Thursday, February 28, 2008

It's the little things...

Details, gentlemen. Tiny details can be the difference between a full close and a shitty hand job.

I was cleaning my room a few nights ago, waiting for a day two to come over. I was putting away anything that I thought might be detrimental. Pickup notebook...hidden. Empty condom wrappers...thrown away. Anti-balding medication...put in the bathroom where it could be anyones.

Copy of "Infinite Jest" by David Foster Wallace...why don't we leave that one out and see what happens?

Later that evening...

Girl: Are you reading "Infinite Jest" by David Foster Wallace?
BB: Yeah.
Girl: Nice!

Pay off-Large

On a similar note, I always make sure that the "I" in any text that I send is capitalized. Sounds weird, right? Maybe, or maybe a lot of communication between humans happens below the surface. Maybe little things like back turns and having your hands in your pockets can actually affect any interaction you have with a girl.

So what does a lower case "i" feel like? To me, it feels subservient. It feels like it is not important, like it is trying to not be noticed. I used to think "i" communicated that I was laid back, easy going, or texting in a rush because I had a lot of shit to do. That might be how it reads, but is that how it looks? Just looking at it makes me want to kick sand in its puny 90 pound face.

By contrast, "I" suggests dominance, high status, confidence, and self respect. It looks like it has good posture and grooming skills. "I" have a nice car. "I" am valued in my work and social life.

Maybe capitalizing "I" doesn't actually make that big of a difference in the end. Upper case is not going to get you laid if you didn't kino escalate, qualify, and/or isolate. Still, which of the below sentences would you rather have representing you:

i hope you can keep your hands off me tonight. i took a self defense course, so watch out.
I hope you can keep your hands off me tonight. I took a self defense course, so watch out.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

DC Adventures: Day 2

I woke up and took a little walk around DC. I may have been influenced by the incredible weather and my hot digits from the night before, but I couldn't stop thinking how beautiful DC was (at least the area surrounding our hotel).

I headed back for the seminar, taking breaks occasionally to text with Mc-Hidden Tits. (For full transcript of this text interaction, check out Braddock's Blog- At the seminar I finally got to meet Puzzler and Helicase, who were both super fun and, if I may say so, snappy dressers.

Around 7:30 we finished class and got some food. I was rooming with Braddock, so we chilled in our hotel room and discussed some advanced winging techniques. This guy is a fucking monster. Insane theory and real world skills to boot, plus he is fucking hilarious. He doesn't just learn; he dissects, memorizes, categorizes, and then, best of all, he imparts. Every time he finishes a book, it looks as though it got jumped by a highlighter, then raped by box of labels.

Too bad he can't wing for shit! ;) (see DC Adventures: Day 1)

The first bar we hit for the infield was a little chill to start, but I liked it a lot. Slightly older crowd, not too loud, open deck on the 2nd floor, and plenty of nooks and crannies to isolate to. There was some sort of post-obama rally-drinks going on at a table on the first floor, which to me says, "This joint is all right!" I sort of wanted to open them just so I could talk politics, but we had a job to do.

The students were pretty timid at the start, but each of the instructors was able to find some way of getting them into set and working past their individual comfort zones. I was paired with a student who was having serious approach anxiety. He couldn't get past his pre-opener ("Do you guys know the cross streets?") to his opener, which meant he really wasn't getting to the hook point. So I started opening with him, which got him to relax almost instantly. About the third time we did this he started having fun and even improvised some conversation.

That's when the magic happened.

I'd been texting with Mc-Hidden Tits all night about when we would meet up. I was trying to push it back as late as possible so I could work with the students, but they randomly ended up at the same bar as us around 12:45, which meant I had to do some quick thinking! Luckily, she had brought her friend, MudBeast, along with her. I introduced MudBeast to the student, had him give her the opening, then isolated Mc-Hidden Tits to a couch downstairs.

I tried to jump into kino, but she was a little timid sitting on the couch. Once I saw that it wasn't working there, I moved us to a table, but it wasn't happening there either, so I took her to the bar and sat down in a stool so she could stand between my legs. THAT did it! My hands were in her pockets, her hands were on my legs, I was kissing her neck, she was pulling at my belt. It was money.

The lesson here? Don't just do the same thing and expect different results. If somethings not working, then alter, adapt, adjust, improvise, and lastly, overcome.

