Product Update – My Player’s Journey

March 20, 2016
krauserpua

I wasn’t just dicking around on Batman Arkham Knight this winter. Most days I went off to a nearby cafe and plowed on with my next books. Here’s a short video updating you all on the current progress and giving a sneak peak at how they’ve turned out.

* Eagle-eyed readers will see I’ve removed my previous post “Tom Torero Street Hustle – Review”. We had a chat and came to a mutually agreed conclusion. Thank you for your spirited debate but that’s now closed.

Spot The Same-Day-Lay

February 28, 2016
krauserpua

I’m not sure how many of my readership is old enough to remember the Sunday morning newspaper convention of “spot the ball”. At the back of the sports pages there’d be a photo taken from the previous day’s game but the ball was airbrushed out. Readers were encouraged to mark the correct ball location with an “x”, clip the photo, and send it back to the paper to enter a prize draw. Apparently there’s still internet pages doing it now.

A match, yesterday

A match, yesterday

Young or old, all regular readers are well acquainted with my predilection for reading between the lines and divining underlying patterns from a small number of nebulous signals mixed in with all the noise. It’s an important skill to develop on the streets – what signals tell you to open that particular girl? what signals is she giving you on the date to calibrate her. With that in mind here’s an easy one.

I recommend all daygamers run a pedometer app on their phones to track how far they’ve walked. It doesn’t help your daygame but it does hammer home just how healthy the lifestyle is. Yesterday I walked 21km (admittedly mostly in a circle around the ground floor of Palladium mall). Walking is the bedrock of all health and fitness. Daygame lets you eat up the miles without ever really thinking about it. Here are two consecutive screencaps from my pedometer*

Spot the SDL

Your task, dear reader, is to mark where I opened the dream set, the idate, the extraction, and the close

* Love that name. Reminds me of this

Daygame Guilt – A checklist

February 26, 2016
krauserpua

A big difference between day and night gaming is the ability to cordon off that area of your life where you’re “supposed to be chasing skirt” from the rest of your normal-person activities. The difference is like… ahem… night and day.

A nightgamer can set himself a couple of nights a week and he doesn’t switch on until he’s on his way to the bar / club. The poor daygamer could theoretically be “on” every moment he steps out the house. He’s in the supermarket buying orange juice and he sees a girl…. “go open her” says the notch-count hyena. Seeing as you can’t possibly open every cute girl you see, the result is daygame guilt – that feeling that you ought to be opening but aren’t.

It’s important to your mental health to keep that guilt in check.

Broadly speaking, those notch-count hyena whispers have different meaning depending on how long you’ve been daygaming and how good your results have been so far.

  • Beginner – The hyena is right. You probably ought to be opening more girls. In most cases beginners have not yet overcome avoidance weaselling and they do far less sets than necessary to eat at the YHT buffet. They don’t have enough experience of daygame or their own emotional rollercoaster to have begun identifying the patterns to their own weaseling profile.
  • Intermediate – You’re likely in a transition period where the hyena is both right and wrong in equal measure. You need to do a quick scan against the checklist to see which it is.
  • Advanced – You’ve earned the right to turn down approach opportunities without guilt-tripping yourself that you’re weaselling. You’ve fucked enough women from cold approach and overcome approach anxiety long enough that you’ve no reason to feel guilt. You’ve already climbed the mountain. Maybe you just aren’t in the mood today.

So what’s the checklist? Run through the following questions to produce a simple diagnostic report that concludes if you’re really weaseling, or it’s a legitimate guilt-free non-approach.

Should be opening

Should be opening

1. How long since you last got laid with a regular? – If it was recently and you’ve been plowing the same girls, then you’re probably meta-weaseling by filling your free time with girls and pre-emptively draining your hormones. In itself not a problem, but recognise it for what it is. Conversely, if it’s been a while then your hormones are probably very pro-notch and therefore any weaseling is likely real and in your head, rather than meta- and in your bloodstream.

