Breaking the man-eater: Part 3

Since my last encounter with this crazy (and crazy-hot) girl I’ve had two failed attempts at a second date. She’s playing hard to get, busy, and flaked on the two dates we set up. Frame control is a huge issue here as she’s constantly trying to put me through her hoops. The crucial thing about this girl’s psychology is that she has lots of rich chodes paying for her and supplicating to her raw sexual aggression. She desperately needs a guy who won’t pay for shit and will just slap her down. That’s me.
We finally get together on the Monday night before I go to Lithuania again. We’re supposed to meet 8pm but it keeps getting pushed back at her behest. I don’t have enough compliance to insist via text but nor do I want to lose the frame. Thus our texts are like this:
Her 8:41pm: Running behind, 9:30???  [=dance to my tune, chump]
Me 8:44pm: Ok, I’ve not left the house yet. I hope this extra time was spent on looking good…  [I’m not inconvenienced yet. Reframe]
Her 8:50pm: Lmao, spend time on looking good?? Don’t make me laugh! I have a baseball cap on, vest & ripped jeans lol… now why would I go to the bother of even trying to impress you?? lol!! Too funny x  [Loves the reframe, resists]
Me 8:51pm: That’s exactly what I wanted you to wear. Well done. [Condescending reframe]
I’m on time and she calls to say the tubes are off and she’ll be late. It’s not bullshit because there’s a tube strike today and I can here station noise in the background of the call. I figure this isn’t a test so I give some comfort and tell her I’ll wait in a pub. She arrives on a replacement bus 10 min walk away and calls. I give more comfort and wait. Finally we meet on the street in Piccadilly and she gives me a beaming smile and huge hug. Despite all the hide’n’seek bullshit the vibe is excellent in person. We go to O’Neils pub just before a folk band starts playing.
I hold strong frame and she willingly submits. It starts with her trying to get me to buy her food and drinks so I refuse and she goes to the bar pouting. I slap her arse as she walks off. I wait till I think she’s there (it’s busy) and text to rub it in:
Me 11:09pm: If they’ve got Doom, I’ll have that. Otherwise any pint of bitter. Thanks x
She comes back with only her own drink, telling me she left mine at the bar. I go over and am surprised that she did actually buy my drink and tell the barman for me to come collect it (it’s amazing to see how easily she twists guys around her fingers). I hold strong “oak tree” body language and she wraps herself around me and starts fighting for my attention. It’s a great vibe. There’s loads of chodes on surrounding tables who’s thought process is transparent. Something like this:
  • Woah, she’s hot!!! Look at those tits! And that arse! She’s so sexual!
  • Who is that guy she’s with? He’s just a normal dude. Eh?
  • He must be rich and all over her…. but hang on… he’s not. He’s totally ignoring her. She’s so gonna dump him. I’d treat her much better.
  • Hang on, is she trying to wank him off in the middle of the bar?!
  • Did he just tell her to stop it, turn away, fold his arms and start watching the band? She’s gonna go mental…
  • Hang on, she’s pulling down her top and trying to show him her tits. Now she’s licking his ear. What’s going on?
  • *brain explodes*
This girl loves chasing and loves a guy who isn’t easily swayed by her charms. Don’t get me wrong – I reward her and give comfort, but without supplicating. I also verbally escalate the shit out of her. After we finish the food I try to extract. We’re in the taxi before she starts telling me she’s never going to my place, how she has to wake up early, and that she’s on the rag. So the taxi stops off at her place first. The driver is a normal nice-guy black dude, about late twenties. He’s about to get an infield demo of douchebag game.
My girl is flipping between talking dirty and shit testing. As usual. I’m maintaining frame and enjoying it immensely. She gets her tits out. Then rubs my cock. Then asks if I’ve ever had a blowjob in a taxi and starts unzipping me. The whole time she’s looking into my eyes to see if I’ll bottle it because of the taxi driver. I tell her to get on with it. She does. My first taxi blowjob. It’s quick and she’s looking into my eyes, smiling with the satisfaction of a child who has just won a gold star in the maths test, and seeing if I’m embarrassed. I’m not. I tell her to do it properly and push her head down.
Finally we get to hers and it’s clear she really is on the rag (she was loving my finger fuck but insisted with was through the material of her panties) and there’s no f-close. So I pull back and go home. Taxi dude is laughing saying she was a handful, so I give him the full field report from the initial open. He’s blown away and asks for the RSG website address. I’m tired and wanna sleep, but I decide to try some follow-up via text:
Me 1:37am: Now I have to decide whether to have a wank or go straight to bed  [intriguing open, reframe the failure to f-close]
Her 1:38am: Oh, choices choices huh, well if you’re nice to me upon your return, I might wank you myself?? Then let you taste me?? [trying to get me to supplicate to the golden pussy – yet again]
Me 1:40am: So you’re trying to get me to wank while thinking about you? Not very subtle. Sheeeesh! [reframe her as wanting validation]
Her 1:40am: Well treat me nice then you’ll see ucker!!  [accepted – tells me she needs some comfort]
Me 1:42am: Btw, the taxi driver said he expected to see a longer blowjob. I told him it was fairly enjoyable as is, but he disagreed. [fun vibe and I’m not just lucky to be there]
Her 1:44am: Lmao, yeah right!! Tell him I’m glad he enjoyed the show, I always aim to please!!  [playful]
Me 1:46am: Ok, I’m gonna wank over you. Just this once. Gonna try and find a porno girl who looks like you on teh interwebs. This is me being romantic. [reward her blowjob with an SOI, hint she’s interchangeable, joke]
Her 1:50am: Really? You’re being romantic?? Now that’s a major turn on!! Chicks don’t dig brutes! Give me yr email address & I’ll send some naughty pics!  [she loves it]
Me 1:51am: Sweet. [email address]. Do it now, I haven’t settled in  [bossy]
Her 1:57am: Sent, check now x  [3 photos, all naked. There’s one of her bending over and there’s a christmas tree in the background]
Me 1:59am: Nice christmas tree 😉 got any with your legs at quarter-to-three? [might as well push harder]
Her 2:07am: How about that one? Gosh nothing gets by you, & u certainly cannot say you’re not demanding!!! Go on, where are pics for moi??  [loves it – most guys would be exuding “I’m not worthy” gratitude at getting just one pic. I expect more]
[the “2:45” pic arrives]
Me 2:08am: I like ’em. Good work! [reward good behaviour without giving away my power]
Her 2:09am: Merci beacoup!!
Me 2:10am: I’ve only got videos with me, not pics, and they are mostly of the girls with just a stunt-cock appearance by me….  [oh, the pre-selection…. plus I’m normalising the exchange of pics and future video recordings]
Me 2:10am: Btw, any of you sucking cock or with cum on your face? [escalate, SOI]
Her 2:15am: None of me like that. I’ve sent more though x  [I’m pleased she doesn’t have such pics. For all her predatory act, I think there’s lots of sweetness to her and she’s actually acting out a role following a bad breakup]
[the third mail arrives – funnily enough the file names are [blah blah]35.jpeg and [blah blah]75.jpeg so clearly she’s done a portfolio]
Me 2:19am: Ok, I think I’ve got enough to get started. Gonna enjoy tapping your ass. Feel free to send the other 71 photos over the next week – if you wanna keep my mind off the Lithuanians  [reward her, show intent, assume the sale, pre-select]
Her 2:20am: Lol!!! Have a safe trip!!
I have a wank and go to bed. The big question is: Should I post the pics?

