Texts from last night

July 31, 2013

Here’s the complete text chat with Bhodi as we had unrelated first dates in different parts of town with girls we’d number-closed on the weekend.

15:35 Him: First selfie from [recent close].… I’m on with the yank for tonight, no mention of a double date. got butterflies

18:36 Him: what was that brooklyn joke again [his date is from there – I retell the joke over a quick call]

18:55 Him: hows it going with Secret Tits? this bitch just sprung a double date on me 10 mins b4 meet up. v. angry

19:17 Me: My date has at least one more drink. Just keep me up to date

20:07 Me: Attraction done. Intellectual mastery done. Frame controlled. Now I shall lean back, make her chase then cement it with a kiss.

20:22 Him: mine talks a lot

21:00 Me: A bit of trouble now from mine. Prolly shit test. The second bird showed up?

21:07 Me: She refused kiss and said what if I never feel like it. I punished her with bad vibe. Now she’s buying me a drink when I expected her to make excuses and leave. Bitches be crazy.

21:12 Him: could be a meta shit test.

21:13 Him: i got kc at venue 2… heading to hawley arms for 1 then will try xtrct

21:14 Him: asking if her friend can come “for one” to hawley. im going to just forbid it.

21:26 Me: Don’t lose your nerve

22:57 Him: extracting.

23:02 Me: Brass neck it. No fear. No apologies

00:00 Me: Going for shaky extraction. Expect refusal.

00:38 Me: Grrrrr. Had to stop taxi. Sitting outside Great Portland Street eating beef monster munch.


01:50 Me: Extracted….

02:04 Him: BOOM! +1, L-town

03:24 Me: Me too. +1. Good work

14:04 Him: notching american girls is like shooting fish in a barrel.

14:08 Me: but Game doesn’t work on native speakers…..

18:41 Me: knobbed my German in the Charing Cross Hotel toilets. Decent 24 hours.

18:42 Him: lol. i’m exhausted but it’s glorious

Do you want to be taken seriously?

July 30, 2013

It’s commonly known that when surveying people about their sexual habits and history women will understate and men will overstate. File that in the drawer marked Obvious. Add internet anonymity and suddenly every man is ten feet tall, pulls in mad stacks, and is balling it with dimes.

Mad stacks and dimes, yesterday

Mad stacks and dimes, yesterday

Well in America, anyway. To paraphrase Robert E Howard*, “I’ve never met an American who wasn’t fronting.” Usually I don’t mind such bullshitters because I mentally subtract three points from the girls they claim to be banging and long before I learned Game I never accepted the Argument From Authority. If you want to convince me of an argument I expect to see true premises (supported by evidence) woven into a conclusion with valid argument. I don’t care who is presenting that argument.

I know within thirty seconds of meeting a man if he’s doing well with women. I’ve met a bunch of name coaches, under-the-radar players, and bloggers of repute. Of those I know who has it and who doesn’t. I can’t say the same for commentors. So let me offer a little deal.

If you want to pull the argument from authority and be taken seriously on the basis of that alone, you must prove yourself to be an authority. That means you must send me (krauser@rocksolidgame.co.uk):

  1. A photo of you that is representative of your SMV
  2. Photos of the last three girls you fucked (for free), with a note of when you banged them
  3. Your lifetime laycount and also over last twelve calendar months.

This information will be accepted on an honour basis, so I’ll take you at your word. I figure liars and weasels will easily trap themselves in later comments. I promise to keep the specifics you provide private unless you give me express permission to publically mention it. I won’t share the photos (even if we have a subsequent heated disagreement) and if I refer to your laycount it will be vague. I’ll simply make occasional mention that I saw your evidence and where I rate you.

This is the only way I will take you seriously. Any other attempts to position yourself as a player will be met with derision.

This is entirely optional. Feel free to decline the offer. You are still welcome to comment. You will still be judged on the quality of your comments. Just don’t expect anyone to accept “trust me, I bang hotties” type positioning. Top that, motherfuckers.

* “I’ve never met a wrestler who wasn’t champion of something” from a classic Sailor Steve Costigan story.

“Everyone is getting laid but me”

July 28, 2013

After a run of approaches that go nowhere I sometimes tell myself “All I need is one girl and a tiny piece of luck”. If I find a Yes Girl I will fuck her. No question. All I need to get laid now is a girl who fancies me, is available, and no logistical barriers.