(For more approach breakdowns from this bootcamp, check out Godan's review on the Attraction Forum)

I told her I was going to the bathroom, then jumped upstairs to check on the student, and saw that he had isolated the MudBeast! This from not even being able to approach!

I helped a few other kids into set and gave some more notes, then, around 2am, bounced Mc-Hidden Tits, MudBeast and the student-who was now doing a VERY respectable job of winging-back to the hotel. Without a proper way to separate Mc-Hidden Tits from the MudBeast, I sent her friend up to the hotel room with the student, then pulled Mc-Hidden Tits into the lobby bathroom and hooked up with her there.

That's where I discovered that her tits, which I had assumed were small, were actually amazing! (Hence the name) How she achieved the feat of hiding such incredible bounty from plain view is beyond me and my rudimentary understanding of conventional physics. My only theory is that her bra someone harnessed the power of special relativity, thereby bending space-time to her will.

As we were getting dressed I asked her how good of a kisser she thought she was on a scale of 1-10.

HT: I don't know. 6.

BB: No. 8. How good do you think you're breasts are?

HT: Um...5 1/2?

BB: 9. Easy. How good are your blow jobs? (she had not blown me yet)

HT: A lady never tells.

BB: Dude. We're in a bathroom.

HT: (laughs) You've got a point.

I got a text a few minutes after putting her in a cab.

HT: 7.

The force is strong with this one.

Check back soon for the exciting conclusion!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

LR: Double Trouble - Adorable & Orgasmo

Whilst working on the most recent NYC bootcamp with The Don, Braddock and DaHunter, I had a few personal breakthroughs, not the least of which being able to pole-vault from half a mile away into comfort. Using this technique, I hooked up with two girls that I met within a half our of each other.

I spent most of the infield working with the students, helping some through their approach anxiety and others with the more advanced specifics. On the second night I looked around and saw all the students either in set or talking with instructors, so I decided to have a little fun with my short break.

I found three girls by the bar, so I stood at the bar next to them with my cell out, pretending to text. I turned to the closest one (who was not hot) but addressed the group.

"Do you guys know the cross streets here?"
"Bla bla bla bla."
"Did you just come from upstairs?"
"Is it lame?"
"It's loud. And hot. And crowded"
"So that's a 'yes'. Just to let you know, that's a 'yes', so if anyone asks you from now on, you know what to say."

I played operator with them (where you say something at one end of a line and have them whisper it down and see if it comes out the same), hit some attraction spikes, kino'd and negged the cute one (Orgasmo), then left when I saw a student without anything to do. This was around 1:30am.

I took the student on a lap around the bar to find a set for him to open. He had that look on his face like he was finished, though. He'd done a lot of good work that night, approached a lot of sets and made some progress, and now he was tired.

I found a very tall blond talking to a short blond (Adorable) and told the student to go open it. He stared at it for a second then said, "I think I'm done for tonight."

No problem.

I led the student away from the dance area, which was very loud, hot and crowded. I turned around and saw Adorable had also bailed on the dance area, so I looked over my shoulder towards her. "Do you know a really lame and crowded place we can hang out?"

"I think we just left one."

"That place was pretty lame and crowded, but this is New York. There must be lamer and crowded-er places to go hang out in."

"I don't think crowded-er is a word."

"You must not be very smart."

She opened right up after that. I moved her around the bar a little bit, but didn't want to ignore the students too much, so I sort of sprinted through some qualification. I would wait for her to do or say something mildly cool, then respond with praise.

"You're incredible. I'm pretty smart, but I'm running out of words for how cool you are."

Easily the quickest pickup I've ever done. She was squeezing my ass and grinding against my crotch within 10 minutes of meeting me. I kissed her on the neck. She squealed and said, "I love that!" I responded, "Then you and I are going to get along, because I love doing that." I got her number, then went back to the students.

As I left the venue, I took a quick lap to find Orgasmo and get her number. She was with her friends.

BB: "I thought I told you to come find me again."
Orgasmo: "I tried, but we got caught up."
BB: "Come here. I'm gonna punish you."

I pulled her into isolation.

"I think you might be a little bit cool, so put your number in my phone and I'll call you this week."

Setting up the dates was cake. They both texted back and picked up on my first phone call. I took them on almost identical dates. Two bar bounce ending at my apartment.