Breaking the man-eater – Part 2

Saturday night and I’m waiting in the queue to a high-end nightclub with today’s Japanese girl, Suave, and three Brazilian girls he knows. It’s been hard work with the Jap cos she’s been with me the past three hours to a bar, eating pizza in a park, and briefly at my house but it’s not really on. Kino is terrible due to her deliberately blocking it even though the conversation is good. The doormen don’t let her in because she’s wearing Converse and I’m almost pleased. I direct her to the station and the rest of us go in.

Right from the off the three girls are social proofing us and before long I get a strong proximity IOI from two girls in similar red dresses, one is a tall 20yr old black chick and the other a slightly porky whitey. They are trying to catch my eye but I refuse to give it as Suave and I talk like nothing else in the club matters but us and the three Brazilians dance next to us. As I walk past the black girl to go outside she makes a big effort to catch my eye and I blank her again.

Just before the doors I tell Suave to stop and sure enough the two girls are following us out. I open with “Hey girls, I see you used the same pair of curtains to make your dresses, Are you twins?” They hook immediately and we lead them outside for a smoking break. The first ten minutes is great with kino and deep eye contact with the black girl but Suave’s girl is a typical pain the arse bolshy Northern English bitch who manages to kill the vibe and cockblock me. Before my target has lost interest entirely my date turns up. She’s alone. I just walk away from the target without a word and collect my date.

Black girl 1 (red dress) goes inside to the bar so I position myself on the opposite side in full view of her, leaning back against the bar while black girl 2 (my date) throws herself over me. It’s on. Both girls are similar in size and hotness so I figure this jealously plotline has a chance at tearing a hole in the time-space continuum. Both notice each other and it begins. Suave and I are massively preselected now and he uses it to number close a cute little Colombian and brings her into the set so it’s five girls and two guys. Black Girl 2 grabs my cock and is generally escalating until Black Girl 1 comes round and grabs my arm and smiles, then dances six feet in front of me staring continuously. When Suave goes outside and she follows five minutes later I disentangle myself from Black Girl 2 and try a rapid number close.

Bloody hard work

Rebuffed. Although massively attracted her pride is piqued and she salves it by turning me down. I wish her a good night and focus on the main target. From now on I get quite an education in game from Black Girl 2. Really, I learned more in the following five hours with her than any other set. Too much to write about so I’ll put chronological highlights in bullet points.

  • She wants to get £100 out the cash machine to pay her friend who is coming to deliver coke. As I walk her there she’s bitching about her high heels. I throw her against a wall and we make out. She keeps pushing me away, I blast through it.
  • I call my member’s bar to reserve a table. While on the phone I click my fingers and indicate my date to come over. She does. I grab her by the throat, push her up against a wall and inbetween talking to the receptionist we make out. She loves it.
  • In the taxi to the bar she’s all over me but keeps pulling away to tell me I’m a loser and probably shit in bed whereas she’s awesome. I tell her I’m rubbish and that I come within a minute then just roll over and go to sleep. She starts grabbing my cock.
  • In the bar it’s really quiet and we have lots of privacy. When we talk about meeting tomorrow she remembers this morning when I said I was busy. I say just busy on the evening with my Turk who I’m gonna fuck. I suggest we meet in the afternoon so I can fuck her first and have a better story for my friends. She responds by pulling out her iphone and showing me text messages from the three ex-boyfriends she’s fucked this week. She doesn’t wanna fuck me this week because then she’d feel like a slut. I cross her off my LTR list. Fuck buddy is the limit of her potential now.
  • She qualifies constantly about her sexual prowess – her £4k false tits (admittedly brilliantly installed), her too tight pussy which she claims gives men their best ever fuck, and so on. I counter by saying that stuff may be true but doesn’t interest me – all I care about is the girl knows how to hold her body in visually appealing poses and is enthusiastic. She qualifies immediately saying she can do all that and will scream my name all night.
  • After a line of coke she gets her breasts out in the bar. No-one can see – the other guests have gone home and the waiter is in the staff room. I say “those are going in my mouth right now” and drag her upstairs to a toilet so I can lock the door shut. While I’m sucking her tits she’s fiddling with the lock and accidently opens it. Another couple burst in and we all start laughing. My girl runs downstairs and says it made her even hornier.
  • We get the bill early and she tries to make me pay. I refuse. After some histrionics she covers her share then invites me back to the toilets for a line of coke. I finger fuck her and slap her arse while she’s cutting the lines. Shes telling me to fuck off and how I’ll never get near her pussy again. As we both snort a line I push her up against the wall, hold her wrists firmly by her sides and just stare into her eyes, lips almost touching, for five minutes as we get the rush. Massive sexual energy.
  • Downstairs she sits on my fingers and I finger fuck her some more, but it looks like she’s just sitting next to me with my hand on her arse. The waiter comes to collect the bill and I engage him in low energy conversation for five minutes while continuing to frig my girl knuckle deep – who has her head in her hands trying to hold in the ecstasy. If the waiter notices, he’s acting like he doesn’t. When he goes away she hugs me and gushes about how sexy it was.
  • Really late on, she stands in the corner with a leg up against the sofa and pulls up her skirt, pushes aside her panties and starts showing me this legendary pussy of glory. She’s pulling the labia apart and telling me how it tastes like honey and men are addicted to going down on her. I tell her I’m mildly impressed but I don’t go down – not unless it’s my girl’s birthday. As soon as she sits back down I point to the ceiling and say “that’s a security camera”. She is shocked and humiliated at first, then finds it hilarious and starts waving at it.
  • She won’t extract back to mine, claiming fatigue. As we head out to find a taxi she starts shit testing even harder, telling me I’m a loser and boring and I’ll never get to fuck her. I tell her she’s a whore and a pain in the arse. It’s all a game though – but it seems very serious at times. Outside Revolution bar I push her into an alcove and we make out. She’s telling me some more that I’ll never fuck her then asks if I’ve ever come in a girls mouth. I whip out my phone and show her a video of me coming over my Thai girl’s face. Her eyes sparkle and she asks if I like taking videos. Then I push her head down and she sucks me off enthusiastically. I tell her not to make me come because I’m saving it for the Turk tomorrow.

