Yes gentlemen, everything you've been told about how to pick up chicks--stepping hard while showing intent and physically escalating--is a lie. The truth is that a stupid-looking pug and a camera are all you need. Put sunglasses, hats, and silly outfits on your pug and take pictures and video. Transfer these pics to a smart phone or tablet for portability and easy viewing.
Then simply go out in public where there are cute girls and start showing them pics and vids of your pug. You don't even have to talk to them first, just walk up with a cute pic showing on the screen of your phone in your outstretched hand. Within seconds they will be craving your cock, and all you need to do is pick one of the girls and take her somewhere to get banged. I could and should have bought at least one pug and one camera for the money I paid Manwhore for the bootcamp.
So, you don't believe me that Pug Game is all you need? A goofy-looking pug will help smooth out some wrinkles from time to time, but she is not Manwhore's Secret Weapon.
Manwhore the Vajedi
Fortunately and unfortunately, for Manwhore and all of us out there who want to be an icy pimp, Manwhore and the training program he has created is the Secret Weapon. I say unfortunately because there is only one of him to go around, and his time is valuable.
He is a man on a mission. And that mission is to get himself and his students laid. Everything he does with you during the infield program is designed to achieve that end. I brought that part up about him getting himself laid because that's why I am here writing the review in the first place. Everything I'm writing about in this review was made possible only by his burning desire to get more and higher quality pussy with as little time and effort as possible.
Manwhore is different from all of the other dating coaches and seduction gurus in that he never had trouble getting his pencil sharpened. Ever. He was never awkward nerd or social outcast. He didn't stumble upon game one day after the love of his life left him for a badboy with a motorcycle because he has always been the badboy with the motorcycle. And he's really fucking smart too. Underneath the Affliction shirts and sparkly earrings is a seduction surgeon and ta-ta tactician. While he's out having fun his mind is calculating and planning. Except that he's still "out of his head."
Not out of his mind like you might believe, but out of his head. He's not thinking about thinking, he's simply assessing the situation as it unfolds and making moves or corrections as necessary. I don't mean to make this behavior sound passive because while this is happening he is the clear social leader of the group. On the spectrum from reactive to unreactive to proactive he's all the way on the right except when he needs to be in the middle. Because sometimes you just need to chill and let the girls talk themselves into sucking your dick.
I felt the need to make the points above because its very important to me, the program, and his coaching. There are coaches out there who can teach guys how to get girls, and their guys get results. Yet many of these guys came from a place of lack or unresolved bitterness, and it leaks out in the way they do things. Maybe they can teach guys how to get a girl for a night but not keep her around. Maybe they can teach guys how to get a girlfriend, but not turn a girl out that night they meet her. What I'm getting at here is that many other instructors are incomplete as men, and thus their game and coaching is incomplete. Manwhore is the wholesome real deal--the legendary natural who also trained over time in psychology, coaching, motivation, and pickup. A man who sets standards for himself so high that he's always improving.
He told me that at times he was not getting the results he wanted, so he would analyze his own game and ask others for their opinions and advice. Bit by bit he's improved his game, and his coaching, such that I feel confident making the claim that he could not get any better at cold approach pickup. The only level above his game is fame game, and he has projects in the works to get himself there.
Anyways, back to me. I'll be brief because I've covered this before elsewhere, but here goes. I did not have trouble getting girlfriends when I was younger and lost my virginity at 16. In college and afterwards I had a hot girlfriend and messed around with other girls on the side.
After college I made the mistake of going to law school and drinking myself fat and depressed. I became bitter and angry, and, for the most part, repelled women. They wanted to be my friend, sometimes. I did hook up with some girls but they were either fat, had low self-esteem, or both. I've spent the last five years of my life trying to pull myself out of that hole and to restore my former glory.
Yet, even with all of the progress I thought I had made, I felt no closer to getting laid. It got to the point where I didn't even bother anymore. Yeah, I might talk to girls who were friends of friends or maybe chat up a stranger at the bar, but I wasn't getting anywhere with those conversations, and, for the most part, I wasn't getting anywhere with those conversations because I was afraid. It became so easy to limit my social life to drinking with my co-workers, and then waste the next day on the internet while nursing a hangover.
I worked at jobs with pretty girls who flirted with me, and saw pretty girls when I was at the gym or on public transportation, but I never had the courage to actually go talk to them or to express my intent to have sex with them. As the two year anniversary of the last time I had sex rolled around I was desperate, and,to make things worse, I was living in a mountain resort town with way more dicks than chicks. I finally decided to do something about my situation.
Beginnings with Manwhore
In December I contacted Manwhore about his long-term coaching program. Since I've already written a review of that program, I will not go into it in too much detail here. What I do want to say is that his long-term coaching program, in an of itself, is enough to turn your life around if you listen to him and do what he says. If you are honest and provide him with detailed feedback, he will guide you to where you want to be--you will fuck hot girls.
Unfortunately for me I was drowning in egoic fear, and thus did not listen to him, do the drills, or take the prescribed action. Weeks went by with me doing nothing and him patiently trying to motivate me. In the end he finally got through to me and I started to see amazing results when I did the drills and took action. If only I would have listened to him in the first place I could have saved the money that I paid for bootcamp.
For me personally, the long-term coaching program laid the necessary foundation for the bootcamp. Before the bootcamp I was able to approach hot girls from time to time and had developed my charisma through doing the drills. Looking back now, the most important benefits of the long-term coaching program were, first, self-confidence and building charisma, and, second but absolutely vital to the success of the bootcamp, was my trust in and rapport with Manwhore.