With Orgasmo I made fun of her for being the kind of girl who likes fruity drinks. "You're not going to like this bar," I said, "They don't serve anything out of coconuts, but I brought some tiny umbrellas. You can put them in your mai tai if you want." We chatted for a bit about photography and how both of us used to have a great time making prints in dark rooms before digital got so big. "I've got some great prints that I did in college. You should come over and check them out, but you have to leave after that because I've got work in the morning."

I have never hooked up with a girl who was so easy to get off, hence the name Orgasmo. It was like her body was made of clit.

With Adorable I teased her for her trying to rape me within 20 minutes of meeting me. She told me about all the traveling that she'd done and all the odd jobs she's had. "You know what I like about you? You're adventurous. You do what you feel is right without letting what people tell you get in the way. Do you have any tattoos?"

"Yeah. Guess where."

"Why do I have to guess, when I'm just going to find them later tonight?"

I was about 2 minutes away from kissing her when she jumped me in the bar just as I was starting to tell a story. It was a small thing to pull her to my apartment after that, stopping every two blocks or so to do some more street making out.

And in case you were curious: outer left thigh and right foot.

Friday, February 15, 2008

DC Adventures: Day 1

After having worked with The Don and Braddock in NYC and Austin, I was invited to help out with the DC boot camp. Shenanigans were to ensue, I was sure.

I landed in DC on Thursday afternoon. I could already tell it was going to be a charmed trip (all four days there the weather was PERFECT!). I left with just enough time to get to the airport, I caught the metro as soon as I landed, and just as I was thinking, "I hope the stop I randomly chose to get off at has a Chipotle close by. I'm hungry," guess what I should see as I turn the corner on 7th street? Burrito me, mutha fucka!

I stumbled around until I found a hotel I could pretend to be a guest at so I might check my email and figure out where The Don had booked us. This, also, was complete cake. I did some sight seeing (the Washington Monument has a scary old tree on the lawn. The Reflecting Pool is covered in goose shit) then met up with Braddock at the hotel for the daily free booze hour.

Livin' large, bitches!

We hit the section of town known as Adam's Morgan for dinner and more drinking. We bounced around to a few different bars and were delighted to see that even though it was quiet, there were still plenty of very attractive ladies around. We eventually found our way to Heaven and Hell, where we watched some local DC magic happen.

The entire town dresses like DC interns, but this one dude was owning the dance floor like I've never seen.

BB: Don, Braddock. You gotta check this guy out. This girl is following this guy around the dance floor like he's got the antidote.

It was incredible. He would dance with her, drive her crazy, then push her away and go to someone else. She was on him like a fucking magnet! I watched him for a good 15 minutes and the energy only intensified. We should have invited him with us as guest lecturer.

We jumped into a cab and asked the driver to take us to someplace really busy. By this time Braddock and The Don were pretty wasted. Braddock had tricked The Don into drinking some cider, which did not make The Don happy.

Don: What the fuck, dude?! Cider?!
Braddock: "HARD." It says "HARD Cider," right on the label.
BB: That does not make it hard, Braddock. Quite the opposite.

At the second bar I opened a two set: one super cute and exactly my type (thin and nerdy, here for known as Mc-Hidden Tits) the other...not so much. The Don referred to her as MudBeast.

BB: Is the outside patio open?
HT: I don't think so.
BB: That makes Daddy sad.
HT: How come?
BB: I like hanging out in the fake outdoors. I go camping with servants and a grand piano. Stuff like that.
BB: Is this the hot bar in town?
HT: It's all right. Are you not from here?
BB: I'm from NY. My friends and I are here for a bachelor party, but the rest of the group doesn't get here until tomorrow (LIES!).
MB: I want to party with your skeeziest friends.
BB: (to obstacle) I like you better than your friend here. I've been talking to you all of five seconds and she didn't offer to hang out ONCE! Rude much?

They laugh. It is on.

I text The Don and Braddock to come wing for me, but tragically they are too drunk to distract and not nearly drunk enough to want to make out with the MudBeast (Thanks guys! You are never allowed to teach winging ever again). I take a cab back with the ladies, and spend the entire cab ride pushing away Mc-Hidden Tits and accusing her of trying to rape me, all the while putting my hands up the back of her shirt (heavy kino in a way that her friend would never notice).

I cannot isolate, but I get solid digits and a promise to hang out the next night. As I'm leaving the cab I text her, "Try not to rape your friend on the way back home."