2. How long since you closed a new girl? – If it was recently, you can rest on your laurels guilt free. At some point it’s fine to just cash in your chips and enjoy the hookers and blow with the proceeds. When a runner finishes the race, he has a shower and chills out a bit. He doesn’t immediately go back into training. If it’s been a while, chances are you’re weaseling.

3. How’s your health? – If you’re ill now or have been recently, then of course you have less fire to chase girls. That’s not a weaseling issue – you’re just a bit under the weather. Don’t feel guilty. It becomes meta-weaseling if you are living life in a manner that makes you ill to pre-emptively avoid feeling in the mood for daygame. For example, drinking heavily on Friday night so you can cancel Saturday’s daygame “because I’m hungover” is clearly a meta-weasel.

4. How’s your horniness? – Some days you wake up like Scrappy Do – “let me at em!” Other days you’re more like droopy dog. In the former case you shouldn’t be weaseling sets but in the latter case you have to accept that sometimes you’re just not much fussed about chasing skirt. Again, no guilt. There are other passions in life too. The easy test is to feel your dick while walking the street – do you have a boner? If all those pretty girls aren’t giving you a boner then hormonaly, this just isn’t your day. Relax. Don’t beat yourself up about it.

5. Are you getting IOI’d? – If girls are checking you out and you’re doing nothing, it’s a weasel. They are handing a warm approach to you on a platter and you’re doing nothing – you deserve that icky guilty feeling of knowing you let yourself down. But if you’re invisible to every girl today? Something in that delicate balance of style, vibe and location isn’t right today so your lack of enthusiasm is a sincere reflection of the uphill battle you have today. Don’t feel bad about it.

6. Is your mind wandering to pressing problems of a non-girl nature? If you’re waiting on the result of a job interview, or your brother is sick, or there’s some other problem gnawing at you then it’s okay to forget women and deal with that. Daygame success relies upon being in a very narrow zone. It’s tough. So if the real world is telling you “not today, you have other things to worry about” that’s ok. Don’t feel guilty.

7. How’s the weather? – Shit weather presses down on you and kills your vibe and results. Don’t expect to feel as fighty as you would in bright sunshine.

Should live to fight another day

Should live to fight another day

It sounds like I’ve just given you a bunch of excuses not to approach. Well, yes. The difference between a reason and an excuse is your own honesty with yourself when analysing it. If you’re on the streets anyway, you might as well throw out a couple of opens. Sometimes one good set will wipe away all seven of the above problems. But if you’ve got a few of those problems dragging you down AND your first few sets go shit….. it’s fine to call it a session and come back out again when you’re feeling better.

Over time your fightiness for daygame will ebb and flow. Often while at a low point you’ll not even realise that it’s a low point. You’ll mistakenly think it’s your fault, that you’ve become shit at daygame. I’m trying to tell you that no, there’s just a temporary confluence of factors against you. When they align in your favour later you’ll wonder why you ever felt like you’d become shit.

Why do I post this today?

My euro season began today and I did my first set since early November. I’m rustier than a gypsy’s garage door. I’ve been walking around thinking “meh!”. But I know myself, I know that back in November I was running around thinking “I love daygame! It’s the greatest feeling in the world!”

I haven’t changed. I’m just at a different point in the ebbs and flows.

The German Idealist Tradition in Philosophy and Daygame

February 18, 2016
krauserpua

I have deliberately refrained from using Game concepts and jargon in the following polemic because I want readers to draw their own connections between the concepts of the 1840s German tradition and their modern PUA-centric equivalents. There really is nothing new under the sun*

The greatest lecture I ever attended at university was given in the Politics faculty in 1994 and I was an interloper. I’d already signed up for all my elective modules that semester but I continued to peruse the course prospectus of each faculty to see if there was anything I fancied. I was hungry for knowledge, instinctively looking to feed my brain at that time of life when intelligence is most fluid.

