Pyro~ and Kimball: A year in the game

Ah, the epic night that was March 23, 2008. Pyro and Kimball embarking on what was to be one hell of a journey and a wicked friendship.

The Normanby, now more affectionately referred to as the Whoremanby, witnessed the two of us with stars in our eyes, eager as we would ever be, gallavant around the place talking to strangers, running trains, collecting numbers and overgaming causing female brain-fry. The common mindset throughout the night was “Holy fuck, THIS SHIT IS WORKING!!!”. Suddenly a whole new world had opened up, and for me the last 9 or so months spent doing jack shit and worrying about girls seemed so retarded. The high generated on that night ran for an entire week.

One week later, in which we had more adventures then our 6 months previous, we meet Tone. The Briscrew had begun to form. That same weekend, we dedicate to a 30-day challenge. For me this also included replacing 5 nights a week on the booze to a few glasses of water a night.

Those 30 days were the wildest mix of ecstasy, pain, fun, extreme tiredness and ego destruction that I have and will probably ever experience in a similar time period. All the while trying to balance my 8-5 Engineering job. Less than 5 hours sleep a night.

In the next thirty days, we well overuse the cyclone, discover the lime squeeze, become approach machines and meet Storm~ who gets his first club makeout. I start an awesome open relationship with an amazing girl who has since become my “one who got away”. We make idiots of ourselves in countless public places in the name of indifference. The Briscrew is extended to include Shift, Red Leader and J-Rad. We experiment with nights of extreme high energy chaos, and nights of low energy chilling. Kim almost gets punched and I have a run in with my girl’s psycho stalker ex-boyfriend. I get my first sub 30 minute pull. We travel 1000 kilometers to see Jeffy in Sydney, have our heads blown off by Cieran’s intro speech, and meet up with a ton of the Aussie RSD presence. I snake an ex-stripper waitress out from under literally about one hundred guys hitting on her at an engineering convention. And most of all we had our realities ripped to fucking shreds.

That first month outdid everything I had done in the 21 years prior.

The next month is Mission Fearless Warrior. Fear becomes our compass. If it scares you, it gets done. Period. Mega sets? Done. Mixed sets with angry guys? Done. You get the drift. We round out the month in bootcamp style. Kimball in Sydney with Ozzie one week, and me on the Gold Coast with Alex and Saad the next. Yet another 30 days of bullshit high levels of improvement and mind fuckery.

They often say that after bootcamp, a lot of guys experience a massive slump as you rearrange your identity and start coming at this from a different place. You can throw me into that pile.

This manifested as three months of drought. Ya, some guy who’s supposedly ‘good with girls’ can’t get a shag to save his life. It got to the point where I just surrendered to not getting laid. Intent therefore suffered, and I ended up in a shithouse downward spiral. I still went out, good (fun) nights were still had and life went on, I just wasn’t doing very well with the girls. All the while, Kimball WAS.

Comparison with other guys is something that will royally fuck your shit up. I learned this big time. I’d be lying to say I wasn’t jealous as FUCK, and mega pissed at my situation. Oddly enough, as soon as I simply recognised that this comparison was the source of my worries, after a bit of analysis and re-framing, I was back to feeling awesome again.

The downturn is understandable though. Bootcamp teaches you to operate from a completely different place then what I was beforehand. You start out pushing buttons to get silly reactions that pump your state, and afterwards you are struggling to come to terms with “you are enough”. Once again, it’s persistence and determination that seperates winners and losers. I digress.

Anyway, no fucking way was I giving up.

A 30 day numbers ban was launched, as I was always the guy who took digits, dated and went the slow way about getting laid. This would also get girls into a cherish/girlfriend frame, which fucked me on MANY occasions.

So, I was going on 3 months no sex, sad as fuck, confused as hell, zero intent. On returning from a no-girls snowboarding holiday with some time for head clearing, within a few weeks I’ve got more girls then I know what to do with. You just don’t appreciate times like these without having gone through the bad. “Without the bitter baby, the sweet aint as sweet”

Next the internationals start rolling over and joining the crew, albeit temporarily. Herman and caveman86, you fuckers rock.

Then came Jimmy’s Eurotour of Desire. If you’re thinking of travelling, just do it. And not some piss ass one or two week thing, I’m talking pulling yourself out of your normal life for at least a couple of months. Fuck your shit up. Anyone that knew me well before and after my two months in Euroland will attest to how much I changed. Night and fucking day. Realising your insignificance and how much awesome shit there is to do out there without getting laid, girls aren’t so important anymore

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Having an awesome wing really shines out in the low times. Hour long chats on the phone at 2am discussing the random adventures, mischief or destruction of the night. Up to two hour debriefs going over everything from life to fucked up mind patterns to girls. It’s invaluable to have honest, unfront feedback from someone who seems everything you do in social interactions. Figuring out each other sticking points is the second best thing about having a good wing. No doubt I would not be where I am having not met KB. Fuck, I’d probably have less then 50 lifetime approaches.

On the flip side, there’s still shit bits. Accidental, subtle out-alphaing in set and messing with each others states through subconscious comparison with each other. If one guy is having an epic night while the other is throwing a sad, the gap can oftentimes be amplified. But I think that shit helps with learning the way your mind operates and in turn fixing it.

It’s also good to have a couple of perspectives on things. Everything new we learned we would try to implement at the same time, coming from two different angles ie. Kim being naturally more dominant versus myself as the fun cool guy. It shows you anything can work. The super physically phase after bootcamp had bitches getting thrown around left and right for a few months before we toned it town a bit. There was the ridiculous opener phase, the obnoxious cunt phase and the ‘total belief’ phase where we would skip lines and get into venues by walking straight past bouncers.

Then there’s the stories.

Making out with the same girls without realising it, destorying entire sections of clubs, my hooking up with an engaged deaconess, Kim developing a knack for sex in public areas, finding out a girl was 16 after a box rub makeout session, drunken afterparties with Alex~, failed double pulls, our first double pull featuring Pyro cherry ripe, Amogging by hitting the bloke with your dick, Kim copping BJ’s in clubs, pulling promo girls, major league dance team girls, it goes on and on. Coming from two different places, our adventures were usually so different. While Kimball was railing girls in alleyways, I’d be dating two or three girls.

A year on, we both destroyed our original goals of 12 girls in 12 months, have had the biggest fucking rollercoaster of highs and lows, pissed off a lot of people but made some awesome mates, and completly evolved as people.

These days, I’ve got myself a girlfriend and am putting a shitload more focus into making life head the way I want it. Getting SAF (sexy as fuck), taking up new hobbies, working in areas that I like and planning my move to Canada for a year. As for Kim you’d have to ask, I don’t think he’s knows what he’s doing. Hopefully he ends up in Canada too though.

So that’s my last year in the game. Morals of the story: it’s possible, get a wing and get motivated. Chances are you are completely underestimating the amount of shit you are capable of, cause I sure as fuck did, and still do to a lesser extent.

There really is no excuses.

To the South East Queensland crew

Manndingo, Kimball, shift, Red Leader, Matt_, J-Rad, SeanT, Syncoast, Achilles, Storm~, Juba, caveman86 and Herman

Love you cunts.

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