Finally she gets a cab home after I run some comfort. This ball-busting frame can’t go on forever. She sends me a nice text to tell me she got home safe. Phew, what a night! Learning points?

  • This girl was a self-confessed sex addict / ball-buster. The way she talked about her exes (and the texts she showed) it’s obvious she completely dominates the men in her life. Not so with me – I told her I’ll break her and every time she hit me with something I came back harder. She loved it.
  • She’s nearly six foot, slim, with massive hooters and a perfect arse. She has incredible sexual confidence and tried her best to alternate between intimidating me with her sexual power while also getting me to supplicate before her to get a piece. I refused and made her chase, or just took what I wanted
  • I’ve never been shit tested so hard and in so many different ways. It was an education. Once I’d figured out what was going on (very early in the initial pick up) I never looked back. It was tremendous fun.
  • Great for the inner game to go through this night, and with such an incredibly hot girl. As recently as two months ago I wouldn’t have been able to handle her at all.

For all this, I’m not sure if I’ll see her again. She’s massively attracted but she’s also got lots of options already set up and I have a nagging feeling that somewhere along the line I must’ve dropped the ball a little – though I can’t think of anything. I just figure I should’ve fucked her and yet I didn’t so ergo something went wrong.

We’ve swapped some texts and she invited me out to a club on Wednesday but it was a mass text so I didn’t bother responding. She’s already demonstrated she’s totally into me so I think I have to maintain value, not chase, and see if she comes chasing.

Breaking the man-eater – Part one

It’s Saturday morning and I’m headed out early to begin the daygame session of our bootcamp. I’m feeling pretty good. I get on the underground as it’s waiting at the platform for a signal. The carriage is about half full and I see an extremely hot Black Girl sitting down. There’s no seats opposite her so I sit alongside and try to figure out the best opener. Takes a while and I start to wonder. She’s looking very bitchy and unapproachable – which is bullshit but for some reason it makes me stall a bit. I maintain alpha posture and ignore her, not looking her way at all like I’ve got serious shit to ponder. I catch a glimpse of her boobies trying to push out her white too-tight t-shirt. Massive, and on a tall slim girl. Ok, I’m definitely opening. The train pulls out and the driver announces it’ll terminate in a few stops.

This doesn't quite do her £4k charms justice

I look at her, scanning for anything at all about her that is comment-worthy. The only thing is her leopard print handbag.

Me: Excuse me *indicate for her to pull out her headphones, she does and leans in* Okay. There’s no way to say this without it sounding weird so I’m just gonna say it.
Her: *intrigued* uh-huh
Me: That handbag of yours. Do women realise that when men see anything in leopard print – shoes, skirt, whatever – we think of prostitutes?
Her: *gasp* Did you just call me a prostitute?
Me: Um, I guess I did. I didn’t mean to. *doesn’t apologise*
Her: *laughs*

We get off at the last station chatting about stuff as we go up the escalators. The first two minutes she’s reserved and testing my ability to plough. By the time we reach the ticket barriers she’s laughing and having fun. She claims she needs help figuring out how to get the train to her bosses barbeque so I tell her we’ll ask the staff. While we wait for him finish advising a tourist she says “Oh, I’m so tired” and puts her head on my shoulder.



This girl is too into me to be doing this just two minutes into the interaction. I decide she’s deliberately escalating because she’s a dominant forceful woman and therefore the frame is at risk already. I decide to see her and raise her – something I’ll do alot before the night is out.

I push her away and say “hang on, if you’re gonna hug me I have to check you out first” and then cast a slow appraising glance over her while she giggles. I get her to spin then I say “Yeah, you’re hot. Come here” and pull her back in. After another 20 seconds small talk I say “I like your tits” and she loves it.

We get directions then go through the barriers.

Me: I’ve got to meet some friends in five minutes, so this is where we say goodbye  [not asking for number yet]
Her: *throws herself into a big hug on me, tits pushed into my chest*
Me: Woah, steady on. I’m getting a boner
Her: *laughs*
Me: *touches own cock* Yes, definitely a boner. Stop that, I don’t want this when I show up to meet my friends.

I take her number and she suggests meeting tomorrow. I say I’m busy. Another big hug and I tilt her chin up with my finger and lightly kiss close. She’s really jiggling her tits up against me trying to maintain my boner. I let her go.

If she's selling those puppies, I'll have the one with the brown nose

I’m walking away thinking “what the fuck just happened?” It was far too easy. I actually check my wallet is still there. Later on she tells me that she’d seen me get on the tube and thought “he’s cute, I’d do him” and was trying to nudge me to attract attention, checking my hands to see if I was married, and apparently stared full on for ten seconds checking me out while I was looking the other way. Interesting. I’ve been getting way more approach invitations the past month than I ever used to.

This girl is scary hot. Her face is about a 7, but her body is straight out perfect ten. £4,000 worth of false tits performed masterfully by the surgeon, tight round arse that springs like a rubber ball to the touch, long shapely legs, and flat toned stomach. Perfect.

Text game ensues after the bootcamp:

Me 5:33pm – Woken up yet darlin’ ? 😉
Her 5:36pm – Yeah lol, where are you now? x
Me 5:40pm – Back home. Making myself beautiful for a night on the razz. You?
Her 5:45pm – At my boss’s house in [zone 6] for a barbecue… where are you going tonight?? X
Me 5:49pm – Clubbing at [West End Club]. Might be able to squeeze you on the guest list for the birthday party I’m going to there.
Her 5:51pm – Really… only if you’d want me with you?
Me 5:52pm – Yeah, sure. I like you 😛 Full name needed. Is your surname [joke based on her name]?

She confirms and she’s gonna show up about 11pm. Before that I have the new Japanese girl for a few hours and my plan is to get them competing for me in the club.

#49 – Front Line Theatre, Heinz Konsalik BOOK REVIEW

Konsalik Front Line Theatre

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the title of this WWII book? Perhaps that the theatre of war it concerns is on the front line of the Eastern Front? Or maybe you look at the red cross markings on the soldier prominently positioned on the cover and think it may describe a medical theatre and thus focus on medics?

