My spy-cam is a go!

March 30, 2010

I’ve been buying all kinds of James Bond shit on ebay lately. On Saturday morning a clip-on cam drops through my letter box while Suave and Wisdom come round for some House of the Dead Overkill action. And yes, I have the Hand Cannon and a pump action shotgun. Who needs girls when you have Sega.

"What does a man have to do to pacify a bitch?"

That day is a washout but on Sunday me and Suave are back on the prowl. I only do a few sets. There’s three that don’t hook and then I get some decent play from a Singaporean air hostess and right after that a Georgian dancer. Both nice girls. The hostess takes a while to soften up but I plough and she starts smiling and investing. The Georgian is into the conversation from the beginning.

Dating the Taiwanese hairdresser

March 30, 2010

I did two dates in a row this week. The day before my second date with the black girl, I was out dating my new Taiwanese acquisition. It started in Covent Garden on the sunday afternoon, like it usually does. Suave and I are playing with the video camera when I see a cute little pixie girl walking past with a sad expression. She stops to look at a street vendor’s cart and I go over. I use the “three-finger turn” to get her attention then open:

Krauser: Hey. I was over there with my friend when you walked past and caught my eye. I decided to come talk to you and as I walked over I tried thinking of something really cool and impressive to say. But my mind is blank.

That did the trick. She laughed, introduced herself and away I go. Most memorable bit was when she said she was a hairdresser and I teased her on her haircut. That’s the bit where I’m circling her and examining her on this video  [warning: some commercial branding]

We get interrupted by the vendor when she overhears me seeding the instantdate at a nearby retro sweet shop. She asks us if we know some other shop and gives directions. I take the cue and lead the way. I don’t realise at this point but Suave is following me with the camera (I thought he’d gone off to his 3pm date). Finally coming out the sweet shop I see him locked in at a lampost so I stop my girl in front of him for a better camera angle.

I lead her off to a nearby Caffe Nero and get into the business of DHVing, taking her Facebook and so on. Suave shows up with his new girl soon after so we double date.

Not had a "throwabout" for a while

A few days later I pull the girl out onto a Day 2 with these texts:

Krauser: HB Pixie. We’re gonna have that milkshake. What’s your favourite flavour
HB Pixie: I would like to have chocolate under, strawberry in the middle and valala on top please. When?
Krauser: Tonight or Thursday. You pick.
HB Pixie: Emmm, I finish work at 9pm, would be too late I think, and I am not available until Monday. What then?
Krauser: Depends where you work. I was thinking 8pm, but 9 is ok if you’re close
HB Pixie: I’m far, I’m [zone 4]
Krauser: How long does it take to Central London? Can’t do milkshake that late but there’s a great retro members club that’s open late. Very 1930s jazz and art deco.
HB Pixie: Sounds fab, but take me about 35 mins get to the [station], if I can be there 10, too late no?
Krauser: 10pm is fine HB Pixie. We’ll have a couple of hours in London’s most relaxing bar. So the next question is – are you impulsive (tonight) or methodical (thursday)
HB Pixie: Tonight would be better, do you mind that I have leave at 12:00 because of last train?

Date goes well but she says a few biographical details that make me screen her out. It’s a shame, because she’s kinda cute. She also recognises me as a “player” within ten minutes. I just reframe:

Krauser: I’m not sure I get you. Do you mean [indicates left hand] I’m a guy who is successful with lots of women or [indicates with right] I’ve made a lifestyle decision to surround myself with pretty girls?
HB Pixie: I’m not sure which. I’ll think about it.