In the past when I went to see psychologists or therapists, I trusted them enough to go to the sessions and talk to them, or maybe read a book they recommended, but there was still a distance between us. I vowed to be completely honest with them, and I was, but it wasn't enough for the therapy to be successful. My trust in them was too weak to overcome my egoic fear. My walls were low enough that I could see over them, but they were high enough that they stood in the way of my making progress. After the long-term coaching with Manwhore, there were no walls at all.
Between my trust in him and the investment that I made in that trust--paying for the bootcamp--I flew to Las Vegas ready to master this skillset once and for all, and end my dryspell.
First night of bootcamp he picks me up in his convertible, red sports car and we zip over to his house. I am greeted by Lucy the little retard. She is so damn cute. The night before I went to Surrender by myself and choded around like a little faggot for most of the night. Reviews of this place make such a big deal about how perfect the sound system is such that no matter where you are in this large outside area, the sound is still loud and clear. I tried making a few approaches but I felt like I was yelling over the sound system, the girls I did talk to weren't interested, and my throat became sore. The talent, especially the girls working there, was amazing.
So the next night back at Manwhore's house I spent some time telling him about the night before and what I did. It didn't take him long to figure out my biggest weakness and then walk me through some drills to overcome it. He sat there patiently with me doing the drills and then having me practice them on my own. He turned the EDM up loud enough so that I had to do the drills over the music, just like if I was in a real club. He had me do the drills until his female assistant arrived.
He had me spend at least an hour on a series of vocal drills. I have always been a mumbler and a low-talker. I'm over 30 years old and I had no idea how much this issue was holding me back in life. During the long-term coaching program Manwhore asked me a few times in emails to get a recorder so he could hear my approaches, but I ignored him. The point of the vocal drills is to teach you how to project and protect your voice.
As I progressed through the drills--both for developing masculine projection and the "million dollar" mouthpiece--I felt energy and excitement building inside. Doing the drills properly seems to release some chemicals in my brain--yes I guess I'm in love with the sound of my own voice--and feelings of confidence surged through me. When your voice which forever sounded stifled now sounds powerful and masculine its an amazing rush, and you want to share it with girls and any guys who will listen. It's like I set myself on fire!
I felt like a pro until he turned the music up and forced me to do new drills with his assistant over the sound of the loud electronic music to simulate what it would be like in the club. I still do the drills any time I'm feeling stifled, and often do them in conjunction with drills that he gave me for the long-term coaching program. He told me that for years he would do the same series before going on stage.
Sexy Assistant Seminar
His assistant: this girl is hot and I like how she rolls. Manwhore managed to get her to come over to work with me in between her job and modeling gigs. She's witty and whip smart, which makes her perfect for the drills he prescribed.
The first drill he had me do with her involved approaching her while projecting my voice over the music. He had me do this drill until he was satisfied with both my vocal projection and my million-dollar mouthpiece. I had to keep the conversation going. At first this was very difficult as this hot baby doll put me into my head and left me searching for the "right" thing to say. She always had a comeback and it was clear from her face and body language when you were on point or stepping weakly.
Over the course of the evening, he instructed me and guided me through a series of drills with his assistant until he felt I was ready for real life.
After she left, Manwhore and I got ready to go out in Vegas. He takes me out to Stoney's Rockin Country which is apparently the place to be on Thursdays. Its super loud and the talent sucks. The hottest girls there that night work there. He pushes me really hard to open a suspected tranny. I don't have anything against trannies, but I didn't pay him for bootcamp to hit on trannies.
After the tranny delay, my approach anxiety was through the roof. I felt like the loud music was pushing me into my head and I couldn't think of an opening line. Amazingly enough he got me to open a few girls, and his method for doing so was pure genius. First he tried dancing like a foolish, drunken starfish and that only made me laugh. Then, since my guard was down because I was laughing, he grabbed my hand, dragged me over to a girl, and tapped her on the shoulder with my own hand. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective.
He drove us over to the Cosmopolitan casino. Gawd I love this place. Marquee night club is on the third or fourth floor of the lobby and there are nice bars on each floor going up to it. You can catch girls who are gambling, wandering around, going out dancing, or coming from dancing. Either way I feel like a kid in a candy shop at Disneyworld on Christmas morning.
Lots of guys prefer the clubs because of the concentration of hotties in one place, but the Cosmo lobby is my favorite hands down. Manwhore tried to get me to open a few groups of girls, but I wasn't feeling them. I had a tendency to bail the second something felt weird or if the girl pissed me off. I told him that I would pick my next set.
First Whiff of Success
We were standing by the Bond Bar inside of the Cosmo lobby and I saw this thin girl with black hair standing at the bar in a long black dress talking to her friend. I opened with something incredibly clever like, "What's up? What are you two doing?" My girl seemed skeptical but receptive right off the bat, while her unattractive friend was playing the role of Mother Hen.
After a few minutes of small talk I felt like I had their attention and my girl was into me, but I didn't want to lose her to her friend, so I called Manwhore over and introduced him. He handled the friend for a little bit so I could talk to my girl.
My girl was a gorgeous--Manwhore said an 8.5--upper class latina who was in town celebrating her 21st birthday. I don't remember much of what I said to her--this is the one "downside" of going into a verbal flow state where you are completely out of your head and not thinking about what you're saying--besides making fun of her necklace.
