I already did a little online due diligence on con-trepreneur Andrew Tate‘s kickboxing record, proving quite easily that he’s a liar. Go read it here. I don’t actually have a problem with Tate: as far as I’m concerned he’s a lolcow– that is, a public figure who exists purely for normal people to point and laugh at. If you are dumb enough to swallow his bullshit then you deserve everything you get. My problem is more with all the manosphere/Red Pill charlatans who keep inviting him on their shows and promoting this shabby liar. They have a duty of care to their listeners that they are flagrantly derelict in.

So, I wasn’t particularly invested in exposing all Tate’s other lies. The kickboxing record was enough for ‘umble Krauser.

However, while sitting in a cafe bored with Jimmy, I thought that as an experiment I’d see how many lies I could find about Tate in just five minutes of online searches. I’ve been saying for months that these Red Pill/Manosphere podcasters are outrageously negligent in not doing any due diligence on their guests. Or, more likely, they are complicit in the lies. So, in order to win a beer from Jimmy, I challenged myself to run a Five Minute Online Due Diligence Test.

Andrew Tate wouldn’t be a controlled experiment, as I already know about him and his whores, rented sports cars, grubby suburban compound, fake ForEx business, and so on. But, maybe he has a brother?

Oh, the indignity! Google records him entirely in reference to his big bro. So, let’s look into Mrs Andrew Tate a little and see if he’s engaging in the same false front building as his bro.

1. The Kickboxing
As you can see from his IG profile, he too claims to be a K1 World Champion. So, I searched for his kickboxing record and…. I can’t find it. His big bro was quite successful on the amateur/semi-pro circuit but Tristan Tate fought at such a low level that you can’t even find out who or where he fought. He may be the first K1 World Champion in history to have an unrecorded title fight! [1]. Jerome Le Banner must be really pissed!

Tristan is a kickboxer, though. Just not a top one. Watch this fight here:

Note how sloppy his technique is. Winging wide open punches, stumbling forwards, falling into his shots, and it’s like both of them are moving in Bullet Time. They are harder men than I am – no doubt about that – but this is not world class kickboxing. I respect guys who fight, but I repeat the same as about his big bro: the real story is impressive enough, so stop lying about it! Go watch actual K-1 Max to see what world class really looks like.

As for MMA, he had one fight against a nobody and got knocked out in under two minutes. No shame in that, but not indicative of a world class fighter.

VERDICT: Liar

2. Natty or Not?
Tristan has a habit of standing shirtless in car parks holding cheap Chinese-made swords. Presumably that’s what Musashi Miyamoto would be doing were he born in our epoch. There’s no question Tristan has a very buff, muscular body. So, imagine my surprise when he claims in his IG that he’s natty. Let’s do a before/after comparison. So, taking a still from the above kickboxing video we see how he looked after years of training, and compare that to a recent IG post, taken about eight years after the fight.

Not only has Tristan been the first ever kickboxer to have an unrecorded world title fight, he’s now the first ever bodybuilder to make his most significant natural muscle gains over ten years into his training. Not even Arnie could do that! Note also all the obvious testosterone / anabolic tells: grossly over-developed shoulders and upper arms, traps eating his head, glowing leathery skin tone, extreme muscle fullness at low body fat percentage. It’s pretty damn obvious.

VERDICT: Liar

3. Buying IG followers
The Tates would have you believe they have built organic social media followings based on good content, networking, or some other social media magic. However, the fastest and easiest way to grow your online follower stats is to simply buy them. We can test for that by checking out Social Blade, a web analytics site that analyses social media accounts to track when followers were added and lost. The obvious tell for bought (i.e. fake) followers is that you get a massive spike for a day or two, then gradually haemorrhage followers. So, let’s look at Tristan.

Oh! What a surprise!

VERDICT: Liar

4. Planting articles
Did you know that there are blogs and “news” sites whose business is entirely about accepting money to plant articles on their site? Forbes magazine does this, taking money to run puff pieces, a trick used by many high-budget con-trepreneurs. But what if you’re low-budget, struggling to get by in the suburbs of a third-world shithole like Bucharest? What if you can’t afford Forbes?

Fiverr and Upwork are your friend. For $10 a go, you can get some Indian or Filipino to write a puff piece on you in broken English then plant it on these fake sites. But why would anyone do that, Nick? Why would anyone lie on the internet?

It’s to paper the first page of Google with articles you control, so that if anyone does Google you, you get what they want you to see. It’s a way to push a false narrative [2]. So, let’s Google Tristan and see what pops up.

Oh!

So, he’s planted essentially the same article a half-dozen times on fake news sites. Some of those sites even explicitly state they publish any old shit if paid.

VERDICT: Liar

All of the above took me just five minutes to find. That’s all it would’ve taken Troy Francis, Hardy Haberland, Rollo Tomassi, Bobby Dino et al to know that they were inviting a liar onto their shows. It’s all it would take you fucking goons [3] to figure it out, rather than ask me questions in the comments, “what do you think of this guy?”

Is Tristan a cool guy? I don’t know. Scrolling through his IG I’m actually inclined to think he’d be a lot of fun to hang out with. He’s a competent amateur kickboxer, works hard in the weights room and kitchen, and is pro-actively going after the lifestyle he wants. He seems pretty chill too. A guy like that is normally fun to hang out with.

But, would I buy any of his products? Would I take him seriously on any issue whatsoever? Absolutely not. His entire public image is a false front, built with shameless, premeditated lies. He’s a bullshitter. Bullshitters are often good crack to go drinking with [4] but you never let them near your wallet.

I haven’t gone into Tristan’s hookers, staged photo shoots, or sock puppet accounts as that would’ve taken more than five minutes. I think I’ve done enough to demonstrate that lies and bullshit are a persistent feature of every aspect of his life. You can draw your own conclusions over if he’d also lie about his sexual hijinks.

[1] I shall now update my IG profile to claim the WBC Super Middleweight title.
[2] I experimented with exactly this tactic for my band.
[3] It’s been a while since I insulted my readership. I was starting to think you miss it.
[4] Tom Torero and Antony Hustle are both engaging company in person, for example.

I often wonder why I never took my health and fitness seriously before. It’s probably not hard to figure out. My parents haven’t worked up a sweat in their lives [1] and are both rather bookish and non-physical people. The same goes for my extended family, and thus I had no physical role models as a child and no guidance in this area. Additionally, they eat badly and rely on being naturally slim. No-one ever taught me to eat well and it never occurred to me to figure it out for myself in a systematic way.

English culture doesn’t help any either. I started drinking in pubs from fifteen years old and it was absolutely normal to crank out eight pints of heavy beer on a Friday night then get a takeaway pizza before the last bus home. And then do it all again on Saturday [2]. Somehow I went from a skinny 126lb 16-year old to a 175lb lard-ass at the end of my first year of university without putting on a pound of muscle in the interim.

