It’s all part of the journey – My Comeback

Sorry guys, I’ve been busy as hell of late so articles have been coming a lot slower. Plus this one is pretty big.

In a few weeks I’m off to Europe so it may stay like this for a while, but at least there will be plenty of shit to report about

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It’s all part of the journey

I hadn’t even realised until now. Looking back over the past few weeks, they have been a rollercoaster of crazy nights, coitus sessions and some of the most intense fun I have had, ever. Welcome to the life.

I was appraoching what we had deemed in my social circle to be a level 4 drought (3 months), and by fuck did it have me feeling down. I mean how does a dude who has spent so much time working towards something, striving to become a better bloke and strip away everything that holds him back, go almost three months without a girl. It’s hard to stay positive in times like this, but doing so is the shit that makes you stronger. Positivity during the shit times.

Progress always comes in bursts. Everything will be going great for a while, then you have a plateau and nothing seems to improve. You may even regress, but sticking with it is the most crucial thing, because plateaus will always end with a little perseverance. Plus, there’s nothing like an extended dry spell to brutalise any pimp ego you may have had.

For those who don’t know, pimp ego is the mindset you can find yourself in after a big bout of success, identifing yourself as “one who is good with girls”. This leads you to make conscious and subconscious decisions in the aid of protecting said ego. For example “I didn’t pick up tonight because I only approached 1 girl”. Without that pimp ego, you wouldn’t give a fuck about getting blown out, and would have approached like a machine. It also has the potential to turn you into a full dickhead in your interactions, as your communication and behaviour is filtered through the layer of ego you have built up. I digress.

As I was saying, the plateaus and regressions seem to be what build you as an indivdual operating through self esteem. I was watching Vanilla Sky recently, and now have a new quote to add to my list

“Without the bitter baby, the sweet ain’t as sweet”

Without the shit times, the regressions and the times when nothing goes right, the glory times just would not seem as amazing. The following few weeks are what I would defintely call the glory times.

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The weekend in the report “Alcoholism, gallipoli and unintersting drought breakers” was a huge turning point. The Thursday prior, I had met a cool girl, had epic hook ups and an alleyway finger bang with plans to meet up in the future. Saturday night saw a shit ton of some of the hardest blowouts to date. There’s nothing like getting slammed by a bunch of drug fuelled party sluts to deliver a royal ass fucking to any remnants of ego remaining after the two and three-quarter month dry spell. Sunday, I finally broke the drought. Despite it being a dud-root, as least the chode part of my ego had been satisfied. I was no longer a bloke who hadn’t been laid in ages.

Week One – The Rise

Something had tripped in my mind. It was time to make shit happen, get this handled. No more hiding behind any ego. It was time to get say what I want, when I want, 100% authenticity and risk having the real me blown the fuck out. I spend the week dedicating the different nights to sticking points. I start clawing again. I start telling girls they are straight up fucking adorable again. I focuss on slowing down, and being <b>loud</b>. While I had no results, I was already feeling a <b>lot</b> better. The weekend was capped off off by an epic sexual text exchange between alley girl and I. The result? A date for Monday.

Week Two – The Explosion

The date started fucking terribly. It was a long drive from her place back into the city and I had to continually cut threads and change topics to find some common ground we could talk about freely. It turned out this girl had a ridiculous amount of shit in common with me. She was a female version of me minus 3.5 years. Oh, plus she’s hot.

We end up on a terribly cliche ferris wheel overlooking the city and resort to McDonalds because everything else is closed. It didn’t matter, cause it ended in glory with Ace Ventura playing in the background.

Unfortunately, AlleyGirl had to leave the country that Friday, and it eventuated that we could not meet up again before she left. Sad.

That Thursday night is the report “Persistence and Turning your night around”. A night that started out incredibly shitty was turned around by forcefully pushing through comfort zones. Great times were had, and the number of an incredibly hot American girl was pulled.

The following night, American begins texting me. They start out as “what are you doing tonight” and slowly de(up?)grade to “i’m drunk and horny, come find me!”. At the time I was standing around with some lair guys, so the decision of what to do wasn’t all that difficult. When I find her, my eyes are blown out of their sockets. By fuck is she glorious. She’s in a tight electric blue dress (my absolute favourite colour) with no bra that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. And her voice is so fucking sweet. We alternate between chats and makeouts in Chinatown, and just when she “really has to go find her friends”, I take her into a random back room where the door just happened to be ajar and set to work. Shortly thereafter we are interrupted by a googly eyed security guard. Alas, no glory for me that night.

Saturday night stands as one of the biggest nights of my life. Drinking starts at midday, with attendance to various parties, a footy match, and a pub packed to the hilt with law students. I take it on as my duty to relieve said law buddies of their standard uptightness. I waltz up to the bar, make two nearby girls my temporary girlfriends and convince the bartendress that I deserve more then the maximum two drinks at a time due to my superiority and ninja like greatness.

I bounce between the bar and my table several times until I have built up a sufficient horde of alcomohol for the night.

This is where my night goes blank for the next 3 to 4 hours. Complete level 5 memory loss. Here is a summary of what I did over the next few hours in the order I found out, and the source of that information.

• Met a whole lot of girls, sharing my sombrero around (which I still had from the mexican party). Source: My camera. How I didn’t lose the thing is beyond me.
• Took numbers and facebooks of at least five girls. Source: My phone.
• Called Kimball and flipped the fuck out. Told him that I wanted to cry because I had made out with girls and couldn’t remember who, had lost my friends and didn’t know where the fuck I was. Source: Kimball.
• Told at least 4 girls they were my temporary girlfriend. Source: My housemate.
• Spent a whole hour chatting to (hitting on) one of my good mates girlfriends and her best friend: Source: My good mate.
• Made out with a girl within 5 minutes, took her into a back room and wallslammed her, and got kicked out by some random member of staff. Source: The same girl, 2 weeks later.
• Made out with a friend of a friend. Source: The friend, while trying to set us up.

