Guest Post: Tom Torero’s 2013 Daygame Stats

January 2, 2014
krauserpua

‘Tis the season to be nerdy. Krauser’s asked me to compile my 2013 stats into some sort of document for a free blog post and reader devouring historic preservation. After his selfless proof-reading of my forthcoming daygame travel book, how could I say no?

Like him, I didn’t keep exact records for number of opens, number of contacts or number of dates. The lays I wrote down and are thus 100% accurate. 2013 was a year of epic travelling for me teaching bootcamps and students in 25 countries and daygaming in 31 cities, from New York to Moscow. I got 30 new lays in total.

I was lucky enough to travel with some solid mates and wings. My travelling compadres included Krauser (in Vilnius, Prague and Belgrade), Jon Matrix, Yad, Sam Django, Dave Diggler and Martin from the daygame.com team.

However, I did very few daygame sessions for myself. A lot of my time on the streets was with students (I taught 28 bootcamps, 64 private students and 2 week-long residentials). As part of the coaching I demoed and got numbers, but the only personal full-on number farming trips I had were with Krauser (Lithuania, Prague), Sam (Sweden, Prague) and Martin (New York). I’m not going to estimate how many girls I opened as I really don’t have a clue, but I know it was much lower than 2012 and 2011 back in London.

I estimate that in addition to the above, I did 25 full days of daygame for myself (with the above wings). Including all the numbers from demos while coaching studentsm, I collected between 280 and 300 contact details. I estimate that I went on around 70 – 80 dates. I did much fewer i-dates than in previous years because for a lot of the interactions I was demoing for students.

New flags captured were: Iran, Portugal, Egypt, Serbia and South Korea.

New lays with flags I’d already got were: Great Britain, Russia, Germany, Italy, USA, Latvia, Lithuania, Ukraine, Czech Republic, Poland, Turkey, Brazil, Spain, Sweden and Finland.

The dating breakdown of the lays was:

SDLs :8

D2 lays: 10

D3+ lays: 12

I’m 34 years old. The oldest girl I slept with this year was a 34 year old MILF in London. The youngest was an 18 year old university student in New York.

Number of girls under 25: 18

Number of girls over 25: 12

The quality of the girls (as testified by my wings) was above average as I pushed myself through a self-imposed ceiling. 2 of the girls were “6s”, 17 were “7s”, 10 were “8s” and 1 was a “9.”

The 9

The 9

Lay highlights included fucking the 21 year old “9” Go-Go dancer from Riga (see above), 3 new girls in 3 days, SDLing a cabin crew assistant from Turkish Airlines and laying the first girl that I approached on my last trip to New York. I also had a MMF with a flatmate.

Memorable failures included near-misses with two different potential foursomes (one with Sam in Prague and one with Krauser in Belgrade). I got punched twice (once by a girl’s husband in a Moscow club and once by a girl’s friend in Istanbul). I lost out on a lay with a “Yes Girl” model in Prague when the hotel I was staying at wouldn’t let her in as a guest.

My plans for 2014 are to open, date and try and close far fewer girls but of a consistently higher quality, pushing for more “9s.” After 150+ lays I’m done with the Notch-Count Hyena. It’s time for the Quality Control Lion. Grand, noble, patient, doing less but catching a tasty meal.

"Good work, my son"

“Good work, my son”

I thought I’d sign-off by answering three predictable chode comments in advance that are often thrown in the direction of Krauser and I:

“You only travel / open / sleep with foreign girls because English girls are harder”

Girls are biologically all the same – if you’re a chode in your home country you’ll be a chode abroad. The real reason we travel / open / sleep with foreign girls is that they’re hotter. Don’t try daygame abroad until you’ve nailed the skillset where you live as it’s harder away from home: you have to act fast as the nomadic lover instead of the provider boyfriend, logistics and time are against you, you have to manage your state (which has an unhealthy focus on outcome through necessity) and you have to deal with the stresses and strains of travel. I’ve slept with many English girls (check out the lay reports in my first book) and daygame / dating works exactly the same.