(For full text breakdown of this seduction, go to Braddock's blog-

We all crash out around 4am. Big weekend ahead...

FR: TallOne aka Dr. Feelgood is the greatest human being alive.

I met a girl on my most recent bootcamp with Future and Fader. It was 1:30am, and I was seeing a student into what would probably be his last set of the evening, when I saw an opportunity to open that was too good to pass up. Two super cute girls, one short and one tall. I put my foot on the chair next to them and announced, "I don't care when your friend is coming back, I'm putting my foot on this chair."
"We're not saving that chair for anyone."
"I don't care. This is my foot's chair now. Get used to it not belonging to your friend anymore."

They opened right up. I locked in by leaning back against the bar with the two girls at either side. My student came back, so I basically split my time between gaming the tall girl and trying to DHV the student to the short one, who he seemed more interested in.

ShortOne (to me): Are you really a comedian?
Me: Have you bored my awesome friend already? Go and try to win back his love. I'm busy trying not to get annoyed to death by your tall friend here.

TallOne was all over me. Within 8 minutes she was pressing herself against my junk and putting her hands on my chest, laughing at everything I had to say. She even jumped right into my sexual frame.

Me: Is your friend here wearing a cool tee-shirt also?
TallOne: No. I dressed her today.
Me: Tell me again, only slowly.
TallOne: I took off the shirt she was wearing and she started rubbing oil all over herself.
Me: And what were you doing?
TallOne: I was touching myself.

Stick a fork in this one. She's done.

This girl was ready to rock, and it was mainly because of a valuable lesson I had just learned: when a girl is giving you vibe, pretend that she has just won your interest. She gave me her number, and to reward her I sent her a text that read, "You are a rockstar." She got it, looked at it, then shot me a huge smile and put her hands all over me again.

TallOne: You couldn't be cooler.

I know, TallOne.

At this point it was 2am and bootcamp was nearly over. I have a day job, also, that I really wanted to go home and sleep for. I was not worried about losing this girl, so I left, promising to call her later.

She texted me a few times that night, trying to get me to meet her out at another bar.

We shot texts back and forth till the next weekend, when we both had time to finally get back together. I tried to get her out earlier, but she kept bailing and pushing it off for a reason that would soon become very...shall we say...visible?

Around 11pm her friends joined Dr. Feelgood and I at a bar for flirting and good times. It was clearly on. I only needed to not suddenly turn retarded for this to end in sex. Dr. Feelgood can verify this.

About 20 minutes into our interaction I notice a red spot on her lip. Now, this could be a lot of things, so at first I wasn't worried. Sure, part of my brain declared that it was herpes and that we shouldn't have sex with her, but the other half quite rightly declared that it might not be herpes, and so we should have sex with her. Luckily, I had a Doctor with me to offer a second opinion.

Me: Please tell me that's not herpes on the lip of the girl who's going to have sex with me.
Dr. Feelgood: Where? Oh shit. That's herpes. We need to get the fuck out of here.

Suddenly it all made sense. We had a date earlier in the week that she canceled (because of her herpes outbreak), then when I tried to set up a date later she was hesitant, which translated now into "I'll have to wait and see if the herpes goes away by then." Apparently, it hadn't, as it wasn't fully gone by today yet.

Dr. Feelgood has been an incalculable help in advancing my game, but that night he went above and beyond the call of duty. I would have fucked that girl had he not been there to give clarity to my alcohol addled brain, and in doing so he has elevated his rank from "Super Awesome Dude" to "Greatest Human Being Alive."

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

LR: Guggenheim

Dr. Feelgood invited me out to a party series over at the Guggenheim museum, held the first Friday of every month. $25 and a long line for non-members. Free and a short line for members. We became members.

The event was a bit difficult for gaming. The ground floor, where all of the booze and action was taking place, featured a dj and huge speakers which made it difficult to chat. No booze was allowed in the art areas, and so the sets there were fewer and far between. In addition, DF and I were baby sitting a novice with no field experience; trying to get him into set, and offering advice before and after.

After a few hours of wandering around, checking out the art and getting into a few disappointing sets, I found myself downstairs getting a beer with our novice friend, who was stressing out about not having anything to open with. I am a huge fan of improvising sets, and so tried to give him the benefit of my experience.

“You can use anything, literally. Just look around you, use your visual stimuli to get an idea, then plug it in.”

