Revisiting Natural Versus Routine, Spastic Ramblings

Consistency has been rather lacking recently. Opening isn’t a problem. Neither is getting them laughing, making them go all doggy dinner bowl or making out with them. The problem is actually getting to the same points in the interaction on a more consistent basis. When you consider that I may open anywhere around 25 sets per week and get one or two makeouts it almost sounds like a numbers game.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have that sniper style game where you see the girl you want and just get her? The thing is, I KNOW it will be possible eventually but fuck it is frustrating to not be able to do it right now. This is where you go all Eckhart Tolle on my ass and say to enjoy whatever is happening in the moment, enjoy the process, and not concern myself too much with the future. This doesn’t make it suck any less when you, as a guy who spends a lot of time improving himself, gets shut down by some partyslut who spends enough time in the mirror to look pretty and does enough drugs to stay skinny. Makes you wonder how the value systems in our society got that way… It’s kind of fucked up.

Anyhoo, so in the search for sniper game, I’ve found my brain kick back into “lets search for the magic pill” mode. Yep, I considered getting into routines. There seems to be a crap load of proof that they work, and I’m sure a lot of cool guys use them. Thing is, when I hear someone using something I know is a routine, or a routine slips out of my mouth, I feel sick. I’m not saying it just annoys me, I’m saying I feel PHYSICALLY ILL. It just does not compute, it does not feel right in any way, shape or form. Dispite this, I’m still going to keep looking into it to see if this is just conditioning that will go away.

Why am I getting so pissed at my results? They are kind of crap right now, at least compared to where I want them to be. Four months ago I had two regular girls who I genuinely liked and a third who was frankly only good for an occasional lay. She fell off the cards not long after meeting the other two. Then one wanted exlusive so she had to go. The last one was a cool chick who was awesome to hang out with but then she left the country and I never heard from her again. Since then (a month and a half ago), all numbers have staled out or end up being nutjobs (see last post), and I haven’t fonud another regular girl. Hence the search for something to give me an ‘edge’.

I’ve posted up about this a couple of times, and gotten some pretty good feedback. Apparently the point I am at is a pretty common sticking point in the quest to be a natural, and it’s a matter of manning up and pushing boundaries. But part of me still wants a structure behind all of this. I am inclined to believe that even a lot of the good natural guys have some knid of structure, even if they aren’t aware of it while they are talking to girls.

I’ve started looking at one guys personalised stacks that he writes for people, taking stories of their lives and building them up into an hour to hour and a half worth of storytime that involves the girl in a deep level of comfort and rapport. Stories are written to elicit a huge range of emotions in the girl, while introducing frames such as being able to keep secrets, neing non-judgemental and establishing both you and her as being ‘risk takers’. They communicate that you understand womens emotions, have been preselected by other women, are spontaneous, are willing to emote, are a protector of loved ones etc etc. Sounds like a DHV story on steroids with a dose of plutonium.

While I do not want to remember a 30 page multi-threaded, scripted conversation (even if it is about real stories), the principles behind this definitely got me interested. I feel that maybe it is worth learning how to appeal to different ’subpersonalities’ of the girl (i.e. the crazy side of her, or the sex maniac side) and work the coversation to bring this out.

I don’t really know enough about this yet, but it’s prompted me to at least improve on my story telling ability, which needs work. I’m on it.

p.s. I wrote this article up yesterday and decided not to post until today. In that time I have already felt some negative effects of this mindset. The common line that “you are enough” used to sit at the forefront of my mind, most of the time. Reading about all these little tricks has made me start thinking that I need some little gimmick to get the girl and I am no longer good enough as a person. The thought sickens me, but I’m going to keep investigating this routines stuff.

I’m not going to be aronud to write an article next week cause I’ll be busy creaming my pants over the 210cm base and 70+cm of fresh snow on Mt Hutt in New Zealand. Oh yeah. In between that and getting indescribably drunk, I might try to write me some “DHV stories” (as much as I fucking hate that term). I also might just take the week off the community and women in general to release some of the frustration I have with that side of the spieces right now.

Peace.

 Mail this post

Fatal Flaws

Did you ever see Monty Python’s Meaning of Life, where the dude is getting chased of the cliff by a bunch of topless girls? That’s kind of how I feel right now, except imagine that each of those girls has a fatal flaw that makes them incredibly unattractive, unavailable or off-limits.