I distinctly remember my New Year’s Resolution midway through my second year at Uni was to reduce my drinking to just four times a week. I cut it further the next year, added in some jogging and cardio and, being young, I was able to slim right down to 147lbs very quickly. After a couple of years working in London I was up to 160lbs – this time with a bit of muscle- and I stayed around that weight right up until 2014.

By then I was in decent shape from fight training and a haphazard attempt to eat more healthy. Then, when I moved out of London in April 2014 everything unravelled. I always ate out, didn’t train regularly, drank far too often, and eventually ballooned up to 190lbs at the beginning of 2017. I held constant at a fat 183lbs until July 2018 when I began this two year body transformation.

I’ve written here in detail about my first year. This is an update. So, without further ado, let’s look at the before/after pics.

The studio photo was taken a month ago when I weighed 165lbs (I’m 171 now, about the same body fat) and- dare I say it- I’m in a mighty fine fettle. If you look closely you can see visible abs. In the right lighting and right posture, I even have a visible six pack [3]. There was no gym pump for that shoot, so I look slightly better during a workout. That’s all small potatoes, the point is the contrast with the rather awful before picture (the only reason I still have the before picture is that it actually flattered me alot so I never deleted it!).

I never expected to reach this level of aesthetic at my age without using testosterone injections. My expectations have been far exceeded and I’m thrilled at my progress. What was even more surprising was the impact of my body recomposition on my face.

Look at these before/after pics.

Again, it’s not quite comparing like-with-like because one is a selfie and the other a studio pic. However, the studio portrait is not photoshopped. I really do look like that. It’s shocking how old and battered I used to look. Now my skin is smoother and glows with health, most of my wrinkles are gone, and I have clearly-defined facial bone structure including the all-important jaw line. Again, expectations are exceeded.

So, what is my protocol, you ask?

1. Diet
After much experimentation with my personal trainer, we have settled on what we consider optimal for my body and goals. From Monday to Friday I eat 2,000-2,300 calories with a macro-nutrient target of 150g carbs and at least 180g protein. The carbs are below maintenance to reduce water retention and bloat. Then on the weekend I do a big carb refill, aiming for 400g on Saturday (rice, potatoes, bananas, bread) and 600g on Sunday (try to eat real foods but hard candy and low-fat ice cream is okay if I’m struggling to hit target). There’s no calorie limit on the weekend but I don’t eat more than I need to hit the carb target.

This is a carb super-compensation and the rationale is to deplete my glycogen through the week so that my body over-compensates in carb absorption on the weekend, while the weekly carb total isn’t too far above maintenance overall. I find my weight fluctuates predictably in a 2kg bandwidth doing this. Visually, I look a bit flat by Saturday morning and pumped my Monday morning. My endurance is notably improved on Monday too.

My goal is to keep doing this, inching my lean gains upwards.

2. Gym
I continue to train four times a week, under supervision of my PT every session. We do a weekly split of Back on Monday, Chest on Wednesday, Arms on Friday, then Legs and Shoulders on Saturday. Due to all the Corona lockdown bullshit, I’ve been forced to do nine weeks of home workouts year-to-date and missed two weeks entirely. That required remedial work upon returning to the gym, to get back up to my previous PBs on the usual split routine.

My sessions are usually two hours and consist of:

• Warm up and stretch
• Weight lifting (the meat of the session), 6-7 exercises, 3-5 sets each
• Abs, usually 2 exercises, 4 sets each
• 15 minute cardio on treadmill
• Cool down and stretch

Except for a week off at the beginning of Serbia’s March lockdown, and another week off upon returning to the UK in early June, I haven’t missed a single session all year. Those rest weeks were probably helpful too, as both times when my body realised I was taking a break it immediately shut down and went into recovery mode.

So, do I have any miscellaneous thoughts from what I’ve learned this past year? Of course. But first, a comedy fat bastard picture.

A. Personal Trainers Are Indispensable
I’ve now spent a full year with my coach and don’t regret a moment of it. It’s astonishing to me now to think I went my first year of training relying on the internet and a friend’s advice. That worked out okay, but the past year has been a quantum leap in taking my training towards optimal levels. I learned how to do each exercise properly, how to do the correct rep ranges and loading, how to sync it with diet, and then the additional fact that my coach pushes me harder than I can push myself. It’s been a revelation and I recommend everyone who can afford it to hire a coach.

It’s not unlike daygame in that respect. Loads of cheapskates figuring they can do it solo and then wondering why they have shitty technique. It’s the Dunning-Kruger effect in motion. They don’t know what they don’t know, just like I didn’t when I started lifting.

My advice on choosing a coach is the same as it is for choosing a mentor in any other area: find a guy who already has what you want, then ask him how he got it.

B. Testosterone is (mostly) a mug’s game
Synthetic testosterone is available over-the-counter in pharmacies in Serbia, and costs about £2 for a week’s supply. Yet I’ve never taken any despite training here for a year. Why? Well, I was very tempted in the beginning when I didn’t yet know what was possible naturally, and I was impatient as all hell. I’m very glad I chose against it.

Drug abuse is rampant in gyms and often the juiced guys don’t even look very good, so you have to learn to spot the androgen tells before you realise who is on it. I’ve noticed that very few of the juiced guys look good, for the following reasons:

• Most are idiots who use it as a short-cut and never bother learning how to train properly, or discipline their diets. So, they have over-developed arms and shoulders, fat guts, weak legs, and poor posture.
• Those who do train smart look great for a while but then….. keep going. They get way too big and push well past the aesthetic optimum. Presumably they are so thrilled with getting bigger and stronger that they just fall in love with “more” and keep pushing.
• You can’t stay on it. At some point all the toxins accumulate and you have to come off-cycle, at which point you rapidly lose over half of your gains. Your hormones plummet, your mood plummets, and your body visibly melts. To do a proper PCT to return to healthy levels, you need to be off-cycle for as long as you were on. By then, you look as if you’d never even taken testosterone. It was all a gigantic waste of time.

I can think of a narrow range of situations where injecting testosterone is a good decision. First, if you have abnormally-low levels naturally which is messing up your moods and prevents natty training from adding muscle. Second, if you’re suffering reduced levels through ageing (i.e. you’re mid-40s onward) and don’t mind staying on it for- quite literally- the rest of your life. That makes you awfully vulnerable, but I can see the rationale.

What isn’t smart is doing it for the reason nearly everyone actually does it: as a short-cut to looking superhuman for a few years, before the consequences catch up with you and you look shit for the rest of your life.

C. Most people don’t train hard
I’ve spent enough time in gyms now to spot who comes in to talk, and who comes in to train. If you’re running your mouth [4] or taking phone calls, or texting between sets, then you really aren’t trying. Proper training requires focus, and that means no distractions. I’m even suspicious of people who listen to music on the treadmill now.

If you’re training hard, you should really feel it. You should sound like a women’s tennis match on half of the machines, and should frequently stumble away at the end of your set with a lost look on your face. You should be red faced, huffing and puffing, and dripping with sweat. Otherwise, you’re half-assing it.

