Better Off Single

Bettor Off Single:
Why Commitment Is A Bad Gamble For Men

By RAY CHARLES GORDON

2010, Snodgrass Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved
http://www.toosmarttofail.com

Bettor Off Single:
Why Commitment Is A Bad Gamble For Men

Volume I:
The VCABM


2010, Snodgrass Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved
http://www.toosmarttofail.com
Bettor Off Single. 2010, Snodgrass Publishing Group. Check out these other great books and coaching by Ray:

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/coaching.html (Coaching) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B005FFTN0S (Outfoxing The Foxes)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006J SG0Q0 (29 Reasons) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006FKBB8Y (Women Sex & Money)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004T33NZS (Chess Book) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004U72PJ8 (Book On Office Game)

i
Foreword

First, a disclaimer:

Details regarding the events, places, and people (except celebrities) depicted in this
text have been altered to preserve target-privacy. Other field-reports have been
consolidated, amalgamated, or otherwise obfuscated. In some cases, the passage of
time has allowed me to reveal lays that would have compromised the targets, or others,
at the time. The doubting reader is invited to treat this work as complete fiction.

Here's a quote for those who wish to quote me:

"Middle-age is the exact point in life where reflecting on ones past becomes
more exciting than living ones present." -- Me.

Welcome to The Jungle...



ii
Table Of Contents

VOLUME I: THE VCABM

Foreword ..................................................................................................................................................... i
Table of Contents ....................................................................................................................................... ii
Introduction: The PUA Dilemma ......................................................................................................... ix
Field Report Number One: The Battle Of Kate .......................................................................................... 1

Lesson One: In Search Of The Magic Hottie ............................................................................................ 3
Lesson Two: The Virginal Crash And Burn Mission .............................................................................. 5
Lesson Three: The Valuable Coaching And Bootcamp Method ............................................................ 11
Lesson Four: The Pharmacology Of Women .......................................................................................... 14
Lesson Five: Compatibility Explained .................................................................................................... 24
Field Report Ground Zero: I Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It!) ................................................................... 31
Field Report Zero Point One: The First Cut Is Not The Deepest .............................................................. 34
Field Report Zero Point Two: My First Returning Fox ........................................................................... 36

Lesson Six: Kate-Positive Lifestyle Isolation.......................................................................................... 38
Field Report Zero Point Three: My First Bitch Shield .............................................................................. 45
Field Report Zero Point Four: Stood Up By A Blind Date ........................................................................ 47
Field Report Zero Point Five: Sexy Canary In The Coal Mine ................................................................ 49
Field Report Zero Point Six: The Microscope ........................................................................................ 51
Field Report Zero Point Seven: Phantom Girlfriend II ............................................................................ 52
Field Report Zero Point Eight: Carrot Juice, Celebrity, And Cluelessness ............................................... 53
Field Report Zero Point Nine: The Soulmate Next Door .......................................................................... 56
Field Report Zero Point Ten: My First Successful Gimmick .................................................................... 57
Field Report Zero Point Eleven: My First MLTR ..................................................................................... 59
Field Report Zero Point Twelve: Expanding My Horizons ...................................................................... 61
Field Report Zero Point Thirteen: Neither Rain, Nor Sleet, Nor Snow ................................................. 63
Field Report Zero Point Fourteen: No Sex And The City .......................................................................... 64
Field Report Zero Point Fifteen: It Doesnt Get Any Better Than This .................................................... 65
Field Report Zero Point Sixteen: Twenty-One Hired-Gun Salute ............................................................ 67

Lesson Seven: The Three Levels Of Seduction ....................................................................................... 69
Field Report Zero Point Seventeen: Be The Eye Candy!? ........................................................................ 74
Field Report Zero Point Eighteen: A Perfect Date, If Only I Had One ..................................................... 76
Field Report Zero Point Nineteen: Last Date With NHBMall .................................................................. 77
Field Report Zero Point Twenty: Stealing A Kiss From An SHB ............................................................. 78
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-One: Meeting My MLTRs Primary: .................................................... 80
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Two: Its Not The Thought That Counts .............................................. 82
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Three: Date With A Christmas Angel .................................................... 83
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Four: Playing With The Popular Kids: ................................................. 84


iii
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Five: Why, No, I Dont Have A Girlfriend ............................................ 86

Lesson Eight: TURD-Money And Lifestyle Game .................................................................................. 87
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Six: Paradise To The Fool ................................................................... 96
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Seven: Taxicab Confessions ................................................................. 99
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Eight: Shes My Best FriendsMOTHER!? .................................... 101
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Nine: Blind AMOGing ........................................................................ 103
Field Report Zero Point Thirty: Coming Of Age And My First EL-II: ................................................. 104
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-One The Fine Art Of Supplication ........................................................ 106
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Two: Never Supplicate.Unless It Works! .......................................... 107
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Three: Girls Girls Girls!!! ..................................................................... 108

Lesson Nine: Treat Your Soulmate Like A Soulmate ........................................................................... 110
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Four: SHB In Da House ........................................................................ 116
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Five:: Wild Night At The Underage Bar ............................................... 117
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Six: Hollywoods Calling For The Movie Rights .................................. 119
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Seven: Yes, You Have A Car, And Yes, It Has A Horn ......................... 125
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Eight: Treat Your Soulmate Like A Golddigging Whore ....................... 128
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Nine: Love Conquers Nothing .............................................................. 129
Field Report Zero Point Forty: Eat Your Hart Out, Spitzer .................................................................... 130
Field Report Zero Point Forty-One: Eighth Avenue Freezeout .............................................................. 132

Lesson Ten: The Joy Of Wrongfooting ................................................................................................. 134
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Two: Creeps Need Love Too................................................................... 138
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Three: Cruel Intentions .......................................................................... 140
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Four: I Get Up In The Evening ............................................................. 142
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Five: Disorientation ................................................................................ 144
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Six: Freezes Fishbowl Game ................................................................ 146
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Seven: Intrigue At First Sight ............................................................... 148

Lesson Eleven: Surviving And Exploiting Her Probe ........................................................................... 149
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Eight: L-II Isolation ............................................................................... 153
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Nine: Deliciously DomestKated .............................................................. 156
Field Report Zero Point Fifty: Death By Cluelessness............................................................................ 157

Lesson Twelve: Mindbuilding................................................................................................................ 158
Field Report Zero Point Fifty-One: Thank God Im Only Watching The Game .................................... 162
Field Report One Point Zero: The Battle Of Kate Revisited .................................................................. 164
Field Report One Point One: Asking Out My Soulmate ......................................................................... 166
Field Report One Point Two: Nature Terminates My VCABM .............................................................. 167
Field Report One Point Three: Kate The Drama Queen ......................................................................... 168
Field Report One Point Four: Love The None Youre With .................................................................... 170



iv
Lesson Thirteen: My First Alpha Isolation ........................................................................................... 172
Field Report One Point Five: The Wedding Crasher .............................................................................. 174
Field Report One Point Six: Hotdogs Are Better Than Sex ................................................................... 176
Field Report One Point Seven: Phantom Girlfriend III ......................................................................... 178
Field Report One Point Eight: Joyeux Halloween .................................................................................. 179
Field Report One Point Nine: Too Cool For My Own Good ................................................................... 182
Field Report One Point Ten: Another Dinner With Kate........................................................................ 183
Field Report One Point Eleven: After The Fire, The Fire Still Burns .................................................... 185
Field Report One Point Twelve: My Fine Park Avenue Clothes ............................................................ 186
Field Report One Point Thirteen: Love At Second Sight ......................................................................... 188

Lesson Fourteen: Housecleaning And Horseplaying ............................................................................ 189
Field Report One Point Fourteen: The Double Ex .................................................................................. 196
Field Report One Point Fifteen: Finishing Up With SHBLunch ............................................................ 198
Field Report One Point Sixteen: Kino Me Kate ...................................................................................... 199
Field Report One Point Seventeen: Making Peace With The OTL ......................................................... 201
Field Report One Point Eighteen: The Battle Of Kate II ........................................................................ 202

Lesson Fifteen: Isolation From Other Men ........................................................................................... 206
Volume II Preview: Mo Skillz/Mo Problems ...................................................................................... 209

END OF VOULME I

VOLUME II: THE PUA PLAYBOOK

Lesson Sixteen: The Feral Advantage ................................................................................................... 213
Field Report Two: The Threat Is Stronger Than The Execution ........................................................... 215
Field Report Three: Scoring Into An Empty Net .................................................................................... 217

Lesson Seventeen: My Personal Triple Crown ..................................................................................... 218
Field Report Four: Treat Your Pivot As If She Were Your Cousin ........................................................ 220
Field Report Five: Sex For The Mind .................................................................................................... 221
Field Report Six: I Dont See You Guys Rating The Kind Of Kate Im Contemplating ........................ 222
Field Report Seven: Sleeping In The Bed Of A Fourteen Year-Old Girl ............................................... 223
Field Report Eight: Positively Kate ........................................................................................................ 224
Field Report Nine: The War Of The Roses ............................................................................................ 225
Field Report Ten: Feral Employment .................................................................................................... 226