I certainly did.

But would you think this book is, in a very literal sense, about a theatre on the front line? I mean the normal use of the word “theatre” as the place where primadonnas and faggots mince around on stage in front of an audience too la-di-da to go to the cinema. Yep, this book is about a touring theatre troupe sent into Russia.

I was a little disappointed. It’s like an episode of Eastenders, with background artillery noise. There’s not any actual battle scenes until about page 130, of a 179-page book. For all that, I still enjoyed it. Konsalik is up to his usual tricks in presenting a sweeping narrative from multiple locations in which various story-threads entwine until there’s a big fat knot at the end where they all end in the same place: in this case, in a small Russian village attacked by partisans ahead of the Russian advance.



It’s all very obvious and strikes predictable notes: the effeminate idealistic concert pianist who volunteered is blown up by a bomb and his hands ripped off, the wide-eyed teenage girl gets pregnant and finds love with a young soldier but they each believe the other dead in the fog of war, the fat sweaty Nazi functionary is a villain who abuses his position to creep on actresses, and the Soviet partisans are wild-eyed wolves pitilessly torturing anyone they find. All the WWII trash novel tropes are in here.

So, I enjoyed it.

I finished it today and by coincidence caught Vox’s latest Darkstream “I was wrong about Hitler”. It makes for a nice segue. A couple of years ago, a commentor here [1] directed me to Victor Suvorov’s book The Chief Culprit, whose thesis is that Stalin started WWII by baiting Hitler into invading Poland, so Britain and France would declare war. The USSR would roll up the weakened victors and take over Western Europe [2]. I bought the book and read the first half, fascinated by the idea.

It seemed to fit some anomalies I’d noticed, such as Guderian talking about military exercises teaching the Soviets blitzkrieg pre-war, about Stalin’s meddling in the Spanish Civil War against both the anarchists and the fascists (yet being harsher on the former), and his unusual (apparent) activity in the early war years.

Panzer Tactics DS

My WW2 wargaming is hardly Advanced Squad Leader

So I read Suvorov but felt I wasn’t in a position to judge his work. I lacked the necessary wide-reading in the Eastern Front [3] to judge whether Suvorov was fairly selecting and interpreting his evidence, or if it was a big spin job to make a name for himself on the back of persuasive bullshit [4]. I’d also read a good bit of The Wages Of Destruction a few years earlier which argued the Nazi economy was nowhere near as strong as legend has it and that Hitler had been pushed into war to revive flagging German fortunes. My mind was at least open to the idea that Hitler wasn’t the wildly aggressive leader he’d been painted as but that key strategic decisions may have been a result of choosing between poor options rather than being head of a dominant economy and army full of super soldiers.

I remember these key items that Suvorov provided evidence for to support his thesis:

  • Russia had the world’s first long-range strategic bombers but Stalin repeatedly cancelled orders to build them because they are only useful in defence. When you intend to conquer a city you don’t want to flatten it or you destroy your own prize.
  • Stalin instead built up lots of fast light fighter-bombers that are designed to take out defensive emplacements to clear the way for a ground invasion.
  • All Soviet forces were lined up in attack formations on the border with little defensive fortification
  • USSR took lots of military training from Germany in the 1930s including the emerging blitzkrieg ideas.
  • Stalin meddled in the 1933 election, getting the Communist Party to support the Nazis in order to keep out the Social Democrats, because the latter were less likely to start the war he wanted.

There’s more, I forget most of it because I was rather overwhelmed with detail. So, I parked his thesis as “interesting and likely true” but held it in mental quarantine until I knew more. This did not stop me adding it into my Jewish Question stack that I started using with girls on dates in 2015/16.

Yes, I would rail against Jews on dates in 2015 (in 2016 I swapped it out for my “Trump is greater than Alexander” stack). It was based on the Hitler Was Right idea and went roughly as follows:

“The main problem with the Final Solution is that it was not sufficiently final. There were two holocausts, one real and one fake. The real one was in Eastern Europe following Operation Barbarossa and it consisted of reserve battalions following the German advance. They’d roll up into a village, round up all the Jews, walk them into the forest and machine gun them into a mass grave. Done and dusted in one afternoon.”
“But Schindler’s List…” says the girl.
“It’s a Jew movie. Imagine for a minute you’re Hitler and you really want to exterminate Jews. You control the world’s greatest army and head the most efficient people who’ve ever lived. Say one of your subordinates presents you with this idea…. Let’s round up all the Jews and send them by train to different camps around Germany and Poland. We’ll feed them for several years, then on a whim push them into small shower rooms and use a weird gas to kill them, then burn them in ovens barely big enough to cook a modern pizza. That’s ridiculous. Plus there’s so little evidence the ‘death camps’ were anything more than ‘work camps’ or ‘internment camps’ that suffered the same malnutrition, outbreaks, and squalor as the rest of Germany towards the end of the war.”

At this point the girls are usually giving rapt attention just because of how unexpected the thesis is, so I followed it up with this…

“Germany had won WWI by 1916 but then the International Zionists met with the British War Council in London and promised to use their influence to get the USA into the war if Britain supported their claim to create Israel in Palestine. Obviously the British agreed, as it was something for nothing. USA came in, and WWI went on twice as long as it should have and the victor was changed. That’s a few million white Christians killed due to Jew tricks.”
“Then the Versailles Treaty wrecks Germany in order to force Germany to pay reparations to France and the UK, who use the money to repay loans to Jew bankers in the USA. The treaty was like the AIG bailout in 2008 that was really about covering Goldman Sachs who held the winning end of the trades with AIG. That’s an old Jew trick.”
“The result is the Jews got their money back and Germany hyper-inflated the currency to cover reparations. That destroyed all asset values in Germany, allowing the Jews to buy up all the industries and lock down the professions in the 1920s. They then blackballed ethnic Germans out of all economic opportunities. The late 1920s were a time of Jewish depredation and preying on German women, much like Hollywood and Manhattan today.”
“At the same time, the Jewish Bolsheviks had taken over Russia, the leaders Lenin and Trotsky facilitated by New York Jews. Almost 80% of the Politburo was Jewish. The Russian Revolution is best understood as a Jewish attack on Russia, with Russians as the victims. So, Lenin immediately begins agitating for a communist revolution in Germany, which is already in desperate straits. Terrorist attacks, uprisings, commie agit-prop. They are trying to destroy Germany.”
“Finally in 1933 the Nazis take over and quite politely begin unwinding the Jewish interference. So, in 1934 International Zionism literally declares war on Germany – you can find front page headlines of it on the internet. Germany’s already ruined economy loses another 20% GDP. Then in the mid-1930s the Jew Bolsheviks genocide ten million white Christians in Ukraine in the Holomodor.”
“The WWII kicks off in 1939 and Germany has incredible success that shocks even their own High Command. Guderian’s memoir even says they kept telling him to slow down. Then in 1941 they realise Stalin is amassing forces on the USSR’s western border, to attack Germany.”
“So, think of it this way…. starting in 1916 there have been 25 years of Jewish attacks on Germany, mostly successful. They made Germany lose a war they’d won, bankrupted the country, destroyed the currency, urged revolution, stolen the industry. They’d already murdered well over ten million white Christians, declared war, and were now amassing a massive army for invasion.”
“Really, in the circumstances, after 25 years of intense provocation, I think the Holocaust was little more than a mild overreaction by the Nazis. If anything, the Jews owe us at least 4 million more lives.”