Don’t feel bad. Nearly everyone else is half-assing it. Including more than half the lads on steroids. I’ve watched the juiced guys carefully and it’s amazing how many do their entire routines while keeping up conversations, and never sweating. Ridiculous. If you are going to hurt your health with androgens, you might as well train 100% so you get the maximum gains on the minimum dosages.

D. Smart training is incredibly beneficial
My coach tells me what to lift, and I lift it. That’s the limit of my thinking in the gym. Every other atom of brain power is channeled into focus and willpower. It is commonly said that intensity plus consistency equals results. I agree. Don’t fall off the diet wagon, don’t skip gym sessions, and always give your all. If you do that, you can make massive progress.

I’ve really felt the loss from my lockdown-induced setbacks. It takes time to get back up to pre-lockdown strength and conditioning levels. If you’re half-assing it with inconsistent discipline, you are like that all year. No wonder most people make no progress.

Those are some of my thoughts. I don’t pretend to know everything, but I certainly know way more than I did two years ago and my own transformation is good enough to prove I’m doing it at least mostly correctly. It’s been absolutely worth it.

Girls say “nothing tastes as good as slim feels”. There’s the male equivalent. I only spend 2-2.5 hours in the gym, 4 times a week. That’s really not a big time investment. And yet the benefit is that I feel great 24/7 for 365 days a year [5]. The years have dropped off me. I go through each and every day with vim and vigour.

What, you want another comedy fat bastard picture?

If you’d rather learn how to daygame, pick up Daygame Overkill here.

[1] Except, presumably, for the obvious
[2] To do otherwise would be to invite suspicions of homosexuality
[3] I call this my Special Situations Six Pack, visible only in the locker room mirror at my gym, and only then when I’m pulling up my trousers and thus optimally flexing all my abs. My SSSP hasn’t been documented outside of this very contrived situation but I’m hopeful of the future.
[4] Except on arms day, which doesn’t take much out of you aside the arm muscles themselves
[5] Except that time I had a can of spoiled tuna and shat myself

Long-suffering readers are well aware that I never release my books on schedule. Some would argue it’s because I’m a lazy cunt and they’d be right but my attitude to writing is “it’ll be done when it’s done.” I am not a workaday writer who can sit at his keyboard from 9am and tap away like it’s an office job. I admire those who can, but that’s not me. I’m dependent upon inspiration. I feel my creative tanks fill up until the pressure reaches bursting point, then I sit at the keyboard and words pour out. After a few days, the tank is empty. I’ve tried forcing myself to stay at the keyboard but it’s like dry-retching after a hefty chunder [1].

So, I write in spurts.

You’ll be please to hear, then, that the sixth and final volume in my epic pick-up memoir- Uberkrauser [2]– has now officially hit the half-way point of 75,000 words. That breaks the back of it. If you’ve tried writing yourself, you’ll know how intimidating blank pages can be. Even more so if you’ve committed to the project so the book must be written.

That’s how I felt early this year, after having procrastinated all through late 2019 and failed to begin the final volume. It would be embarrassing to have volumes 1-5 and 7 published and then never get 6 out the door. “Nick’s lost it,” people would whisper, “he went all George RR Martin and couldn’t finish what he started.” Equally intimidating was the quality issue: could I write another 150k words of blather about the same old shit without it reading like one of Tom’s being boring? [3].

So, all through the first 75k words I was wondering if I’d do justice to the stories or whether Uberkrauser would be forever known as the “last season of Game Of Thrones” version of a pick-up memoir. I’m pleased to report that I’m happy with the quality and my sole test reader says it’s the best yet. For the first time, I’m confident the book will be finished eventually.

Phew!

The tone is set, the book is moving, and now I just need to keep plugging away. It’s parked for now so as to let the creative tank refill. I’ll probably get back on it in a couple of months.

If you’d like to crack on with my memoir then start at the beginning with Balls Deep here and slowly work your way through the pack.

[1] I’m aware that comparing my prose to vomit is not ideal.
[2] Working title
[3] If you’ve read the other six volumes, it evidently worked out okay so far.

Coincidence is a funny thing isn’t it? Just the other day I was saying to my pal, “it’s ages since I’ve heard about Andrew Tate. Has he not topped himself yet?” and then, just minutes later, a reader sends me a message about him.

Well, technically, the message was not about Tate himself but rather about one of his many online sock puppet accounts he uses to create the illusion of credibility. But before we get to that, let’s look at the man’s official accounts and do some simple online due diligence on one of his oft-repeated claims.

That’s a damn impressive bio isn’t it? K-1 World Champion. The world’s premier kickboxing event, held in Japanese stadiums such as Saitama Super Arena and Tokyo Dome, with crowds of 30,000+ and then televised on Saturday night TV at peak viewing times. Those champs were stars: Ernesto Hoost, Peter Aerts, Semmy Schilt, Remy Bonjasky. True champions. Fantastic professional fighters.

So, I was curious which K-1 World GP Tate had won. I hadn’t personally attended a K-1 live event since the Bob Sapp era. I think the last GP finals I went to was when Kaoklai knocked Might Mo spark out with a flying kick (Hoost won the tournament). Well, I’m sure Tate’s kickboxing record will enlighten me…..

 

Ah!

He fought one fight on a K-1 card, in China, against somebody called Wing Ding [1]. As his only K-1 fight, that must be his championship. It seems the old adage of “I’ve never met a wrestler who wasn’t champion of something” would also apply to certain kickboxing circuits. Still, Tate won. Good on him. Beating another trained fighter in man-to-man combat is not an easily-done thing. So, I was curious just what his “4x Kickboxing World Champion” claim was based on. Clearly, it wasn’t the K-1 I knew and loved. So, I perused his record further as you can also at the above Wikipedia link.

I’ll be fair, it’s a statistically impressive one of 44-9 (34). Better than my own shitty 3-2 (0) on the Tokyo amateur circuit, by quite a margin. But as Teddy Atlas says, “boxing isn’t about your record and how many knockouts you have. It’s about who you beat.”

So, who did Tate beat?

Scanning his record you can see he came up on the UK regional circuit (semi-pro/amateur) and, as the wins piled up, he ventured to France, Belgium and a little further afield to Macedonia and Slovakia. Conspicuously absent are the professional kickboxing strongholds of Japan, Thailand, and Netherlands. The one time he tried Netherlands, he got sparked out inside a round. Now, don’t get me wrong, there is nothing to be ashamed of in this. Everyone loses. It takes balls to get into the ring and dedication to get yourself to a level where Dutch promoters even invite you onto a card. Tate’s record does not suggest he’s a soft lad. Quite the contrary. But I was still looking for some evidence that would support his much-ballyhooed [2] claim to be a professional world champion. The centre forward of Stalybridge Celtic is ten times the football player I am, but he doesn’t write “Ballon D’or winner” on his Twitter profile and pass himself off as Cristiano Ronaldo, does he?