First date with the new black chick

March 30, 2010

This was a spur of the moment street pickup and then after some Facebook teasing I got her out to an entourage night – though due to a mix up she couldn’t get in. As a general rule I don’t apologise to women because being the bloodsucking harpies that they are, the typical woman will treat your first apology as an open sore to be picked and scraped until it’s a large festering wound. My calibration told me otherwise in this case – I had, after all, persuaded her to get all dressed up, to bring a friend, and then she’d been standing outside in the cold unable to get into the club. So I apologised on FB chat but made sure not to beg forgiveness. My reframe went like this:

Krauser: I’m so sorry. I just checked my messages and realised you’d called on Thursday
HB Black: [immediate response]. Yes. We were really cold.
Krauser: I couldn’t get any reception downstairs. If I’d known you were there I would’ve come out to get you.
HB Black: It was awful. We talked to the doormen but they didn’t have a Krauser on the guest list.
Krauser: Yeah, we were there on [model girl]’s list.
HB Black: I didn’t know that.
Krauser: Look, I feel like I’ve been a prize arsehole. I’m thinking of how to make it up to you.
HB Black: I am thinking.
Krauser: OK, I’ve got a plan. I’ll take you out for milkshake. I know the best milkshake bar in London. Proper stuff from ice cream and served in big metal flasks. It’s like warping back to the 1950s.
HB Black: Sounds nice 🙂

So we meet outside a bar in Oxford Circus and I immediately bounce her to the milkshake place, walking arm in arm to begin the kino. She’s done herself up very nice in an understate non-slutty manner. We sit across the table in a booth.

Deceptively big funbags

The conversation goes well and she’s actively contributing to it and asking me lots of questions so I’m thinking she’s screening hard for a potential LTR. I have decided to put on a relaxed nice-guy alpha pose (rather than, say, douchebag game) because she seems quite educated and most of what she says has the subtext of “I’m not a ghetto whore”. I heard educated black chicks have a real chip on their shoulder about their slutty sistas but it’s the first time I’ve seen it.

I bounce her to my favourite members bar and we have soft leather sofa chairs in the upstairs lounge. It’s quite busy so we can’t choose seats – I’d have gone for side by side on the sofa – so kino would be awkward. To compensate for lack of touching I work more on strong eye contact, soft slow voice tone and an alpha slouch. She comments favourably several times on how relaxed (and relaxing) I am. She’s qualifying to me a lot but subconsciously. It’s clear that in her forebrain she thinks she’s controlling the frame but I can see the IOIs and her emotional engagement beginning.

My calibration tells me this is a slow burner. She’s so determined not to look like a ghetto whore that I think fast escalation would provoke defensive reactions. I lean more towards the intellectual side that usual and I rely on NLP routines to build some heat. It’s going well and I progress to handholding towards the end when I lead her around the venue and then walk her out. She’s meeting friends later (after midnight) so I get her to wait with me for my late night bus. I want to pull her in as we wait but it’s not quite there and forcing it feels wrong. Already the look in her eyes is the classic forebrain/hindbrain conflict where her rationalisation hamster is saying “slow down” but the pussy tingle is saying “let’s get it on!”

I continue on the next day (Sunday) with texts

Krauser [12:29pm]: Mornin’. I hope you found your friends ok
HB Black [3:00pm]: Hi Krauser, I did find my friends thanks, we had a good night. Hope your enjoying to sunshine.
Krauser [Monday 8:45pm]: I’m keen on Japanese next. Can you handle sashimi and agedashidofu?
HB Black [9:51pm]: Imm… is this your way of asking me out on a real date Krauser?
Krauser [10:16pm]: So what’s the technical term for Saturday?
HB Black [10:39pm]: Well for me Krauser it was very different to what I call a date. I guess I saw Saturday as two people meeting properly getting equated on friend level. Hand holding happened at the end, but its not something I normally agree to do! And your views r?
Krauser [10:44pm]: Then let’s get acquainted more on a date. How is Wednesday for you?
HB Black [11:14pm]: I tell you what Krauser lets get acquainted over a drink as friends and I will tell you if you have made it to the next round (date).
Krauser [11:21pm] I do drinks. I don’t do auditions.
HB Black [11:38pm]: Darling, you’ve already auditioned last week. And this week is your second audition, I’ll let u know if u get the part lol Wednesday will be fine. What time? 🙂
Krauser [Tuesday 10:15am]: I reckon 8pm. Central London. Good for you?
HB Black [4:54pm]: 8pm sounds good. How about outside [venue]?
Krauser [7:11pm]. Ok

Fuck me that was hard work. See how she’s trying to control the frame with her as the prize and me presenting myself for her approval. Fuck that. My instinctive reply to her 11:14pm text was “Nah, I don’t do auditions” so I typed that in but left it for five minutes while I had a piss and then decided she needed more velvet over the steel. As a general rule I’d recommend this text game strategy:

Always type your instinctive reply to a text message immediately, but don’t send it. Allow you’re rational mind to mull over that instinct. The message you do send will be 80% instinctive and 20% refined by strategic thinking.