Lesson Eighteen: Moral Hazard ........................................................................................................... 228
Field Report Eleven: Being, Winning, And Fucking The Prize ............................................................. 234
Field Report Twelve: Happy Twenty-First Birthday, Kate ..................................................................... 236
Field Report Thirteen: More Foolish Supplication ............................................................................. 238
Field Report Fourteen: Found In Translation ........................................................................................ 239


v
Field Report Fifteen: I Swear, I Left Him On The Rooftop .................................................................... 240
Field Report Sixteen: My First Chess Groupie....................................................................................... 242
Field Report Seventeen: One Super-Elite, To Go, With A Side Of Cole Slaw ........................................ 244
Field Report Eighteen: Chicks Dig Chick Flicks! .................................................................................. 245
Field Report Nineteen: Kasparov Shit .................................................................................................... 246

Lesson Nineteen: Target Management .................................................................................................. 248
Lesson Twenty: The Summer Of Twenty-One ..................................................................................... 250
Field Report Twenty: Dancing On The Chesstable ................................................................................ 252
Field Report Twenty-One: How To Tell If She Wants To Have Your Baby ........................................... 254
Field Report Twenty-Two: The Phantom Pivot ..................................................................................... 255
Field Report Twenty-Three: Letting (Chess) Theory Get In The Way Of A Lay .................................... 259
Field Report Twenty-Four: Fuck Like A Grandmaster (Not!) ............................................................... 261
Field Report Twenty-Five: Thirty Years Ahead Of Her Time ................................................................ 262
Field Report Twenty-Six: Refusal To Supplicate Pays Off .................................................................... 264
Field Report Twenty-Seven: Hoes Before Bros ...................................................................................... 265
Field Report Twenty-Eight: Too Good For My Own Good .................................................................... 266
Field Report Twenty-Nine: Yet Another Mistake With SHBDancer ...................................................... 268
Field Report Thirty: Shes Just Sixteen Years Old. ............................................................................ 269
Field Report Thirty-One: Hypnotizing PG-4 .......................................................................................... 271
Field Report Thirty-Two: It Pays To Remember Birthdays .................................................................... 273
Field Report Thirty-Three: Passing Through Cougar Town .................................................................. 274
Field Report Thirty-Four: Love And Basketball ..................................................................................... 275
Field Report Thirty-Five: Help! I Have An SHBStalker! ..................................................................... 277
Field Report Thirty-Six: My First True Fuckbuddy ............................................................................... 279
Field Report Thirty-Seven: Shalom! ...................................................................................................... 281
Field Report Thirty-Eight: Stage Door Ray ............................................................................................ 283
Field Report Thirty-Nine: The Beginning Of The End Of The Chess Gimmick .................................... 285
Field Report Forty My First True L-III Conquest.................................................................................. 287

Lesson Twenty-One: Lifestyle Integration ............................................................................................ 289
Field Report Forty-One: Cockblock Prevents Lay Of PG-4 .................................................................... 293
Field Report Forty-Two: Single Mother = Empty Net ............................................................................ 295
Field Report Forty-Three: If She Could Turn Back Time ...................................................................... 297
Field Report Forty-Four: A Measure Of Respectability .......................................................................... 299

Lesson Twenty-Two: Formal L-III Training Pays Off ......................................................................... 300
Field Report Forty-Five: Chess Groupie Stalkers, On The Next Geraldo .............................................. 303
Field Report Forty-Six: Lifestyle Rift ..................................................................................................... 306

Lesson Twenty-Three: Project Manhattan II And Back ...................................................................... 309
Field Report Forty-Seven: Regaming Le Club ....................................................................................... 321
Field Report Forty-Eight: God Bless Chess Groupies ............................................................................ 324


vi
Field Report Forty-Nine: Life Of The Tournament ................................................................................ 326
Field Report Fifty: Seven Hours From Meet To Lay ............................................................................. 328
Field Report Fifty-One: Reversal Of Gender Roles ................................................................................ 330
Field Report Fifty-Two: AFC Orbiter Pulls A Challenger ................................................................. 332
Field Report Fifty-Three: Raspberry Dutch Chocolate Cake ................................................................. 334
Field Report Fifty-Four: Six For Seventeen ........................................................................................... 335

Lesson Twenty-Four: My First PUA Bootcamp ............................................................................... 337
Field Report Fifty-Five: Immaturity As Game ................................................................................... 342
Field Report Fifty-Six: Winging With A Top Gun ................................................................................. 344
Field Report Fifty-Seven: New Hope With An Old Target ..................................................................... 346
Field Report Fifty-Eight: Warning To Women: Avoid GAMBLERS! .................................................... 347
Field Report Fifty-Nine: Hot Chicks And Cold Trifectas ....................................................................... 349
Field Report Sixty: Protector Of Loved Ones ......................................................................................... 351
Field Report Sixty-One: Disqualified For Living With Mom ................................................................. 353
Field Report Sixty-Two: Father Of The Club ........................................................................................ 355
Field Report Sixty-Three: The Girlfriend Experience ............................................................................ 357

Lesson Twenty-Five: How To Get Hired In A Recession If Youre Unattractive ............................... 358
Field Report Sixty-Four: The End Of PG-4 And The Massage Studio ................................................... 363
Field Report Sixty-Five: That Giant Sucking Sound ............................................................................. 365
Field Report Sixty-Six: Mixed Signals ................................................................................................... 366
Field Report Sixty-Seven: Hypnotrolling ............................................................................................... 367
Field Report Sixty-Eight: Target-Calibration Pays Off Huge ................................................................ 369
Field Report Seventy: A Mitochondrial Mess ........................................................................................ 370
Field Report Seventy-One: Love And Basketball II ............................................................................... 372

Lesson Twenty-Six: The Ultimate Mindfuck ........................................................................................ 374
Field Report Seventy-Two: Sanity Calls A Timeout (Love And Basketball III) ..................................... 378
Field Report Seventy-Three: Its The Thought That Counts .................................................................. 380

Lesson Twenty-Seven: The Fall Of Twenty-Six .................................................................................... 382
Field Report Seventy-Four: Close Quarters Syndrome .......................................................................... 386
Field Report Seventy-Five: Weighting For A Girl Like You .................................................................. 387

Lesson Twenty-Eight: Diet And Exercise .............................................................................................. 389
Field Report Seventy-Six:: Fire-At-Will Game ...................................................................................... 395
Field Report Seventy-Seven: Mo Skillz/Mo Haterz ............................................................................. 398
Field Report Seventy-Eight: The Author Gimmick ................................................................................ 400
Field Report Seventy-Nine: Vaporized By SHBParalegal ...................................................................... 402
Field Report Eighty: My Second World-Class Bootcamp ................................................................... 404
Field Report Eighty-One : Phone Game Simplified................................................................................ 406
Field Report Eighty-Two: Female Boss Has The HOTS For Me .......................................................... 407


vii
Field Report Eighty-Three: PonytailDudes Party Game ....................................................................... 408
Field Report Eighty-Four : How To Hypnotize A Hot Chick .................................................................. 409
Field Report Eighty-Five: Love And Basketball IV ................................................................................ 411

Lesson Twenty-Nine: First In Wins....................................................................................................... 413
Field Report Eighty-Six : All In The Family .......................................................................................... 416
Field Report Eighty-Seven: Yet Another Hypnopet ................................................................................ 417
Field Report Eighty-Eight: Motherfucking Hotties On This Motherfucking Plane ............................... 419

Lesson Thirty: The 95 Percent Rule ...................................................................................................... 423
Lesson Thirty-One: Dominance And Submission (D/S) ....................................................................... 425
Field Report Eighty-Nine: Hypnoswitching With A Professional .......................................................... 431
Field Report Ninety: Sealed ................................................................................................................... 433
Field Report Ninety-One: Building A Submissive Harem ...................................................................... 435
Field Report Ninety-Two: My First Official Students First Official Pivot ............................................ 436
Field Report Ninety-Three: Under My Thumb ....................................................................................... 438
Field Report Ninety-Four: Treat Your Soulmate Like A Pivot ............................................................... 441

Lesson Thirty-Two: Financial Housecleaning ...................................................................................... 443
Field Report Ninety-Five: Be Flexible ................................................................................................... 450
Field Report Ninety-Six: The Battle Of Kate II ...................................................................................... 452

Lesson Thirty-Three: Gammas And Googlers ...................................................................................... 457
Lesson Thirty-Four: Stripclub Game, Circa 1999 ................................................................................ 468
Field Report Ninety-Seven: Cashing Out ............................................................................................... 474
Field Report Ninety-Eight: Yet Another Sexy Science Chick ................................................................. 476
Field Report Ninety-Nine: The 1999 Kentucky Derby ............................................................................ 477
Field Report One Hundred: Climbing The Great Wall ........................................................................... 479
Field Report One Hundred One: The Middle Of The End ...................................................................... 481
Field Report One Hundred Two: If It LOOKS Like A Girlfriend ........................................................... 482
Field Report One Hundred Three: Tent City ........................................................................................... 483

