work.
  • 09:00 – Morning in the office, until the lunch break from 1pm till 2pm – half of that is walking to deli and waiting in queue.
  • 14:00 – Afternoon in the office, usually getting out at about 6pm.
  • 18:00 – Walk home, pick up dry cleaning, unburden myself of work clothes, put on normal clothes, start cooking.
  • 20:00 – Finally I’m rested and well fed. My free time begins.
  • 00:00 – Bedtime.

Now

  • ??:?? – Wake up when I damn well feel like it.
  • ??:?? – An hour or so on my business, blog, and related mails and admin
  • ??:?? – If I feel like working I’ll do anywhere from one hour to ten hours work on a product or blogpost.

So I realised that while at work I only really had four hours of free time per weekday, or twenty hours a week. Now it’s more like fifteen hours per day is free. I’ve quadrupled my weekday free time. Now, that’s not to say I lie in a hammock and watch Family Guy all day but almost my entire waking life is a blank slate that I fill with the things I feel like doing and only those. Future project that over the rest of my life. Twenty hours a week vs fifteen hours a day. Let’s say weekends are the same in both lifestyles.

Someone who wasted my time, yesterday.

Someone who wasted my time, yesterday.

If you consider, like I do, that the real business of living is doing the things you like in your free time then I’ve “extended my life” by four times.

I’m not saying the maths is perfect, but it’s a thought isn’t it. Unplugging doesn’t just extend your life through better health and lower stress. You’re pretty much extending it just by the incredible multiplier applied to your free time.

Tom Torero fakes an infield kiss close

December 12, 2014
krauserpua

The latest scandal-of-the-week is that famous daygame instructor Tom Torero was caught out having hired an actress to appear in a “kiss close” video recorded outside Selfridges on Oxford Street in summer 2012. I can’t stay out of it because: (I) the hater who found out about the actress set up fake forum accounts as “krauserpua” in order to blame the scandal on me (ii) Tom is the main co-creator of the London Daygame Model that I use and teach (iii) Tom is a personal friend of mine. So, here’s my response. First the facts:

  • Yes, Tom did fake that infield as he has admitted on his website here.
  • No, I didn’t know he had faked it until he admitted it to me in a private message shortly before posting his public admission.

It’s incredibly difficult to get accurate information about the sexual market place. Both men and women lie about everything be it notch counts, intentions, quality and so on. It’s also incredibly difficult to get accurate information about the seduction process because it’s a necessarily private affair which you can’t simply film. Girls won’t react naturally if they know a camera is on, they won’t want you to record them due to fears over their reputation, and there are additional legal issues if you’re recording in a situation that has the “assumption of privacy”. Nothing new here, but it creates a huge transparency problem which is ruthlessly exploited by the charlatans and fakes in the PUA industry who will either lie, evade or use smoke’n’mirrors to convey a credibility to their customers that they don’t deserve.

As players / wannabe players, you are fully aware how difficult it is to decide who you can trust. Which teacher? Which system? What is a reasonably expectation of success?

That’s why there’s such a big reaction to Tom’s infield revelation. For several years he had distinguished himself as someone who could be trusted by virtue of his copious library of infield recordings on the street, on dates, and even in the bedroom. People could watch the videos, conclude “Tom is legit” and this tough issue was resolved. The realisation that one of these videos is fake suddenly upsets the apple cart. People are asking themselves “so is he just another charlatan?”

I predict there will be two types of reaction to this news based upon whether the recipient has met Tom personally and seen him in action, or hasn’t.

People Who Don’t Know Tom – Earnest students of Game will quite reasonably conclude he’s a fraud, that this video expose is damning evidence, and that he can thus be thrown in the dustbin alongside Mehow, Vince Kelvin, David DeAngelo and others who have been either caught faking or otherwise never proved their bona fides. I can’t say I blame them. It’s important to be skeptical of people’s claims and to demand evidence. It’s reasonable to give special weight to those incidents which suggest dishonesty. In addition to genuine students of the Game, the PUAhater crowd will also seize on this as further evidence that Game Doesn’t Work. Tom was an average-looking man banging hot girls (something which can’t happen according to the Looks-Money-Status crowd) so the fact he faked one video will immediately lead them to include every single one of his successes was faked. There’s not much to say about that. PUAhater’s are mentally ill. Let them wallow in their own misery.

People Who Do Know Tom – What’s interesting to me is that over the years Tom has taught hundreds of students, and hundreds more have used the day game model he created with me (and others). Literally hundreds of people have seen Tom live in-set with their own eyes in unfakeable interactions. Hundreds have been live in-set themselves implementing advice they got from Tom and then seeing the effect it has on the girls. These people have enough direct evidence of their own eyes that (i) Tom’s daygame skills are for real and (ii) the London Daygame Model works, that the fact Tom got caught red-handed faking one infield doesn’t really matter. Yes, it was a bad thing to do. But no, it doesn’t shake their confidence in the model or Tom’s abilities as a coach.