She was wearing this expensive-looking long black dress but had a silly, Vegas-themed necklace on that totally didn't go with her outfit. I asked her if she won it out of a slot machine. I make me laugh. Manwhore slipped off again to leave me to handle both girls at the same time. I thought that I was doing well and everything was going just fine.
Apparently, I wasn't leading and Manwhore decided to step in and take charge. The girls wanted pizza so he showed us where to get pizza. While they were eating he disappeared again. Its funny because he doesn't actually leave, but its like he pulls out his phone and that activates his cloaking shield.
In the course of the conversation I turned into bull in a china shop. Every time the Mother Hen said something that I didn't like I would bash her over the head with two witty comebacks. Apparently by the end I had fried her brain, killed the fun, and cockblocked myself. It was too bad that I turned into an arrogant prick because Manwhore told me that my girl wanted to fuck me and her friend had given the green light. I asked him how he knew and he told me it was when the friend said, "I had my wild nights when I was younger and now its her turn."
His ability to read the interaction so well and pick up on the friend's covert communication really impressed me, but not as much as what he was about to do.
We left those two and headed down the escalators down to the first floor.
Abracadabra: Manwhore Makes a Ginger Disappear
There were two yummy little chicas waiting for us at the bottom of the escalator. A little latina with enhanced boobies and a petite redhead. I don't remember much about talking to my girl because I was paying attention to what the Vajedi was doing. He approached, said something funny, smiled, and then she leaned into him for a kiss. And by leaned in, I mean she grabbed him into her and began passionately kissing his mouth.
She said "let's get out of here" and he took her hand and led her towards the parking garage. I didn't see him for at least an hour. In terms of "rapid escalation" and jedi mind tricks, his presence caused her to pull him in less than a minute (I swear on my mother). She did all of the "work," because he showed up exuding sexuality and being awesome.
Fumbling the Ball on the 1 Yard Line
We left Cosmo and went over to the Hardrock. Manwhore saw three girls walking across the casino floor toward the elevators. He yelled out to them, "Hey blue dress and green dress!" and blue dress turned her head to look over her shoulder and her face lit up. Manwhore told me we needed to catch up to them fast before they get into the elevator.
We jumped into the elevator with them. The girls said that they're going to the 7th floor and Manwhore did his little retard dance and said, "That's our floor too!" We went up with them to their floor, while making smalltalk and being goofy. We walked down the hall with them and when we get to the door they tell us we can't come in and we agree. But then we see a big spread of food on the table inside--sandwiches and pizza--and Manwhore exuberantly invites himself in and helps himself to food. I followed behind.
While we were pigging out two of the girls put their drunk friend, green dress to bed so she can pass out. Manwhore and I eat some food while we chat with the girls. He moves one of them, black dress to the couch and shows her pictures of his dumb dog while I talk to the other, blue dress.
I pushed her up against the wall in the living room part of their hotel suite. Soon talking becomes light petting and Manwhore--always coaching--tactfully, with happy dominance, blurts out that it would be so great if she and I went into the other room so we can have some privacy. I pull her around the center wall into the bedroom area.
I decide to tell her a story about Lil Wayne. She was more interested in making out with me than hearing my story, but I refused to kiss her until I finished it. There are two beds, but one is occupied by a drunk girl, green dress. I slid my hand down the front of my girls' panties while kissing her and she welcomes my fingers with slippery hotness. So, we're making out and I'm escalating, but I can hear Manwhore telling his stupid pug stories to the other girl and I'm trying not to laugh. I am impressed by his ability to keep her occupied and content. By this time its about 5am and I am super tired, have a monster headache, and the booze is wearing off.
I lead the girl to the bathroom and she's totally down. But after several minutes I'm too tired and my head hurts too much, so I walk out of the bathroom, get Manwhore, and we leave. All in all I was amazed that I was fingering a girl less than 10 minutes after meeting her, and, if circumstances had been different, banging her within 15 minutes.
He orchestrated the whole thing and all I had to do was not fuck up. Everything from the way he shouted at the girls from across the lobby, to the way he got us on the elevator, up to their floor, into their room, and then occupied the potential cockblock--that impressed me more than anything I had heard of or seen yet. He basically anointed me signaling to the girls that I was a sex worthy man and that one of them should fuck me. I never knew that whole experience was possible for me.
I go back to my hotel and pass out. I wake up sometime in the afternoon, get some food, and then go to the gym. After showering up I head out to meet Manwhore. Well, that was the plan, but sometimes life throws you for a loop. After waiting for him for about 25mins, I started approaching on my own outside. This was my first foray into daygame. I made a few approaches that went nowhere, and then decided to sit down off to the side out in front of Harrah's.
As I was sitting there this hot girl and her friend walk by and they are looking at me. At the time I was wearing an awesome t-shirt, so I thought it might be that. The not-hot one asks me to take a picture. When she asked me to take a picture I said, "What?" The hot one came over and asked me right after that and I reluctantly got up to take a picture. She handed me the camera and I asked her, "What do you want me to take a picture of?" She looked puzzled and then laughed and said, "Umm...us." I took their picture a few times. Then the hot one wants to get her picture taken with me, but I didn't let her at first. Then I said yes. After the picture she tried to high-five me, but I slipped away.