“Girls sleep with you for your money / passport / accent”

High value girls sleep with high value guys. End of. The “pussy paradise” you’re imagining doesn’t exist, it’s a White Knight fantasy of a place with desperate girls that need rescuing from local guys. If you believe it’s so easy, go and try it. Paying the bar bill in some tittie bar and taking home a hooker in Thailand this is not. In places like the FSU, girls are much harder to daygame than in London. Many countries have cultures and religions where fast dating and quick sex is very rare. You’re trying to achieve in a few days what it takes local guys months or years to achieve. In many ways, western men are lower value than locals in FSU countries because of Feminism and sexual hangups. Go to Serbia and observe the men who you’re going head-to-head with . You’re also competing with the provider chumps offering these girls trips to Dubai or rides in their Ferrari. Remember that Moscow has the most billionaires in the world.

“You spam approach and open thousands of girls to get a date or a lay”

I wish I had the energy to open thousands a year. The more you do daygame, the more lethargic you get. In 2012 and 2013 I also continued to experience “Game revulsion” as I burnt out from all the travelling and teaching. I did a fraction of the opening I did when I was learning Game in 2010 and 2011. Compared to the guys in clubs who I see opening every set as part of their smash-and-grab beasting, or the approach machine robots I see on Oxford Street at Saturday lunchtime, I open like a pensioner on weed.

Happy 2014 to you glorious bastards – onwards and inwards ;)

Tom Torero

My 2013 daygame stats

January 1, 2014
krauserpua

In the new book I write quite a lot about expectations and reality in daygame. It seems only fair that as 2013 draws to a close and I sit in my dressing gown sipping coffee, running a hot bath, I should offer some summary statistics for the year. Most of these numbers rely upon estimates because I didn’t keep notes. Only the final laycount is 100% reliable.

My New Year's Eve

My New Year’s Eve

Opens: I racked my memory to estimate how many days I went out each month and roughly how many sets I did per day then multiplied one by the other. The only months I’m absolutely sure of are February (in Brazil, did almost nothing), April (I actually kept notes that month, I was very active), May, November and December (very little work). The rest is a blur. Most times when I do a “full session” I’ll open 10-15 girls. Some days I do one open, get an idate and then I’m finished. This opens number is accurate to the nearest 300.

Numbers: I tend to get one phone number or social media add for every four girls I talk to. I rarely bother asking if she doesn’t seem keen. So this total is just ¼ of the Opens estimate

Dates: I tend to bang half the girls I get onto a first date, so this is just double the lays number.

Lays: This number is exact. I kept notes and it’s memorable enough that I don’t really need the notes.

Opens: 1,000

Numbers: 250

Dates: 60

iDates: 15

Lays: 27 new girls, 3 repeats from prior years

So that’s one lay per 37 opens. It sounds about right. I think it’s 1 in 20 on holiday and 1 in 50 in London. Now lets categorise the lays.

SDL: 5

SNL: 3

Day 2 lay: 7

Day 3+ lay: 7

Long Game lay: 5

So there’s no particular pattern there. Let’s consider the geographical distribution:

Sex in same country we met: 25

Sex in different country to open: 2 (the two long game lays in neutral country)

And for the Long Game:

Sex where she came back to London: 1

Sex where I went back to her country: 2

Sex where we both went to a neutral country: 2

Now lets get to the ages. I’m 38. The average age of girl I slept with was 25, making a 13-year average age difference. Only one girl didn’t tell me her age, a Brazilian who didn’t speak English. I’d estimate her as mid-twenties. More stats:

Youngest: 20

Oldest: 30

Number of girls under 25: 14

Number of girls over 25: 13

Let’s consider nationalities (not ethnicity). I’d say the Slavs and Balkans were the hottest, averaging 8s. Overall I think twelve of the girls were legit 8s (I feel some pride having them on my arm), four were 6s (not too proud of myself) and the rest were 7s. I’m very strict on what I call a 9 (gobsmacking beauty that turns heads everywhere) and though I dated and made out with a few I never banged any in 2013:

Slavic: 9

Balkan: 4

Western Europe: 4

Anglosphere: 2

Latino: 6

Other: 2

I’ve also racked my brain for near misses. I only count them as a near miss if the girls was totally up for it, had her hand on my dick, I’d had my hand on her pussy, and she’s either agreed to come to my place or we’d been in a sex location. It’s a bit of a muddy definition but every single one of these girls I was certain I was going to fuck and then it fell apart at the last minute:

Near misses: 12

Failure due to LMR at sex location: 6

Failure due to unexpected outside forces: 3

Failure due to logistical errors: 3

I’d say I’m pretty happy with those stats. There’s room for improvement but at the quality I’m tapping, it’s nice to know I only have to open 40 girls to get laid once. That’s basically two or three day’s graft for a new girl and not many dates-to-nowhere.

“I’m so awesome, everyone else is an idiot”

December 27, 2013
krauserpua

The pesky thing about our ego is that it deceives us. Most of the time we can’t see our own ego even though it’s transparent to even mildly-calibrated outside observers. When someone points it out we tend to bristle. This is all very normal. It happens to me despite my efforts to be mindful. Within the daygame world we call it Avoidance Weasel.

The smart move is to process the feedback from reality and then introspect. You needn’t roll over and let others walk over you but if the world keeps telling you an unwelcome message then at some point you need to bunker down and listen to it. I call it percolation. Like coffee dripping through a filter I won’t back down or accept criticism in the moment but it will register and eventually will percolate through and be absorbed.

I sincerely want to be right. That’s not the same thing as winning the argument, or holding the frame.

Ego Kryptonite

Ego Kryptonite

To continue the metaphor, some people’s coffee filter is impermeable. It’s plastic. It’s designed to stop that criticism filtering through. Why is that? The same reason for most weirdness: low self-esteem. Some people don’t want to face up to their deep-rooted feelings of low self-worth. So reality must be rebuffed. This is where the ego becomes very devious.

When you get into Game you develop a vocabulary to parse these ideas. Whether you’ve watched The Blueprint Decoded, Deep Inner Game or Tony Robbins they all give you heuristic devices, jargon and mindsets to achieve long-term conscious control over your mind. I call it reflexivity, the gradual expansion of the realm under your influence. You must master yourself before you master the world. So we can introspect and begin to confront our ego. Perhaps we’re a Northern working class lad who drinks to excess and finds himself in pointless Friday night punch-ups. Some introspection tells us we feel low self-esteem from growing up excluded from The Good Life down South. That’s why we talk with such bravado about football and denigrate Londoners as “soft southerners”, “spivs” and “yuppies”. It’s just externalising and projecting our own low self-esteem – sour grapes.

So then what happens? The ego retreats briefly and, like HeWhoCannotBeNamed, returns in disguised form. Now perhaps we openly talk about how London is a good place full of high achievers…… Then someone tells us we are acting overly superior, that we are now swanning around saying how we’ve “made it” and enjoy looking down on our former comrades up North as being “small-minded” and “parochial”.

All that happened is our ego switched sides.

What was originally a self-important construct to valourise the identity of being a Northerner has morphed into a self-important construct to valourise the identity of being The Lad Who Done Good. The ego still achieves its two main goals:

  1. Build up grandiosity and
  2. Look down on the plebs

I use this example because it’s what happened to me. It’s very common. I’d suggest there’s a circular pattern going on:

Hide low self-esteem with grandiosity armour -> Reality breaks through grandiosity armour -> Develop new grandiosity armour

At no point does the original low self-esteem get addressed. The ego has outwitted conscious attempts to control it by a man who has both the inclination and guidance to try to control it. Self deceit is a powerful adversary. A common Intermediate Player ego trap is:

Original armour: Chode believes in Disney romance, pedestalises women and disparages anyone who would try self-improvement with a “just be yourself” dismissal

Reality: Can’t get laid. It knaws away. Probably a traumatic event (being dumped) forces them to confront the problem and they learn game.