  • Rousseau and Marx
  • An Introduction to Informal Logic
  • Marx and the Young Hegelians

Aha, those sounded good. The latter was a ten-week series of lectures on the main names from Hegel through Feuerbach and ending in Marx. I knocked on the professor’s door and politely inquired if I may sit in on the lectures without registering. No problem, he said.

The first of the lecture series I got to was on Max Stirner, a mediocre gamma pedant whose one claim to fame was writing The Ego and his Own. But what a claim! Marx and Engels (rival gammas) were so triggered by this book that they devoted three hundred pages of their The German Ideology to an ankle-biting rebuttal that wouldn’t look out of place on a modern internet forum. Why so serious?

Max Stirner, yesterday

Max Stirner, yesterday

I sat in my chair at the back of the seminar room, notepad open (a paper one, this was 1994). In strode said professor with his tweed blazer, handkerchief, and foppish hair. Imagine those writer picture shoots for J R R Tolkien or Dennis Wheatley and you’re about right. He was rather dapper. He then launched into a masterful 45-minute monologue explaining Stirner. I really wish someone had recorded it. It was one-part academic exposition, one-part human psychology, one-part reading between the lines of the German Idealist’s petty rivalries, and ALL PARTS zero fucks given.

I dare say it was a pivotal moment in my intellectual life. I looked at this guy and thought “Wow, that’s what an academic should be like”. I only wish I could remember his name. Stirner was the perfect foil for this performance and I think diving into his theory will hit all my daygamer and red pill readers with a sweet jolt of head-nodding satisfaction.

Stirner began in the Left Hegelian meeting group obsessed with the Hegelian concept of “alienation”. Put crudely, it means to be separated from your true self and this separation creates dysfunction and unhappiness. Marx would later assert that the capitalist mode of production (think Fordism, production lines, and now office cubicles) created alienation. The Left Hegelians asserted religion is a form of alienation in which the believer projects his own desired qualities onto a transcendant deity. Man is not created in God’s image, but God is created in Man’s ideal image. To overcome this alienation, it is necessary to reappropriate the human essence and to realise these ideal God-like qualities are actually Man’s own.

Stirner wasn’t having any of that, considering it pompous humanism that elevates Man to a new quasi-Religion. The concept of human essence is merely an abstraction and thus cannot be a standard to measure actions. Like all those other big abstractions such as God, State, and Justice, the concept of Man is nothing more than “wheels in the head”. Stirner celebrated the primacy of the individual, which he called the Ego, and we know ourself as the mental point of origin

“It is not that the ego is all, but that the ego destroys all”

We are not bound by great abstractions to serve the phantasmic causes of God, State, Justice or Man. Our only duty is to our Ego. “For me you are nothing but – my food, even as I too am fed upon and turned to use by you. We have only one relation to each other, that of useableness, of utility, of use” The Ego is not the only reality (i.e. Stirner is not a solipsist) it is the only one that matters to us. The ego is unique. Each individual is entirely single and incomparable: “My flesh is not their flesh, my mind is not their mind”. This leads to an atomistic conception of the self – we are each a sovereign island in the large sea of the world, rather than links in a chain. Seeing as we are not chained to our fellow tribesmen nor to grand abstractions we are thus unfettered.

“What am I?…. An abyss of lawless and unregulated impulses, desires, wishes, passions, chaos without light or guiding star”.

The ego is corporeal, of and in the real physical world. The products of the intellect or ideas can have no independent existence (scholars will note all the Young Hegelians pushed to invert Hegel’s philosophical Idealism that posited the moving force of history is the non-corporeal Spirit). Stirner has so far broken down the “brotherhood of Man” type philosphers and insisted on reducing the unit of importance down to the sovereign individal. Not unlike classic Liberalism, without the tether of grand abstractions such as Liberty. How he builds it back up is interesting.