Anyway, I don’t know how much of that is fair but it made for fun dates. It interests me that Vox Day – a man with vastly more military knowledge than myself – has just read The Chief Culprit and declares himself mostly convinced by the thesis that Stalin started WWII and intended to invade Western Europe [5]

Reading all these WWII novels written from the German perspective is making me increasingly sympathetic to the Nazi side. If only they weren’t so damn socialist. Churchill famously declared after WWII ended that “we butchered the wrong pig.”

If you’d like more anti-Jew rants I’m afraid you’ll find very little of it in my books. They are all about shagging hot white girls for free, which Jews appear to be unable to do without a casting couch or cocaine.

[1] I forget who. A pat on the back to you all the same, sir
[2] It turns out their funding of Western academia, unions, politicians, and feminists was far more successful in making Europe communist.
[3] Sven Hassel novels aside, which are hardly a documentary record
[4] Seeing as I’m part of the PUA industry and have a background in financial services, you can imagine I’ve been the victim of persuasive bullshit in my time and become quite suspicious.
[5] Stalin wasn’t a Jew but he married one and filled his Politburo with them.

#20 – Nietzsche, Michael Tanner BOOK REVIEW

This review is slightly out of sequence (it’s actually #25) but it’s fresh in my mind so I’m going with it. This book is from the Past Masters series, short introductory books for university students intended to cover the major thinkers in the Western canon.

Past masters

Never once spelled that right

I’ve long believed that understanding the personality, situation and background to a writer will tell you at least as much about his writing as the words he leaves on the page do. Nietzsche was a weirdo. Here are some choice highlights of his life:

  • His first book The Birth Of Tragedy was published when he was 27, was briefly subject to controversy within German university circles [1] and then he was pretty much ignored until after his death.
  • He caught syphilis from an Italian prostitute, which is what ultimately drove him mad
  • He resigned from his professorship long after students had stopped attending his seminars, such was the lack of interest in his work.
  • Despite falling on hard times and nobody reading him, he never stopped writing. He would frequently go back to his own older books and write his own self-critique of them [2]
  • He was convinced he had momentous ideas that the world ignored at their peril, ideas which would destroy the current basis of morality [3]
  • He once had 118 days of migraines in a single year. Ouch.
  • He began as a disciple and fan of Wagner, writing his first book to valorise him. Then he fell out with him (so passively aggressively that apparently Wagner didn’t even realise he had for several years) and wrote his next books as anti-Wagner treatises [4]

Nonetheless he seems to be taken rather seriously in certain circles so it behoved me to inquire a little into his ideas. I have mixed feelings about him now, though bear in mind this book is the only thing on Nietzsche I’ve read so I’m somewhat at the mercy of Tanner’s own understanding of the man.

Things get off to a bad start with The Birth Of Tragedy. Nietzsche shows himself to be as susceptible as anyone to the utter insanity of the post-Hegelian German intellectual tradition. This tradition seemed to mostly follow this little loop:

1. Fall in with one particular “name” philosopher who is either currently in the zeitgeist or is fashionably contrarian. Draw heavily from his ideas.
2. Recast history (“historiography” I believe it’s called) as being an eternal battle between two opposing grand concepts. For Hegel it was the master and slave, for Marx a materialistic version of the same, for Nietzsche it was epic vs tragedy.
3. Shit this nonsense over hundreds of pages of interminable obfuscatory prose intended to make you look clever.
4. Hope everyone in the coffee houses talks about it and your own name is advanced.


This kind of thing

This is what all these snidey gamma fuckers were up to and it’s left a horrendous pseudo-intellectual tradition of high-sounding gibberish behind them [5]. I suppose we can’t blame Nietzsche for it when he was 27 years old and absorbed in that way of doing philosophy. Fortunately he appears to have grown out of it.

He wasted lots more paper with Human, All Too Human but then seems to settle down a bit with Daybreak and moves away from pretension and towards coherent argument. Tanner outlines in chapter one that Nietzsche is ironically misconstrued by history due initially to his work being badly translated until 1950, secondly by him writing copious notes that are works in progress rather than completed thoughts which later writers disingenuously cherry-picked from to lend weight to their own opinions. Also, people seem to have linked him inextricably to the Nazis [6]. It’s ironic because virtually the last thing Nietzsche wrote was this:

“Listen to me! For I am thus and thus. Do not, above all, confound me with what I am not!” [preface to Ecce Homo] [7]

Tanner asserts that Nietzsche was not a proponent of the nihilism that made him famous. He actually feared it’s onset. Primarily concerned with how culture can deal with the preponderance of human suffering (remember Nietzsche’s life was full of suffering) he’d first tested his ideas with the historiography that epic plays ennobled humans but were unsustainable and that tragedies nourished the soul more effectively.

By the time of Daybreak he’d begun speaking directly of morality in the sense moral philosophers do.

“There are two kinds of deniers of morality… first, to deny that the moral motives which men claim have inspired their actions really have done so… [second] to deny that moral judgements are based on truths”

He states he agrees generally with the second, and sometimes with the first. His full paragraph is an awfully wordy way of saying (i) people claiming moral virtue are often insincere and (ii) there are no foundational ethics. Still, what do I know. I think these Germans are all full of shit and tie themselves in knots constantly [8].

Unlike Marx, Nietzsche doesn’t like the idealistic telos of the German tradition, the idea that history is progressing towards a greater goal. Marx famously built his epistemology on the proposition that all ideas in the superstructure are conditioned by the economic infrastructure, and thus we take as timeless and immutable modes of thought that are specific and conditional. Nietzsche seems to agree in broad strokes but without the inevitable movement forwards. It could just as easily regress.