New armour: Relentless approaching, routines, the PUA wizard-hat Super Player persona.

I think we’re all aware of that one so let’s float out some others.

  • A guy grows up as an unathletic meek pushover, ignored by girls and excluded from the Cool Kids parties. After experimenting with alternative subcultures he discovers the gym. He can religiously monitor his diet, enjoy a Calvinist moral rush from the pain of training, and get jacked. He feels big and important and draws lots of looks, many approving. Perhaps he jacks up further on steroids, HGH and TRT to approach hulking proportions. He’s become a little boy in a gorilla suit.
  • A guy is tired of being the soft kid at school. Always watching his mouth and backing down in case he gets into a fight he can’t win. Never able to express himself. So he watches the UFC and figures MMA will solve his problems. Ten years later he’s a BJJ black belt with decent hands. He’s also neck-deep in a new cult with religious training and new community norms to follow. His identity is all about being tough, unlike those “idiot” traditional martial artists or “lazy” cubicle jockeys. Watch The Ultimate Fighter for a glimpse of these types.

At no point do I suggest getting a great physique or learning to fight are a bad idea. Quite the contrary, both are noble pursuits that build value. The problem is leaving your inner game unaddressed. Your ego has just sent you on a wild goose chase and you’re still the same chode with the same low self-esteem. It’s just now you have a new hook upon which to hang your grandiosity. A new intellectual construct to blind you from your own idiocy. And everyone can still see right through you.

How to tell if you’re mired in a new ego trap rather than making real inner game progress?

  • You feel the need to constantly tell everyone how good you are
  • You feel the need to constantly push everyone else beneath you
  • You still bristle at criticism and go off on rants
  • You still need to be the centre of attention and act out when the spotlight moves onto someone else
  • You are a One True Way-er in whatever beliefs are important to you
  • You need to set up a caricatured straw man of The Other to then gleefully tear down to prove to yourself that you aren’t one of those idiots

I don’t exclude myself from consideration from this list. While my inner game is 100x stronger than it was I still have my share of grandiosity moments. The important thing is to recognise Ego Traps and avoid what you can. You cannot address your inner game by papering over the cracks. No matter how elaborately you construct a reality-weave, at some point reality will break through and that will hurt.

“Ego traps occur when you learn to recognize and try to combat one form of ego-driven superiority, only to have the ego reassert itself using sneaky, subtle disguised ways to take over your mind from new angles” – Ricky Raw

In the manosphere there’s alot of external referencing masquerading as internal referencing. There’s plenty of people telling you how high value they are while showing you the opposite. Ironically, they are often precisely the people calling out others for lack of transparency. Don’t fall for it. Look inwards and concentrate on getting your own house in order. You’re into Game to improve your happiness and your results, not to engage in pissing contests with self-aggrandising little boys with big mouths.

Men who have reached self-acceptance are chill, relaxed and non-reactive. They don’t need to tell you how they are better than everyone else.

Daygame Mastery – Edging closer to completion

December 27, 2013
krauserpua

The book is now in its final post-production stage. The layout guy is almost finished, the final art is almost all in, and the text has long since been past a copy editor. Probably I’ll release it mid-January.

If all goes to plan I will do a pre-release launch event in London in early January where fellow daygamers can join me for a meet’n’greet, look through a paper copy of the book, and perhaps I’ll even do a presentation on the new Krauser Daygame Model. Hopefully there’ll be some advance copies available to buy too. We shall see.