This is the version I own

This edition of the Ego is my own

The Ego develops by becoming more aware of itself and other things as its property (again, very Hegelian if you replace “ego” with “spirit”). It can thus develop it’s ‘ownness’, its sense of self-possession. This means a progressive process of unplugging untethering from the matrix grand abstractions in order to make itself the mental point of origin its own. The Ego is a unity acting from a self-seeking will: “I am everything to myself and I do everything on my account.” Stirner thus anticipated Freud in his stress on the force of the desires to influence the intellect, and Adler in his description of the will as the highest faculty of the ego.

It is in the nature of the Ego to follow its own interest. Pre-figuring both Darwin and Dawkins, Stirner posits that altruism is a complete illusion. The apparent altruist is really an unconscious, involuntary egoist. Even love is a type of egoism: I love because love makes me happy. Conscious egoism is preferable to egoism disguised as altruism since it allows the development of the will, which gives one the dignity of a free man.

There are no eternal moral truths or values to be discovered in nature: “Owner and creator of my right, I recognise no other source of right than – me, neither God nor the State nor nature nor even Man himself.” We don’t even have a duty to ourselves because that requires separating the Ego into both a higher and a base self. The conscious egoist must choose what pleases him as the sole good. Enjoyment of life is the ultimate aim. This is not the same as proposing a hedonistic pursuit of short-term pleasure. Rather, whatever you determine your source of fulfillment is legitimate. Those grand abstractions cannot tell you what to pursue nor can they incept into you mind viruses that will twist your goals towards false ideals.

The Ego has no more moral calling than does a flower. It he acts, it is because he wants to. He is his own mental point of origin. He puts himself first and foremost always. Natural law, social contract, historical rights, moral imperatives, religious law – these are all grand abstractions. “What you have the power to be you have the right to… I decide whether it is the right thing in me; there is no right outside me.” The conscious egoist is thus beyond good and evil (prefiguring Nietzsche). Such concepts are grand abstractions.

“Away, then, with every concern that is not altogether my concern! You think at least the ‘good cause’ must be my concern? What’s good, what’s bad? Why, I myself am my concern, and I am neither good nor bad. Neither has meaning for me…. Nothing is more to me than myself!”

Even Freedom does not trump your Ownness. Society and State can take away your freedom but your Ownness is always in your control.

“One becomes free from much, not from everything…. Freedom lives only in the realm of dreams! Ownness, on the contrary, is my whole being and existence, it is I myself. I am free from what I am rid of, owner of what I have in my power or what I control. My own I am at all times and under all circumstances, if I know to have myself and do not throw myself away on others…. I am my own only when I am master of myself”

A man retains his ownness when he does not give his power away to others.

Freedom is not the goal – to make it so is to make it sacred, to elevate it to a grand abstraction and to thus tether yourself to a limiting force. Metaphysically, it is to sink back into Idealism. Man is constantly tempted to huddle with his peers around the security of such warming grand abstractions. The Ego must resist the urge because he will thus trade his Ownness for an illusory freedom. Serving Freedom as a higher cause is no better than serving God, State, Justice or Man – it is to slavishly perform one’s duty at the expense of self. All philosophies that promote grand abstractions of freedom are promoting a particular freedom – a one-size-fits-all freedom to be writ large across society. Stirner rejects this as a contradiction: It is only possible to be free if one acts with self-awareness, self-determination and free will. As an individual.

“All freedom is essentially – self-liberation – that I can have only so much freedom as I procure for myself by my ownness.”

The Ego looks on everything in the world as a candidate for ownership: “I think it belongs to him who knows how to take it, or who does not let it be taken from him” but it’s never a big deal. The only truly valuable possession is one’s ownness and that can never be taken. Whether a man succeeds or fails in the battle to own other things, he can treat the result “smilingly” and “with humour”. He is Stoic in his acceptance that each man’s power is limited.