His worry is that modern society has lost its originator of moral belief (God) and is thus drifting towards nihilism. He states this in Twilight Of The Idols about “the English” philosophers:

“They are rid of the Christian God and now believe all the more firmly that they must cling to Christian morality. That is an English consistency… We others hold otherwise. When one gives up the Christian faith, one pulls the right to Christian morality from under one’s feet. This morality is by no means self evident; this point has to be exhibited again and again, despite the English flatheads. Christianity is a system, a whole view of things thought out together. By breaking one main concept out of it, the faith in God, one breaks the whole: nothing necessary remains in one’s hands.

When the English actually believe that they know ‘intuitively’ what is good and evil, when they therefore suppose that they no longer require Christianity as the guarantee of morality, we merely witness the effects of the dominion of the Christian value-judgement and an expression of the strength and depth of this dominion.”

I’m inclined to agree and certainly believe it an accurate prognostication of the decline of the West into atheism and degeneracy. The human mind is swayed primarily through habit, herd-instinct, and rhetoric. By kicking away the supporting pillar of Faith, the free-thinkers set the stage for ultimate collapse and rendered the West easy prey to the satanists cultural Marxists from within and the more fanatically-held Faith of Muslims rival cultures.

But is this very clever, to justify Nietzsche as a great thinker? Evidently his contemporaries didn’t think so.


Now this is a problem of moral philosophy

Not really. This is a repeated pattern of human action. People adhere to a principle, live their lives based on it, come to believe they no longer need the principle, and behavioural inertia continues for a while to give the impression things are fine…. and then collapse. We see it everywhere. For example, the Feminists of the hippy era abandoned all the beliefs that held the family together but because those individual women had been raised under patriarchy, their pro-family behaviours held things together, mostly, until their own children grew up. The problem came when those children, raised without patriarchy, began forming (or not forming) families without having all the pro-civilisation patterned behaviours.

Thus we see the screeching harpies of the 1970s mostly got married, had a few kids, and stayed in the house their husband paid the mortgage on. The screeching harpies of the 1990s are crazy cat ladies.

This is just how people are. There’s always a group who don’t like societal strictures who will say “let’s just relax the rules, nothing will go wrong”. The rules get relaxed, things seem okay for a while, then we get the collapse which were the reason why we had the rules in the first place. The car drives in a straight line a little while after the driver has fallen asleep at the wheel.

I’ll restate that this is the only book on Nietzsche I’ve read, and thus I have far from a nuanced reading of him. But so far I’m very much underwhelmed. He seems like just another German pseudo-philosopher reheating a load of nonsense under impenetrable language. I had more than enough of Hegel, Feuerbach and Marx. I don’t need more trash.

If you’d like to see modern rationalist philosophy organised into a coherent readable structure that does not betray a syphilis-addled mind [9] then you’re best off reading Daygame Infinite. It is truly beyond good and evil.


Not this shitty Lefty French game

[1] In itself hardly a mean feat. Those pompous intellectuals were the manosphere of their day, gossiping like little girls over the fashion of the week.
[2] There’s a gamma tell if ever there was one.
[3] There’s that secret king thing again
[4] Funnily, I’ve experienced a low-rent version of this with former fan boys of Daygame Mastery casting me in the Wagner position. Many still write hate-fuelled long-winded comments on my blog despite them all wasting away in my auto-spam folder
[5] The French intellectuals did their own version last century which was just as awful
[6] I’m not sure why this would be a negative.
[7] Considering he was still unread and unheard at this point I don’t think anyone was confounding him with anything. Shades of gamma self-importance there.
[8] Just try reading Marx in his own words. Fucking hell, what a moron.
[9] Fingers crossed. Haven’t had an STD test in a while.

The 10 invisible barriers to daygame

The harsh reality of daygame is most men will never get it. That’s partly because most daygamers are an adversarially-selected bunch of weirdos (as indeed I was when I began) but mostly because it’s just an enormous ask:

Start talking to a hot young girl, who doesn’t know you, and then fuck her with nothing more than your aesthetic and charisma.

To pull that off consistently on girls younger and hotter than you is basically a super power. I’m surprised top players aren’t asked to be in the next X-Men. So while I was sitting in a cafe with Tom looking out over a nice FSU plaza, we reflected on a simple question: why aren’t more men able to pull this off?

I see all the hot girls walking around and I know that with a bit of effort I can get some of them. So that’s exactly what I do. What’s stopping all the other men doing the same? Why is it that despite hundreds of bootcamps, one-on-ones, seminars and at least a few thousand men going through the London Daygame mill I can literally count on my hands how many are good?

There are invisible barriers to daygame that aren’t mere technique and will be imperceptible to everyone below the intermediate (one lay a month from hard graft) level. These are the things that are no longer in my reality but used to be like a forcefield holding me back.

Where have all the overweight socially maladjusted men gone?

Where have all the overweight socially maladjusted men gone?

1. Sting of rejection
A girl’s reaction shouldn’t affect your sense of self. When she’s walking down the street with her headphones on and daydreaming of her next pair of shoes she’s not thinking of meeting men. Opening her well will usually shock her out of this but there will always be girls who brush you off and keep walking. Assuming she stops there’ll be girls who give you a “what do you want?” look and you can’t quite get rolling – so another rejection. Or maybe you get the compliment out and get the “thanks but no thanks”. Or you get excited with the number close and she doesn’t reply. The only two certainies in life are death and daygame blowouts. For as long as you feel the sting of it, you’ll find ways to avoid being in that position, which leads me on to……

2. Meta-weasels
…. the ego is ingenius in it’s ability to avoid damage. In addition to the usual street weasels (“she’s too hot”, “she looks busy” etc) are the lifestyle weasels that prevent you even being in a position to open a girl. Just recently Tom met a guy who appears to have the Euro-jaunt lifestyle set up but he seems to spend all day in a cafe reading books and not opening. It’s quite acceptable to go see the art gallery, the museum and the opera house on your first day but that’s it. A good daygamer is a piss-poor tourist.