 

 

So, I found Tate’s first title-winning fight- the first X of his 4X claim- on YouTube against Jean-Luc Benoit. This is for the ISKA World Full-Contact 81.5kg title. It was a rematch from three months earlier, where the Frenchman took a twelve-round decision. Wikipedia has Tate winning inside eight rounds, though this is the only footage I could find of it [3]

Note the venue is a little smaller than Saitama Super Arena. You could be mistaken for thinking this is a small-hall semi-pro event.

There’s a lot more footage online of their first bout in France. Watch it below to see what “world class” kickboxing looks like on the semi-pro circuit. Tough guys, no doubt, but we aren’t looking at Floyd Mayweather Junior silky skills, or conditioning, are we?

So, I think the evidence is pretty clear. Tate’s world titles are closer to the FA Vase than the Champions League. It’s still an impressive achievement, so why try to spin it into something it’s not? On the subject of spinning a fantasy on social media to pretend you’re something you’re not, if people are interested I may do a follow-up post on his pick-up credentials.

Now, I’m going off to watch Saenchai and Buakaw fight for real world titles. Maybe I’ll email some of those manosphere podcasters and ask why they don’t do any due diligence before inviting that bullshitter onto their shows to big himself up as a K-1 World Champion.

If you’d like to purchase my products before the inevitable shitstorm hits, you’re probably best off starting with Daygame Overkill here. No third-world webcam whores were hired to pose as notches in the making of this video, nor hire cars passed off as my own.

[1] Liang Ling, actually.
[2] By himself, and apparently believed by all of the usual gullible manosphere podcasters

[3] I’m not for a moment suggesting he didn’t win inside eight. There’s another short camera-phone clip on YouTube of Benoit raising Tate’s hand, post-fight.

Right then dickheads. I’m sitting on a public bench in London, waiting hours for a train. Everywhere is shut, except two poxy takeaway coffee joints [1]. Naturally, I’m not allowed to sit inside and wait, like a normal person. Oh no! My arse will not be treated to a cushioned seat today. What a bag of shite. Having been in Belgrade the past four months the whole let’s-be-faggots-in-England Covid restrictions passed me by [2] and it takes some getting used to being suddenly reminded of them.

But it’s not all bad, is it? I just scoffed a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich, and the latte served by the aforementioned poxy cafe was actually pretty good. I’m gonna be playing Metro Exodus on a 48″ flat-screen TV the moment I get back to Krauser Headquarters North [3]. In fact, my mood has improved considerably in the space of just two paragraphs.

That’s emotional control for you, lads.

Things are all a little coincidental of late. Roy Walker was booked to come over to Belgrade for a long weekend [4] and then Jimmy Jambone was roped in too. By the wildest of coincidences they booked a flight that would land approximately fifteen minutes after my flight out of Belgrade took off.

Those crazy lads! What a coincidence! [5]

As if that’s not enough Mr White and Xants were due to meet me for a coffee as I passed through London but then by the wildest coincidence, they suddenly got a load of work on and can’t quite make it.

So I’m sitting in the train station in the ghost town of London, having only been in the country for two hours, and some lad comes up and asks, “are you Nick Krauser?”

Frankly, I’m not even sure any more.

Anyway, that’s all just a pointless digression to fill a bit of space before I link the final video I appear in from last summer’s The 21 Convention in Warsaw. Here I am with the Red Man Group pontificating on all kinds of things.

If you’d like to donate to #Krauser’sLifeMatters so that I can get myself a new TV and pair of Nike Jordans, please contribute $199 to Daygame Overkill here.

[1] Whose free Wi-Fi I’m using, so I’m every so slightly grateful.
[2] And, fucking hell, the disgusting multiculturalism really hits hard after four months around nothing but proper people.
[3] Mum and dad’s house.
[4] However much you are missing daygame, you are not missing it as much as him. I can assure you.
[5] It was, right?

Who here still watches Fake News? Who even still has a television with an aerial connected to it [1]? For some people, particularly very desperate PUA coaches, being “on TV” is a major life goal and they’ll absolutely humiliate themselves for a chance to pitch their wares on the commie-box. I’m not one of them [2]

So, imagine my surprise when one of their ropers producers sent this innocent little email asking me to appear on their show [3]. Here’s how that went.

Eddie from Street Attraction got a similar email and showed them a similar decided lack of interest in being featured by the Bolshevik Broadcasting Corporation. Most of you know what followed. The programme turned out to be a hit-piece (like literally every other show they’ve ever done on pick-up) in which they sent a closeted soyboy undercover on a Street Attraction bootcamp to record some footage they could twist into an attack on PUAs.

I’d be surprised if any of this is news to my readers. In fact, i seem to remember some epic faggotry within the daygame community as soyboy daygamers ran around in circles screaming “Noooooooooooo! Daygame is finished now! We’re all doomed!” A few particularly cowardly faggots immediately bent down and grabbed their ankles took down their YouTube channels.

The whole BBC thing soon blew over, having mostly failed in it’s objectives. The programme did not go viral and it got so epicly down-voted on the BBC website that they had to sneakily re-upload it twice to remove the accumulated down-votes and negative comments [4]. So far as I can establish, the total battle damage suffered by the daygame community was as follows:

1. The Glaswegian-based daygamer Addy was sent to prison on trumped-up public order charges.
2. Street Attraction’s channel was deleted.
3. Other channels had certain videos deleted (YouTube took down my two Kiev SDL infields)
4. And to show it wasn’t all bad news, I’m sure we were all pleased to see Australian scammer Bradicus had his entire hookers-pretending-to-be-notches channel deleted [5]

I consider Street Attraction’s deletion to be the only real loss there [6] as they had probably the best daygame channel that has ever existed. Other than that…. meh. However, just because the BBC mostly failed in their attack doesn’t mean we should just let them off the hook. We shouldn’t let them erase the attack from history, or control the narrative over what they did. So, when I got an email yesterday morning from a small YouTube channel creator who had produced a whopping FOUR HOUR documentary on the BBC programme, asking me to publicise their work, I thought I might just do that.

Here’s the first episode:

What do I think?

It’s alright. I’ve watched two hours of it now and mostly agree with the points raised. The format is that Red Pill Rights will show a segment of the BBC programme and then compile the reactions / analysis from a half dozen daygame-friendly YouTubers on that segment, then move onto the next. Generally, I found the featured YouTubers rather more tolerant and compassionate than your ‘umble Krauser here tends to be. Thus they make some points that never would of crossed my mind [7].

Is there anything I think is missing from the documentary? Yes. There is an extra layer that could have been added to it, perhaps in a fifth part, that places the BBC attack into the wider theoretical context. Watching the RPR documentary, it’s easy to get the feeling that the BBC are simply a bunch of cunts who have an axe to grind with pick-up artists and dating coaches.