Stirner rejects both State and Society (grand abstractions that tether the Ego and have no real existence outside a mass delusion). The matrix State has become a fixed idea that demands worship and tribute. It is utterly opposed to our individuality and interests. Its sole purpose is “to limit, tame, subordinate the individual – to make him subject to some generality or other…. it is an enemy and murderer of ownness.” There is no legitimate social contract. To claim the State has a legitimate right to rule and make law because it expresses the will of the sovereign (or the People) overlooks the fact that only the individual ego has a claim to sovereignty (again this blows close to classic liberalism and the constitutional republic).

“I am free in no State. No-one has any business to command my actions, to say what course I shall pursue and set up a code to govern it.” Society is a coercive association demaning each member think of the well-being of the whole. This well-being is another grand abstraction, beautifully captured by Ayn Rand in the trial of Hank Rearden in Atlas Shrugged:

Prosecutor: “Mr. Rearden, the law which you are denouncing is based on the highest principle – the principle of the public good.”
Rearden: “Who is the public? What does it hold as its good? There was a time when men believed that ‘the good’ was a concept to be defined by a code of moral values and that no man had the right to seek his good through the violation of the rights of another. If it is now believed that my fellow men may sacrifice me in any manner they please for the sake of whatever they deem to be their own good, if they believe that they may seize my property simply because they need it – well, so does any burglar. There is only this difference: the burglar does not ask me to sanction his act…. The public good be damned, I will have no part of it!”

What does Stirner suggest us to do?

“Why will you not take courage now to really make yourselves the central point and the main thing altogether?”

And if you disagree with Stirner and wish to argue he should agree with x social theory……… Who are you to tell him to tether himself to your grand abstraction? Who are you to lay claim to his ownness?**

* I’m working from Peter Marshall’s Demanding The Impossible for many of the quotes. He has a good chapter on Stirner.

** That’s a philosophical version of “GTFO”

Now is a good time to try my hardcopy books. Enter the codes FREEMONEY and LULURC at checkout for a big fat discount and free shipping.

Adventure Sex – Book Excerpt #3

February 15, 2016
krauserpua

Here’s the opening section of chapter nineteen for your perusal. The book is currently 152k words long (same as Daygame Mastery and Primal Seduction). These are 688 of them. Comments appreciated on the writing style, focus, quality of story-telling and so on. Again, I stress this is the draft version and may change.

I first met Masha in Dozari nightclub at the end of the third week in Minsk, after Tom had gone back. Including previous trips with Steve, it was the fifth time I’d been to the club and I’d done well on the other four occasions. It was Thursday night and both John and I felt up for a night out.

She was a 20-year-old brunette and ever so slightly chubby but as she was so young and buxom that she carried it well. She looked absolutely amazing with her clothes on, and it wasn’t until they came off that she looked a bit soft and podgy. She had big wide hips, a big ass, reasonable tits, long hair, very strong features and was quite tall. Her face was like a spanked arse – a proper pursed princess face, which is pretty but very haughty. Let’s call her a nightclub eight and a real-world seven.

We met while John and I prowled the club early in the night. I saw two girls perched near the top of the staircase leading down to the basement bar. One was sitting on a stool sipping a cocktail through a straw while the other was dancing half-heartedly. They had that looking-for-trouble vibe that best friends girls often take with them on a night out. I imagine they’d arranged it like this:

Masha: “I’m bored. Let’s go out tonight. I wanna have fuuuuuuuun!”
Dasha: “Yay! How about Dozari again? There’s lots of thirsty guys we can tool.”
Masha: “Free drinks!!!!”

John and I stood out so as we walked past the girls looked at us and we looked at them. It wasn’t really an IOI, more like mischievous kids sizing up an opportunity for mischief. So I walked over and opened them.

“Girls. The dance floor is over there” I pointed. “I think you’re lost.”

I talked to Masha and John talked to her friend. Right from the off, Masha was trying to tool me like a proper little nightclub princess. She was receptive at first but soon tried it on, attempting to turn things her way. She became challenging in her questions, which I just swatted out of the way.

“Why are you in Minsk? You have no reason to come here” she said.
“I like the weather”
“How old are you? This is a young people’s club” she said, pouting over her straw.
“I got lost looking for the library” I replied.