Throw me a little luck, please

Throw me a little luck, please

But being a bald 38 year old man with unremarkable looks….. those conditions aren’t satisified anywhere near as often as they are for a tall, young good-looking guy. Nonetheless it’s the hand I’m dealt so that’s the hand I play and I do okay. Since my last new girl three weeks have passed without knobbing another. This is how close I’ve come:

  • Romanian 23 yr old flashes me a barely perceptible IOI on Oxford Street. I jump on it. Very sexually charged from the beginning. Bounce her to a pub where I kiss close one hour in. Next pub she’s all over me. I’m one hour from pulling the trigger for an almost dead-cert SDL when her boss rings and harrangues her into joining a client dinner. Now she’s back in Romania.
  • Swiss 24 yr old is ambling down the stairs in front of the National Gallery. I bounce her to the Sherlock Holmes pub then on to the Coal Hole where I kiss close. She’s sitting in my lap, making out, hand rubbing my dick. But she’s visiting a cousin who finishes work one hour later and they have plans. Now she’s back in Switzerland.
  • Ghanian 25 yr old walking behind me on Oxford Street smiles when I turn around and notice her. Ten minute street stop and then on the first date she gives me the “I’m a good girl, I don’t kiss treatment”. Three hours later I’m in the hallway of her flatshare with her hands down my trousers. Then big time LMR. We’re still in touch. Might happen.
  • Guinean 24 yr old flashes me IOI on Oxford Street so I open and we have a few dates. She’s massively into me. I get her on my bed and her open mouth is one inch from my dick before she suddenly changes her mind and there’s LMR. Over Whatsapp she sends me photos of her new haircut. I tell her she looks like Snoop Dogg. She refuses to talk to me again.
  • Russian 23 yr old walks past me on Piccadilly at 9pm and gives the mother of all eye sparkles when I open. She’s lightly kinoing me. Super on. I’m already five minutes late for a date with a solid prospect so I put the Russian off until 11pm. We have a drink in an Irish Bar and I kiss close within ten minutes. She tells me she’s married. I reply “I don’t care”. She says “Neither do I”. Back in her hotel one drink later. Pushing her up against the wall, her tits out, her hands in my pants…. then she says she’s sharing a room with work collegues and won’t fuck in the toilets. She leaves to Russia 6am the next morning.
  • Kazak 24 yr old stunner stops for me in the Prague streets. She fancies me but she got married two months ago and is still in love. I break the fourth wall and start the “If you’d told me you were single, what I’d have done is…..” and a minute in she starts blushing, giggling and eye sparkling. I idate her. Towards the end of it I make a big move with a covert proposition of sex behind an overt offer to get a drink this evening. She looks hard into my eyes for ten seconds, thinking, considering. Finally she says “No. I’m married”. So so close.
  • Australian 22 yr old in Prague lets me feel her tits and arse on the street stop, comes to idate and is all over it. But then a hotter Kazak calls me to say she’s arrived for our Day 2 so I must choose a horse to back. I choose the Kazak because she’s a point hotter and I don’t ever break my word. Wrong move.

There’s a couple of others. My point is this: If I’d had slightly better luck, or slightly better game I’d have fucked four or five girls in the last two weeks. Instead I fucked zero. It used to be extremely frustrating to get girls right to the edge of the cliff, one step away from tumbling all the way to the bottom, and then they pull back.

Me, many times recently

Me, many times recently

Emotional control is the most important part of the Game.

You have to get used to doing the work, pushing hard and then have things just fall apart in front of your disbelieving eyes. Charge it to the game. After a while it gets amusing. I used to get angry when a lay was snatched from my grasp. Now it’s a good story.

I bang my first 24 yr old Mexican intern

July 26, 2013

There’s a whole world of sex out there.

Back in my pre-game days I had the usual male views about girls’ sexuality. I knew they liked sex and I knew they liked it rough but I never fully appreciated how quickly they’d decide they wanted it. I thought it was only easy girls who put out the first day you meet them. It’s barely an exaggeration to say I thought threesomes only happened in pornos and toilet sex was an urban myth. How little I knew…..