So I sat there pissed off on this fake rock and this old tubby guy sat down next to me. He decided to have a smoke while waiting for his wife. I tried explaining "Game" to him, but after about 10 minutes I gave up because homeboy was hopeless. He kept pointing to his wedding ring and saying, "Well, I've been married for 35 years." His ballbreaking bowling-ball of a wife came out soon afterwards. Oh boy.
Five minutes after that the two girls from earlier walked by again, this time with frozen daquiris in hand. Since I lived in New Orleans for 4 years I have a warm place in my heart for a frozen daquiri. I walk up and say, "What are you drinking?" The hot one giggles, tells me, and offers me some. I drink half of it while my arm is around her and we talk. Not-hot goes off to sit down and pout. I get hotties number and try to determine what they're doing later.
I'm dumb and think I should be more focused on waiting for Manwhore instead of trying to get laid, so I basically strike-out on this softball. Hot says she needs to get not-hot home because she's wasted and pukey. I should have been a gentleman and walked them to their hotel room and tucked the cockblocked in, but I didn't.
They took off and I started walking in the other direction. I talked to a few groups of girls while walking. One of the groups walked around with me for a while. One was a blond american hammer and the other was a hot polish girl with black hair and blue eyes. I tried to find out where they would be later, but then got a call from Manwhore. Thinking that he was finally ready, I answered the call. He said he was on his way and tells me where to meet him.
While walking to meet him I see the hottest chick I've seen yet. 5'10" blond with white t-shirt on over her bikini. It took me about a minute to get up the courage to approach her. She was walking in front of me and the sidewalk was very crowded, so it took me a minute or two to catch up to her. When I finally caught up to her I said, "Hey! You're the hottest girl I've seen in Las Vegas." Her response was something like, "Haha, no way. I look like shit." I walked with her for a bit longer making small talk but then my heart and brain felt like they were going to explode from the rush of adrenaline so I bailed. Within 2 mins I was sitting next to Manwhore in his car and I was still so pumped up that I couldn't talk right.
Second Seminar: Time to Get Physical and Lead Her to Glory
We head over to his house for the seminar portion of the second day. His model-assistant joins us again. He has me review some of the drills from the day before, gives me a breakdown of what I did and did not do with the girls from last night, and then we get started on the new drills. Assistant and I have solid rapport by now so tonight's drills go better than last night.
The focus of the second day of seminar and drills was leading and physical escalation. Manwhore required that I properly execute the drills from the night before while learning the new drills. So if the night before it was open while projecting fun and authority, then tonight was opening while projecting fun and authority and then lead. We went through a series of drills wherein I lead her around his house to get her used to submitting to my lead.
After that he showed me how to integrate the physical and the verbal. Its like escalation kung fu or tai chi. Your hands are touching her lightly but demonstrating that you know how to possess her body while your words and eye contact are slowly penetrating her thoughts and emotions. Everything--when properly executed--puts her in "state" within seconds. Then you add in the leading.
He showed me a few of his patented secret moves which I won't describe here. Up until this point in the training we had been standing the whole time. He decided to move it the couch and demonstrate smooth seated escalation. This stuff is also amazing and must be seen in person. The gist of it is that you make it clear to her that you could take it or leave it, all while demonstrating control over her body.
At the end the assistant was definitely in to me, but we had other girls to get. It was time to shower up and head out.
Second Crack at Las Vaginas
Manwhore takes us to Tao. Gawd I hate that place. Pushy bouncers, super dark, insanely loud music. I want to strangle the asshole who did the study that showed that the louder the music the more people drink. Manwhore tries to get me to open a few sets, but the girls aren't hot and the few hot chicks are in the most crowded, loudest place in the club. I pulled him in and was about to tell him that I'm walking out, but he sees that I'm about to lose my mind, so he says "Let's go."
This ability to read his students is one of his strongest assets as a coach. He knows how much he can push you--he will push you hard, but he also knows when its time to back off. I was about to turn away and walk out and he could read this in my face. There were many times in this training where he pushed me far beyond that with which I was comfortable, but this time he intuitively knew that pushing me would accomplish nothing.
After leaving Tao, we end up at the Aria. My brain and emotions light up when I spot a gorgeous redhead. She's power-walking towards me on a diagonal. Bright blue dress, flowing red hair, sparkly shoes. I make the decision to go talk to her in a split second. I take off, intercept her and blurt out, "Hey where's the party tonight?" Annoyed, she looks at me and does not stop her power-walking. I am rushing to catch up, half side-stepping and half walking backwards.
I bumped into one person, still trying to talk, and thought I saw someone else out the corner of my eye and flinched. She saw this. I'm not coordinated enough to rapidly walk backwards while thinking of amazing things to say. I basically repeated "Where's the party? Where are you going? Where to go dancing?" a few times. She said she didn't know and looked irritated.
Just as she was about to turn the corner and escape Manwhore shouts to her in a commanding tone, "Talk to him!" I was disoriented to the extent that I overshot her by several feet and had to hurry back.
As I got there I asked her for probably the fourth time--since my brain was apparently not engaged--"Where's the party?" And she was saying she didn't know, as well as "Mamma mia, mamma mia, mamma mia." I forget exactly how I lost it after that. But she quickly went on her way.
I know I made a mistake. But she was so damn hot I didn't care. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was feeling euphoric. I think Manwhore was trying to coach me, but I was deaf.
I asked him how he did it and he said, " I matched her energy with my rising pitch but added a command to my voice as well." Think on that a while.