This is, of course, entirely true. The BBC are 100% cunts. But this attack was actually something very specific and far more widespread than just one show. It was an SJW attack, and thus exactly followed the stages of the SJW attack pattern as laid out in Vox Day’s excellent book SJWs Always Lie. So, what is the pattern? Well, sir, I’m glad you asked.

1. Locate or Create a Violation of the Narrative.
2. Point and Shriek.
3. Isolate and Swarm.
4. Reject and Transform.
5. Press for Surrender.
6. Appeal to Amenable Authority.
7. Show Trial.
8. Victory Parade.

The BBC attack didn’t work out as they planned, because the daygame community didn’t play ball, but most of the attack pattern was completed. Let’s map it over to events as best as I know them:

1. Locate or Create a Violation of the Narrative – This is the “discovery” that there are underground dating coaches who are on the streets chatting up women, and worse, teaching other men to do so! Some women have been mildly inconvenienced. Even more shocking, some of them quite like the men and decided to fuck them. This is a breach of the SJW narrative because Leftists do not allow men to have any agency nor any legitimate sexual rights.

2. Point and Shriek – The purpose of the BBC show is to draw attention to these dastardly daygamers. “Look at this! Look at it! Witches!”

3. Isolate and Swarm – The BBC show focused on the two targets they could best attack. Addy was a soft target due to his forthright views and habit of saying quotably unpleasant one-liners, and Street Attraction because they were running boot camps and thus footage of them could be filmed. The soyboy producer, Miles Buttplug or something, did the rounds on daytime TV shows to drum up support for the pile-on.

4. Reject and Transform – [can’t remember this stage exactly. Don’t have Vox’s book at hand] I think this is where the target attempts to explain they weren’t actually being racist, sexist, transphobic, capitalist or whatever. This stage never happened because the daygame community told them to get fucked. SJWs need you to apologise- which they’ll reject as insufficient- as an admission of guilt, which they will then use against you.

5. Press for Surrender – The SJWs then demand the target surrender, such as resigning from their job, changing the government policy, or in this case closing up their business / YouTube channel. Again, except for the ignoble examples of Tom Torero, Anthony Hustle and a couple of others, everyone in daygame told them to get fucked.

6. Appeal to Amenable Authority – This is the one point of success the BBC had. They had amenable people in place at the Scottish prosecution services and at YouTube in order to punish Addy and Street Attraction. Note that without these people- who may have literally been just one person in each case- nothing at all would have happened precisely because the daygame community refused to play ball.

7. Show Trial – This was the screening of the documentary plus a planned follow-up that never came to be because of the failure of the original hit-piece to gain traction.

8. Victory Parade – This too was severely down-scaled, limited to a couple of self-congratulatory articles in the usual fake newspapers.

So, though the BBC attack was a by-the-book SJW attack, it wasn’t anywhere near as effective as they intended. That’s small consolation to Addy and Street Attraction [8] but it does show that these SJWs are waning in their influence.

One more particular point of analysis I disagree with on the Red Pill Rights documentary is the segment were Miles Bumbandit is on the bootcamp and pushed to approach. He then resists, saying the girl looks underage. The daygamers features analyse this mostly according to avoidance weasels, i.e. Miles was bottling it, and in scrambling for a way to avoid approaching his brain settled on the rationalisation that she was too young. I think differently. I believe Miles very specifically had a narrative goal that daygamers creep on underage girls (one of his accusations against Addy) and he was determined to get some footage to back up that point by hook or crook. So, when it was his turn to open he claimed the girl looked underage. You can tell nobody else present agreed with him. No comments such as, “yeah, maybe” or “okay, let’s find you a different set.” Note also that we have only Miles’ word that she looked underage, because there’s no video footage at all. To me, this was a set-up. Miles had the premeditated agenda of trying to trap Eddie or Richard on camera saying words to the effect of, “who cares if she’s underage, you should still try to fuck her.”

To me, this was the most shocking part of the BBC programme. It was a blatant set-up of fake news and it failed only because (1) Miles isn’t a very effective SJW, and (2) Eddie and Richard don’t actually endorse banging underage girls.

If you’d like to support the daygame community and fight Leftism, there’s really no better way than by buying all of my products. Every fucking one of them. Starting with Daygame Overkill. For every sale of that fantastic video instructional, I will donate ONE pint of cold lager to Eddie next time I go drinking with him.

[1] Not since 2009 for me. I’m that edgy.
[2] When they offered to fund production of a seminar product back in 2015, I bit the hook. What happened afterwards convinced me to never bite again.
[3] The whole team were involved in a bad faith hatchet job, so I have no moral qualms in revealing a private email from them.
[4] How very unlike the BBC to be dishonest manipulative propaganda.
[5] Presumably The Natural Lifestyles survived the cull because no-one at YouTube could find any “game” going on in their infields.
[6] I don’t know Addy or what was really behind the police going after him. There’s definitely a lot more to it than simply a BBC documentary highlighting him for talking to girls, but I don’t know what it is. Perhaps if I did know, I’d agree with those who call it an injustice.
[7] Such as trying to help people.
[8] Fuck Bradicus, the scamming ginger cunt.

I was having a chat with a buddy today [1] about the history of daygame. He was discussing some of his wing-men who are really into the entirety of daygame both as a means of getting skirt and as an engrossing topic with its own rewards of intellectual edification. For example, consider Nash’s many long scholarly posts. That’s supreme mental masturbation for the pleasure of taking apart the watch and fitting it back together again. I’ve been known to do the same thing myself. It’s fun and helps you understand the topic. If you’re lucky, you can even move the topic forward.

“When I was first getting into daygame, in Prague, I’d watch one of Street Attraction‘s videos every afternoon when I was getting ready to go out,” my buddy said [2]. “I’d listen to all the Daygame.com podcasts, and read blog posts. It really got me motivated to approach.”

Yes, I can imagine it would. He then discussed a couple of his wing-men who have read everything about the history of Game, and who know exactly who was in the Project Hollywood house, who invented what jargon, and so on [3]. As inevitably happens in such discussions, I was asked to elaborate on the circumstances behind Tom Torero getting punched by Richard La Ruina in a Minsk cafe, while Yad egged him on. For some reason, that shot was heard around the world [4] and is now an Established Event in daygame folklore. So, I regaled my buddy with a long, detailed chronology beginning in 2011 that led up to that punch in April 2014.

Daygame history. I knows it.

In talking about Torero taking one for the team, we naturally slipped into discussion about Andy Yosha’s business Daygame.com and then what Andy Aslen Claymore is up to nowadays. I didn’t know, but a google search shows he’s got a Twitter account with 27 followers launching a product that isn’t really explained. The conversation turned to how Andy ran Daygame.com and from there to how Tyler and Papa run Real Social Dynamics, and then on to the PUA industry as a whole. I think the conclusion is something that might interest my esteemed readership, and thus we arrive at the topic of this post:

Conclusion: Most pick-up companies are not viable businesses.
Corollary: To the extent they stay operational, most pick-up companies are cheating somebody.