I wonder if other people get this or has this been some random sequence of events that has landed me in this spot. I wonder if I have a sign on my head requesting weird, unattractive or off limits girls to attept the otherwise easy manoevure required to land on my cock.

Last night I was getting messages from a girl not 3 meters away from me, demanding I come find her. More precise details were being texted every 2 minutes. They were still fucking terrible directions. What is it with girls and their inability to navigate or guide? Honest to god I would trust instinct over directions from one of them. I could go on forever, but that’s another rant. Anyway, I’m making out with some cutie at the bar (the reason I hadn’t walked the 3 meters yet) cause she was standing behind me, and I want to smack that. Big time.

But other girl has dogged her friends to come find me, and I did get with her a few days ago so I guess I kinda owe her some attention. I’m currently on a self induced 30-day phone numbers ban so I leave BarGirl without digits, smack her on the ass and head over to girl2. I get fucking pounced on and have my face devoured. Her claw of doom is engaged. Honest to god I could not get away from this girl, unless I felt like throwing her ass to the ground and running away before she got a chance to reingage.

I am telling her of have to pick up my best mate from high school from the airport and she still fucking won’t let me go. Only one thing left to try, I honest-to-god use grapple breaking movements that I learned in Zen Do Kai back in the day to break free of this girls grip.

Now this girl is fairly cute so you’re probably thinking whats so bad? And why is this article called fatal flaws? Normally I definitely don’t mind having a girl all over me, but i’ll run you through the conversation when I met this girl.

…
P: Fuck you’re a cool chick, we’re hanging out sometime. (Hand phone, type in 04)
G: Wait wait, you don’t know what I study yet
P: What’s that got to do with it? (hands phone again)
G: Wait guess
P: (most hated degrees I can think of – law, psych and something else)
G: No No No (holds out crucifix on her necklace)
P: Huh?
G: I’m studying to be a deacon.

Guess what that means. Yep, No sex before marriage. My favourite.

I thought what the hell and went out with her a week later cause I thought we’d hang out as friends. Ends up that she’s into me and we make out for a bit. Shortest day2 report ever but it will do.

So there you go, I’d call the whole “no sex before marraige” thing a fatal flaw. I’m not here to kiss and cuddle.

————
Next story.

A couple of weeks ago, K and I were choding around a bunch. Eventually I hit a point of utter frustration at myself and dove into a group of 4 girls dancing on a dance floor surrounded by about 10 guys and picked one out.

Double tap, laser eyes and smile, hand out for a spin, pull her in and say “You…. are fucking adorable”

She melts and we are making out within 20 seconds. I drag her over to some couches and my oh my that is a short dress. What else to do but shove my hand up it. It got pretty heated. Lots of “wandering” hands.

A few days later I’m texting and she asks how old I was. After some more texts she finally reveals her real age.

Six-fucking-teen.

Is that ‘fatal flaw’ enough for you?

————

I could go on about the hordes of fatties that have thrown themselves at us but I’ll save you the stomach acid.

Then there is the friends friends or ex-girlfriends or whatever, who are off limits due to ‘not wanting to fuck friendships’. Sometimes it hurts.

I have read about when some guys get really good at this they give out a vibe that indicates to the UG’s that it just aint gonna happen. I need to work on cultivating said vibe.

 Mail this post

FR: Insane night on the booze

Last Sunday night we had a buddy in town. This bloke did bootcamp with me and we had a few nights out in the city with him. This was his last night. Until this point in his life he had strayed away from alcohol big time. Call him S.

We prescribe a hefty dose of vodka to loosen the man up, and lower inhibitions. By fuck it worked a treat. I rarely booze these days so I decided I’d get fucked up also.

Walking to the pub, we are a sack full of idiots. S is having more fun then I’ve ever seen him have. Woooooo!

Lots of sets. Guys open us. Girls open us. Straws are thrown like confetti. Beer glasses are balanced on my head. First attempt of glass on head game results in glass smashing as it falls to the concrete floor, to the cheers of everyone around.

Random hottie walking past is clawed and her feeble attempts of escape are foiled by the re-claw. “Escalate unless the girl is clearly uncomfortable”. Pull her back in, claw, square her up to me, have her try to leave, repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat, makeout.

Ice and water is poured all over the floor to make shuffling easier. At this point the floor is a mess of straws, glass, water and ice and it’s all cause of us. Some girl gets all snotty cause I refuse to buy her a drink after knowing her for the most part of 10 seconds. I run distraction on a boyfriend to allow Kim to make out with his girl behind bf’s back.