I saw out of the corner of my eye, just as I was saying this, one of the most amazingly douche bag-y looking Euro trash pricks I’ve ever seen. He had these incredibly stupid and expensive looking glasses on.

“That guy is an opening waiting to happen,” I told my novice friend, who simply shook me off.

“What am I supposed to say about that guy?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

To make the point, I pulled over the closest possible set without even checking to see if anyone in it was cute. It ended up being two girls and one guy. One of the girls, the tall, not cute one, was with the guy (I found out later). The other one, Guggenheim, a cute, short asian, was flying solo tonight.

“I’m going to show you guys the best thing in this entire museum.”

They were sufficiently entertained by the sight, though Guggenheim was far too short to see from her current vantage point, so I moved her away from her friends to check the dude out, and consequently kept her there for flirting and conversation. I found out that she was a resident at a hospital that was really close to the museum, and also really close to her apartment (make the connection yet, fellas?). I made fun of her for only being a resident at the hospital, not being a real doctor, but a fake doctor instead, or half doctor, and called her a liar for introducing herself as a doctor at first. Enter the lying game.

I moved her up to see the art and started the comfort work. I went through my usual comfort/DHV material: my family, my adventures in Europe and Mexico, and my work as a writer and photographer. Around 1am they started to close down the art areas, so we bounced to a bar near her apartment where we sat in a booth for some serious kino escalation. I felt good about the interaction and so bailed on any practiced kiss closes and just went in. She responded very well, and after a few minutes of heavy street making out I hit her with, “Let me walk you home." At her door she asked me if I wanted to come up and get some water. “Okay," I responded, "So long as you don’t try to take advantage of me.”

As soon as we were in her apartment the seduction was on auto pilot. “I’ll bet you think you’re going to get lucky tonight,” she said, as she led me by my hand to her bed. “I’m not usually this kind of girl,” she whispered as she took off my pants and put my dick in her mouth. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” with the last words muffled for obvious reasons.

Now, I had brought condoms with me, but they were in my car (the smart place for them), so at the pre-insertion moment I asked, “Do you have any condoms?”

“Yeah, they’re the cheap kind they give away at the hospital I work for.”
“That fills me with incredible confidence. Thank you.”

Minutes later, my necklace was dangling from my neck, smacking her in the face periodically as we went at it.

Membership to the Guggenheim Museum: $75.
Meeting a cute, short asian girl to have sex with periodically for the next few weeks: priceless.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

The Essential Attitude

I was in Austin, Texas a few weeks ago, working The Don's bootcamp with Braddock. On the second night a few of the students and I were moving to our second bar when one of them pulls me aside.

Student 1: "So, Big Business...what's it like knowing you can walk into a bar and have sex with any girl in there?"

I paused for a moment before answering, because I knew something was wrong about the question, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. In the moment before I could respond, one of the other students answered for me.

Student 2: "That's not how it works."

Yes and no, Student 2. Yes and no.

While I agree that nobody goes 5 for 5 (everybody gets blown out on occasion), there was a reason why I didn't answer right away, and that's because I had to ask myself, "How does it feel to know that I can walk into a bar and have sex with anyone I want?"

I didn't recall, remember, or realize right off the bat, that I don't go 5 for 5. I seriously had to stop and three-point-turn my brain around the idea that I'm not infallible.

But that's a good thing.

I've developed the attitude that I CAN walk into the bar and have sex with any girl I want, and that, in part, is why I've been so successful recently. I am not perfect and do not pick up 100% of the girls that I approach, but that's not important. What is important is that I think I am 100% while I'm approaching a set. In one of Sinn's bootcamps, during the inner game section, I remember him saying that a belief does not have to be true to be useful, and this is a perfect example.

After recounting to Future the story of my first same night lay, I told him that I thought I was just lucky; that I didn't want to sound like I was god's gift to game.

"No. Don't think like that. This is one of the few areas where it's useful to be overly confident in your abilities."

I'm not suggesting that you brag or talk trash about how indestructible you are, and by all means go home and think about everything you did wrong so you can fix the bad behaviors, but if you enter a room knowing in you heart that you can sleep with anyone in there, then 1/2 the work is already done. And any negative experiences will just roll right off your shoulders.

As Braddock would say, "Fuck it. You've got 3 super models waiting for you in your bed."