You must want this more than photos outside the Opera House

You must want this more than photos outside the Opera House

3. Blowout streaks
Everyone has strings of blowouts. If you’re good-looking and confident they’ll be short strings that barely phase you but you’ll still get them. If you’re a short Indian chode opening Russian catwalk models blowouts are pretty much the only thing you’ll get. It’s quite dispiriting to have a run of good results, perhaps a few quality lays, and then suddenly every girl acts like you’ve sprayed on woman repellant. Daygame is about keeping many balls in the air simultaneously in order to pull off a magic trick. It’s so easy to drop a ball or too and then not even get a girl to stop for you. And then you’ll start doubting yourself. “Was I really any good at this? Does it even work?” The typical newbie daygamer doesn’t have the reference experiences or mental grit to push through these streaks, nor the self-diagnostics to correct whatever is causing the blowouts.

4. K-selected signals
Almost every daygamer wants to be the Nice Guy. He’s absorbed too many Disney fairytales and has turned to daygame to get the Good Girls and not those Nightclub Sluts. He’s kidding himself. The sexual market rules are always in effect. It’s always a darwinistic fight whether on the club or on the streets, and the girls are operating according to the same mating schema. Daygame is to nightgame what tennis is to squash – useless ill-coordinated slobs are going to fail in both sports. Daygame fools you into thinking you’re not in competition with all those other cool charismatic men simply because you can’t see them at that moment in time. No. Hot young girls always have options and you’d better be either (i) her best option or (ii) a side-dish she can’t otherwise get.
So drop your Disney fantasy. Daygame is dirty and animalistic.

Boyfriend material. No chance of SDL

Boyfriend material. No chance of SDL

5. Weirdness
For every cool daygamer I’ve met, I’ve met six or seven normal everyman types who have a chance to make it. For every normal guys, I’ve met a couple of weird freaks who have no chance at all. Like the LSS guy who lives in a tent in an Essex forest and has had three phone numbers in ten years – because he’s not only homeless but he looks and smells homeless. His stupid weirdo ego prevents him addressing the one obvious problem. Then there’s all the little Indian chodes asking me “how many sets I need before hot Russian girl become in my harem, Mr Krauser?” or the frame-control PUA freaks who “open” me with a Yad-Stop then completely ignore my friend while trying to get a free consultation. Just the other day I met such a guy and he had weird bug eyes and his shoulders looked like he was halfway through a shrug. He wasn’t physically deformed, just a lifetime of being weird had etches itself into his muscle memory. That can conceivably be undone but it’s a hell of a job. And until them every girl is thinking “ewwww!”

More than any other strategy, daygame is a test of how normal you are. Weirdness will always fall flat when there’s no alcohol, flashing disco lights or female super-horniness to mask it.

6. Nowhere leads
A combination of the other barriers listed here will tend to result in a guy getting phone numbers to nowhere. Now you are fully aboard the emotional rollercoaster. You get the sickening dread of approach anxiety, the euphoria of a girl hooking and chatting, then the validation of the number close, and then the dull let-down of her not responding. Inevitably you’ll obsess for days over it, trying to figure out the perfect recovery text. And finally give up. Get yourself a pile of these false leads and you’ll get into the “is daygame worth all this effort” meta-weasel.

7. Hack mentality
“Dear Tom. I love your book, perhaps I do one-on-one with you. Me your fan. Your infield very good!!!! So Mr Tom, where is easiest place to get laid?”

Everyone wants to avoid the market. Whether it’s a corporation shovelling cash in lobby groups, a feminist mandating alimony laws, an established PUA moving to “lifestle game”, or a noob looking for Pussy Paradise – the emotional driver is always the same: I don’t want to be subject to the rigours of the free market because it’s too hard / I don’t think I’ll win that competition. Combine this with the natural chode avoidance of making significant changes and you have the hack mentality.

The PUA cartel saw you coming and will sell you magic pills and 3 Secrets To Make Her Wet as long as your credit card is below it’s limit. If you’re looking to score something for nothing, you’ll end up with nothing. Daygame is hard. Very very hard.

8. Quality overreach
When you see a really hot girl with a boyfriend, have a good look at him. He’s not a short pot-bellied old man with a comb-over and ill-fitting Primark t-shirt is he? Hot girls only have sex with high value men. Now, as daygamers we are lucky that there is a carefully-honed system to deliver that value in a short space of time but….. the value has to be there. The single biggest piece of value a daygamer can have (and which at least 60% don’t have) is… a personality.

The fuck ladder is real. If you’re currently getting occasional 5s then you needn’t bother opening higher than a 6. By all means do so as an experiment in breaking limiting beliefs but know that you’ve got no hope in hell of fucking them. Go dig up a photo of the hottest girl you fucked in the last two years. That’s what you should be opening. If she’s a 5 then leave the catwalk models to the men who actually have a chance.

Good luck with that, fatso

Good luck with that, fatso

And yes, you probably bristled at the last two paragraphs. Going for turbo-hotties that blow you out is actually avoidance – you are avoiding girls you might fuck because getting blown out by the 6s is a bigger blow to your ego.

9. Spoonfeeding
The first generation of London daygamers figured it out for themselves. Tom, Jon, Antony and I were hitting the streets and trying new things. We’d experiment with how many steps to take before coming in on the front stop, what hand position, when to ask the name and so on. There wasn’t a Daygame Mastery out there for us to read so we figured it out for ourselves. That’s called self-reliance and it’s a universally attractive masculine trait. We also read whatever we could get our hands on and stripped out the goldust to incorporate into the model. At no point did we ever think somebody would just hand over the answer. That would’ve been weird.

We accepted that the world is a cold unyielding place and if we wanted to get sex, we’d better solve the problems put in our way. Now I look at some of the emails I get, or long rambling blogposts in the manosphere and it seems few people want to work for it. Wanting to be spoonfed is an entitlement mentality which will stop you improving.

10. First day abroad
Every one of the above barriers slams down hard when you try a Euro-jaunt. You’ve probably built yourself up over a few weeks while waiting for the flight date. This is it, pussy paradise, you’re gonna hit it hard. Burn the town with a crazy number farm and get some hot foreign birds! And then you arrive in your apartment, put down your suitcase and look out the window. Shit has just gotten real and all those insecurities rise up. If you’re not careful you’ll wig out and spend the whole trip buried in a cafe reading blogs.

They don't just fall into your bed

They don’t just fall into your bed

Daygame is not the easy answer to getting laid. There’s a reason more people don’t do it, and there’s a reason most people who do either give up quickly after the bootcamp honeymoon, or they are relentless weirdos who get nowhere. So when I’m sitting in a Prague pavement cafe looking at the hot teens stride past in hot pants and think “I might have a piece of that” it’s no longer a surprise to me that there’s not more men doing exactly the same.