More straws are thrown. S is texting some girl. K, S and myself form a schoolgirl style giggle huddle, forming replies which eventually result in girls address being texted. The key was persistance. I think we told her to give the address there times in a row despite replies like “its midnight and I have to work ni the morning!” and assorted other token resistance rubbish. Nearby women are introduced into our circle of advice for our departing brother, as this would be him losing his V-card.

S leaves. I perform a hadoken, throw some straws and go back to shuffling

K and I split a two set. After a while, my girl has surpassed eye-coding, and walks straight over to the other girl saying she wants to go dance. Why the fuck can’t I hold a girls attention without talking about games of capture the flag, planning marraiges in vegas, arguing that backflips are a viable mode of transport and other assorted rubbish? It kind of hurts knowing that my ‘normal’ conversations suck ass.

Some girls tell me I’m a good conversationalist, allowing me to reclaim some pieces of my shattered ego from the last set. It’s going well. Then one of them gets a call from her bf and leaves for his place, other girl leaves for her boyfriend 5 meters behind us. For fucks sake.

A hottie looks at K a little too long, so the opportunity is used to blow out irish chode who is buynig them drinks. Somehow I got the nickname russian. I think it was because I told them I was from Russia, with a perfect Australian accent. It’s kinda a blur from here. K is closing in on his girl, who is a flighty tease.

I alternate between occupying Kim’s girl’s S&M fat goth friend (who in all fairness was a very cool chick) and teaching a random guy how to shuffle. He sucks.

I think my shuffling skill increased tenfold, or maybe I was just drunk.

I look around and realise there are motherfuckers making out in every corner, its 3am and I gotta get up at 7, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the head with a size 14, and I am girl-less.

So many people picking up in this place.

I’m not ganna lie, the walk home alone was painful. Very painful.

I managed to smile though, when I lied on my bed and realised my walls and roof were moving.

It kind of sucks that such a crazy, fun night where I’d say my “game” was shining, went out on such a negative note.

But fuck it was a fun night though, talk about being the party.

 Mail this post

LR: More Car Love

Weeks ago, I was drunk and decided to yell at some girl standing at the bar, cause she looked at me.

“WHO ARE YOU” pointing at her and giving her the evil eyes like I was accusing her of being alive.

We hit it off for about 5 minutes and must have got her number at some point, cause I woke up with it.

She added me on MSN somehow and would occasionally chat, and I wasn’t very keen to met up. One day when I was in an unusually happy mood I said we should hang out the following week.

Cue super cling mode. I started getting a shitload of texts. Dumb things like “good morning ” and

“How is your night?”
“Im out eating”
“Oh are you on a date?”
“Yeah, with my roommate” (lies, I was on my day2 with HBBlue)
“lol so not a date.” blah blah blah

I also managed to get her to send a topless picture message after denying her request for a pic of me, telling her it was nothing she wouldn’t get to see when we met up. When I was send a photo of boobs and face, I told her that I thought she missed the bottom half of her in the photo. So she sent a video, but wouldn’t allow seeing “down there”. Cute.
I decided to head out early, before her and a wing got there, to prove I can go solo.

Straight in to a hothothot girl at the bar. My new mindset is that all this is just a big silly game. She lights the fuck up with a “hey, whats up” followed by a chode question “where you from”. I swear only because I was grinning like an idiot.

After some random chat with peoples RL is outside. We make some videos for his website out the front and I spot HBCling.

“Oi, I know you”
She looks and keeps walking
“HBCling!”

It turns out she had me confused for someone else ie. was looking for a different guy. Lol. She’s ganna hang around anyway, she’s here alone. She’s also a fair bit cuter then I rememebered. Must be those two hours in the mirror.

RL can’t get into this bar so I put HBCling in my car and go to another. Chatting to RL, she keeps pinging for attention so I pull her in for the occasional claw or noogie. I get her to rate girls for RL to pick them up. She just looks like a tag along by this point, she’s fully sucked into our world. I turn on the laser eyes and go sexual, talking about naked pillow fights. Half hour later I tell RL I’m off, taking HBCling.

C: Where are we going?
P: To the car
C: You’re naughty

Make out with her on the way, and then up against the car.

There’s no way I’m taking her to mine. Stalker prevention system.

By this time she’s brought up me going out and getting my freak on with lots of girls. I have no idea how she got this idea, but at least she knows where she stands.