As you become alpha, your instincts are usually to be trusted. They’ve kept millions of generations of your genese alive after all. An instinctive text is a pure authentic response and usually vibrates with the bottled power of your character. In contrast, I long thought-out text is stale and usually “gamey”. My strategy straddles both.

The second date approaches. I’m standing outside Angus Steak in Leicester Square and she texts to say she’ll be ten minutes late so I open a young French girl who is reading a book next to me. Very cute. I tease a bit and get her Facebook, then I see my date approaching so I wait till she sees us then say goodbye to Frenchie. We go to a nearby pub.

The vibe this time is really playful. I’m teasing and negging the shit out fo her and before long the educated pretense drops and she’s giving it the head roll, finger circle and “whateva” ghetto talk – and hating that I can rile her up into doing it. It’s lots of fun. We have a few drinks, then it’s done. I’ll probably see her again.

We are giving dynamite to children

March 17, 2010

The pick-up community is all about getting laid. Sure there’s various adjuncts and build-outs which go into lifestyle design, alpha mentality, self improvement and whatnot but at it’s core they are teaching guys to get laid regularly.

Be careful what you wish for.

Seduction students are adversely selected for the simple reason that guys who are already swimming in the pool of luxury pussy do not shell out £800 for a bootcamp. We get guys who have a problem to fix. Sometimes they are like me: pretty experienced with women but suffering from a serious setback and taking it as the trigger to fix all the other issues I’d never addressed because I’d had girls. Others are a more serious proposition: nerds and virgins who have shitty social skills and have always been like the poor kid with his face pressed up against the sweet shop window but never allowed in to eat. The easiest students are the young guys who are doing kind of okay with women but have set themselves loftier goals.

Generally, we are getting students who are seriously vulnerable to the predations of women. Like a dog who chases a car down the street and then doesn’t know what to do when it catches up, like the fool who grabs a tiger by the tail, we in the seduction community are teaching guys to walk into a trap. What trap?

  • False paternity claims and ensuing child support that will cripple them financially
  • Emotional abuse from passive aggressive bitches who try to destroy your self esteem and your faith in humanity
  • STDs, some of which can ruin your fertility or harm your future wife
  • False rape claims that will see your reputation ruined, your career ended, and likely a long stint in jail just because some whore gets buyers remorse

Now I’m not going into the topic of whether the PUA life is a shallow one. That’s an oversold meme and I care little for it. I’m talking about this:

By encouraging naïve men to sleep with many women, we are exposing them to risks they don’t even know exist.

We are handing dynamite to children. I think the seduction community needs to take responsibility and teach the other half of the picture. The other half isn’t mere “LTR game”, it’s about grounding our students in the realities of the sexual marketplace and the realities of a misandric society. But is anyone going to do that? Guys like Roissy or Ferdinand Bardamu – yes. But actual commercial “I’ll teach you to bang supermodels for $1999” outfits. Ahem.

Beer companies don’t advertise hangovers any more than tobacco companies advertise cancer. We aren’t likely to see pickup companies take responsibility for this. They’d much rather take the money, hand the guy his machete and push him into the jungle.

This isn’t because pick up instructors are evil geniuses. They are blind to the risks. Really, how many guys are out there who have (i) legit game (ii) manosphere social awareness and (iii) chosen the instructor lifestyle.  A handful? If that.

Most pick up instructors I’ve met do not have life experience with women and they lack the sociological imagination. For the most part they actively reject the manosphere because “it’s not a positive frame, dude”. Many of them are, intellectually, little boys in peacocking costumes. They’ve done 2,000 approaches, they’ve fucked a fistful of hot girls, they really do have legit teachable pick up skills. But they are also usually under thirty years old, focused entirely on small-scale social dynamics, and by flitting from lay to lay they’ve never really lived with women and gone through the date-love-marriage-beta-divorce cycle.