She wasn’t actively hostile as she was mixing in smiles and normal small talk but I could see her game. The little minxes probably had a bet on who would be the first to tool a guy tonight. I could see their eyes occasionally flick to each other.

I sat down on Masha’s vacated stool while she continued her sluttish gyrations and endeavoured to get my tongue hanging out like a hungry dog. Girls often try to lure you into being too forward and too thirsty. She looked sexy but I kept talking like I was oblivious to her charms. I was just a guy having fun. My eyes wouldn’t drop to her gyrating hips even once and this infuriated her.

“Dance!” she demanded, stepping back a little and pointing to a space on the carpet next to her.

I chuckled, shook my head, and let my eyes wander to look at the hired dancing girls on stage.

“Dance here!” she demanded, again.

For a brief moment I let my face get serious and I looked hard into her eyes, like I imagine a serial killer does as his fingers close around your throat in the final moments.

“I’m not your fucking puppy” I said, then went back to my fun-face. “Come on John, let’s have a look downstairs. Have a good evening girls!”

I gave them a smile and we rolled off. I could tell I’d scored a big hit. Her eyes flashed not with anger but with respect. The kitten had bitten the tiger and the tiger had briefly bared its teeth and them nonchalantly swatted away the annoying little animal. Masha was very intrigued.

How To Be Decisive

February 8, 2016
krauserpua

“I used to be indecisive. I’m not so sure now”

I was chatting on Facebook to Bodi this afternoon. He’s just wrapped up a trip to South America and is now visiting a friend in Asia. As he’s written about extensively in his suicide note book, Bodi is a chronic procrastinator. Back in London in 2013, before daygaming he’d often lay several t-shirts on his bed trying to decide what to wear and while I waited in the lounge impatiently tapping my foot, he’d be experimenting with more costume changes than a Janet Jackson concert.

So, indecisive.

I’ve always been exasperated by indecisive people. Life is really simple – decide what you want to do and then go do it. Don’t worry about failure. Don’t worry about what people think. Just do it*

That got me thinking about from whence decisiveness comes. It’s a fundamentally masculine trait. We’ve all seen how women just cluck and squeak, chasing their own tails until a man comes along and leads them. Why is that?

Bodi said his 2014/15 testosterone replacement therapy has made a massive difference in his decisiveness, such that he’s ended a dry spell by knobbing six birds in two months. Rather than sit around like a faggot on dates he’s been putting the moves on. Decisiveness.

So at least in part, decisiveness is influenced by your T-level. What else? I find it extremely easy to go out and take decisive action when an activity meets the following criteria:

  1. I really want it
  2. I have a vision of how success looks
  3. I know I have the ability (or at least have a path to develop that ability)
  4. The worst case scenario doesn’t scare me**

Applying that to daygame is pretty obvious. We want to fuck hot girls. We’ve seen on YouTube and Daygame Overkill how effective seduction looks. There are books that explain step-by-step how to develop the ability*** And of course it’s not too tough to mentally prepare yourself to accept the worst-case eye roll blowout. Add all that together and you can hit the streets and take decisive action.

A vision of success, yesterday

A vision of success, yesterday

Of course it’s not quite that simple, but that’s the crux of it. When I started daygame in 2009 we didn’t have anything for 2) and 3). You guys have it easy!

Those of you who also read Danger & Play and Bold & Determined (and if you don’t, you should at least try them) will note how Mike and Victor’s decisiveness shines through in the very language they write. They are also rather productive guys, always working a new hustle. I see many commentors marvel at their workrate.

Is that workrate really so impressive? Not really.

It’s the natural outcome of having nurtured their decisive mindsets. I’ll bet ONE MILLION DOLLARS**** that Mike and Victor don’t actually feel they are working especially hard. Decisive action is energising. You might as well be asking happy kids stomping around the sandpit if they are “working especially hard”.

I’ve had a very productive winter.