I bang my first 29 year old Cornish separatist

December 20, 2013
krauserpua

The internet would have you believe English girls possess sophisticated anti-Game powers that make them impervious to charisma. Anyone who has actually daygamed Europe will quickly tell you English girls aren’t harder, they are just unpleasant. The moment you step out of the Anglosphere it’s like stepping out the Fat Room of a carnival Hall of Mirrors and you realise it’s not you, it’s them. Anglosphere society is broken and most women with it.

Wonder Woman, 2013 version

Wonder Woman, 2013 version

Most human traits follow bell-shaped normal distribution yet different demographics can shift the whole curve left or right (see for example IQ by country). 66% of people are within one standard deviation of the mean. For Euro-girls under thirty that mean is a high 6. For FSU-girls it’s a high 7. For Brits, Yanks, Kiwis, Saffers, Aussies and Paddys it’s a low 5. In a nutshell that’s why it behooves every man to ignore native English-speaking girls. Exercise some cultural and geographical arbitrage to up the quality of the women in your life. I avoid English women. Their voice turns my stomach. Their frumpy ill-coordinated fashion hurts my eyes. They can’t follow a man’s lead and have nothing of interest to say. In general.

Pretend you didn't see this

Pretend you didn’t see this

So when I’m out one Saturday afternoon with Bodi near Buckingham Palace the last thing I’m expecting is to initiate an interaction with an English girl that ends with me fucking her a few days later. My vibe is still flat so when I see a Brazilian girl that’s a bit chubby for my taste but otherwise screaming to be opened I let Bodi have her. As he wanders off on an idate I hang around looking for targets. Amongst the trees outside St James Park I see a French-looking girl alone, inspecting a plaque of the local wildlife. Sorted. I open.

Incredibly she’s English. From Cornwall. I rapidly calculate that’s as far from (literally and culturally) London as a Brit can be and it shows in her vibe. She’s chatty, pleasant and (for a Brit) reasonably feminine. The set takes on that weird non-polarity English girls have where it’s chatty and fast-paced but there’s no crackle of man-woman vibe. She likes me. A Yes Girl. Text game progresses easily and I get her out a few days later…..

Me: So this is the chatty Cornish separatist :)
Her: Chatty? I could hardly get a word in!
Me: How memory deceives us….
Me: [next day] I’m sitting in a cafe with hot coffee and enthralling book :) how are you?
Her: Sounds lovely. I’ve just had a very uninspiring Christmas lunch. Think I get to leave work early though, woo hoo!
Me: Works lunch? I get restless at those
Her: Desperate to leave! xxx
Me: Steal the mince pies and sell them to tramps
Her: I’m free! Nice plans this eve?
Me: None at all. Maybe exercise and video games
Me: Hang on… you’re cadging a date invitation aren’t you…. how smooth you move young lady :D
Her: It may sound like that but actually I’m not free. You are very slow with your invites though. Where’s my cup of tea?
Me: Brewing
Her: Very good. I need to work on my patience!
Me: I approve

I’m really not much interested because I thought she’s a mid-6 and didn’t even have make-up on when I opened. She’s new in town and doesn’t know anyone. As 3pm rolls around my eyes wander to the darkening skies and bitter wind. I’m seriously thinking of flaking on her. Don’t care for new notches this year. I’ve had my fill. I want to go home and finish Operation Flashpoint Red River.

But no makeup a,nd unwashed hair

But no makeup and unwashed hair

But I’ve literally just finished drawing my Krauser Daygame Model flowchart for the book. Wouldn’t this be a great chance to run the model exactly as written in the model, step-by-step, with no variations. I could voice record it all and who knows, if I bang her on Day 2 it’s a full uninterrupted audio of the model *. Maybe I’ll meet her afterall. So I’m decided.