The "Cocaine Queens" aka The Package Inspectors
Next we walk through the Aria towards Haze nightclub. (I've written about the events that transpire here previously, but they are worth repeating.) Girls are coming up the escalator from a nightclub that is one floor below the lobby. As Manwhore and I walk in that direction, I spy with my little eye a redhead with big boobies in a red dress with a big-boobied blond in a white dress. I said, "We gotta talk to them. That one in the red is for you."
As we got closer they disappeared for a second behind a large column in the lobby. As we walked around the column and they came into view the blond was squatting on the floor with her head tucked under the redhead's dress. I said something profound like, "Hey! What's going on here?" while Manwhore asked the redhead if she was painting the blond's face red.
They were both giggling when the blond peeked out from under the redhead's dress and then stood up. She told me that she was hiding her face because her make-up was smeared. I turned her towards me and wiped some of smeared make-up from underneath her eye with my thumb. I could feel the attraction coming through her eyes as I pulled her into me. I was moving my girl around while making chit-chat. The girls are talking to us and talking back and forth between themselves. I hear extra loud giggling and turn to see that Manwhore had pulled the redhead's boobies out of her dress and that she was wearing sparkly star stickers over her nipples. Right after that the girls called a meeting.
Manwhore and I are standing facing each other. The girls decide to check our packages to see what they've got to work with. So we're standing in the lobby of the Aria and we each have one hand from each girl on our cocks. I'm laughing right now thinking about the absurdity of this situation. We met these girls five minutes before this and now they are literally sizing us up. I turn my blond away and pull her into me. Her big boobies are pressing into her chest, my hands are exploring her stomach and ass, and we're making the most intense eye contact I've ever experienced in my life.
Redhead breaks this scene by shouting out that they want McDonald's and cocaine. Manwhore had made arrangements with the redhead that will end up with all of us back at his house. I was not aware of this at the time--I mean, I could feel that the girls were interested, but I didn't know that it was a done deal. Manwhore does not do cocaine and neither do I. He had no intention of finding them cocaine or anything like it. In his mind he knew that they really wanted to come back to his house and be fucked by us. Since I was unaware of his mindset and unaccustomed to this kind of situation, I saw the cocaine as an obstacle to us fucking these girls and I became fearful and judgmental.
I asked her, "Why do you want cocaine?" She turns her head so that our lips are touching and stares into my soul with her glacial blue eyes, searching for weakness and sizing me up as a man, and says, "Because I want to fuck all night long." I flinched. I balked. She could feel my weakness and hesitation. Things got real weird real fast, and the girls disappeared.
Pain and Progress
Immediately after that he and I had a "Come to Jesus" talk in the middle of the lobby at Aria. I told him what happened and he was angry with me; furious that I had lost my cool and in doing so lost the girls. My initial reaction of shame quickly turned to anger back at him. In my head I was thinking, "What the fuck?!? I paid this guy for a bootcamp and he's bitching me out??!? This is complete and total bullshit! It is his job to get me laid, not the other way around! I've never been in that situation before in my life and I don't touch cocaine, so what does he expect? I've never had girls come onto me like that so quickly!"
He shut that down real quick. So, I'm standing there in the lobby of the Aria seething on the inside. I alternated between wanting to run away as fast as I could, take a swing at Manwhore, or break down in tears. But then it happened, for once.
My brain decided that we weren't going to sit there and cry about it. There were other girls to approach. Yet there was the problem of this angry self-pity to deal with and it doesn't look good on you when you wear it.
I decided to suck it up and push through my negative feelings. I could see a hottie amongst a group of girls standing outside of the Aria waiting at the taxi stand.
Magically my feet started moving and once I was close to the girls somehow my mouth started moving too. Sexy brunette had a rose in between her breasts and I made sure to get a long whiff of it up close, real close.
Small talk ensued and none of the girls in her group tried to get in between us. She introduced me to her B.F.F. who seemed to like me enough. This girl wasn't showing me any outward signs of interest, nor was she showing any signs of disinterest. Manwhore stayed inside the lobby with his cloaking device activated. I talked to the girls until they realized that they weren't actually standing in the taxi line but rather were standing around me and brunette while we talked. Once they hailed a cab I got the brunette's number and walked back inside.
Manwhore was standing there with a puzzled look on his face. I wasn't mentally finished with what happened earlier, and even though I approached the brunette outside I was still mentally living in the earlier situation and couldn't fully be with her and her friends. He told me that the brunette's B.F.F. liked me and gave me the greenlight and thus I should have gone with them. Oh well.
I was still bothered by what my reaction to the girl who wanted cocaine. When he dropped me off at the hotel he could feel what was going on. He told me that he had no choice but to say what he said to me, if not I would not learn from the situation. I tried to get out of his car as quickly as possible, but right before I got out he told me that if it wasn't for our professional relationship that I would probably not speak to him again. In my mind at the time, I thought that he was telling me that if not for our professional relationship he would not speak to me again because of my behavior. I went to find a bar at which to drown my sorrows.
Thankfully, there is one bar on the strip that is like a regular bar--not cluttered with gaming machines and other garbage. The bartenders are cool and the prices are reasonable. I sat down at the bar and order a drink.
I decided that I was going to share my tale of woe with everyone who would listen: both bartenders, nearby bar patrons, the wandering cigarette sales girl, and anyone else who would listen. I was shaking as I sat there on the verge of tears. My stomach was twisted in knots and my throat hurt. So I begin to tell my overly dramatic story in an overly dramatic fashion. After several tellings, and several drinks I felt much better, and had made friends with the guys next to me.