Lesson Thirty-Four Point One: Midnight Train To Georgia ............................................................... 485
Field Report One Hundred Four: My First Official Pluck ...................................................................... 497
Field Report One Hundred Five: Praise The Lord .................................................................................. 499
Field Report One Hundred Six: Field Collision ...................................................................................... 501
Field Report One Hundred Seven: Yet Another Golddigger ................................................................... 502

Lesson Thirty-Five: The Commercialization Of The Community ................................................... 503
Lesson Thirty-Six: Hate-Marketing And The Seduction Mafia/Cartel ............................................... 508
Field Report One Hundred Eight: The Consolidated Stripper Lay Report .............................................. 512
Field Report One Hundred Eight Point One: Bus Stop King ................................................................... 515



viii
Lesson Thirty-Seven: A Hottie In Every Bed ....................................................................................... 520
Field Report One Hundred Nine: My Final Home Run ...................................................................... 527

Lesson Thirty-Eight: Game NOT Over ................................................................................................. 529
Lesson Thirty-Eight Point One: A Triumph Of Technology ................................................................ 534
Lesson Thirty-Nine: All Horseplayers Die Happy ................................................................................ 537
Lesson Forty: VH-1s The Pickup Artist............................................................................................... 543
Field report One Hundred Ten: Too Fucking Seventeen ........................................................................ 554

Lesson Forty-One: A Stripper In The Road ......................................................................................... 556
Field report One-Hundred Eleven: The Battle Of Kate III ..................................................................... 560

Lesson Forty-Two: Trading Places........................................................................................................ 562
Field Report One Hundred Twelve: Wrongfooting Stripper Game......................................................... 568

Lesson Forty-Three: Trading Places II ................................................................................................. 572
Field Report One-Hundred Thirteen: Twenty-One Bus Salute .............................................................. 582

Lesson Forty-Four: My Standard Racetrack (First) Date.................................................................... 584
Mini-Bootcamp: Advice For The Reader .............................................................................................. 586
Sorry, Matt Damon: We Ran Out Of Time .......................................................................................... 590
END OF VOLUME II


ix
Introduction:
The PUA Dilemma

You have two paths up a mountain, with

1. A ninety-nine percent chance you will climb three-quarters of the way up,
only to have to safely turn back, and a one percent chance of reaching the
summit; or

2. A ninety-nine percent chance of reaching the summit, and a one percent
chance of dying.

Which would you choose?

The Monty Hall Problem

A fascinating study in ego and psychology is the Monty Hall Problem, which is as
follows:

You are on Lets Make A Deal. Monty Hall, the host, has told you that behind
one of three doors is a car, and behind the others are goats. You select Door
#1, and Monty then flips open Door #3, to reveal a goat, before asking you if
you wish to switch your selection to Door #2. What are the odds of winding up
with the car if you switch? In this case, Monty has to reveal one of the doors
with a goat, which he can do, because he knows which door has the car.

The intuitive answer, that its a 50-50 proposition, is wrong. The fallacy is that Monty
is changing the odds by revealing the goat, but he isnt. The one-third of the time Door #3 had
the car, he would have flipped open Door #2, so two-thirds of the time, Monty will have the car
behind his remaining door. In other words, revealing the goat means nothing, because he can
always hide the car. The odds that the original selection of Door #1 hides the car remains one-
third, which means the odds of Door #2 or Door #3 (which is what you get, because he leaves
whichever one doesnt have the goat) do not change either, and the choice of Door #2 is really
that of Door #2 or Door #3, with either door left closed, if it has the car, which it will, two-
thirds of the time. The easiest way to solve the problem is to focus on the fact that the original
one-third probability of the car being behind Door #1 does not change. In essence, Monty has
revealed nothing by flipping open the door with the goat, even if it appears he has. This problem
has fooled even Nobel-prized physicists, who cannot wrap their minds around the illusion
created by opening the door. If Monty doesnt know where the car is, or always has to flip open
Door #3, then switching doesnt matter, because one-third of the time the car will be revealed,
and the remaining two-thirds will indeed be split 50-50 by Doors #1-2. I point this out because,
on the same USENET groups that spawned the community, wed get something like this:



x
Post #1: Dont listen to Ray Hes a fucking IDIOT. He thinks one of two
doors has a two-thirds probability, but anyone can see its 50-50. This
is an example of his untreated mental illness.

Post #2: [From me] Your ad-hominem attack doesnt change the proof I
posted. Its sad that people cant have an open debate on USENET
without getting personal.

Post #3: Ray, take your meds. And dont ever take a job that requires math,
because you SUCK at it. I guess youll have to find another way to
rape little boys than by becoming their math teacher!

It pays to think for oneself, keep an open mind, and never take a riddle at face value.
These are wise lessons for tackling problems in math, or seduction.

Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?6721-Bettor-Off-Single-
Introduction-The-PUA-Dilemma-(Full-Text)

Field Report Number One:
The Battle Of Kate

Call it The Last Stand Of The 300 PUA Braincells:

KATE: My beauty will block out the sun.

ME: Then we shall have our battle, in the shade.

Battle, we would:

NEWSGROUPS: alt.seduction.fast
1

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: SHBFashion
2
Coming Back For Her Coat. What Should I
Do????
NOW PLAYING: Angel, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Hoyas Favored To Win NCAAs

How the FUCK did this happen?? I amSO in over my head it's not even funny. I DO
NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!!!

I can NOT figure out SHBFashion, and now she's coming back TO MY ROOM.
ALONE!!! At TWO-THIRTY IN THE FUCKING MORNING!!! As I posted earlier,
the roommate's away, so I threw a keg party specifically for the purpose of getting her to
come over, but I never expected THIS! OH MY FUCKING GOD.

Party went off PERFECTLY, better than I could have hoped. Everything went
according to plan: BeerBallDude handled the keg and loaded up the guest list with
several HBs and a few SHBs, plus a bunch of guys fromthe dorm. PhysicsDude and the
physics posse stopped by and mingled, while SHBLapdance paid a visit, but got
pissed when I blew her off for SHBFashion, who showed up with NHBCig. The keg
was thrown into the sink in the bathroom, and BeerBallDude hosted the guests in his
room, which left MY roomunoccupied. Somehow, I isolate SHBFashion there, and we
TALK for almost an hour, with the door shut. I don't try anything because I don't want
her to run out screaming or anything, and I want her to know I can be trusted. Yeah

1
alt.seduction.fast ("ASF") is the USENET "newsgroup" which gave birth to the "seduction community" from The
Game. USENET is a decentralized, message-distribution system with "newsgroups" on all kinds of topics,
including ASF for seduction. Messages are sent by one subscriber to all other subscribers, with no central
repository, via "news servers," and some sites, like Google, archive the USENET messages. USENET is unique in
that it is uncensored, and noncommercial, to the extent that it has no owner, and anyone who wishes to can advertise
through it, to varying extents. The downside is "noise" and the ease with which one can "astroturf" the groups,
using "fake grass roots" shills to "stealth market" a product or service, and avoid anti-SPAM rules, as the messages
are often disguised as noncommercial discussions.

2
On the looks scale, super-elite =9.5+, smoking hot babe (SHB) =9.0+, hot babe (HB) =8.0+, near-hot babe
(NHB) =6.0+, and ugly girl (UG) =<6.0. Most anything over a 7.0 is generally considered fuckable, and over 6.0
if she has a decent personality, or is sexy in ways beyond looks. Kate (SHBFashion) is named after the Kate
Howard character on General Hospital, due to several similarities to the character.


2
that's AFC but I really like this one. If I wanted a lay I could have just taken
SHBLapdance in there and fucked her. This one's not like that but I don't know what
she's like or what she wants.

Figured that would be it for tonight when she left, but then I noticed her COAT hanging
on the chair in which she was sitting. I'mlike "shit, she left her coat" and went to find
her because I didn't want her to come back for it when I was out at the bar or something.
I find her at the downstairs party (mine had more people while the keg lasted!) and ask
her if she wants her coat back, and she says she'll come back later for it. First I'm
annoyed, then I'mlike wow she's gonna be ALONE in here.

So what do I do when she comes back for it? Talk? Make a move? Wait for her to
make a move? I don't know what the fuck to do.

Ray

The Obligatory Postgame Network Press Conference

In the spirit of the NFL, I offer this quotable:

"Playoffs!? Don't talk about playoffs. You kiddin' me? PLAYOFFS!? I just hope
we can win a game!

Jim Mora, at an NFL postgame press conference, on his team's playoff chances.

Odds of lay as an AFC: zero.
Odds of lay as a PUA: seventy-five percent.

After Further Review.