At first approximation I’d say there are four different business structures in the PUA world, of which three are non-viable/exploitative and one is viable and ethical but severely constrained. Let me list them. I won’t name names, so you’ll have to figure out which hat fits who.

1. Really Systematic Dating
This is the most scaleable of all businesses because it operates as a pyramid scheme. At the bottom level squats a mass of young interns who are press-ganged into completing all the administration and grunt work of the business. College kids will man the cameras, edit the videos, upload the files, answer the queries, balance the books and so on. Their lure is that these impressionable unpaid/underpaid lads get to hang out with the coaches and “live the life” and network etc. The next level up the pyramid are the paid coaches who teach the live events and do the actual fee-earning work. These coaches are on employment contracts and worked extremely hard. To squeeze full profitability out of them, they’ll be flown around the world to coach a boot-camp every weekend. It’s a tough job: crossing time zones, working nights, and the unending high pressure of performing in front of students. By putting these coaches on contracts, you can pay them less than a per-programme fee, say $50k pa, which works out at about $0.01 per hour.

Then at the top of the pyramid are the one or two business owners who take all the profit. Of the entire pyramid, only those guys are making good money.

This business model survives by sucking the blood out of the interns and coaches, then rudely discarding them when they are burnt out or no longer compliant. It requires iron control within the company, high churn of bodies, and lots of internal and recruiting bullshit about what a valuable learning experience they are having by being part of the organisation. The clients don’t necessarily get a raw deal. The product delivered might be just fine.

2. Total Numpty Losers
Whereas (1) is a sprawling organisation with many moving parts drawing its value by underpaying the grunts, this second business model thrives on a different currency entirely: bullshit. So whereas in (1) it’s the employees and interns being sucked dry, in (2) it’s the customers being bled white whereas the staff do really well thankyouverymuch.

Simply, you target credulous customers who are new to pick-up and lack the ability to spot a con. Promise them wild abundant success with women while non-too-subtly suggesting they’ll finally find acceptance in a group of like-minded individuals (use lots of video of group hugs between coaches and suckers clients).

This business model works because the coaches don’t need to have any ability whatsoever, so you can get them cheap. They aren’t the hard workers of (1). They just need to spin a line of bullshit long enough, then gaslight the client on what great progress he’s allegedly made so he goes home with a smile on his face. Given that the coaches have no ability, you’d think it would be difficult to create the marketing material that draws the punters in. That’s where severely dishonest and misleading advertising comes in. Hire hookers to model in “lifestyle” photos. Hire hookers to walk down the street that your instructor can “approach” and get an incredible response. Sell nebulous unmeasurable skills such as “inner game”. Make it woo-woo as fuck.

Whereas (1) is run like a slave plantation, (2) isn’t a pick-up business at all. Much as Britain’s National Health Service is really just a job creation program for incompetent Labour voters (and if some patients get treated along the way, that’s an unexpected bonus), this business model is really just an engine to fund the hooker-and-blow addictions of the instructors. It’s an endless circle of: pay hookers for marketing -> to draw in punters -> who pay for your hookers and marketing.

Only by the wildest chain of coincidences will a client actually learn any game.

3. Young And Disorganised
We started with a big complex business model (1) and then scaled it down a notch to a little boy’s gang (2), and now we come to the sole trader. This business model will suit any coach who can put forth a reasonably convincing effort on the streets but who doesn’t really have the discipline to write a book and speak coherently on a video analysis. This model replies primarily on (i) identifying individual rich suckers, and (ii) shamelessly bullshitting them on the progress they could make with you. Don’t play the ball, play the man.

So, try to spot someone with more money than sense. If they are an affluent brown man with an inexhaustible thirst for white girls, you are onto a winner. Saudi lawyers, Indian tech engineers, Turkish entrepreneurs etc. So give them the spiel, “yeah, baby, I fink that what would, like, really work for you bro is if we did a ten-day program in Minsk, yeah.” Take the money, sponge even more on accommodation (“so, like, if you really want to maximise your closing rate, like, you need to be in an impressive apartment, where you have twenty-four-hour access to my coaching, yeah?”). Then when the coaching has finished, pitch them on the next residential program (“You are making really good progress man. I think, like, the best way for you to push on through to the next level is a two week trip to Romania. Oh man, those Romanian girls are so sexy. Mmmmm! And I’ll tell you what, right, there’s a Romanian girl I dated- a model, like- and she told me girls down there just love Saudi/Iranian/Indian lawyers/doctors/architects”).

This business model is not inherently dishonest, but it works best if you keep reselling additional coaching that the client simply doesn’t need. It also scales best if you accept clients that really shouldn’t be doing daygame at all. Then you’re just mugging them, selling impossible dreams you can’t possibly help them fulfil.

4. Mostly Ethical
This is the only way I know of running a profitable PUA business without scamming anyone [5] and it’s mostly run like (3) but with two important limitations. First, you screen all prospective clients to figure out if you can actually help them. So, perhaps you’ll respond to their first inquiry by emailing a series of pertinent questions (e.g. age, race, lifetime lay count, cumulative approach count, successes etc) and then proceed to a video chat- mostly to check if they are deluded, autistic, or will be a nightmare to coach. Explain realistic expectations and then- if you are both agreed- only then do you take the money. This means sometimes you have to turn down clients (and thus cash) [6]. Not everyone is cut out for daygame. That drastically limits scaleability because there are only so many coachable clients out there.

Second, once you’ve taught them everything you can…. STOP. Don’t sell them any more coaching. They need to go away for a year and implement all that new knowledge. Intensive in-field daygame coaching is not a recurring expense. Or at least it shouldn’t be.

Like (3) you have to do the coaching yourself, for quality control. It is theoretically possible to hire help but I’ve yet to see a PUA business that can sustain such a system. Yes, their marketing will tell you they have “hand-picked coaches I’ve taught myself and who I guarantee are at the pinnacle of game skill” but this is always a flagrant lie. They are clueless interns. The reason is that managing skilled players is like herding cats. Most skilled players don’t want to coach, so you’re beginning from a tiny pool of skilled available labour. Then you simply can’t keep them. As soon as a good coach gets experience and a name, there’s nothing stopping him opening his own business. And, historically, that’s exactly what has happened…

…. and thus we come full circle to one of the reasons why Torero got punched in Minsk.

If you’d rather just buy Daygame Overkill, then you may wish to buy Daygame Overkill here.

[1] An argument, really. But don’t worry, I was right about everything whereas he was sadly mistaken on all points of variance.
[2] Sadly, we can’t do that any more. RIP.
[3] Presumably they’ve read the official history of daygame beginning with Balls Deep and ending in Last Man Banging.
[4] To the extent that being punched on the ear makes any sound at all.
[5] Yosha tried to run Daygame.com like (1) but with genuinely able coaches and far less exploitatively. I think that’s a big reason why the company went bust. It’s too expensive a cost base.
[6] Something which may have only happened on a handful of occasions in the history of the PUA industry.