These two are from California and involved in the music business. My story leads to a long conversation about dating and picking up chicks. As we're talking, a wavy-haired ginger with prominent cheekbones walks up to the bar across from where I'm sitting. There's a guy standing behind her trying to massage her shoulders and neck. It looks like he's with her, but she's not with him. She sits down at a cocktail table on the deck outside with that guy, another guy, and a short blond girl. I continue talking to my new friends.
The guys at that table take their shirts off. My new friends decide they're going to bed. So I walk over to talk to the ginger and company. The two guys with their shirts off were good looking and in good shape. The girls were clearly enjoying this situation, but not in the way you might think. It looked to me like they were enjoying it because they got to guys to take their shirts off, not because they were enjoying the view. When I got to their table I started making jokes and subtly tooling the guys while befriending them. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but I was basically encouraging the guys in their stupidity and the girls picked up on it.
Wavy-ginger decides that I have to take my shirt off too if I want to stick around. I told her I will if she and her friend do as well. "We're girls, I'm wearing a dress, blah blah blah." I said something along the lines of "Fair is fair young lady. In today's equalist world you can't make a double standard like that--you don't get a pass for being a girl." She objected several times, but I stuck to my guns and my shirt stayed on.
The guys choose to go home soon after I got there. So now I'm standing in between ginger and blondie who are on high stools sitting at a cocktail table on an outside deck. I proceed to tell stories, crack jokes a their expense and generally amuse myself. Ginger fights me by interrupting and trying to change the subject over and over again. It took 20 minutes of me being loud, funny, and cutting her off every time for her to finally give in. I was talking to her blond friend while poking and making fun of her. At one point she was giggling uncontrollably while trying to fight me off and yelling "I hate you so much, I hate you, I hate you so much." I thought that she was cooked, and that lead to my being lazy.
Blondie even told her a few times that we make an amazing couple. Blondie was married and a 4 while ginger was single and an 8. I figure I'm good to go since I have blondie's approval. Yeah, not so fast cowboy.
Did Not Lead Her, So I Do Not Bang Her
I went in for the kiss when blondie got up to go to the bathroom, but it flopped. I think she said, "Ewww..." I tried a few more times but she kept turning her head. To be fair it was 7am and light outside, but I clearly dropped the ball somewhere. I approached strong, was loud and dominant, teased her, won the friend over, had my hands all over her, but then....denied. I took her number to try to meet up at a pool party the next day. The next night she texted me that "All these promoters want me to come to their club tonight. #humblebrag" I liked this chick, and we really would be a good couple, but as Manwhore would tell me later, I failed to lead her properly. Oh well I guess.
I ended up eating at McDonalds until 9am. I'm pretty sure that between getting denied by ginger and making it to McDonalds that I got approached by some prostitutes. And I'm pretty sure the one would have given it to me for free but her associate was all about business. I got tons of shitty Micky D's breakfast food and sat down at a round table outside. This chubby guy in uptight business casual asks if he can sit with me. I said, "Whatever you wanna do bud." He sits down, has an accent, and I find out he's German. Two of his associates join us at the table over the course of the next 20 mins.
I'm in rare form on a roll. The tables around us are all watching me and listening to our conversation. I caught people eavesdropping while going up and down the escalators. I created the warm end of the pool that day at Mickey D's in the blazing Nevada sun.
Day Three and The End of The Dryspell
The following afternoon I woke up feeling like shit. My brain was buzzing in pain, my throat hurt, and I felt like I had been beaten up. Without warning, all of the pent up emotions from the night before burst out of me in sobs and tears. At first I felt like such a bitch for crying, but I slowly began to realize that the breakdown was the physical manifestation of emotional baggage leaving my body. I immediately felt refreshed and with a new awareness.
I got up, took a shower, and got a sandwich. Manwhore told me that we were going to do some daygame. He took me to one of the mall-like places and we walked around and explained the drills to me. I felt like I was past the drills but he made me do them anyway. The one drill was ridiculous, but that was the point. I had some fun interactions and definitely should have gotten number from a hot swedish blond, but she only had her Dubai number, no local number.
He then drove us over to Hot 'n Juicy to get some food. This place serves New Orleans style seafood and fried goodies. They sell the seafood by the pound and they drop it off on your table. The tables are all covered in plastic and they give you bibs so that you can pig out. I wasn't particularly hungry, so I was entertaining myself by making our waitresses' head explode. Not really, but she was cute and after a good charming from me she had trouble speaking and forgot what she was supposed to be doing. The table next to us began talking to us too, I guess they wanted in on the fun.
He drove me back to my place so I could take a nap and he could go home to get some work done. We made a plan to go out at midnight. The nap was more of a fitful tossing and turning than a restful sleep, but at least I laid down. Eventually I got up to go eat a sandwich, and then came back to shower and shave. Manwhore called and I told him that I wanted to go back to one of the big bad clubs because I felt its what I needed. I had come this far, and even though I was super tired, I felt like going to a loud club would push me to where I needed to be.
By the time Manwhore came to pick me up, I was ready to go. I don't mean in the sense that I was freshly shorn with a clean shirt and a killer peacocking hairdo, but in the sense that I felt secure in my skillset and simply needed to work on one or two pieces to complete it. So I headed out with confidence and high hopes.
Manwhore gives me a talk on the way over. He tells me what is going on inside my brain, what positive things are developing, and what negative ones are still holding me back. He lets me know what I need to watch out for and also what good things will happen as the changes take place.