6pm in front of Top Shop on Friday evening and I walk her to a nearby tea shop. She’s hotter than I remember – a respectable seven but being English she’s still not wearing makeup and she came straight from uni with a hiking jacket, ill-fitting jeans and unwashed hair. It reminds me of one of my Serbs telling me about a day she visited her grandmother without putting on her makeup first (“How dare you come here looking like that?” Granny says, “Have some self respect, girl”).  Enroute to Venue Zero,  I actually say exactly the same dialogue examples as in my book. Over tea I follow the body language advice exactly. I bring up the same topics. I precisely monitor the energy levels per by model prediction. It’s literally textbook game. She loves it.

Being English she’s already derailing it, talking total gibberish that would quickly kill the vibe if I didn’t haul her back on track. She likes me, she just doesn’t know how to be attractively feminine – being English and all. Venue One passes the test so I walk her on to Venue Two for a bright alcoholic drink. I run the twin escalation ladders (verbal and physical) in precise order and get my amber lights. So I move her to Venue Three at a dark blues bar to run the Questions Game and go for the kiss.

Textbook. She even refused the kiss twice to allow me to do my little Recovery Loop and keep moving forwards.

The questions game starts to break the fourth wall. She’s really loving it and starting to share such as her fantasy to have two men at once, how she just got out of a long long relationship, hasn’t had sex in three months and hasn’t had good sex in over a year. She masturbated last night to the fantasy of an investment banker she’s messaged on Match.com but hasn’t even met. She’s gagging for it. Sexual and Ambient Logistics are perfect.

As we walk out up Regent Street I’m looking to flag a cab. Her next question is:

“What do you think the odds are we have sex tonight?”

Of course my first thought is they just rose dramatically. I reply.

Me: On my side it’s 100%. I’m attracted to you, I like how we got on tonight, so I want to take you home and fuck you. On your side I think it’s 70%. You want sex and you think I’m probably the right man right now but you have a few reservations. Probably you think it’s a bit fast and you are concerned about adding to your Number.

Her: No, I don’t mind the number. I was in a very long relationship. And yes, I’m very horny these days. I fancy you but I think you’re a bit of a wanker

Me: Only a bit? Well, you’re a bit of a hippy. When the revolution comes we’ll be on opposite sides of the barricades

Her: I like that

Me: Yes. Forbidden fruit is the sweetest

A cab arrives and I push her in, saying she hasn’t agreed to anything so I won’t hold her to anything. Just a drink at my place and see how we feel. Back at my place I run the Venue Four bedroom escalation model. It’s still textbook. Five minutes after sitting down she can’t hold back and jumps me, initiating the kiss. Her clothes falls to the floor in seconds and she’s on her knees sucking me off. Her body is a nice surprise – firm, flat stomach, vibrant tight skin – country living and hiking has kept her looking young. I take her next door to get the notch and that’s it.

English girls are not harder. Just different.

* My phone runs out of battery midway through Venue Two.

Celibacy Clubs

December 18, 2013
krauserpua

Allow me to offer a guest post from fellow daygamer and wing Bodi on a topic I’ve never heard discussed in the manosphere…..

Have you ever been in a crowded bar, a social place, full of noise and crammed with men and women all there with the express purpose of meeting each other yet observed a pair of girls, perhaps sitting at a small table, intensely locked in conversation with each other in their own little bubble. Perhaps you even opened them and were told briskly “they are not there to meet men”.

No dick

No dick

Have you ever known a girl, in her late twenties and single, who starts to get more into her career. Perhaps she starts ‘working all hours’. She may get a dog and/or even move out of the city into a small town. ‘It’s the only place I can afford the mortgage!’ she’ll say. She’ll get into baking.

No dick here either

No dick here either

Perhaps you knew a girl who didn’t go to bars and didn’t get into her career, but she had a very close group of female friends and they did everything together, organizing character building activities each weekend and staying in close contact over social media. Most of them were single. They all went to Ascot and got tipsy on Champagne.

