My winter was another experiment in getting the fuck out of Dodge. Since becoming all unplugged and stuff I’ve become constitutionally incapable of tolerating the cold British winter. I’ve come to believe it’s against my ‘uman rights.
I looked it up
So I spent two months in Thailand with some friends then wrote a book about it when I got home in early February . Having spent time in the third world surrounded by trannies, Aussies, whores and mudslime I was rather keen to just chill out in Newcastle playing video games and reading paperback fiction. By March I was anxious to travel again.
Problem is, March is a shitty month. It’s just about warm enough that you know you could daygame, but not warm enough that you actually should. So I had the choice of either wasting my time on a jaunt, or feeling guilty for not going somewhere and doing something. I thought it through and booked two weeks in Prague.
Believe it or not, my goal wasn’t to get laid. Really.
Since the God Emperor won the presidency I’d been at a loose end over what to do with myself. Men need a purpose in life and some kind of project to work on. Shitposting and tweeting in the run up to the US election had been great fun and diverted me from the central issue in my life: game has become meh. As readers of Adventure Sex know , by the end of 2014 I’d reached the end of my Player’s Journey and was now just staggering around on autopilot without a grand over-arching goal.
Sure, I had goals: write a book, lose weight, finish all Skyrim guild questlines etc. What I didn’t have was a grand goal . Nihilism and hedonism will always be undercurrents to the player’s lifestyle but I’d at least had the progression and purpose of getting good with women. But now I was. What next?
Two months of debauchery in Thailand  was an exclamation point on the nihilism and hedonism. The last thing I wanted was to become an ex-pat loser in South East Asia, clacking sub-par brown skirt, telling bullshit stories on RVF to build rep points, and engaging in substance abuse with fellow forum-chodes and calling it “high value lifestyle”.
Frankly, I was worried that all this travelling and shagging had completely ruined my ability to make emotional connections. I wondered if the absence of accountability in my last eight years had made changes that can’t be undone. So I thought about it a while and decided to put it to the test:
Can I enjoy hanging out with pretty women without trying to shag them?
Prague was a natural testing ground because I know many women there who I’d already slotted but were now in relationships. They’d still chat to me on WhatsApp. I decided to meet four of them and hang out. Crucially, I wouldn’t try to fuck any of them again. I flew out in mid-March and as luck would have it Nicolas Drillman was there so there’d be some male company too.
Much of the first week was spent discussing life with the friendly Hun. He’s not much younger than me and has done plenty of Euro Jaunting and skirt chasing so we were on the same page. I expounded my current thoughts on daygame and in particular how to integrate it in a sustainable manner as you get older and less enthused with the thrill of adventure. We discussed meta-level models of human learning and how beyond a certain level of experience and competence, all skills are learned the same way and mindsets converge. We did some sets but it was cold, wet and miserable. Very few girls worth chasing and neither of us really care to do more than a couple of sets a day. By day four I didn’t even want to chase skirt.
I was testing myself. Do I enjoy Euro travelling even when I’m not chasing the skirt? Apparently I do. I had a nice apartment, a stack of paperbacks, and just walking around was pleasant. El Commandante visited form Turkey for a weekend so that too was nice. If I remember right, GG popped in for a few days too. Probably a couple of other men too – my apologies if I forget.
And the skirt?
Readers of A Deplorable Cad  will remember a Croatian girl called Zehra who I banged in 2012 and became rather sweet on. I hadn’t seen her since but she’d recently gotten a job in Prague and moved over, so we met for coffee on a Saturday afternoon. That coffee became another, then a walk, then dinner, then beers. We spent all of Sunday together too.
No, I didn’t try to fuck her 
My mind was put to rest. For nearly twelve hours I chatted with an old friend, rekindled our emotional connection, and we had a great time. At no point did I get the familiar feelings of “let’s just escalate and get on with the fucking”. There was also a nice highlight in Battalion Bar.
We were sitting on the high stool near the entrance with a bottle of beer each. I was explaining pizzagate to her, outlining the basic charges levelled against Hillary, Bill, Epstein, the Podestas, Alefantis and so on. I spent a while explaining how Trump had suddenly excluded Epstein from his social circle over a decade ago without explanation and then in his famous Al Smith roast speech following the third presidential debate he’d made an odd quip about Hillary 
“Hillary famously said it takes a village. Which is interesting, because in Haiti she’s taken a few”
That quip is incomprehensible unless you fill in two datapoints: (i) Hillary’s quote that it takes a village to raise a child and (ii) the allegations that Hillary intervened to save Laura Silby from child trafficking charges after she was arrested crossing the Haiti/Dominican Republic border with a bus load of unaccompanied children.
“Trump knows!” I told my Croatian friend. “That’s why his son Donald Jnr always looks like he wants to literally kill Hillary. It’s why she said he’d have them all hanging from nooses”
A burly Irishman at the next table chimed in.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but hear you mention Donald Trump. I have to ask you – what do you think of him?”
I knew where this would lead. His manner, his tone, and the fact he’d poked his nose in all suggested a typical SJW tactic: Politely inquiry intended to get to you formally utter crimethink, that they can then attack you for. You’ll see this in offices every day in the UK.
“I think he’s a hero. The only man in the world I idolise” I replied
The next five minutes involved him trying to maintain his calm (unsuccessfully) while pretending to earnestly inquire into my position and to helpfully point out where I’m mistaken. By then steam was coming out of his ears because at no point did I back down and recognise that Trump is stupid, or psychotic, or sexists etc. Finally he went into a rant about the Middle East.
“But Trump is going to start wars. He’s violent and dangerous. He said he wants to bomb the Middle East” he spluttered.
“No he doesn’t. He said he wants to destroy ISIS. He’s never beat the drum for war against any Middle Eastern country”
“He wanted war in Iraq!”
“No he didn’t. He’s on the record, on video, years ago saying the war in Iraq was wrong. He’s already avoided war with Russia. Believe me, if Hillary had won we’d already be in World War III. Trump was the only candidate on either side who was against war with Russia”
“but but but….”
“Hillary stated she wants Ukraine and Georgia in NATO and a No-Fly zone enforced against Russia in Syria. That guarantees war. Just look at a map – Russian cannot possibly accept NATO forces on it’s borders.”
It was at this moment his fat girlfriend chipped in, having been mostly silent. She told me how they’d both lived in New York and it was common knowledge that Trump was a racist who called Mexicans rapists.
“Trump was the exisiting immigration laws enforced. That’s really not extreme” I said.
“I had many very nice Mexican friends in New York. At least I’m not racist” she finished, flicking her hair in a triumphant flourish at unloading her big guns.
“I am” I replied.
The Irishman kicked off and needed his girlfriend to restrain him as he backed off out the bar. Looking at the Croatian girl I probably could’ve fucked her at this point, but it was against the plan.
If you like hearing the same basic story told in dozens of different ways then you’ll love my memoir series Balls Deep, A Deplorable Cad and Adventure Sex
 I still haven’t decided to release it as is, or fold it into a bigger memoir with the Euro stuff
 Well spotted. Yes, it’s an up-sell
 I suppose you could call that grandiosity
 Most of which was squeezed into the first week after which I had a rapid adverse reaction to the sleaziness of it
 Well, fancy that! Another up-sell
 She looked great, though. Slim, curvy, and still with her amazing hair.
 I’m pretty sure I’ve told this story before but I’m writing these posts with a different goal in mind.