I tell her we are going to Mount X, the most cliché place ever. This is a lookout where all the local high schoolers go to get their freak on a couple of weeks after they get their car licence. You can not live in this city and not know what driving up there means.

We park up, I go round to her side, slam her up against the car and get to making out and groping. She keeps telling me how ‘naughty’ I am. She asks me why I’m so naughty. Cute.

She won’t let me near her frontbum, keeps batting me away. So I get in the car, sit her on my lap with her legs out the door and grab her ass through her legs, using my forearm to do the rubbing. Game over.

“Should I get a condom”
“I don’t know, should you?”

I tell her to get up and get her panties off, while I search for the goods. This time I left the door open a bit, made it a shitload easier.

Mid way, some car pulled into the car park, with lights directly on us. I think I freaked out more than she did. Fuck getting done for indecent exposure by the po-lice. They soon realised what was going on and drove off.

This morning I got a message saying

“I don’t normally do that, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea”

Cute.

 Mail this post

FR: Day2 – The Preacher’s Daughter

Last week I met up with HBBlue. It was pretty intesting and a good learning experience. A few days afterwards I found myself feeling a little bit off at the nature of women and how much they can rate themselves at times.

Quick intro: Met for 5 minutes, she asked if I had a gf (while drunk), got her number, txt next day, call day after that, 3 days later call again plus set up meet. I tell her I’ll text the address, she can come to min and we will go from there.
Tuesday:
I text address with some random funny shit tacked on.

She calls later, giving token bullshit to try and flake.

(Something about not showing up at random guys places)
Cool, (some random topic)
Oh I can’t make tonight cause I need to sleep for tomorow
Cool so where did you say you live
Blah
Where the fuck is that?
blah blah blah
There’s some shit I wanna check out over that way, I’ll pick you up at 8
Haha OK

Next, her sister called, flaking on me on HBBlue’s behalf.

HBBlue called, saying she didn’t know what her sister had said and that we were still on for tonight.

By this time, I can’t help but think how fucking weird girls are.

————–

I didn’t actually realise that this was my first day2 without really knowing a girl for longer than 5 minutes until I was out the front of her place.

It was like completely new territory. I didn’t really know what to do so I reverted to “just one of my mates” mode. Probably not the best, but at least now I can see what to do next time.

We stopped off at a lookout I wanted to see out near her place, went to the place we were going to eat (which was too busy) and found a random restaurant. It was standard getting-to-know-someone conversation. At some point it got pretty flirty and, looking back, intent was present for a bit there. The rest of the night was spent wondering whether she actually rated herself as highly as she seemed to verbalise.

Somehow the topic moved to things she expects of guys, so I laughed at her and asked if she had read “The Rules” (she hadn’t), but the topic went on for a bit. Jesus did this girl prize herself. I sat back in not-giving-a-fuck mode for pretty much the whole time, laughing at some of her bullshit and completely blowing off some tests. At some point she said if a guy didn’t pick her up from her place on the first date she wouldn’t see him again. I think she is used to being treated like a princess by guys.

She’s all like “they usually do this”, “i expect this”

Her: Guys always pay my cover charges, I’d never pay for those clubs
Me: Haha right why do they do that
Her: have you SEEN the dresses I wear?
Me: Righto, at least you’re confident

I qualify her saying that the ‘go for what you want’ vibe I got from her the night we met was pretty damn attractive. She talks about how conservative she is due to christian attitudes, but how much it changes when she’s on the booze (hint for me to get her drunk?). Definitely a completely different girl then the one I met out when she had some booze in her system.

I pay for dinner. I don’t really care (I had some age old shit sitting in my mind going Nooooo never pay!). Walking back to the car, I pull her in and makeout. She says something about being able to list out the things I’d done wrong for a first date. I laugh and tell her that “I don’t need a fucking critique” with a big grin (Is this bitch for real?). She looks at me in shock again (I don’t know if this is a good or bad thing). These other chodes must treat her like a fucking princess. Not me, girly.

We stop off at mine for a quick look at the view before she has to be home and we cuddle and makeout for a bit. When we get back to hers I kiss her in the driveway, and she says she shouldn’t because of her dad.

Me: Oh right, parents are conservative
Her: My dad’s a pastor!
Me: (internal: Oh god!) Haha! No way
Her: Yep, I’m a preachers daughter

This might go somewhere, might not. We’ll see.

 Mail this post