The seduction community as we know it does not exist, without this evening, this
target, and this outcome. This field-report will be revisited after I reveal how I accumulated
the skillz that resulted in perfect isolation, with a perfect target, on what should have ended
as a perfect evening, i.e., with us fucking. Not! I did nothing wrong here. It only took me a
quarter-century to realize this, just as I now realize I was already sunk long before this. Join me
as I reveal why.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?6724-Bettor-Off-Single-Field-
Report-1-The-Battle-Of-Kate-(Full-Text)


3
Lesson One:
In Search Of The Magic Hottie
3

Few men have never heard this:

One day, the right woman will come along.

This false promise (implied, not actual) is a platitude, designed by the target-class to
keep the AFC in check, hoping for a payoff which never materializes. The titular term mocks
the lip-service, advising men to refer to it sarcastically, by saying things like Im waiting for the
Magic Hottie, or Ah, yes, the Magic Hottie, combined with of course shell show up one
day! This type of script-flipping, where you throw the bullshit back in her face, is a
demonstration of game(DOG), enhanced by the knowledge gleaned from her previous remark,
since shed never say something like that to a man she thought was a PUA.

My entire VCABM (see next two lessons) was predicated on the Magic Hottie. Since
I "knew" she was on the way, I felt no need to worry about "game," focusing instead on just
being a teenager, and developing an interesting, profitable lifestyle. The "peer pressure" to get
laid was minimal, not like today, with the community keeping score of everyones lay count.
Had the community existed in 1981, it would have ruined my soulmate-search, which, in turn,
would have left a gaping hole in my skillz, as will be made clear throughout the remainder of
this text.

Rules For "Finding" The Magic Hottie

Like all things supernatural, a unique set of mostly contrarian rules, apply for fucking
the Magic Hottie:

1. She cannot be searched for. Searching may land you in the wrong place, as
she will be where you would have been had you not lost faith in her.

2. Like the Great Pumpkin, if you do not believe in her, she will never show,
since elite SHBs who offer no-strings sex do not like having their existence
questioned.

3
The Magic Hottie is similar to the "magical negro," a Hollywood stock character, usually a wise, working-class black, with
special knowledge that assists the white male lead. Examples include Hoke in Driving Miss Daisy, Lamar in That Thing You
Do!, Cash in The Family Man, Salt in Outbreak, Lily in Star Trek: First Contcat, Occamin The Patriot, Oda Mae Brown in
Ghost, Valentine in Trading Places, Fortune in Rudy, Red in The Shawshank Redemption, Mickey Hart in For Love Of The
Game, Lamont in American History X, and Mr. T's "Wise J anitor" parody of Fortune in Not Another Teen Movie. The "magic
negro" manifests racismvia his underemployment, with the implication that he would hold power over the white man in a fair
world, and with moral superiority demonstrated by his willingness to help his oppressor regardless. Rush Limbaugh was almost
lynched when it became known he used the termto describe President Obama, but the criticismvanished when the attacking
liberals realized he was not being racist, but referencing a Hollywood stereotype that has been the subject of doctoral
dissertations, thus revealing that Rush was better informed than they.


4

3. She likes "AFCs," preferably virgins.

4. Any deviation from the VCABM could cause you to lose her. Any
conversion to "PUA" prior to her arrival will cause her not to appear, since
she detests "game" and the foolish men who run it.

5. If she is just your first kiss, rather than your first lay, she is still a Magic
Hottie, but did not lay you because she realized she was early, in which
case she will leave, with her replacement appearing when you are ready.

6. Since she will appear even if because you will have done absolutely
nothing, you are expected to devote all the free time she is giving you to
productive endeavors, so as to make yourself as desirable as possible when
she arrives, since she will have done the same for you.

7. She will materialize in the form of a Fool's Mate, mostly because the
"AFCs" she prefers are so clueless that this is the only way she can
complete her mission.

I did not make these rules, so dont bitch to me. Just as a watched pot never boils
(actually it does, just not as fast as you want it to), the Magic Hottie will show up when you least
expect it. If you do find her, odds are it will be a Fool's Mate situation, where my rule to never
let theory get in the way of a lay may apply. For the most part, however, she is an ideal, an
abstraction, a "northern star" for the VCABM, the reason you elect to remain "nice" ("AFC"),
even against mounting evidence of its foolishness. I actually had a difficult time writing this
lesson with a straight face, but if you can manage to say it with one, you can disqualify any
target dumb enough to agree with the belief, designed as the ultimate way of mocking the
soulmate cult.

Magic Hottie....right. Believe in this or enough "AFC" fairytales, and you could wind
up like those twenty-five year-old "community newbies" who have never even kissed a girl.

Lesson-One-In-Search-Of-The-Magic-Hottie


5
Lesson Two:
The Virginal Crash-And-Burn Mission

You can try the communitys crash-and-burn-mission (CABM), its closest thing to
a rite of passage, if you want to progress from average frustrated chump (AFC) to
recovering AFC (rAFC), while imputing disease on the stereotypical nice guy,
specifically the dreaded oneitis, the futile fixation upon a singular, supreme target, at the expense
of all inferior sure-things, often numbering in the dozens. Rather than abandon his designated-
soulmate, he exhausts all winning chances, like a good chessplayer, until she is forced to smash
his heart, leading him to search the internet for advice, where he finds websites like mine. In
1985, this was not an option, so I had to teach myself, with a little help from my friends, as I had
been doing for close to five years, leading up to The Battle of Kate, a conflict which would
yield the theory that would eventually defeat this mystical, tyrannical Persian invader, whose
initial forces outnumbered my Spartan braincells, by six figures, to my mere three hundred.
As my inner AFC burned to the ground with Athens, and my inner PUA (call him
Alexander) took over, future targets were confronted with an army of ten thousand PUA
cells, commanding an army of thirty thousand free Greeks. The enemy outnumbered me three
to one, but those are fine odds for any PUA.

Results-Orientation Versus Target-Orientation

Presuming, for a moment, Neil Strausss battle-cry from The Game, that every PUA
just wants to find that one special hookup (OSH), and every AFC wants to find his soulmate,
we get the key divide:

The AFC is target-oriented
The PUA is results-oriented

The approaches are diametrically opposite, yet offer roughly equal risk/reward ratios,
like the introductory mountain-climbing example. The PUA takes every known risk, actually
dies sometimes, yet considers it worth the risk, as he winds up with at least one option for getting
laid, ninety-nine percent of the time. Since the afterlife is not yet wired for the internet, a
survivors bias (like the Titanic, where all survivors had lifeboats) results. By contrast, the
AFC never dies on the mountain, but wastes an awful lot of time there, getting laid extremely
rarely. With the CABM, he is cold approaching, in the space of a few intense evenings out,
approximately two hundred random hot chicks (RHCs), and the occasional random super-hot
chicks (RSHCs; there are no random super-elites).

The VCABM is a target-oriented search for ones designated-soulmate that the AFC
aims to marry, while the CABM is a results-oriented search for sex, eventually leading to one of
the conquests becoming the one special hookup. The latter demands success in getting laid,
while the former demands the ability to identify, and then pursue, his definition of perfection, the
one he would never dream of dumping or straying from. Put another way:


6

With the VCABM, I can declare any female my soulmate. With the CABM,
I cannot.

During my actual VCABM, I declared Kate
my soulmate, less than a year after having similarly declared what turned out to be my one true
lust (the OTL), not love. Kate was a serious upgrade over the OTL, who once had me
questioning whether or not any female on earth could Unreal My Heart. After Kate, my
VCABM terminated, and I became a target-oriented PUA, characterized by a lack of oneitis
(other than the unattainable Kate), and no desire to settle for a DupliKate, essentially an inferior
soulmate who wanted me to love her the way I loved Kate, even if I did not, and could not.

Give Women A Chance

This sequence infuriates most successful PUAs:

1. Boy meets Kate.

2. Boy falls for, and wants to marry, Kate.

3. Boy uses mad PUA skillz to isolate Kate in his dorm room at 2:30 a.m. on
a Saturday night, on her initiative, with his roommate gone for the weekend.
Boy still doesnt get laid.

4. Boy eventually makes the soulmate say no, and winds up so heartbroken
he never falls in love again, although he comes very close several times.

5. Boy runs risk-free, results-oriented game. Boy gets laid by endless
succession of interchangeable targets.

6. As he moves on from each conquest, Boy, now a man, is told he should
give women a chance, thus reopening his heart to the potential of an LTR
or a marriage.

7. PUA notes he gave six women that chance, all said no, so he figured he
should just worry about getting laid.

8. PUA calls target psychotic. Retreats to isolation until the next live super-
elite, who turns out to be psychotic target, offers no-risk, no-strings sex.
PUA then posts lay report, and becomes seduction guru.

I called this the challenge fox in Outfoxing The Foxes (Snodgrass, 1998). The
drawback is that once the challenge is resolved, so is the Fox, who has moved on to the next


7
challenge. The VCABM is the chance that women claim to so dearly want. Make sure you
only give them one, two tops.