My experiences in Game have taught me alot about female sexuality. I’ve learned that many girls want Adventure Sex to add sparkle to the dreary routine of their lives. They’ve read Jackie Collins and EL James and they want their story. They want their memory to get tingly flashbacks about while entering data into Excel at work. I sincerely believe that if you sit a normal girl down in a normal cafe to talk about it she really won’t know where her sexual limits and proclivities are. She won’t believe that she could be picked up one afternoon from the corner of Buckhingham Palace and then rousted in an stranger’s bedroom before the night is out. That’s why its so common to see confusion on a girl’s face after she’s been Same Day Laid. She didn’t know she had it in her and yet here she is, wiping a stranger’s cum out of her eyes with no idea which part of the city she’s in. And she has to admit to herself that she enjoyed it.

Usually I make her admit it while I’m fucking her

Me: “When you woke up this morning did you think you’d be in a stranger’s bed, getting fucked hard?”

Her: “No!”

Me: “Did you think a stranger would pick you up from the street?”

Her: “No!”

Me: “You like it don’t you. You like that I saw you, thought I want to fuck that, and now here you are, bouncing around with my dick deep inside you, don’t you?”

Her: “Yes! I love it!”

Such it was with this cute little girl. Definitely a Mexi-can not a Mexi-can’t. So where were we…. yes the corner of Buckingham Palace…. readers of Tom Torero’s longwinded boring comprehensive book will have heard how he picked up a Chilean tourist from the Green Park corner of Buckingham palace and SDL’d her. Good work, fella. I got a German from that corner. It’s fairly tight game, junior instructor level. However real elite-level daygamers SDL tourists from both publically-accessible corners of Buckingham Palace.

Incontrovertible truth, yesterday

Incontrovertible truth, yesterday

While out with Tom in early July it’s about 2pm and the heat is burning us. After a cruise around the fountains opposite the Palace we decide to strike out towards Victoria. There’s long processions of Portuguese and French schoolies cluttering the streets but as the masses part I see a cute little hamster ambling about on her own. I don’t even need to describe to you dear readers how she was dressed or what she was carrying in her hands. I open.

My vibe is good, there’s eye sparkle. After five minutes I take a number. Allow me to offer a small calibration tip for SDLing tourists…… It’s 2pm, it’s a beautiful day, and this girl just arrived in London late last night as a stopover before continuing on to West Africa tomorrow morning for a placement in an embassy. This is her one day in London, her first time in Europe.

Should I instant date her?

Quite similar to this but not hardened

Quite similar to this but not hardened

If you answered anything other than “hell no” you need to go back to SDL school (or read the chapter on SDLs in my upcoming book, should I decide to release it). This girl has 24 precious hours in the city of her dreams and she’s only just begun exploring. She wants to see Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, the Tower of London. She wants to walk around and absorb the atmosphere on a clear sunny day, snapping off pictures for the memories. Even if I do corral her into a cafe for a drink her mind will be constantly wandering to all those tourist sites she can’t see because she’s having coffee with me. The smart call is to bin the Same Day Lay and instead push for the Same Day Delay. That means agreeing to meet up with her later in the evening after all the sightseeing is done. Advantages?

  • You don’t waste time trotting around tourist sites, time better spent opening other girls
  • If she meets you later its more on because she’s had time to think about it and decided Yes. She’s passed through an additional early filter
  • She’s not distracted. If anything she’s all touristed-out and just wants to relax over a drink or two
  • She’s had a chance to go back to her hotel to shower, shave her pussy, and put on nice underwear
  • It’s closer to nighttime and the sexual vibe it brings

So it looks good and I let her go, telling her to text me once she’s finished. Here’s the transcript:

Me: [5pm] Hey. I’m in Trafalgar Square 🙂 How is your adventure in London? [ping text, frame it as adventure]

Her: [6pm] Hey it has been cool, im around piccadily, don’t kno where trafalgar is [looks good]

Me: Meet me at Piccadilly at 7:30pm? [push for logistics, we already agreed date in set]

Her: Bought ticket for the theatre 7:30, maybe afterwards? [counter offer, happy to meet late, no complaining about tiredness and needing to sleep]

Me: Which show? [bring logistics under my control]

Her: Let it be at savoy theatre

Me: I know the savoy. I’ll meet you after the show [remove chances for her to derail this, I’ll be right outside to intercept]

Her: Ok, let me know where. Barrery is dying ill turn it on after the show [keen]

Me: I’ll be outside the savoy.