I’ve been working on a secret (non-pickup) side project that has consumed hours per day for months. I’ve almost finished writing a new 150,000 word book. I’ve been hitting the gym. I’ve read a book per week. And I’ve still had time to complete several big video games. In each case I didn’t rely on any “hacks” for time efficiency. I didn’t need a “four hour workweek” plan. I didn’t even need willpower. Instead I just figured out what I wanted, formed the vision of how the completed goal looks, and then walked towards it.

School and corporate life conditions you to believe a high workrate is the product of self-discipline, willpower and sacrifice. Only if you’re doing something you hate. If you want it and have the vision, you’ll take decisive action without feeling like it’s work at all.*****

* There’s probably a marketing slogan in that. I might trademark it.
** I should add that I’m so tough that nothing scares me. That bullet point was just for all my pussy readers.
*** Customary Daygame Mastery plug.
**** Of fantasy internet currency

***** Case in point is this blogpost. It took me fifteen minutes from conception to publication. I had unified the four criteria so the words tumbled out. Easy.

Adventure Sex – book excerpt #2

February 4, 2016
krauserpua

Thanks for the feedback so far. Here’s the next part of the same chapter (skipping a couple of paragraphs after the section in my previous post). Again I stress this is a draft, and has not changed since I re-wrote it a month ago.

I arrived in Serbia at the end of the first week of May, four days after Tom and a week before John. The sun shone brilliantly through the windows of the airport minibus and I found myself gazing at the afternoon city skyline, drifting into daydreams. It had been over six months since my last visit.

I alighted at the bus station by the river and dragged my suitcase up the bank towards the Old Town. That end of town – like most Central bus and train stations – is where the crazies congregate. In 2015 it would be a tent town as the fake refugees from “Syria” camped out and talked in Albanian and Turkish accents about all the welfare they’d collect and white women they’d rape when eventually landing in Germany. Back in 2014 it was more gypsy and Kosovan – slightly less menacing but just as squalid and dishonest. Skin tones noticeably lightened as the altitude increased, dragging that suitcase over cobbled backstreets thronged with street hawkers selling leather belts, old books, and other junk from atop milk crates.

The whole time I enjoyed building anticipation. I’d made this uphill climb many times before and knew what awaits at the summit. Once you reach the top you’re in White Town (figuratively speaking). That’s the old affluent area where all the people with good jobs (a rarity in Serbia) go to shop and all the young girls go to promenade. As so often happens in Belgrade, after enduring ten minutes of fat, brown, smelly gypsies with crooked teeth and shifty morals, I was suddenly blown away at meeting the full humans.

It was a sunny spring day and everyone was outside. I wandered wide-eyed by the university buildings. Hordes of hot young girls, all aged eighteen to twenty, milled around with their tight clothes, long legs and thick black hair. It didn’t matter whether they were sitting alone on a bench reading a library book or picnicking with friends on a grassy knoll, they were all broadcasting the same message loud and clear.

“Pick us up Nick! Please charm our knickers off and give us a rogering we’ll never forget.”

My landlord was a chilled university student with rich parents. He stood at the door smiling while I explored the little studio with its modern fittings, walk-in shower and a reasonably comfortable sofa-bed. I plugged my laptop into the flat-screen TV, connected to WiFi and gave him the thumbs up. Unlike Minsk, this apartment was not going to chip away at my vibe every morning. Belgrade is a far nicer place to live, even before you look at the girls.

Within ten minutes I was sitting on a rickety metal chair in Boutique cafe at the main square waiting for Tom to show up. He’d arrived four days earlier and gone straight to business. It had been a tough start for him, absorbing fourteen straight blowouts until the fifteenth girl had been an instant date, a Day 2 the next day around Kalemegdan fortress and then sex on his fourth day in town. He likes Belgrade but finds it a bit difficult compared to Russia, whereas I’m the opposite.

“Lovely vibe here, isn’t it” he enthused, wiping a smudge of green peppercorn sauce from this mouth and then diving back into his beefsteak.

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