Or maybe you were out walking one day and noticed a girl wandering on her own through the park, dressed a little alternatively and taking endless same-ey photographs with a huge SLR camera. Maybe you even thought it was a perfect daygame set and opened her, to be shocked at how disinterested, flat and drained she seemed.

Congratulations, you have encountered a phenomena increasingly common in the feminist women’s desperate attempts to ruin their own lives: the Celibacy Club. The common Celibacy Club is where a group of women (we’ll address the Solo variant later) form an intense dynamic the essence of which is to ensure the ongoing celibacy of each member. They trade their own likelihood of success in acquiring a mate for ensuring the other member’s celibacy. On a very simple level you’ve seen this behaviour before with generic nightgame cockblocking where girls will prevent friends from getting theirs if they’ve not had their own, or will even just cockblock out of spite for the sake of it. A Celibacy Club is a level beyond this, it’s less ephemeral and the natural urge to cockblock metastatizes into an all encompassing subtle mechanism of group social control where member accepts celibacy as a fair price for ensuring their rival’s celibacy too.

Celibacy Clubs are dysfunctional herds. Think of ‘The Claw’ in Toy Story.

A metaphor, yesterday

A metaphor, yesterday

A bunch of tiny aliens live in one of those grabber machines. They are all identical. They are weirdly culty and wait in anticipation until The Claw drops one day and picks one of them, carrying them up and away to a better place. The lucky alien, The Chosen, will beam blissfuly as he is lifted up and say “Farewell friends, I am off to a better place” as his comrades all coo in rapture at the spiritual event.

Pre-date

Pre-date

This is a woman’s life: they bumble along together in little groups, like herds of zebras, waiting for the lucky day that a lion stalks alongside and pulls one of them away into his own life and reality. The problem with Celibacy Clubs is they derail this prime directive: a Celibacy Club would be the crabs-in-a-barrel phenomena whereby The Claw drops so all the other little aliens jealousy hold down anyone lucky enough to get clawed, thus preventing them being spirited away. The end result: nobody gets Clawed.

How would you recognize a Celibacy Club in action? Here are some tell-tale signs:

    • Lack of dick. Lots of talk; not much dick. Most members (lol) are single and continue to be so.
    • Subtle attempts to prevent each other from putting themselves in any situation where men could approach them. In a social place the intenso-bubble will form. The group will generally waste enormous amounts of time attempting to schedule activities, then all constantly reschedule and flake on each other. The end result: spending time at home with a box-set.
    • High levels of social control: lots of contact through social media
    • Subtle attempts to joint lower their SMV: group piggery in restaurants, excessive alcohol consumption, gradually lowering standards of dress and deportment, encouraging other members to pig out or not diet
    • Group shaming of members trying to break away
    • Outright cockblocking

 Let’s look at some examples of such clubs, all real examples that I have encountered:

  • Amanda, age 38 and feeling it. Gradually increases her working hours to help her ignore the fact her flat is cold and empty. Meets mid 40′s agressive, loud, wealthy career saleswoman. They ‘really hit if off’ and then every other weekend is a trip away involving lots of champagne and huge dinners. The older woman ‘really supports her’ and often perks her up by telling her ‘no man is good enough for her anyway’.
  • Kate, age 30 and single. Every Friday night it’s drinks after work with a couple of the girls from work. It usually begins in the office with a bottle of wine and vague jokes about ‘getting chatted up’, but ends up in the corner of a pub in an intenso-huddle over a table and more wine, with orbiting males quickly repelled by the group force-field.
  • Michelle, age 25, moves to London and doesn’t know anybody. She joins a Swing dancing club ‘to socialize’ and even admits she’d like to meet men. The other girls there are very friendly and she swaps numbers, gradually getting to know them. Pretty soon they are helping each other pick appropriate fashions, travelling to dances together and forming an intenso-bubble of femininity at the crucial socialization times before and after the dance classes. She never quite meets a man. None of them do.
  • Clare, 28, moves to London and doesn’t know anybody. She joins a choir and sings and plays violin. She thinks it works but doesn’t understand the implications when all her new friends are 35 year old, thick set and terribly posh home-counties girls, living off daddies money in their own little apartments in good areas of London. She starts socializing, but it’s all dinner parties and drinks in nice, quiet restaurants in the suburbs. Weekends fill with choir practice and coffees in pleasant cafes by the park. In other words: a total absence of dick.