I feel that its necessary to put this here, in context, rather than talk about it separately later on. Manwhore is a motherfucking jedi. He may not have high level of Midi-chlorians in his blood, but when it comes to psychology and social intelligence his knowledge and intuitive awareness is second to none. I've never met anyone who can seemingly read minds like he can--in both individuals and the "mind" of a group. I've studied social psychology, body language, and group dynamics, but I don't see half of what he sees. He's like Peyton Manning reading a high school defense.
And its not just what he sees or hears--the passive side--that makes him a master at this, its also the way he can project emotion using his voice, eyes, and body language. For example, in his car on the way home from the second night, after my meltdown with the cocaine queen, I started bitching about how I haven't learned anything and how much everything sucks. He shut me down completely by projecting emotion onto me using the tone and volume of his voice. It felt like he dug down deep into an emotional core and summoned the power to silence me. In doing so he wasn't threatening or violent or merely loud, its that his voice reflected back at me the pain and anguish that I was trying to put on him. Maybe that's why I was on the verge of tears when I went to drink and tell people my tale of woe.
That talk on the way over there connects the loose ends. I now know that my body of game knowledge is complete. I'm not sure that the fact of completion had sunk in at the time. All of the years of searching for answers and more tricks and tips was finally coming to an end. Before I felt like every time I went out talking to girls that I was bringing a knife to a gun fight. Now it was clear that, first, I'm all the weapon I'll ever need, and, second, that there was never a battle to begin with. I began to feel the intrinsic power of a high-value man.
We arrive at the Cosmopolitan and park. As we open the doors that separate the parking garage from the elevators, we see a gorgeous baby doll sitting on a bench. I said something to Manwhore like, "We're going to talk to her, aren't we." He said something to her and sat down next to her on the bench on her right side. I sat down on her left. She was wearing a green and white-striped tight floor-length dress. I called her the green hornet and started making pirate jokes for some reason. We find out that the little love muffin is from Hawaii and is an actual Hawaiian.
Most girls lose a few percentage points of attractiveness as time passes and we're talking. This one became better and better looking to me as my eyes were searching for flaws and finding none. Wavy, luminous brown hair that cascaded over her boobies. Deep brown eyes, creamy smooth skin. The point of the story is that I would love her long time. She was a solid 9 at worst, the best looking girl I saw in my time in Las Vegas.
I am writing about her in some detail now because of what clicked in my brain during the conversation. This heavenly blessed beauty made a face that I'll never forget in response to something I said. Her mouth parted slightly as she pushed her lips out while simultaneously her eyes rolled slightly back in her head while her eyelids dipped down. It was a flash of the O-face, the soft fire, and I'm the motherfucker that caused that in her! My own personal Emm-Arr-Ess could not hide her attraction from me. I felt like the man! Too bad her boyfriend--her highschool sweetheart--was picking her up in 2 mins. Manwhore looked at me after she left and said, "She enjoyed that."
We talked to a few groups of girls in the Cosmo while we made our way towards Marquee. In two or three of the groups, the girls that we were talking to liked us but their friend or friends who were not getting attention got pissy. I opened a turbo stunner. I was so proud of myself for stepping to her but I bailed after she told me that she was only going dancing sober and the leaving immediately afterwards. In my head I was thinking "Fuck this, lets find some girls who actually want to have fun tonight" while Manwhore told me I should not have ejected and should have stayed with her.
We made it upstairs to the line at Marquee. It didn't look busy so Manwhore started texting around to see what was going on. While he was texting, I started talking to a group of brownish girls in orange dresses with foreign accents. I can't remember if it was a birthday or bachelorette party. One of them pulled out a riding crop and I bent over like a naughty boy so that she could give me my punishment. She would not give me the damn riding crop. As they were going through the rope Manwhore told me that we needed to talk about a mistake that I made, but that we couldn't do it in front of everyone. We walked off to the side about 100 feet from Marquee.
Apparently, in trying to engage the group, my body language was wishy washy. So it wasn't anything I said but the fact that the body language was weak that made me lose the orange girls.
Two Who Want to Tango
As he's finishing up his lesson and we're figuring out what we want to do next I spy with my little eye two girls walking towards us. There's a brunette in a short orange outfit who has a sensual sway in her walk and a blond in a black dress who looks happy and confident. We engage them immediately, Manwhore goes to the brunette and I to the blond. Within seconds I've pulled my girl in close to me. She's beautiful and her face is beaming. I move her away from her friend, pull her in tighter, let her feel that she's with me.
The girls, of course, want to go dancing. I don't particularly, and for some reason we let them go. As they are going down the escalator my girl is looking intently at me. Manwhore says that we gotta go after them, so we do. I re-engaged my girl, kissed her. We walked around talking. I lead her around the casino. Manwhore took his girl into the casino quicky mart to get a cheap beer, but I took mine for a proper cocktail. My girl wants to rejoin her friend, so I lead her over to them. She says, "I bet you're fantasizing about all of the things you're going to do to me later." I replied, "You're projecting."
The girls go into the bathroom to pee. Manwhore tells me that I'm in control and I am responsible for the four of us, and especially him getting laid. I'm nervous and feel out of my element. I've forgotten where the exit to the parking lot is, and I feel lost in this casino (as is the point). My girl keeps talking about wanting to dance, have drinks, and maybe gamble. I'm trying to talk as little as possible and just lead her to the parking garage.