One thing I had never done, in the ten years I’ve been producing daygame content, is provide a simple overview of the Krauser London Daygame Model. I’ve done a beginner’s how-two for the low, low price of zero pounds. I’ve done a solid intermediate instructional called Black Book for the not so low price of $99 (buy it here). And of course, I have done the legendary [1], earth-shattering [2], as-yet-not-even-close-to-matched-much-less-surpassed [3] in-field analysis and daygame instructional Daygame Overkill.

[buy Daygame Overkill here]

But what I haven’t done is a straight-forward technical introduction for people who don’t really know what our style of daygame is. Maybe they’ve seen some in-fields on Youtube, and gotten an approximate idea that daygame is game in the day. Maybe they’ve seen The Natural Lifestyles and thus concluded daygame is an epic cringefest of low-testosterone soyboys irritating unsuspecting Euro-girls with lame openers and interminable directionless chit-chat [4]. Maybe they’ve watched RSD Max and think it comes down to injecting synthetic testosterone [5] and then posing on Instagram with obvious models that you’ve obviously paid for their time.

Hang on, I’m digressing again aren’t I?

When Anthony Johnson was kind enough to invite me to his The 21 Convention last summer, I delivered precisely that simple overview speech. The full talk has just recently gone live on T21C’s official YouTube and I link it here.

And if I haven’t made the purpose of my post sufficiently clear, here it is again: Buy Daygame Overkill here.

If you need to be told three times before you do something, you may wish to buy Daygame Overkill here.

1. In my own mind, your experience may vary.
2. To my bank account, at least.
3. Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.

4. Hot off the presses in this latest video from the bullshitting Aussie charlatan, I see The Natural Lifestyles are now preying on desperate soyboys with a “lifestyle design” mentor program. Now, notice the thumbnail in that YouTube video:

 

has the same girls, in the same clothes, on the same boat, in the same weather as when lying fronting piece of shit Robbie Kramer was also shamming at “lifestyle design” here:

 

Robbie had to delete his image from Instagram when the girls complained about him using their image in his marketing. So, how did they get these photos? Simple. Robbie runs a soft-pimping business in which he takes $10k+ from credulous chodes (or in Marshall’s case, from scheming charlatans) so a bunch of them can hire a private beach and yacht in the Maldives (or Mauritius Islands, I forget which) for a week-long orgy. Kramer uses his contacts among sex workers in Ukraine to ship in a bunch of hookers and semi-pros with a free all-expenses holiday and a ton of blow. Part of the deal (aside from shagging the chodes) is the girls pose for these “lifestyle design” photos.

This is now the third person I’ve seen in the middle of that same group of women from that trip (which was May 2018).

Lads, it’s all a total con job. James Marshall is a lying chump with zero game who doesn’t cold approach and instead relies on hookers and sugarbabies to get laid. The lifestyle he is selling is total bullshit. His entire image is a fragile facade to persuade idiots to fund him. That’s how he really got “rich”: selling bullshit to idiots and laughing his way to the bank.

5. That’s a guess. I’m waiting for More Plates More Dates or Coach Greg to do a natty-or-not video.

You are probably aware of Hans Christian Anderson‘s famous story The Emperor’s New Clothes. Two weavers promise an emperor a new suit of clothes that they say is invisible to those who are unfit for their positions, stupid, or incompetent – while in reality, they make no clothes at all, making everyone believe the clothes are invisible to them. When the emperor parades before his subjects in his new “clothes”, no one dares to say that they do not see any suit of clothes on him for fear that they will be seen as stupid. Finally a child cries out, “But he isn’t wearing anything at all!”

To me, that describes most of the classics I’ve read. I don’t speak from lack of effort. In the last few years I’ve read plenty, being quite enthused especially by the Wordsworth Classics editions. A quick consultation of my reading log shows I’ve plowed through Ben Hur, The Master & Margarita, War And Peace [1], The Arabian Nights, A Tale Of Two Cities, The Story Of A Nobody, The Gambler, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, Wuthering Heights, Ivanhoe, plus an ungodly amount of Dumas. I’ve also managed some other classics prior to that. Of those, only the Dumas books and Ivanhoe stood on their own merits as a good read [2]. The rest were all….. a slog.

Every single one of them was painfully over-written. It felt like the writers were poseurs attempting to impress their peers with the wordsmanship of their prose, rather than constructing good books. Almost to a man, the authors I tried were unable to plot effectively, create compelling believable characters, and – most saliently – unable to pace the book so that I wanted to keep reading it. They were not page-turners. I had no desire to see how the characters overcame the obstacles set [3]. I finished the books only because I felt like I should.

But surely you learned something about the human condition, Nick?

Not really. The classics are full of hokey philosophy, poor theology, and mad ramblings. Russian writers are just miserable nihilists wallowing in squalor. The Arabs are sick savages praising the dumbest, cruellest of kings as wise philanthropists. The French are…. well, French [4]. I think it’s not an overstatement to say the weighty issues and observations on the human condition contained within potboiler genre fiction are absolutely the equal- if not better observed- than those in the classics. I found myself stopping to consider ideas in Stephen Marlowe’s Chester Drum series or Donald Hamilton’s Matt Helm books more often than in Dostoevsky, Hugo, or Dickens.

Gamma cunts. I’m calling it, now.

But isn’t this all subjective, Nick? you cry, unwilling to call the emperor’s clothes what they are. Let’s consider that. There are objective criteria to good story writing [5]. For a start, if you’re writing drama you need intention plus obstacle. If you’re setting a scene, you need to turn exposition into ammunition. If something isn’t helping the story, or, worse, is noise obscuring the signal, then it should be excised. With that in mind, let’s consider a random chapter selection from Ben Hur.

“You are about to read one of the finest novels ever written,” the first lines of the Signet Classics introduction assured me. Well, let’s put that to the test shall we. Here it is unedited [6] for Chapter Two of Book Five. The hero is going to meet a young tart he fancies who is the daughter of a crippled trader.

That was turgid, was it not? Now let’s consider the vastly-improved Krauser Edition:

Notice how my deletions don’t remove a single line of value. Absolutely everything I removed was pointless blather that bogged down the plot and made the main character look like a right fucking faggot. All that immersion-breaking purple prose is gone, leaving only the stuff that actually happens. Mind you, what remains is still total shite. It’s an unsaveable book. There’s 150 pages of story wrapped up in 450 pages of fluff and, when you finally unpick it all, you find out that Lew Wallace has just cobbled together a revenge story of the same structure and themes as The Count Of Monte Cristo, except that Dumas beat him to the punch by thirty years and did it miles better. Dumas’ book is actually really good and races along as a proper page-turner.

Ben Hur – Finest novel my arse. It’s a bag of shite.