Structure And Purpose Of The VCABM

The official beginning of the VCABM is your first kiss, preferably initiated by a
super-elite, to your surprise. From then on, it is game on, as you gain practice and experience.
Older readers can either reset, by beginning the VCABM later, or hop on at any point through
the end of this text. Individual circumstances will determine the best course of action; a one-
size-fits-all approach for such a diverse population is not possible. My VCABM would not be
run the same way today, as it was medium-risk. I recommend the risk-free VCABM, but my
guess is most readers will stray towards taking chances, as the young, and inexperienced, are
prone to do. For each field report during the VCABM, and beyond, multiple perspectives are
provided:

1. A brief introduction, and the field report, or lay report (all are listed in the
TOC as field reports, so as not to give away the outcome).

2. My views at the time, in the form of the obligatory postgame network
press conference.

3. What I would have done differently, with todays knowledge, in the after
further review section.

For the PUA, the soulmate-search component of the VCABM has one, and only
one, purpose:

To get rejected by your soulmate!

Its not called the happily-ever-after mission for a reason!

Risk-free does not mean rejection-free. By risk, I am referring to extreme negative
outcomes. Some pursuit is fine, as long as the odds of disaster (violence, bankruptcy, oneitis,
etc.) are minimized or eliminated, effectively giving you a free shot, like the one I had at The
Battle of Kate. Had Kate rejected, or even rebuffed, a physical advance, the fallout would have
been minimal, since her presence in my room would have been the cause of the escalation. The
purpose of the rejection is leverage:

Once Kate rejected me, no target could ever claim that I did not give women, or
true love, a chance.

When a DupliKate attempts to make her case, she might say I have unresolved
issues over Kate, when in fact all I have is the refusal to settle, and an aversion to giving


8
women a second chance, or, in this case, a third, fifth, or sixth, depending on how one defines
love. Forever after Kate sicced me on the remainder of the target-class, I had a built-in excuse
for avoiding commitment, which led to:

Reluctant-PUA Game

Neil Strauss attempted to run this game on Big Media, during the talkshow tour for
his book. I knew he would do this, because reluctant-PUA is the only way to sell the
community to a mixed audience, without angering the overwhelmingly female and AFC
audience. Strauss had a Hollywood ending to his transformation from AFC to PUA,
when he found his one special hookup, Lisa Leveridge, Courtney Loves drummer. He had met
her through Love, who was staying with Strauss, in a compound previously rented or owned by
the Rat Pack itself. That Lisa was thirty-six, to Kates eighteen, an RHC, to Kates super-elite
looks, and wound up having dinner with Robbie Williams, a man who knows a thing or two
about getting laid like a rockstar, the following Valentines Day, likely wouldnt matter to
Strauss, but I can say that at least nine out of ten men would have chosen the barely-legal Kate,
who had spent the previous semester rejecting our campuss finest. A big factor with Kate was
simple timing; as a January arrival, I was one of the few men she had not yet obliterated.

Once I fell in love with Kate, which didnt happen until after she had rejected me, I
became a genuinely reluctant PUA. To me, Lisa was but a DupliKate, a one special hookup
at most. I also did not offer guest spots on national television to Kate, nor was she ever involved
in any bootcamps given by me, on how to learn to isolate her, among other skillz. I was just
so deeply in love with Kate that my basic nature was changed, by force, from target-oriented
AFC, first to target-oriented PUA, which had me almost becoming Kate, doing unto other
super-elites, as they had done unto me, and, finally, a results-oriented PUA, chasing newer
versions of Kate, the OTL, and two other soulmate-targets who shall come to be known as the
Four Aces. As a results-oriented PUA, I avoided the problems of rejection by those I deemed
my true love. Instead of marrying my true soulmate, I had to reluctantly, of course settle
for no-strings sex with beautiful women. This could have led to a brief, intense exchange at The
Battle of Kate:

ME: I love you and want to marry you.

KATE: No.

ME: Okay. Then I will never marry another, and just try to get laid by the
hottest chicks I can find. I wont even take a girlfriend, except maybe
one for a few months, just to see what its like, before I dump her. I
will do this reluctantly, because Id rather be happily married to you.

KATE: Suit yourself.



9
Kate was no challenge fox. Right? Right!? I wouldnt expect my true soulmate to
be so easily manipulated, but in my case it was no manipulation. With most challenge foxes,
including the ones the community PUAs seduce in this fashion, and with all targets in my life
not Kate, it became a bread-and-butter tactic. Therein lay the difference between a true
soulmate, and a one special hookup. Strauss elevated Lisa from hookup to the one who got
him to throw away all the numbers of those fame-hungry targets, who, oddly, never claimed
their fifteen minutes by revealing how they were Gamed. By contrast, I found Kate, after
patiently waiting for someone just like her to go live, realizing, as I got to know her, and testing
her as deeply as she was testing me, that she was exactly what I thought she was, and then some.
That I did so without physical escalation, may have attracted her, since few other men were
restrained by anything less than rejection by her.

Ferality: Choosing Only One Soulmate

I do not believe in DupliKate. To have continued the soulmate-search after Kate
would have surrendered control of my selection process to the target-class, a recipe for disaster,
because I would wind up imprisoned in an LTR or marriage with a target I did not love, when I
could get equal or better results by remaining feral, completely immune to all attempts at taming,
and taunting every DupliKate with the following:

If true love mattered, I would be with Kate.

Love Conquers Nothing, but looks, height, status, money, intelligence, creativity, and
game, do. Sexual Market Value (SMV) counts. To say I did not truly love Kate because she
rejected me is to trample upon my right to love whomever I choose, particularly if I accept
rejection and move on, however reluctantly. Beyond the challenge-fox implications of ferality,
the feral PUA enjoys a much larger advantage: experience. He does not use commitment as an
excuse not to hunt. He is always hunting, for more knowledge, more conquests, and better
targets. I was doing this during the VCABM, but with the idea of terminating it once I found my
Kate, which I did. She was not found by accident, but by a multiyear selection process, during
which I grew increasingly picky, to an extreme matched only by Kate herself. By The Battle of
Kate, I had ruled out literally every other woman as soulmate-material. Kate was not the one,
but THE one. That we wound up not fucking changes that not one iota. The bottom line is
simple:

I couldnt have loved Kate any less, nor a DupliKate any more.

That Kate wanted me not to love her, and the DupliKates wanted me to love them the
way I loved Kate, suggests more of a game than meets the eye, even with soulmates, rather
than a target aiming to build a solid family with a decent man. If this were not the case, they
would not have turned the most important part of my life into a crapshoot. That they did makes
a strong case for the titular argument. As relationships are primarily sought by the target-class,
the PUA loses nothing by remaining feral, since his primary goal is sex. Over time, he


10
acquires an increasing volume of increasingly hot targets, until he finds himself gaming
literally the sexiest women on the planet.

The next lesson will explain why the VCABM is really so potent.

Lesson-Two-The-Virginal-Crash-And-Burn-Mission-(VCABM)-(Full-Text)


11
Lesson Three:
The Valuable Coaching And Bootcamp Method

Most modern seduction gurus did not develop the theory they teach, instead learning
it, directly or indirectly, from the true pioneers of this movement, the Class of 1998. Some were
reality-show contestants billed as lovable losers but a few short years ago, and now command
four-figure bootcamp fees, per student, thanks to their eight-week transformation on a reality
show. To evolve from utter cluelessness to The Battle of Kate not only took a hell of a lot
longer than eight weeks and some wiseguy tactics. Unlike the typical, high-risk RHC one
might fish out of the nightlife (you will not meet your soulmate in a bar or club if you run the
VCABM), a woman like Kate is not so easily conquered. To use a baseball analogy, one could
multiple the looks rating by ten, to determine the targets pitching speed, which meant I was
batting against Kates 96 mph heaters, instead of some NHBs 72 mph gopher-balls. Kates
pitches were high-speed curveballs. A ditzy RHC is a batting-practice pitch, compared to
Kate.

Its degree of difficulty made the VCABM such a valuable bootcamp. Kate, the OTL,
and all who preceded them served as exceptionally hot, and difficult, bootcamp instructors, or
target-simulators. In Volume I, the reader will see how, through their deployment of tactics
(which only occurs when they go live), they imparted world-class seduction knowledge. Each
flaw in my game exposed during the VCABM was systematically eliminated. resulting in
many future lays, often from identical situations, as in the replay seduction sequences in
Groundhog Day. Chessplayers use post-mortems to book up for future opponents, so mistakes
are rarely repeated. The risk-free VCABM eliminates the rough edges of the learning curve, but
will create a more advanced body of knowledge than even that which appears here, because it is
theoretically sounder.

I Created The Fucking Pivot

Gurus who teach the pivot got the theory from me. Their subsequent deployment of
the tactic is firsthand, but not the original idea of deploying it, with the latter requiring a great
deal more initiative, for a much greater payoff. From 1986-1998, Boards (co-creator of the
pivot) and I were the only two men who knew the full theory, and he had cashed out in 1988,
when he married an NHB (after seducing many SHBs in his prime, despite subpar looks and
body-type). The difference is critical, for one simple reason:

I had the option of Red-Queening the pivot. No one else did. Only the
originator of a theory can control or restrict its mainstreaming.