Why are Celibacy Clubs so initially tempting? Because of two things: firstly, the immediate throat-slitting joy of enforcing celibacy on other members. Second because it facilitates avoidance, and girls love avoidance. Girls all want to feel like they have unlimited time and unlimited options. It’s hard to believe this if you sit in your flat every Friday night on your own watching ER on DVD and crying into a bottle of wine and a cheescake. Fill your life with noise and the signal gets harder to pick up, and let’s not forget what we all learned when little: the thing that makes misfortune easier to deal with is having others have to deal with it as well. Remember, men’s self-help is self-development, women’s self-help is is self-acceptance.

After the initial two-pronged ego gratification of joining a Celibacy Club membership rapidly becomes quite stifling. Despite all the intenso-bonding a girl’s hindbrain will be screaming at her that her vagina remains continually unfilled. It starts to feel wrong and the gnawing sensation of avoidance becomes harder and harder to ignore. A Celibacy Club is a prison, a prison whose walls are held up by women’s adherence to The Female Groupthink and their intrinsic fear of non-conformance.

Smiling in hell

Smiling in hell

Eventually a girl in a Celibacy Club will begin to realize she ensuring her friends celibacy is not enough, and will try to break out of the club herself. She will try to pull away and sneak off and acquire herself a man, well aware that should she be caught by the Borg-mind she is part of she will endure their wrath. At the simplest level you have the classic scenario of a girl “losing her friends in a club”. Believe me my friends, if you’re ever in a club and you run across a girl who has ‘lost her friends’, STRIKE! Beyond this you get intermediate measures such as giving up or radically changing hobbies, increasing workload or time spent with families to avoid certain hobbies or obligations and at the highest level you quite often see girls make radical life changes: like changing career, going back to University or moving city or country. It’s not easy though…and mull over this if you want a glimpse into horror: the reason girls go the toilet together in clubs is not to gossip, but so they don’t want to leave each other alone for even one single minute.

 In the next part: Solo Celibacy Clubs and why you should smash them

This is what a Maybe Girl sounds like

December 16, 2013
krauserpua

It’s pretty important to calibrate the girls you talk to. Roughly speaking you have Yes Girls who are available and into you and thus simply need to be shuttled along without fucking up. There’s No Girls who are unavailable or not into you. You have to spot them and then gracefully depart before wasting any more of your time.

The interesting ones are the Maybe Girls. They are mildly attracted to you and might be available. They’ll let you chat them up and see how their own emotions direct them. Tight game and a little luck will get them but it’s still a roll of the dice. So how do you recognise a Maybe Girl?

  • They stop and listen to you but make you work for hook point
  • They’ll give back in the conversation but are not overly enthusiastic or verbose
  • They’ll follow your lead after a few push-backs
  • All the lights will be Amber

This is where the real game is played. It takes little skill to move along a Yes Girl because they’ll pick up the ball any time you drop it and constantly give you state-pumping happy vibes. Maybe Girls require skill and finese.

So here’s an example. She’s a 21 year old Latvian blonde. Listen with an eye for how to calibrate her.

You’ll note my game doesn’t shift out of second gear. Sunday was dreary, rainy and I couldn’t quite find my vibe. Perhaps fucking that new girl on Friday took away my conviction and intent. So I was feeling pretty chill and stateless. I just run the model and grind the set out. Perhaps a 6/10 for technique. She’s been responding well to the texting.

* I’m quite happy to hear reader analysis on this set. Don’t be shy. There was more going on than I noted in the subtitles.

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