Let me tenuously connect this rant to the subject of daygame. When browsing Jimmy’s Twitter account I saw him laughing at a link to manosphere name Donovan Sharpe. The guy was bragging about how a “man on a mission” lives out his day. Take a look at the photo he posted.

Lol.

He might want to change his testosterone provider because that shirtless photo just looks like a fat slob to me. And, frankly, I would not be bragging about shacking up with a fat lass. If photos like that of me surfaced on the internet, I’d get emergency injunctions to get them removed lest my reputation be forever tarnished [7]

The lesson of the Emperor’s New Clothes, as delivered by the impulsive kid at the end of the story, is to see things as they really are rather than how you’ve been carefully gas-lighted to think you should see them. Gas-lighting can only work when it appeals to our worst emotions, such as Pride in Andersen’s tale. When something (e.g. a classic) or somebody (e.g. a well-known PUA coach) is established as something to be taken seriously you should always first ask yourself: why? What has he / it done to deserve this position? When you’re new to an arena, say just getting into pick-up, it’s natural to not know up from down and to therefore look to the mob to tell you who to follow. That’s what all these poseurs with Twitter accounts, YouTube channels, and podcasts [8] are banking on. They are banking on your natural reticence to stand up, point at the emperor, and say “he’s not wearing any clothes.”

Pretend you never read any of that and just buy Daygame Mastery here, the best instructional textbook in the history of pick-up unless you are too stupid, incompetent or unfit for your position as a daygamer

[1] Gave up halfway through. It’s so boring.
[2] And, unless you specifically like Dumas’ style, only his most famous works are good. Once you drop down to his second-tier efforts, there’s a plunge in quality.
[3] Which is, quite literally, the essence of drama.
[4] Snobbish, cowardly fags obsessed with cheese and wine.
[5] Anyone banging on about “what is objectivity? everything is subjective” or setting a straw man comparison to peer-reviewed mathematical proofs can fuck off right now. We are not in a uni student bar.
[6] And, fuck me, if ever a book needed editing it is this one.
[7] More than it already is, that is to say.
[8] Rarely blogs, as charlatans tend not to be very literary unless they are Jewish.

I was asked in the comments what my home-training bodyweight workout is. Seeing as I’m well-known for being responsive to my readers [1] I guess it would behove me to outline it. So, in true Manosphere Red-Pill Huckster fashion, allow me to pontificate on something I have absolutely no track record in, charging you a one-time Corona Sale price of £97 (60% off £299) [2] for my Personal Training Mastery package [3]

Fuck it, here goes. Summary first:

• Bodyweight training 3 times a week, comprising Hindu push-ups and Hindu squats as the centrepiece.
• Small calorie deficit and low-carbs.
• An hour walking each day.

Putting the detail on it is as follows.

My previous training was based around achieving lean gains, and thus bulking slowly with a small (+300 kcal) daily surplus, cycling carbs on basis as follows:

Monday: Gym (Back), 2300 kcal, carbs at 100g
Tuesday: Rest, 2300 kcal, carbs at 100g
Wednesday: Gym (Chest), 2300 kcal, carbs at 100g
Thursday: Rest, 3000 kcal, carbs at 300g REFILL #1
Friday: Gym (Arms), 2300 kcal, carbs at 100g
Saturday: Gym (Legs, Shoulders), 2300 kcal, carbs at 100g
Sunday: Cardio (fasted), unlimited kcal (typically 5,000), carbs at 700g REFILL #2

This diet was based on carb super-compensation, meaning that I’d progressively drain glycogen from my muscles culminating in being empty when stepping off treadmill at Sunday lunchtime. Then I’d eat like a hog and refill +extra, ready for the next week. It was going good. My weight and strength went up but with minimal fat. Nonetheless, some fat was added as was some carb bloat around my waist. I’d need to cut eventually.

Corona brought the bulk phase to an end when the gyms closed three weeks ago. I’m in a small short-stay rental apartment in a foreign country. It’s simply not feasible (or, now, even possible) to buy a suite of weights heavy enough to continue with a decent bulk. Therefore I decided to do my cutting phase now. First, I took a week off to recuperate after an extremely punishing year-to-date. Then, training changed as follows:

Monday, Wednesday, Friday: Bodyweight training
Every day: Calorie deficit, low carbs, walking

 

 

I intend to do ten days cutting hard, then a one-day refill, and back to ten days cutting. Tomorrow is the end of the first ten-day cycle. For training, I’m trying to add volume each session but it’s tough because the diet is depleting me. I’m satisfied if I can simply maintain my baseline volume, which is:

Hindu push-ups x100 (1×50, 1×30, 1×20)
Hindu squats x200 (2×100)
Boxing neck raises x120 (1×40 in three directions)
Sit-ups x50
Wall chair for 3 minutes
Standard push-up variations x60 (20 on fists, 10 triangle, 10 middle fingers touching, 10 wide, 10 each side staggered arms [4])

I was initially planning to get good at the wrestler’s bridge again but I’ve decided long-term neck health is more important than making it look bigger. It’s a shame, because it’s a very effective exercise if you don’t mind knacking your neck a bit. The neck raises are far safer, so I’m doing them instead. This workout, including warm-up/stretching/cool-down takes just over an hour. Much of the break time is spent lying on my bed hyperventilating because it’s extremely demanding anaerobically. Total training load isn’t as demanding as what I was doing in the gym, but I don’t mind. If I was stuck with bodyweight training for the rest of the year, I’d be more aggressive in upping my volume. For now, I’m just happy to keep things ticking along.

Let’s be clear. I am not positioning myself as a fitness and diet expert. I’ve learned a lot, especially over the past two years, but I’m light-years behind the real experts. I post this regime simply because people showed an interest, and this blog is predominantly a personal log of things I try to get better at. In the spirit of full disclosure, here’s a selfie I took just before beginning my first training session in this regime, two weeks ago.

Feel free to comment on the quality of my training/diet regime but- and I stress this- if you are going to bluster about how I’m stupid, or mistaken, or obviously need to do it this other way that you suggest instead, then you must (a) swear an oath upon Daygame Mastery that you are not on testosterone, gear, GH or any other PED [5] and (b) post a picture of your upper body equivalent to what I posted here.

I find that buying Daygame Overkill and ruminating on the treasure trove of in-field knowledge contained within is the single best way to focus my mind to complete an effective home-training workout. Buy it here for $199 (60% off $897)

[1] Though usually by insulting them.
[2] 60% off £299 is actually £119 but the guy I copied it off is as bad at maths as he is everything else he sells courses on.
[3] £597 if you want VIP Inner Circle access, meaning the occasional half-assed Skype call, and a chance to sit and watch me eat lunch every Sunday in my #LunchRoom #WarRoom.
[4] Simulating one-armed push-ups for someone not strong enough to do proper one-armed push-ups with good form on almost-exhausted arms.

[5] I’ve got no problem with people hitting the gas to look good, but, if so, don’t kid yourself that you actually know how to train. It’s just the gas you’re on, as you’ll find out soon enough when you come back off it.