This is what distinguishes the Class of 1998: its theory was all its own, after a brief
exchange of ideas within the group, where, in the finest tradition of USENET, electronic peer
review sharpened and focused the new, combined theory that would ultimately hit the
mainstream. Mysterys neg theory was under his control, until he revealed it, as was every other


12
contribution, such as Ross Jeffriess work with NLP (though Tracy Cabot had preceded him on
the female side with How To Make Any Man Fall In Love With You), or TokyoPUAs ideas on
how American men can best get laid in his titular city. Soren Kirchner contributed the phantom
girlfriend technique (inventing one for the purpose of bidding up the boyfriend with stories of
how much better you treat your PG, than your targets boyfriend treats her.) while dozens of
other men helped develop the methods.

When I Red-Queened Foxhunting, I never dreamed it would enrich others far more
than it did me, yet I still take pride in its amplified pedigree influence, due to increased
proliferation caused by those who plagiarized tactics like the pivot. My knowledge was gained
in the trenches, long before 1998, which is why Foxes dropped then, rather than after the few
years it took for the copycat gurus to emerge, by parroting the Class of 1998, which had
already graduated several gurus." Even now, the average male can still gain this direct
knowledge, just by choosing the VCABM. He can even try the CABM in addition, if hes
feeling masochistic, and compelled to risk emotional, or physical death. After further review
of my VCABM, I wonder if even that relatively low-risk approach was worth it, and the
heartbreak, and if I would just have been better off loving the OTL, and then Kate, from a
distance, without concern over who they might have been fucking, and using them as pivots, or
as part of a larger game.

In Wargames, the computer determined that the only way to win is not to play. By
this I do not mean what Strauss said about not playing games with a target, but rather not to
play at all, not to seek LTRs, or marriage, and to just take whatever risk-free sex would come my
way, thus avoiding exploitation. This encroaches on financial-market theory, specifically the
viability of an emotional investment in a target. Had I not pursued Kate at all, and just fucked
SHBLapdance, I might even have wound up fucking Kate, as a challenge fox bonus. My tactical
errors at The Battle Of Kate likely cost me at least one lay with my soulmate, perhaps more,
yet all of them could have been avoided with the risk-free approach. The question my readers
will have to answer, because my prime is long gone, is this:

Which new opportunities will the risk-free approach create?

Regardless of your risk-tolerance, the VCABM remains unchanged, so you will still
benefit, even if your results are horrible, because, as the name implies, actually having sex is not
compulsory; indeed, remaining virginal is ideal, although the VCABM may continue for a bit
after you lose your virginity, and through the post-mortem after your Kate is done torturing
you.



13
VCABM Synergy

The bootcamp and soulmate-search components of the VCABM are interconnected.
As those skillz improved, my target-quality improved right along with it, until I painted myself
into a perfect corner, by selecting the best woman who ever lived. At the Battle of Kate, the two
components merged, with both the soulmate-search and bootcamp terminating simultaneously,
leaving only the post-mortem, with the events of Volume II documenting my continuing
education, and application of my VCABM lessons. In retrospect, the entire period was far more
structured, and the outcomes far more logical, than I realized, which I suppose is to be expected
in an orderly universe. That they were so painful makes one averse to considering them proper,
yet they were, and, like a good medical procedure, led to quantum leaps.

Lemonade

The VCABM puts a PUA spin on what would otherwise be idiotic AFC conduct.
It lays the foundation for future success, even if it fails with the soulmate-target, via reluctant-
PUA game, which effectively bowls over large numbers of challenge foxes, perhaps including
even the designated-soulmate. It draws a line in the sand, by creating a deadline for finding
ones future wife; mine turned out to be 1985, after which I was condemned to reluctant
ferality. On the other hand, if Kate loved freedom, her act of rejection was not malicious. Since
DupliKate was not an option, and since a reversal with the original was unlikely, becoming a
feral, reluctant PUA was my only remaining option. Kate would ultimately give me what I
wanted, by preparing me exceptionally well for life without her, including an option, several
years later, to pair-bond with a perfect-wife type, the Fourth Ace, yet I would ultimately pass on
even that option, indicating that Kate knew me a lot better than I knew myself. Men are usually
way too hung up on getting laid to calculate relationship-outcomes the way a super-elite can.

Your VCABM will terminate with either your Kate taking your last name, or with
you as a feral PUA; be prepared for either outcome, knowing that there is no failure, only a
reaction to this outcome, which your soulmate gets to choose, once you have chosen her.
What I like most about the VCABM is its efficiency, since, no time is wasted, regardless of the
outcome: either you marry your soulmate, or have lots of no-strings sex with super-elites, using
what your OTL and Kate taught you. I stumbled onto this mostly by accident, and through a
consistent, logical approach that, due to my ferality, carried on for many years longer than it
should have. With the market so strong for what I learned, this text was inevitable.

Lesson-Three-The-Valuable-Coaching-And-Bootcamp-Method-(Full-Text)


14
Lesson Four:
The Pharmacology Of Women

If you are male and have sex-addiction, you are not alone. If you are male and you dont, you
are. The following is taken from the URL http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cocaine. In the article, I
substituted women for cocaine, and have excerpted the more humorous results:

Women (benzoylmethylecgonine) is a crystalline tropane alkaloid that is obtained from the leaves
of the coca plant.[5] The name comes from "coca" in addition to the alkaloid suffix -ine, forming
women. It is both a stimulant of the central nervous system and an appetite suppressant.
Specifically, it is a dopamine reuptake inhibitor, a norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor and a
serotonin reuptake inhibitor, which mediates functionality of such as an exogenous DAT ligand.
Because of the way it affects the mesolimbic reward pathway, women is addictive. Its
possession, cultivation, and distribution are illegal for non-medicinal and non-government
sanctioned purposes in virtually all parts of the world. Although its free commercialization is
illegal and has been severely penalized in virtually all countries, its use worldwide remains
widespread in many social, cultural, and personal settings.

By the turn of the twentieth century, the addictive properties of women had become clear, and
the problem of women abuse began to capture public attention in the United States. The dangers
of women abuse became part of a moral panic that was tied to the dominant racial and social
anxieties of the day. In 1903, the American Journal of Pharmacy stressed that most women
abusers were bohemians, gamblers, high- and low-class prostitutes, night porters, bell boys,
burglars, racketeers, pimps, and casual laborers. In 1914, Dr. Christopher Koch of
Pennsylvanias State Pharmacy Board made the racial innuendo explicit, testifying that, Most of
the attacks upon the white women of the South are the direct result of a women-crazed Negro
brain. Mass media manufactured an epidemic of women use among African Americans in the
Southern United States to play upon racial prejudices of the era, though there is little evidence
that such an epidemic actually took place. In the same year, the Harrison Narcotics Tax Act
outlawed the sale and distribution of women in the United States. This law incorrectly referred
to women as a narcotic, and the misclassification passed into popular culture.

As stated above, women is a stimulant, not a narcotic. Although technically illegal for purposes
of distribution and use, the distribution, sale and use of women was still legal for registered
companies and individuals. Because of the misclassification of women as a narcotic, the debate is
still open on whether the government actually enforced these laws strictly. Women was not
considered a controlled substance until 1970, when the United States listed it as such in the
Controlled Substances Act. Until that point, the use of women was open and rarely prosecuted in
the US due to the moral and physical debates commonly discussed.

In many countries, women is a popular recreational drug. In the United States, the
development of "crack" women introduced the substance to a generally poorer inner-city
market. Use of the powder form has stayed relatively constant, experiencing a new height of use
during the late 1990s and early 2000s in the U.S., and has become much more popular in the last
few years in the UK.

Women use is prevalent across all socioeconomic strata, including age, demographics,
economic, social, political, religious, and livelihood. The estimated U.S. women market
exceeded $70 billion in street value for the year 2005, exceeding revenues by corporations such
as Starbucks[18][19]. There is a tremendous demand for women in the U.S. market, particularly


15
among those who are making incomes affording luxury spending, such as single adults and
professionals with discretionary income. Womens status as a club drug shows its immense
popularity among the party crowd.

Women addiction has some pretty severe consequences. Even the recreational use of
women, in which I engage, can prove dangerous. I can quit whenever I wish, and have many
times, for extended periods of time, which actually allowed me to better develop my lifestyle
game, thus indirectly enabling my women addiction, and, perhaps, proving that the game is
ultimately rigged against men, for this reason.