We end up sitting down at a slot machine. I sit down and my girl sits on my lap. I'm fine with spending some time with this girl and just enjoying each other. Manwhore wants to bang his girl and he makes it clear that we need to get going. He agrees that we will take them dancing at a latin club. Eventually we make it out to his car. The girls of course, and by that I mean my girl mostly, don't want to get in. She flat out refuses and tries to take her girl with her. She wants us to go back inside and go dancing or gamble.
Manwhore then takes the lead. He completely dominates the girls in a playful, yet clear manner. He goes with their ebs and flows. He made searing eye contact while issuing verbal commands to the girls, and then softly dealt with their reactions. He took control of my girl by demonstrating how well he could handle his. At this point his girl was acting "erratically"--she was in a highly aroused state--and my girl wasn't comfortable seeing this side of her BFF. She knew that her friend was in imminent danger of getting fucked well. And so she resisted. So he barked at her and then pulled her back in, over and over again, until she felt secure and joined me on the backseat.
We put the top down on the convertible and my girl is on my lap. By this time in the night I'm happy to sit here with my girl on my lap cherishing each other. This is a girl who, if I wasn't quickly turning into an icy pimp, I would girlfriend up and develop feelings for.
Oops the Club is Closed, But Here's Something Better
Manwhore has other ideas as we pull into the parking lot of the latin club and its closed. He turns his music up and we get out and start dancing; he with his girl and me with mine. I wish I had been standing closer to them so I could have heard and seen exactly what went down, but after a few minutes Manwhore's girl was on her knees in front of him sucking his cock with her wrists bound by his belt. He was standing in such a way that my girl could see, and that's how he wanted it. Meanwhile, I'm making out with and twirling mine like I'm in 7th grade. Though trying to play it cool, she's having trouble keeping her mouth shut and can't take her eyes off of Manwhore's manhood in her married friend's mouth. Minutes before, his girl was acting out like a spoiled child, her behavior a combo of a temper tantrum and the excitement of running downstairs on Christmas morning. Mine was in awe and trying to hide her own arousal at the scene.
Once the show was over we got back in the car and Manwhore drove us all to his house (which happened to be right around the corner). He stopped at the convenience store on the way to buy some cheap "wine' for the girls and some condoms for us. Back at his house he pulls of this sneaky maneuver whereby his girl ends up in his room without my girl seeing or knowing. I knew what was happening when I saw the setup, so I lead my girl away so it could go down. So, Manwhore is in his bedroom blasting this chick and I'm out in the kitchen and on the couch tryna get some highschool style. My girl is like one step forward and two steps back. She just wants to cuddle and talk and get to know me, but not fuck me. Manwhore tries a few times--including pulling her into the guest bedroom and throwing her on the mattress and then telling me to go in after her--to help me out, but to no avail.
He even did his best to project sexuality on to her in an a fucking funny way. At the time I wasn't particularly amused, but looking back it was hilarious. She knocked on his locked bedroom door to "check on" her friend. He opened the door buck-naked with his dong daring her to interfere. Even his one-eyed monster staring her in the face didn't lower her barriers enough for her to fuck me at the house.
The night reached a point where I believed my girl when she basically said that if we go back to her hotel room she'll fuck me. After what felt like forever, Manwhore was finally finished with his girl and would drive us back into Las Vegas. On the drive back my girl is sitting on my lap, but I'm mostly looking straight ahead and ignoring her. She kept taking my hand and I wasn't throwing it away but rather letting our hands slide apart. I was frustrated and irritated. Both with myself for whatever mistakes I was making, and for Manwhore taking so long. I know when things go down like this its hard to fit in a huddle, but I really felt like I could have used one.
We park and go straight up to their hotel room. I took a swig of prosecco straight from the bottle, and afterwards my girl pours us two glasses. We go into the bathroom and she insists on brushing her teeth. I am so tired by now. Mentally, physically, and, most importantly, emotionally exhausted. I haven't had sex in over two years. I acted like a man in full abundance for the better part of the last three hours. I acted like it was no big deal, ignored her beauty, and seemed willing to walk away. It took everything I had not to quit. I'm almost certain that without Manwhore's steady pressure, I would have quit or at least tried to find some other girls.
Not now though. Now I felt like I had crossed the finish line and was merely waiting for my medal. After I walked out of the toilet she asked me if I would rather the shower or the jacuzzi. I told her to start the jacuzzi. I strip down in preparation for getting in the water. I pulled her into me as she was bending over the tub and turned her around. Her panties, which she had fought to keep up all night seemed to magically fall down. I told her to put her arms up and yanked her dress off over her head. I pulled her into me again. This time her eyes showed pure desire and submission. I guess she was ready. I kissed her passionately. She grabbed my cock and stuffed it inside of her.
Afterwards we sat in the tub playing with and enjoying each other. She was pleading with me to cancel my flight and stay with her for the week. She tried to plan a trip for me to see her in her home town. I couldn't sleep so I got up, found my undies, kissed her on the head, and left without getting her number. Manwhore was snoring in the bed next to hers, the big spoon to his girl's little.
Three hours later I was on the plane and flying home.
Manwhore and I connected a few days later for a debriefing. He told me what my biggest problem was and how to fix it. He went over a few other sticking points with me too. I no longer feel like I need to study game. My body of knowledge is complete, and I simply need to fill it in and refine it with experience.
His bootcamp was truly life changing. Feel free to ask me any questions on the forum or in PM.
TL;DR Fuck you, read it.