What’s my opinion?

Tom shouldn’t have done this because it was dishonest. However, it’s small potatoes. I remember watching the video back in 2012 and thinking “pretty weak set, no big deal” and never thinking of it again. It’ll all blow over and we’ll all continue hitting the streets, banging hot girls, and tweaking the model. I’m certainly not going to distance myself from Tom to “protect my reputation”. He’s my friend and I’ve seen with my own eyes that his daygame skills are for real.

Tom is an elite-level daygamer, possibly more skilled than I am. You’re well within your rights to cut him off your “guy to listen to” list after this video expose but if you do so you’ll be missing out.

Balls Deep – Book launch event in London

November 3, 2014
krauserpua

UPDATE: Balls Deep paperback is now on sale here. 408 pages of squalid daygame action and theory.

Even now I chuckle at the name of my new memoir. So, aside from being the satisfying end-state of a successful street pick-up, was else does Balls Deep mean?

Like most men in these parts I read Neil Strauss’s seminal book The Game and was hugely inspired. It seemed so sleazy, so underground and so…. plausible. A secret community of Pick Up Artists who had cracked the code for how a normal man can bang large numbers of hot girls. There were just a few problems:

  • The men were rather abnormal (well, subnormal)
  • There wasn’t much banging going on (I think there are three lay reports in the whole book)
  • The girls weren’t hot (when I finally saw Mystery’s “10” Katya, I was rather underwhelmed)
When I grow up I want to be just like you

When I grow up I want to be just like you

Anyway, luckily for me I didn’t see through the smoke and mirrors until I’d already become a daydream daygame believer. Flaws aside, Neil’s book set me on a path to which I’m eternally grateful to him for. So, The Game was his story and nicely mythologised the 2002-era Los Angeles scene. Ten years later Tom Torero did his version, giving a window into the 2012-era London scene. That’s not as well written as Neil’s but one thing it certainly isn’t lacking is lay reports with large numbers of hot girls.

I want in on that racket.

My books have a reputation for being high-falutin’ and theoretically dense, which is how I like it. However that’s not necessarily what the ravenous crowds want. They want blood, guts… and semen stains. Most readers really connect to two things:

  • Wild stories
  • Pain

Yes, what the punters really relate to is the journey. The endless grind on the streets, shuffling head-down hands in your pockets through driving rain, scanning the streets for a confused-looking tourist with a backpack and Pret sandwich. Then the sporadic victory stories when you manage to hustle her into a pub, get her tipsy and bundle her into a cab for the same day lay. They know the Magic Pill marketing happy talk is bullshit.

There's gotta be some $$$ in this racket

There’s gotta be some $$$ in this racket

Every reader of this blog knows the reality. Sometimes you hit extended periods of joy and exuberance, but usually the pattern is pain-pain-pain-euphoria-pain-pain over and over again. That’s what I wanted to convey in Balls Deep – the reality of getting through your first year or two. The period where you are full of hope and drive, but also lacking the reference experiences and skills to know you’ll get there in the end. Well, I got there in the end. And for me, those first two years were rough. Really, really rough. So I’m going to tell you all about it and walk you through the minutiae of how it feels to begin the daygame journey. And then the victory stories began to trickle through. And after that the true squalor and sleaziness.

As I looked back and wrote Balls Deep I was amazed at myself. Did I really start feeling up that girl’s tits on the street outside Zara three minutes after meeting her? Did I really walk that Russian catwalk model home in an hour? How on earth did I fail to escalate that Georgian dancer with the denium shorts and crop top? More than anything, I’m amazed that no matter how many days I returned home dejected and lead-less, I was back out again to jump back in front of the bus.

Chapter 1

Chapter 18

The Launch
I’m in London this weekend to film my new in-field product Daygame Overkill. Seeing as I’m in town, why not pimp out my new book too? So on Sunday I’ll hire a pub function room and host an early-afternoon launch event. Specifics aren’t confirmed yet but I’ll do a talk and probably get a fellow daygamer to do so too. I’ll have a pile of paperbacks to sell (and sign, should that turn you on). It’ll be informal, with plenty of time to hang out and chat over a beer. Maybe I’ll charge £5 cover, depends if the pub charges for the room.

Balls Deep will be £20. It’s 408 pages of filth, polished to the same standard as Mastery.

Let me know in the comments if you’re interested in (I) attending and (ii) a copy of the book. That’ll help me decide the venue size and how many copies to bring. I’ll announce details later this week.

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