The Quest For Pharmaceutical-Grade Women

Once you have had pharmaceutical-grade women, generally known on the street as
good shit, and here as a super-elite, youll rarely settle. These women are intoxiKating,
spellbinding, mesmerizing, and a bunch of other ings which slip my mind, because Im
dazzled dazzled, I tell ya just thinking about it, I tell ya. As a recreational user of
pharmaceutical-grade women, I have developed my game accordingly, and within budget,
taking into account:

The Street Value Of Women

The sex- and adult-entertainment industries, (thats prostitution and porn to most)
generate billions of dollars a year, from millions of women-addicted men, and tens of millions
more recreational users of women. At the lowest level, homeless men rent booths in adult
bookstores for a few dollars, while low-earning men purchase pornographic photos and videos,
or find them free on the internet. Some blow whats left of their paychecks in a few hours at a
stripclub, while others are recreational users of prostitutes. As one moves up the scale, an
NHBGirlfriend might offer an option for the average-earning male, with increasingly higher-
value men able to hold out for everything up to and including a super-elite, as I was able to do at
eighteen, it was not The Massacre At Kate. Courting Kate without cost made me immune to the
market forces of lifestyle game, in that I needed not compensate financially, or seek golddiggers.
The amount of money men are willing to pay for mere proximity underscores both the intensity
of their women addiction, and the street value of women.

Until someone produces better numbers, I use these, which are illustrative, based on a
cursory survey of the various marketplaces for such arrangements:

Rating Annual Monthly Weekly Hourly

Super-Elite (9.5+) $100,000.00 $10,000.00 $5,000.00 $2,500.00
SHB (9.0+) 50,000.00 5,000.00 2,500.00 1,500.00
HB (8.0+) 15,000.00 1,500.00 500.00 300.00
NHB (6.0+) 10,000.00 1,000.00 250.00 200.00
Pornography 250.00 25.00 10.00 <=5.00


16

Prices vary, due to market conditions. Obviously, the hourly rate is for prostitutes,
while weekly is for a fling or vacation, monthly for an LTR, and annually for a serious LTR, or
marriage (the price for marriage hits the stratosphere if youre wealthy, prenup be damned). The
prices are variables, even if the value is debatable. They also presume that the targets who cant
be bought are not for sale, i.e., that lifestyle game will not work on them at all, or they would
carry a price tag. Instead, the price-tags reflect what a completely undesirable male should
expect to pay for reliable sex with a completely mercenary target. In practice, some desirability
will be required, since the demand for SHBProstitutes exceeds the supply, at almost any price.

Taking Sex Completely Off The Table

Were it not for my Kate addiction, The Battle of Kate would never have occurred.
Had I remained in the friend zone, there would have been no need to waste $35.00 on The
Most Brilliantly Engineered Isolation Of All Time. Kate may or may not have detected my
scheming, but the gala was thrown as a regular party, which would occur with or without her
presence. Had she not attended, I would have isolated with SHBLapdance, or one of the many
live guests, one of whom hooked up with the Keeper Of The Keg. Me paying for the keg, and
letting the grunts do the work was a Manhattan thing to do, no doubt impressing my VIP
guest. With risk-free game, I would have thrown the party anyway, isolated her identically, and
given her the opportunity to make a move, but with my sex-addiction in check, which it
definitely wasnt in 1985. I would not been distracted by trying to figure out how to get laid,
and could have just been myself. The impact was subtle, but enough to kill my winning chances.

I use The Battle of Kate as an example, because I wanted sex from her more than from
any other woman Ive ever known, since I believed an LTR, and, eventually, a marriage, would
have ensued. This was not shallow, since if sex itself were all I wanted, SHBLapdance had
not only offered it, but sampled it, with her titular conduct. Had I taken sex off my table, by
eliminating it from my agenda, I could have talked to Kate about her love life (a neg if doing
so for nonstrategic reasons), my love life (other targets), and spent more time with her, without
the outcome-dependency that caused me to wind up like the 300 (spoiler: they die at the end). If
Kate wanted me, she could still have had me. This becomes possible only if I completely accept
her as a friend, without wanting more, from the moment I meet her, even if she is my one true
love. Since I loved her regardless of whether or not I was with her, I actually had no need to be
with her to love her, particularly if courting her involves such risk.

It Really WAS Her Loss

Gurus would have advised against risk-free game with Kate, by claiming that I
would have been a loser, for not having the balls to win her over. I disagree:

Why should I have had to do anything BUT love her to win Kate over?



17
Was she a fucking carnival prize? It was only my societal brainwashing and sex-
addiction that had me thinking a) I needed to get laid, b) for the right reasons, as defined by my
target. Twenty-four years after falling in love with her, and eleven after having last spoken with
her, I can say, with certainty, that life has indeed gone on without her. Control over my women
addiction would have altered The Battle Of Kate, perhaps providing the maturity necessary to
win it. What made it so easy for Kate to restrain her attraction, aside from her having a super-
elite suitor-roster, was that she had conquered me sexually, and way too effortlessly. By taking
sex off the table, this would not have occurred, it would still have been game on, and she
would have had to escalate, just to block SHBLapdance. Risk-free game neutralizes her
fundamental advantage, of wanting me less than I wanted her, because I would have wanted to
be with her less than she with me, as that desire would have been zero, increasing only to match
hers, or come close, just to keep her working to equalize it.

To say it was only my loss that Kate rejected me, is to say it was better for her to
discard the man who loved her more than any other (this is not her choice), than for me to be
discarded by someone for whom I would have had to expend a great deal of energy and devotion.
This is almost like saying that strippers win if I leave their club without spending my
$10,000.00+in cash, because they rejected my money. Just how Kate won by throwing away
an ultimate resource like me is dubious, or how I lost by living to fuck another day, after a
super-elite bootcamp, is unclear The decision to separate was entirely Kates. I lost
decision-making power by choosing her, but she lost because she wanted what I had to offer, just
not within a serious relationship. Like true soulmates, neither of us was about to budge, change
much, or want the other to change, but because of my sex-addiction, I still wanted to get laid,
particularly by Kate.

I wrote 29 Reasons Not To Be A Nice Guy (Foxhunting from the PUA perspective
of ASF) more or less as a blueprint for winning, or circumventing, The Battle of Kate, with the
premise that getting laid meant victory. Because of this combat experience, I would win
many such victories with future targets, at times deploying, low, medium, and even high-risk
methods to do so, but that does not address the investing question of which approach is most
profitable, and risk-tolerance is a matter of individual taste. No guts, limited glory is the more
accurate form of the proverb. Without risk, you get a fraction of your results, but with zero risk,
a theoretically infinite return, as if lottery tickets had replaced the chocolates on I Love Lucy. It
is rarely wiser to purchase a thousand lottery tickets, rather than be given ten. Youll win
more often with the thousand, but youll never lose with the ten. In the long run, the latter
approach is more profitable, unless you hit the jackpot, which, at the Battle of Kate, I didnt.

The intentional VCABM (mine was unintentional, obviously) removes the sting from
losing your Kate, through the Plan B of reluctant-PUA game. This alters courtship of the
soulmate-target from a frame of desperation, to one of resolution, where I would have been
seeking, not to necessarily fuck Kate, but just to find out whether she wants me loving only her,
or feral, results-oriented, and unwilling to settle. At The Battle of Kate, this might have resulted
in something like this:


18

KATE: Nice room.

ME: Thanks. Lets not bore my future readers with chit-chat. I just
wanted to thank you for helping me escape that party! SHBLapdance
is fucking stalking me?

KATE: You mean the freaky one?

ME: You saw it too! Im just kidding: shes nice. Really into me, but I
dont know, shes kind of wild. Gave me a lapdance the night we met
and said dont make me seduce you. She said it like a real threat!

If Kate doesnt speak up here, she could lose me to SHBLapdance, with the fear I
might say I didnt know she was interested, yet another reason challenge-fox game works so
well. It also negs her by rejecting her, through my actions. We might continue:

ME: Yeah, sexually aggressive women make me suspicious. Like am I
really the only guy they do that with? Know what I mean?

KATE: Yeah.

ME: You got a boyfriend?

KATE: Nah. Last semester, not this one.

ME: Yeah, better to be alone than with the wrong person. I know when
we started talking a lot of guys were curious about your status so I
think they wanted you. I told them to ask you. Theyre funny.

KATE: Yeah I get hit on a lot. I dont mind if theyre polite about it.

Kate could win bracelets for her ability to not telegraph:

ME: Well I get hit on a lot, but mostly by gay men in Manhattan. You go
into the city much?

A neg, since I lived where she had dreamed of moving, all of her life.

KATE: All the time. I LOVE Manhattan! Im going to live there when I
finish here.



19
No fucking shit, Fashion Bitch. Instead, I tried to demonstrate high value (DHV) by
talking about my studies, how good my grades were, and how I had deliberately chosen an
upstate school because I knew Id never get any work done in Manhattan. This was all true, and
I never expected to find anyone like Kate there, another reason it took so long to fall for her. She
was in exile, impatiently awaiting her Manhattan destiny, while I had retreated to academic
isolation. To this extent, Kate was mere folly, due to my rule that I could only game her as
long as I kept my 4.0 GPA intact, much like an alcoholic who disclaims any drinking problem
because he still shows up for work. This did minimize the long-term damage, because my grades
didnt suffer, but I was still merely dry, not sober, and still a femaholic.