Lots of technical knowledge. Not much wisdom.

So here’s my blueprint for teaching Game so the students get laid but don’t get raped:

  • Learn to recognise damaged women in sets and tread very carefully;
  • If your spider sense is tingling, eject. Do not let that woman into your life;
  • Be as anonymous as you can. Number close on a pre-pay phone if necessary;
  • Get video evidence whenever you can. Failing that, audio. Keep a recorder near your bed and start it recording before you dip your wick;
  • If you are getting LMR, you must have the episode recorded;
  • Always use your own condoms and flush them personally;

I’d appreciate more ideas. I intend to include this in what I teach.

“You make a great tree” Part Two

March 17, 2010

Wednesday night and I meet Wisdom and Suave near Piccadilly in an old school pub. Elvis is on the jukebox and the floor is packed with various strains of office beta unwinding with a flaggon of ale. We get a quiet table in the corner with battered leather sofas. We just know it’s going to be a fun night. We are a tight crew with unified goals and mutual respect.

My first entourage member shows up alone, the fashion store Aussie girl I sarged a week or so earlier. She’s tall, leggy and likes to banter. We meet outside and as I lead her through the throng she slipstreams behind me, grabbing my arm with some early kino. She’s soon at ease with these three new guys and my wings give off subtle DHVs in their deferential manner towards me. We head on to the club.

Inside it’s a classic guest-list only deal – not a single fattie. I quickly estimate about 50% of the girls to be HB7s or better and even the dregs are still passable. A throng of male model clones sit at one VIP table, an assortment of fashion insider men at another. Lots of party girls are flitting to and fro, some in the classic Essex-girl warpaint and fake tits. Wisdom goes off to find his girl.

A few free drinks later and I’m working awkward kino with my target. I say awkward because she’s into the kino and allowing some escalation but I can’t quite pull the trigger. My calibration is telling me that she’s not comfortable kissing in front of everyone here. Nonetheless she’s qualifying to me by trying to tell interesting stories (they aren’t – just Western girl stories about drinking and vomiting) and is easily isolated. I notice that throughout the night she stays within my protective orbit and shakes off the attentions of other men.

One hour in my two Koreans show up while I’m still in isolation with the Aussie. Not-quite coincidently Suave and Wisdom pick them out the crowd, get them comp drinks and put them at ease – DHVing me until I walk back with the Aussie on my arm. I’m thinking she’s fantastic social proof for a club because of her height, slim frame, and striking features. Her flaws are things you’d only notice in daylight (slightly worn skin) or in conversation (typical Aussie empowered woman bullshit masking a feminine heart). I then begin some mild jealousy plotlines.

I lead the Koreans for a while and we’re soon on the dancefloor with me picking them up and throwing them around, inducing much giggling. For ten minutes I’ll be with them then just walk off and engage the Aussie, then back again. It’s hitting – you can see the girls bristle with competition. Wisdom is working the room because when the club photographer snaps us, Wisdom befriends him and takes him round the club opening sets – thus DHVing as a socialite leader and also getting himself a ton of photos with hot girls. We spend time at the host’s table drinking her champagne and I’m feeling in good state.

I see two pretty Indian chicks dancing by the bar, looking around. Clearly attention seeking but they have a nice vibe. I’m in such good state that I open without any game:

Krauser: Hi. I’m Krauser

HB6: Hi.

HB8: Hi.

Krauser: Are you girls here with [host] too?

That’s all it takes. They’ve seen me at the host’s table, and with three different girls so the preselection and social proof is strong. Suave comes in to wing but I forget to indicate my target until five minutes in but upon doing do (I say to him “I’ll have to show you my new t-shirt” while I put my hand on the target’s shoulder) he engages the obstacle and pulls her away to give me isolation.

HB8 Indian is lovely. She’s qualifying like crazy from the beginning, leaning in, trying to impress. I’m sitting back on a stool and every now and then I say “Come closer, I can’t hear you” and pull her in with both hands on her hips. She comes closer. I start fooling with her. Describing my Christmas up in the North, I’m painting a picture of the snowy hills and the crackling log fire:

Krauser: You can imagine the view from the top of the hill, looking down over the valley and the forest. All covered with a blanket of soft white snow

HB8: *coos appreciatively*

Krauser: You know how trees are when the snow lies? C’mon on – stand there. Arms out. OK, you be the tree.