Lets pause and think what’s going on here. When you follow the usual two-date daygame model you’ve got margins for error. If things get a bit tangled in the texting phase you can give her a 48-hour roll-off and rebuild momentum with a ping text. If her calendar is blocked out you can wait for it to clear. If her phone runs out of battery there’s time for her to recharge it. In contrast, SDLing a tourist her last night in town is redlining your car. The slightest error, the slightest bump in the road and you’ll be spinning Artyon Senna-like into the wall. The single biggest source of fucking up an SDL is logistics. Where can this go wrong if I just suggest meeting at Trafalgar Square, a mere five minutes walk from the theatre?

She starts walking the wrong direction and gets lost. Her phone dies.

She starts walking after two hours sitting in a theatre chair. She realises her legs are tired and she wants to go home.

She is lulled into sleep in the theatre and can’t be bothered with a date. Might as well go home and text she feels tired.

One of the few things you can control in the Game is logistics. I could google the theatre, call them and find out what time the 7:30pm show finishes. Then at kicking out time there I am at the main entrance waiting for her. It’s not creepy because she agreed to it. What I’m doing is removing her weasel-room and general tourist/woman incompetence. So it goes smooth? No. She’s not there. I wait fifteen minutes, then text Tom “Was on time but a no show. What a surprise”

Fuck it, might as well fire out a message to her. I was surprised she got cold feet. It seemed on.

Me: [15 minutes after finish, everyone has left theatre] Hey. I waited at savoy theatre but didn’t see you

Her: [immediate reply] Really? Me neither. where are u now?

Me: Outside savoy. Come here

Her: Im by the london eye. Somewhere in the middle?

Me: Cross the white footbridge and wait at Embankment underground station entrance

Her: Ok

Ah….. turns out she accidently went out the back exit. So we meet and I walk her along to an nice English pub. A textbook application of the SDL model ensues. Comfort, rapport, spiking. She’s keeping herself quite restrained so I’m thinking its amber lights. At the second venue, a dark bar/club in Covent Garden which is nearly empty on a Wednesday night, I get good seductive isolation and kiss close. She responds well, murmuring something about it being fast but accepting it and kissing well. I put her legs across me and give lots of physical comfort.

By now it’s pushing midnight and most bars are shut. We get turned away from a couple so I just pull the trigger faster than planned and push her into a taxi. She has no problem with it. Back in the house she needs twenty minutes on email and facebook to sort out her visa worries for the next day. No point trying to push her away from that – she’s sitting on my bed looking comfortable. I can be patient.

Finally she resolves her admin to her satisfaction so I pull her down to me and escalate. She’s naked very quickly. No LMR. There’s the usual post-sex “how did this happen” and she tells me five prior sexual partnets. I text Tom

“Correction. +1. Mexican flag. SDL. Story to follow”

Prague Stories #2

July 24, 2013

On our first night we try a little gutter game. The sun has set but the streets are still buzzing. We get refused entry to a teenybopper bar because a chode pub crawl company has commandeered the whole bar. A snotty tart organising it nearly gets punched off Tom but while it’s not the greatest emotional control I’ve ever seen at least the anger gets our state up. We head to the bridge and start pinging girls.

There’s a solo South Korean taking photos. Tom sidles over and opens. It’s a good hook. She’s on her last day, by herself touring Europe. We inquire whether she likes adventure, whether she likes the anonymity of travelling alone where “anything can happen.” Ten minutes later we are in a strip bar with her, escalating. Her verbals are all no-no-no but she’s taking the physical escalation like a trooper. She’s not so hot, a six. Young.

Not hot enough for this line up

Not hot enough for this line up

Tom and I just keep hammering it, looking at each other and chuckling as we bring out all our cheesy gambits. Yes, she’s a hamster. No, she’s not dated an English guy. Yes, she is a rebel. No, she’s a good girl. etc etc etc. It’s like watching an SDL on 4x fast forward. We’re amazed its getting as far as it does. After the beer we take her to look at the strippers. She likes the one on the right, she answers. Better legs, sexier dance. Fuck it, 45 minutes in we pull the trigger and walk her 50m to our apartment.

She won’t come in. So two steps back, walk her to the main square to take photos. Tom’s playing with her hands, I’m “driving” her using her shoulders. She’s still accepting all the physical escalation. We are starting to believe she might be corraled into a spit roast and then……. pop! Her brain fuzz clears and the shutters slam down. No, she won’t kiss me. No, she won’t put her hand on my dick. And no, she won’t come back to the apartment.