As told by Kimball, eventually he found me and we walked to our final destination for the night. We stopped over at another bar, stole some shit and hit on promo girls on the way. All of which have been deleted from my memory courtesy of mister Smirnhoff.

The night starts to come back into focus once we are inside the next venue. This is probably due to the fact that any more alcohol would have probably killed me, hence started drinking water. A lot of alcohol seems to provide the illusion of teleportation. Awesome. We chat to some girls, meet up with Alexander~ of RSD and break some things. Some bar skank gets angry at me for repeatedly leaning over the bar taking ice, limes, straws and whatever else looked like it would fit down a girls top. Shoving shit down girls tops is definitely (not quite) my A game. Didn’t matter though, they loved it.

By now, American Girl is looking for me. We meet up, move into a corner for some make outs, introduce her to the boys, get some tequilla and high tail. People in the cab line are angry. I tell them to chill the fuck out. It’s hard to be negative when you have a glory girl on your arm.

At about 3am she calls a cab to head home. A while later my phone buzzes.

“Thanks for the fuck australia. Good night”

I love Americans.

On Sunday, I decide that the best way to go about repairing the destruction to my body which had been inflicted on Saturday is more beer. It’s me, Kimball, Alexander~, Red Leader and shift for chill times at the local. It doesn’t take long before “chill with the boys” is dogged for “beer and bitches”. Kimball’s already found a girl and is doing his thing, and I spend my night getting blown out a metric fuck ton, chatting to Alex, and watching him pull out a girls boobs at the bar while her hands are in his pants.

A girl who previously tried to cut me down appraoches me. I told her that her friend is a bitch and we chat about anal, lube and other assorted crap despite her 2.5 year boyfriend. Red Leader, Alex and I sit and chat with the friends, who are all up in our grill. The Pyro Abuse Cannon was out in force, but the girles ate it up.

Over come to bouncers to tell us to get the fuck out, due to closing time. We are all standing around out the front when I yell “AFFFTTEEERRRPARRRTYYY”, completely disregading the fact I have two sleeping housemates at home. The boyfriend girl starts whinging about not wanting to go back to a randoms house. I throw her over my shoulder and march down the street to the cab. You think she’d get angry? Her friends all crack the fuck up and and she latches onto me. Physical always wins.

An hour later, however, i decide against homewrecking even though it seemed so on. I think she sensed it too, as she freaked the fuck out after she almost pulled me into the bathroom. She calls her boy to pick her up.

So I get with her friend instead. After a whole half hour of sleep, I wake up snuggled with three girls, my car is covered in cheeseburgers, there are half empty beers everywhere, a girl sleeping on the patio and a passed out Alex on the couch.

Week Three – Bootcamp

Alex invites both Kimball and I to apply for instructor assistant positions with RSD. I am interviewed on Thursday and am told I have the job on Thursday, with bootcamp to start on Friday.

Holy shit.

You know those “A-Ha!” or “Ahhhhh” moments we all get from time to time in our journey to master the tactical insertion of penis? This weekend was not one of those. It was more of a fireworks display of neurons and cerebral matter cutting in random directions as they detached from most of what I thought I knew.

In other words, an Alexander~ bootcamp.

I may write up more on this weekend in the future.

Week Four and Five – Riding the Wave

Wednesday is a biannual wine and cheese night for a high achievers society. Here I am known for being the drunkest idiot every time, when I’m not even part of their silly club. I gots a reputation to uphold.

Hit on ubernerds. The only pretty ones had boyfriends.

Hit on ubernerds anyway.

Friday Night is the night of LR: Welshy.

Week Five is spent mostly in chill times with the boys. I am well and truly fucked from the last few weeks. We decide to make Friday a big one, though.

Manndingo, Kimball and I hit the hardest club in town. Bitches here will eat you alive for being born. Motivation levels are at their lowest, but we stick it out a little anyway. SportGirl, from Monday’s day2 ends up downstairs so I go say hi. We chat about dominance and guys who probably have vaginas. Makeout times. We make plans to meet up later as I “wanna hang out with my mates for a bit”. Cutting the story short, I text her at 3am and tell her to meet me. She calls and says shes on her way home but I am “welcome to come over”. Done. She gives me the address and I head over. It’s rare I get with a girl older then me, but I think I should do it more often. She’s only got just over a year on me at 23, but fucking hell she knew what she was doing. Good girl.

Saturday. I have never experienced such a burning desire for women. It was equivalent to my normal intent, times about 5. Then throw in some woo, a little less then my normal high energy style. If it was like this every night, all girls in a 10 foot radius would be in danger. I can’t really recount all of what happened, but many girls were approached, many dudes were befriended and an 18yr old girl was bounced around the club repeatedly between games of tonsil hockey.

These last 5-6 weeks have been the craziest yet. Almost every night is becoming an adventure. Monday night usually leaves me wondering… “I wonder what random shit I’m going to get up to this week”. Live a life of stories. This is what it’s all about. To think that a little over nine months ago I was hoping to reach double digits for the number of girls I had kissed. When I would worry about how much pain I was going to subject myself to by going out. When any story worthy adventures would be spaced out once every few weeks. When making a move on a girl was still a big deal.

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It took the downtime to force me to really take a look at my situation and figure out what was wrong. As it turns out, alignment with your purpose really is as important as they say. Once that is in order, other things, including girls, just happen.

This community CAN NOT be just about girls. Getting laid isn’t going to fill any voids, as much as you think it will. I sure as fuck thought it would. This couldn’t be further from the truth.

Cherish the bad times and get the rest of your life in order.

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