HB8: *giggles, stands in front of me with arms out wide*

Krauser: The snow rests on the top *touches her head* and then as you work your way down *drags fingers down her neck, shoulders and along arms to the tips* the snow is resting on the branches but you can see the green leaves underneath

HB8: *giggling*

Krauser: No, your arms are too horizontal. This is a fir tree. Put them down a bit.

HB8: *more giggling and adjusts arms*

Later she’s talking about how as a little girl she used to make costumes for her Barbie dolls.

Krauser: I’ll bet you played out romantic scenes with them.

HB8: nooooooo!

Krauser: I can see it now. You’ll have Barbie here, in your silly costume *indicates doll* and then you’ll have the Ken doll *indicates second doll in conversation with first*

HB8: *laughing, knows I’ve busted her*

Krauser: So you’ll act out the scene. You’ll imagine the guy doll is this really cool good looking man of your dreams. We’ll call him Krauser. And Barbie we’ll call HB8

HB8: *laughing*

Krauser: Then you’ll be all *stupid voice* “Oh Krauser, this is so romantic” and then “Yes, HB8, you are beautiful, like a princess”

After number closing and setting up a day 2 I run a childhood DHV story involving the old Masters of the Universe action figures. As I’m explaining the power punch feature I have her standing up pretending to be Skeletor as I adjust her arms, spin her upper body and make her snap back with the power punch.

The two black girls don’t show, or so I think. Four days later I’m checking my messages and I have two voicemails from her along the lines of “We’re outside but can’t get in. Can you come get us”

Oops. I see her on Facebook chat and apologise. I’ve projected enough douchebag already so I need to soften her up. She soon starts putting smileys in the chat and we arrange to have milkshakes later in the week.

I announce to all that I am unplugging from the matrix

March 16, 2010

 “Intermediate Game is worth $2 million in the bank.”

I have begun a process of re-ordering my affairs so I can live the life that makes me happy, rather than the one that society expects of me. There is only one person in the whole of this world who has my personal wellbeing as their single over-riding objective. That’s me.


Over the past ten years I’ve been willing to take ballsy decisions to live how I want. I studied a degree I liked purely because I liked it then gutted out my professional qualification period in London before quitting on the first available day to live on a tropical island for a year. I spent three years doing an essentially part-time job so I could enjoy living in Tokyo and pursue my kickboxing and writing. Life was good back then. Liberated, satisfied, always cheerful. Only when I became serious about marriage did I plug back into the matrix: full time career, accumulate savings, be respectable.

I bought into the picket-fence image of respectability. I really wanted a good wife, a nice house, clean linen, two kids, and to be a pillar of the community. I really did. No more. I simply don’t want that – it was a trained response inculcated into me over thirty years of socialisation. Feminism destroyed it.

This is what I want. It’s the Krauser Manifesto.

  1. My free time is my own. I want as much of it as possible.
  2. My money is my own. No person or organisation has any claim to it.
  3. I will pursue those things that interest me, and those alone.
  4. I will allow no-one to bleed value from me.
  5. I will feel pride in living the manifesto. No person can shame me for it.

So what does this mean? How can it be operationally defined? This is what I plan to do as I make my first leap:

Starve the beast

I will reduce my work week from five days / 45 hours to three days / 24 hours. This gives me four days a week to live my life. Time is my most precious resource and I’ll never be granted more than this one life. I’ve calculated I need to work about 1.5 days to cover my bills as they currently stand, another half day to buy beer and entertainment. The third day is to continue to accrue savings. We are truly a blessed cohort of human history that beta male civilisation has engineered so much capital accumulation that three days of moderate labour provides for all material needs.

An added benefit of my partial-John Galt is to minimise my financial support to the state complex that lives parasitically from the value I create, the femo-marxist beast that steals what I earned with the sweat from my brow and funnels it to a horde of mooching and looting enemies – the public sector layabouts, Diversity Outreach Coordinators, civil servants, welfare queens etc.