If you want to learn daygame the right way and maximise your chances of success, check out my book Daygame Mastery


Regular readers will be familar with the female typology I cribbed off Alchemy42, namely:

      1. High beauty / High Esteem – the holy grail of pickup
      2. High beauty / Low Esteem – ditzy club psychos
      3. Low beauty / High Esteem – annoying cockblocks
      4. Low beauty / Low Esteem – Big Toe‘s girls

I have very pointedly aimed my game for type one girls because I like actual dating and thus want to be around girls who make me feel good and don’t try to fuck me around with their stupid games. I believe that honest direct game, especially street game, is the way to get these girls and then on dates you just take your time. Turn off the bullshit and let the girl see your value. However, type 2 girls are also useful on your journey in masculine development and not just because they are often great lays. Like a boxing prospect needs some testing fights against challenging opponents for him to elevate himself to contender status, an aspiring player needs challenging game-playing girls to teach him about women.

I have been lucky enough to have some such girls. Tall, smoking hot women who are in constant demand from men and have, due to daddy issues or whatever, learned to shamelessly manipulate them and break their frames.

      • Man-Eater: A tall leggy black English girl with massive fake tits and a £100k City job.
      • Button Nose: A tall leggy white English girl with massive natural tits and from extremely posh background
      • Russian Bear: A tall leggy white Russian girl who oozes sexuality and works as a hired gun for nightclubs.

You’ll probably notice some similarities between these girls. In each case, everytime I walked down the street with them on my arm, every single man’s jaw dropped, his tongue hanging out. Literally 100 times per hour. It was a great insight into these girl’s reality. They are being validated with attention, favours, and offers of cock literally a thousand times a day every day for years. No wonder they are difficult.

I didn’t fuck any of those three girls. Man-eater gave me a few blowjobs, Button Nose masturbated over sex chat and is dating me later this week, and Russian Bear let me put my cock halfway in before she spazzed out and I threw her out my house. No lay report on the later because I didn’t get my two strokes. But over the course of the chase I learned an incredible amount about frame control, shit tests, flipping the script, state control and so on. These girls helped educated me alot for when I encounter the girls I actually like.

JJ calls them “messers”. Girls who mess you around. The most important thing I learned from them is don’t date them. They are a siren song waiting to drown you on the rocks. Learn to recognise the warning signs and don’t waste your time.

An anniversary

Today was the 2nd anniversary of my wife walking out on me. The single worst day of my life. Or at least, that’s how it felt at the time. So, zoom forward two years and let’s look at how today went.

Bengali – I wake up 11am and after getting ready I’m waiting for Moran to get his shit together so we can do some free approaching coaching for some local forum guys. I strike up a quick Facebook chat with my 20 yr old Bengali target.

Bulgarian – My second demo set for the students is a lovely 23 yr old brunette dressed entirely in blue. I open her saying her tights have the same pattern as my grandad’s sweater. Strong hook. 15 minute set. We’ve been texting tonight to set up a date.

Uruguayan – I have a couple more weak demo sets then hook big time with a tiny 21 yr old throwabout who only arrived in London three days ago. I instant date her for a few hours (see video). Take the number, then I have to meet back up with Moran because he is trying to set me up with…..

Norwegian – A stunning 19 yr old tall blond girl. An easy nine. Moran pulled and SNL’d her equally hot friend on Wednesday and probably felt guilty for SNLing my target on Friday (a legendary night that might get it’s own post). So he feeds me this girl. Two hours later in a pub she’s pretty much climbing over the table to get me, unconsciously wanking off her pint glass as her eyes spazz out. We helped them choose dildos in a sex shop and then had some facebook sex chat.

English – The button nose girl from a legendary sexting is swapping texts with me again. I had her frigging herself to orgasm on Wednesday evening over the text messages. Maybe I’ll do a post on that later. 22 yr old. An eight.

Nigerian – The English-born man eater. I told this girl to delete my number a few weeks ago. I changed my mind and decided to LJBF her today. She agrees and says I should drop around her house sometime soon.

Lithuanian – This 21 yr old is gradually falling in love. She sent me another three sex photos tonight and future projected a sexual scenario for me.

Thai – My 23 yr old Thai who I’ve been dating for about 8 months now recently told me she wants to break up so she can find a normal boyfriend. She got drunk tonight and sent badly mis-spelled texts about how much she misses me. She’s lovely.

That was Sunday.

Five Girls, Five Days, Five Finger Fucks

Didn’t even realise I’d hit a personal record until I was singing in the shower this morning and it hit me: I am Tony Ferrino!

Monday: I’m with the (1) French girl on our last day of her visit to London. I fuck her when we wake up and then while out shopping I’m fingering her on the street. She’s giving me the doggy dinner eyes so I take her home, dress her in a Neo Genesis Evangelion costume with knee-high leather boots and fuck her again. She’s on the afternoon Eurostar so the (2) Thai comes over to fuck

Tuesday: I finally go on a Day 2 with (3) buxom black girl. Still can’t close her but I finger her in O’Neil’s bar in Chinatown and she gives me a blowjob in the taxi to her place. There’s a separate post coming on this date.

Wednesday: Travelling to Lithuania. No girl.

Thursday: Evening date with (4) Borat girl ends with me fingering her at the bus stop while she furiously rubs my cock. Too much LMR for the f-close this time.

Friday: Second date with (5) Finnish girl who I couldn’t even k-close on the Day 2. This date ends 4am in a dark alleyway with her wanking me off while I finger her. I f-close her the next night. Perhaps I’ll do a post about this date.

Sunday: I read the news. Wash my hair. Polish my shoes.

Plenty of other stuff going on too so maybe I’ll flesh out this post when I’ve got time. Got a couple more dates today so perhaps I’ll go six for six.

Another week in game

Monday – Daygaming with Suave. Five instant dates and a Day 2 with a little Japanese pixie girl I kiss closed last week

Tuesday – Day 2 and kiss-close the leggy turk

Wednesday – Solo daygame. Instant date / number close an 18yr old virgin who tells me about her first blowjob. Get a few more numbers

Thursday – No gaming. I’d bought Sonic & Sega All Star Racing

Friday – Second date with Turk. Finger fuck her in Caffe Nero mid-afternoon. Number close a model during bootcamp, bring my Thai over and fuck her.

Saturday – Five minute kiss close of black girl in Tube station on the way to teach daygame seminar. Date her that night and get coke-fuelled blowjob in the street. Also pick up new Jap girl in Starbucks during bootcamp infield and date her that evening before black girl turns up

Sunday – Lazy day. Facebook of Persian girl in M&S food court then f-close the Turk – on video.