Estrogen Slug

July 22, 2013

It has given me great pride over the years to introduce a few new terms into the manosphere lexicology. Nothing earth-shattering and some, like Avoidance Weasel, are not even my own. But I’m claiming this one.

Last winter while in Thailand I noticed a trend in nightclubs wherein a group of six or seven slim university girls would be huddled / dancing around a high table and seated amongst them would be a fat smooth-skinned male student with manbag, ill-fitting shirt and glasses. He’d be buying the big bottle of liquor the girls are making merry from. And he wouldn’t get even a kiss for his troubles. Back in England I see more troubling examples. Mostly chubby Asian dorks being led around by the slim pretty girls who’ve LJBF’d them.

Just look at this guy. Lost, dazed, confused. Shuffling around indecisively like a lost panda bear. His pants recently shitted.

Then I noticed there’s black, white and wop equivalents. Like a herbus maximus. So let’s consider the defining features:

  • Smooth blemish free skin that’s never been soiled by stubble nor moustache
  • Chubbiness that doesn’t quite reach obesity but enough for the cheek fat to Japanicize the eyes
  • Ill-fitting, cheap plain clothes often with white trainers and a backpack (sometimes worn backwards, across the chest)
only semi-reversible

only semi-reversible

Just imagine a male baby drenched in estrogen since suckling, perhaps with weekly dialysis to remove pesky testosterone build-up. He’s not a herb. Herb’s have castrated themselves with lifestyle choices. Estrogen slugs literally have a hormone imbalance. They are the polar opposite of narrow-hipped hairy-armed manjaws, the yin to their yang. But never ever seen together. This is what the modern Cartman-esque lifestyle of junk food, video games and porn can do to you.

Prague Stories #1

July 20, 2013

I recently came back from a three-day jaunt to Prague. It was a pretty good holiday but no outstanding sets or good luck with Yes Girls. Nonetheless some stories stick in the mind. Towards the end of the third day I’d finally hit a good vibe and rattled off a string of good sets with solid work. While headed up to my hostel I see a hot girl walking past. I open…..

Sigma, yesterday

Sigma, yesterday

There’s strong eye contact, she’s loving it and the whole vibe is subdued. Then a couple of minutes in she gives me the “I’ve got a boyfriend”. That’s where it becomes interesting.

Me: Hmmmmm. Is it serious?

Her: I guess. I’ve been living with him over a year.

Me: So….. what’s the chances of you being able to slip out of the window one night to come and have a drink with me?

Her: [actually thinks about it for five seconds]. No, I can’t. But maybe we can have coffee before you go?

Me: Ok. Give me your number.

Her: [while putting her number in]. You know it’s really cool how direct you are. It’s boring in a long relationship, guys don’t tell you you’re pretty.

Me: I’ll bet the sex gets boring too.

Her: Yes.

So this girl has a foot outside the relationship or she’d have never entertained me. I fire out a text the next morning.

Me: My last day so I must find goulash… nom nom nom 🙂

Her: 🙂 you should, its the best. blah blah blah [very long text about restaurant advice]

Me: Thanks hon 😉 I’m going to the airport at 7pm. Wanna squeeze in a quick coffee?

Her: Wish I could 😦 we’re blah blah blah [long apologetic excuse]… Really do wish I could though. Are you often in Prague?

Me: I expect to be back later this year 😉 I’ll add you to Facebook when I’m back in London

Her: 🙂 Do that. There’s a picture of my butt 🙂 I hope to see you when you get back, then. I’m sorry about today, would love to go for a coffee but I really can’t leave the house today.. I was hoping to get to England later this summer but finishing my work is taking much longer that I thought… Next year for sure, though.

Me: [back in England two days later] I couldn’t find a butt….

Her: 🙂 I guess only friends can see it, try it now [accepts add]

I then immediately take the conversation over to Facebook.

That escalated quickly...

That escalated quickly…

A long dirty sex chat follows until Bhodi is knocking on my door to go outside and I have to bring it to a close.

We'll call this a boyfriend-destroyer

We’ll call this a boyfriend-destroyer

So this is the kind of bad luck I’ve been having. A hot bird who is absolutely gagging for it, would be a proper dirty whore in bed…. and logistics render it all impossible. On the plus side I’m getting more dirty photos for my collection. My long wait for a proper Yes Girl continues. Sometimes the luck is against me.