As a strong, resourceful, self-concerned man I don’t need much money. I’d live in a tent if I could keep the Playstation 3 dry. Modern society has become a sophisticated mechanism for putting straight white men to work and then transferring the wealth they create to everyone else who is not straight white and male. I’m withdrawing as much of that economic surplus as I can without compromising my own quality of life. It’s going Galt – one step at a time.

Against Cultural Marxism

The carrot and stick that keeps law-abiding tax-paying men in line cannot control me. I do not want a promotion. I do not want a Ferrari. I do not want membership to an exclusive golf club.

I do not seek the approval of my neighbours, nor the quasi-approval of the opinion leaders in the media. I am deaf to the shaming of the office feminists and unmoved by the veiled contempt of the manginas who worship them. While I remain fervently pro-capitalist, I do not care to accumulate the accoutrements of a consumer society except where they please me.

I will submit to only those negative sanctions to which society will not permit me to escape. Thus I’ll still have to pay taxes, I’ll still have to turn up to work at 9am, and I’ll still refrain from kicking feminists in the cunt when there are witnesses around. What I will not do is cooperate in society’s soft oppression because I refuse to weave the ropes that bind me.

 What does this mean in my day to day life?

  • I don’t fear unemployment and thus the ultimate threat a company can hold over me. Through a careful understanding of global economics and a sound frugal lifestyle, I have amassed sufficient cash that I can easily live the next ten years without earning a penny more. It’s not an extravagant sum but I have no extravagant tastes. My boss holds no sway over me – there is no mortgage payment to meet, no wife to keep. Thus I will work the way I want as a free individual. I think my professional standards are high enough to keep the boss happy, but if not we simply go our separate ways.
  • No work stress. I don’t identify with my job. An unreasonable deadline will not be met. An unreasonably early business flight will not be caught. Office politics will pass me by. I seek to impress no-one but my inner alpha.
  • I’ll confront misandry and cultural Marxism everywhere I find it. If some femtard in the bar / café / office pulls out an offensively misandrist comment I’ll identify it as such and challenge them. The pussy cartel doesn’t scare me and their typical levers of power don’t move me.
  • I won’t be frittering away my cash on nonsense and status goods. Initially I’ll have to downshift to keep costs down but I’ll soon learn where to pick up value.

Oh yeah, I’m going to actively seek out feminists and ruin their day. These people are the enemy of all I hold dear about Western civilisation and a personal enemy to me. I feel liberated from all social censure. The only limits on my behaviour are those that I set myself, to live by my own code.

Don’t get me wrong – I am not an egoist. I do not wish to become a cunt. Quite the opposite – I seek to strip away the rotten façade of social nicety that one must adopt to glide smoothly through the matrix. I seek authenticity.

This is how I envision my life five years from now

This is still a work in progress. Not all my ducks are in a row and I might need to rejig things. Not everything has been agreed. Here’s the current plan:

Monday to Wednesday: Go to work, earn my keep, maintain marketable job skills.

Thursday: A day of leisure. Sleep late, then pursue my hobbies with no guilt and no urge to move my life forwards

Friday: Attend to my side businesses, move forwards in my projects and life goals.

Saturday: Social circle, shopping, chilling.

Sunday: Dating the LTR, keep the approach numbers up.

Most people walk the treadmill till they’re sixty then wonder where their life went. I initially planned to retire by forty. Now I don’t even need the concept of retirement because my whole life will be tailored to my own personal satisfaction.

Wish me luck fellas.

“You make a great tree” part one

March 12, 2010

I’ve taken a break from trying to set up an entourage as I figured I needed more work on the fundamentals. Plus, banging the Romanian has taken away some of my motivation. Then Wisdom calls me up and says one of the models he number closed last summer is putting on a launch party in a top club and wants us at her VIP table. Ok, time to rustle up an entourage.

I go with my recent leads, ones I’m not especially fussed over which are the following…… [romantic “meet” stories coming right up]

HB6 Black – I’m coming out of Meddlers bar at midnight on Thursday. Its a singles night so the RSG boys make an appearance to see how easy it is. Very easy. Only one genuinely hot girl there and Jambone closes her. Tony T has two of his tutorial students out and corals me into demoing sets. I notice I’m getting lots of attention on my shoes so I just open indirect with that – all the girls are here because they want to be opened, so it’s not hard work. I run through about five sets, hooking all but I’m not interested, when I finally lock in with HB5 Black. She’s loving it but says she’s not gonna bang me tonight and how I must be a “pro” because she saw me working the room. She had been tucked in a corner the whole time so I don’t know how she say it but there’s a valuable lesson in social proof. Later that night her chode boyfriend turns up so I reopen and do some heavy verbal escalation culminating in:

Nice legs too

Krauser: [to BF] Fella, you know what the last thing she said to me was when we were chatting earlier? “I’m not fucking you tonight” then she takes a call on her mobile. I’m left sitting there with a great rejoinder on my lips but can’t get it out cos she’s yapping away.

HB5 and Chode: [laughs]. HB5: So what was the rejoinder?

Krauser: Dunno, forgot.

HB5: [laughs] So you do want to fuck me don’t you [playfully, infront of BF who seems totally unconcerned]

Krauser: Not especially. Turn around and give me a look *she turns around, smiling, shakes her arse and kinos me*

Krauser: OK, shall I give you my honest, unvarnished opinion?

HB5: Yeah, please do.

Krauser: [to chode] You okay with this? *he nods and smiles*

Krauser: Mouth, pussy, arse, mouth, arse again.

HB5 & Chode: *shocked silence, then break out laughing*

Another set has an unintentionally harsh neg. I’m chatting to HB5 Brit and she’s blathering on about how she loves her job as a union legal rep because she gets to stand up to big companies. I say “you’re not even standing up to me” (she’s much lower down on her seat). She gives me a shocked look and says “I am”. I look down and realise she is in fact standing, she’s just really really short. Like a leprechaun. Oops. I apologise but am careful not to beg forgiveness. She can’t stay away from me all night after that. Anyway, the long and short of it is there weren’t any girls worth closing.

On the way home me and Jambone are walking down Charing Cross road when I get what may be an approach invitation from HB6 Black. I run back and find out. Easy hook and facebook close. I tease her on her wall a few days later and then she accepts the invite to this launch party.

HB6 & 7 Koreans: I met one cute little throwabout girl in Covent Garden in summer. Seemed like a strong hook but couldn’t get a day 2, though to be honest I didn’t really try. When I was at the fashion party in February she’s supposed to come but at midnight when we are packing up she hasn’t showed. Walking across Piccadilly Circus with a clutch of model’s outfits over my shoulder I see HB7 Korean. I open and she says she’s going to a fashion party that her sister got onto the guest list of. Apparently some guy approached her in the middle of the street one day and he’s organising it. Doesn’t take long to figure out who that guy is. HB6 accepts my entourage invite and says she’ll bring her hotter sister.

I'm praying to the god of threesomes right now

HB7 Aussie: I’m in a pub on Monday evening with 2 AFC mates discussing some drama a different AFC mate got himself into. I’m explaining how he did what he did because of a scarcity mindset (he’s hopeless with women) and how what you need is an abundance mentality. I say “For example, I know I can go out any time day or night and get some new phone numbers from hot girls”. At the precise moment I say it, HB7 Aussie walks past with her friend. She’s really tall and slim, almost six foot, with a lovely Kill Bill-esque fringe (the Japanese assassion girl). I say to AFC chums “like this” and run after her. Five minutes in and I number close, then walk back to the table with a big grin. I tease her a little on facebook and she comes along to my entourage night by herself.

I take this to mean "stick your cock in my mouth"

Lastly, after I did that coffee-shop sarge with HB8 Indian and an entourage night I met one of her friends HB6 Singer. She’s a fun girl so I’ve been working some light social circle game. She came out a second time but I never directly ran any game on her – no comfort, no attraction. But she’s 18, got good tits, and is generally agreeable. She’s been showing interest in coming out to stuff but flaked on one party and I flaked on another. The response I get off her this time suggests she’s really up for the night out.

Social circle so far

So, I head out thinking I’ve put together an entourage of six rustled up in under 24 hours. Opportunity for jealousy plotlines…..