Control Over Your Sex-Addiction Is SEXY

What I call Emo PUAs (those who run Emo game based on emotion, rather than status
or wealth, which is lifestyle game) like to note that women are driven by emotion, and
conclude that Emo game is the way to go. Those who prefer the alpha approach believe the
opposite, that Emo volatility is her job, and stability his, the camp into which I fall. The man
who can control his women addiction is seen as unexploitable by a hotter rival, able to think
clearly in a crisis, and able to resist temptation, thus making him unlikely to stray (though he
may still choose to cheat).

Reverse-Timetable: The Year-Of-Celibacy Routine

In Foxes, I debuted the reverse-timetable technique. Its structure is simple:

HER: Lets wait.

ME: Lets wait longer.

HER: Lets fuck.

Longer was a year, so I figure its a good length for the celibacy part. The Year
of Celibacy standardizes the tactic, ensuring consistency of the canned material. Extremely
noteworthy here is that Kate actually spoke the first line of this otherwise-fictitious conversation,
which, through the magic of internet publishing, has me running this routine on her:

KATE: VirginDude is a virgin. Do you think thats cool?

Kate wants my opinion! I missed my chance to set the table for The Battle of Kate:

ME: Not at all, but I wouldnt do it myself. I do something a little
different with my girlfriends.



20
Choice of words yields the social proof of having girlfriends, but Kate would see
the proof of my options two doors down from the battlefield we would later share:

KATE: Oh? Whats that?

ME: If youre ever in the running, Ill let you know.

A curiosity play that can be used for just about anything you require of a lover. Call it
the need-to-know routine.

KATE: Oh come on! Were friends!

ME: Well, I guess youre not in the running!

KATE: Fuck you!

ME: Only if you meet the requirements.

KATE: Which are.?

ME: Damn, you got to win an argument and insult me with two words.
Impressive. Guess I can tell you now. Its the Year of Celibacy.

KATE: Sounds pretentious.

ME: Thats a bad thing? You might want to reconsider your fashion
career.

KATE: I didnt say that. What is it?

ME: Well the reason most guys dont like waiting for sex isnt that they
cant wait, its that they think theyll be waiting for nothing. Waitings
a good thing if he doesnt waste his time, but otherwise he can grow
old pretty fast if he gets led on. So I came up with a compromise.

KATE: Which is?

ME: Hold on a second. Im hungry. You want some pizza? Tag along
and Ill buy.

KATE: No, but a salad would be cool. Let me get my coat.



21
ME: You left it in my room. We can pick it up on the way when I get
mine.

KATE: Sure.

This is the self-explanatory cliffhanger game. Actually very easy to run, if one has the
presence of mind to venue-change at the cliffhanger, like when they go to commercials after the
wife discovers the babysitter standing over the patriarch with a knife. It also swipes a date, this
time at a quiet table in the pizza shop:

ME: Sure you dont want some pizza?

KATE: No! Now tell me!

ME: Tell you what?

KATE: Im leaving!

ME: Without your salad?

KATE: Arrrgh. Men!

Another compliment! She sees me as a man:

ME: Okay, here it is. Sex on the first date, followed by a year of celibacy,
with monthly polygraphs to determine if anyones been cheating.

KATE: Polygraphs!?

ME: Lie-detectors.

KATE: I know what they are, you Neanderthal! Are you fucking serious!?

ME: No comment on the sex-on-the-first-date requirement?

KATE: I understand that. You already explained it. But lie-detectors?

ME: Sure. Setting that aside, they have sex once to ensure shes not
teasing, then not for a year, so they can have a real relationship
without sex getting in the way. Also if no sex on the first date, no
second chances. I want the chemistry to be powerful.

KATE: Thats interesting.


22

Katespeak for Dont even try to figure out what Im thinking.

ME: Definitely, especially since we just complicated things by coming
here. Is this our first date?

KATE: No.

ME: Or yes, and we didnt have sex. Which is cool, because now we can
just stay friends.

KATE: Thats not fair!

ME: Besides, if you wanted me, youd have said this was our first date,
then wed go back to my room and fuck.

KATE: Youre crazy, do you know that?

ME: Crazy people need love too.

KATE: Hows the pizza?

ME: Good. To answer your question, I think its cool when a guy stays a
virgin if he can handle having his time wasted.

KATE: Yeah, I like guys who arent horndogs.

And so it would have gone. If she doesnt go for the pizza, I use the one-and-done
rule from Foxes, focus on other live targets, and let absence make her heart grow fonder. The
friendship then remains intact, and continues to grow, even after I leave school. The
communitys assault on LJBF ignores the reality that they rarely end, and do not preclude sex
with other targets. I gain an amazing friend, in addition to getting laid (with other targets).

As part of the VCABM, I also get bootcamp training from a pharmaceutical-grade
woman, a world-class target, a world-class pivot, and firsthand experience with a super-elite,
rather than some gurus speculation about what she might say or do. While I did not do this
with Kate, I did do it with the First Ace (the OTL), spending months in a very close friendship
that was constantly threatening to detonate sexually, yet which never crossed the line. I learned
more about game from the OTL than anyone, which is why I wound up at The Battle of Kate.
The foregoing raises the question of what would have happened if I had used a similar approach
with Kate. My sex-addiction had me shortening the courtship, specifically because of the
outcome with the OTL. Had I been willing to tolerate the friend zone, both would have been
live targets simultaneously.


23

The Bottom Line

Risk-free game, and taking sex off the table, are power plays, pure and simple. Like
showing up slightly late, it shifts all risks to the counterparty; in seduction, it neutralizes the
women addiction. By giving them the sexual restraint they claim to want, they are left with no
leverage. As many have noted:

The only thing most females cannot stand more than being treated like a sex
object, is not being treated like one.

Think of it like not being wealthy enough to attract a golddigger. You may not want
the golddigger, but you want the option.

Risk-free game still yields sufficient opportunity, and while it requires more work to
succeed, it avoids all the negative connotations that can come, even with mild sexual aggression.
On the other hand, if you like melting down in a bar, and having a crying fit that spooks the shit
out of your soulmate, by all means try what I did after I had lost The Battle of Kate. I followed
my heart, and took every risk in the book to win her heart, supposedly a romantic thing to do,
despite failure. This might be so, but that doesnt mean there werent better ways. I believe this
is that better way.

Lesson-Four-The-Pharmacology-Of-Women-(Full-Text)


24
Lesson Five:
Compatibility Explained

For all the tactics, strategy, and everything else injected into the previous analysis,
Kate and I were merely incompatible. This was put into song, first by Linda Ronstadt, and then
by Suzanna Hoffs, who explained it perfectly:

You and I
Travel to the beat of a different drum
Oh, can't you tell, by the way I run
Every time you make eyes at me? Whoa, oh
You cry, and moan and say it will work out
But honeychild, I've got my doubts
You can't see the forest, for the trees

So don't get me wrong; it's not that I knock it
It's just that I, am not in the market
For a boy who wants, to love, only me
Yes, and I ain't sayin', you ain't pretty
All I'm sayin', is I'm not ready
For any person, place or thing
To try and pull the reins, in on me

-- "Different Drum"

Kate and I were perfectly compatible in many ways, except she was completely
marriage-averse, and generally commitment-averse, while I was (for her) the opposite. I realized
that CUPID (the compatibility formula fromFoxes) had no accounting for this, which led to a
revision of my entire compatibility paradigm, into a much stronger gimmick, one which also
provides a better evaluation of true compatibility, beyond ones power rating (general
desirability) or partner rating (desirability to a specific target) under CUPID. Kate and I were
definitely compatible equals, yet were fatally incompatible, due to her marriage-aversion, or
we were true soulmates destined to live similarly independent lives, her by choice, and me by
reaction to her choice, and my refusal to settle for a DupliKate.

Marriage-Compatibility: CUPID's Main Flaw

The CUPID compatibility formula debuted in Foxes was rather straight forward:

1. CUPID measures SMV. The CUPID rating reflects general desirability. A
perfect CUPID rating is 100, with super-elites scoring 90, elites scoring
80, near-elites 60, and an average of 50. For males (being judged by
females), the CUPID rating equation was as follows: 55% looks, 20%
brains, 20% status, and 05% "personality," weighted accordingly. For the


25
target-class, it is 80% looks, 10% brains, and 10% status, with men not
caring about personality.

2. The partner rating replaces the standard CUPID weights with your
partner's specific value system. A golddigger, for example, will value status
and money more than 20%, often up to 100%, just as a minddigger would
do for brains, or a looksdigger for money. Men, by default, are
looksdiggers, as "digger" status applies to anyone who values a category at
80% or greater.

3. Under CUPID, the most compatible couples are those who have:

a. Equal raw CUPID ratings (societal equality).

b. Equally and maximally inflated partner ratings (partner equality,
or having what the other person wants, as with a rich man and
golddigger, beauty-queen and looksdigger, etc.).

The logic was simple: aim for targets who have what you want, who want what you
have, and where neither is likely to trade up. Under this formula, Kate, an obvious
minddigger, valued what I had, while my value system split looks and brains equally, which
meant I valued her inner beauty as much as her physicality. It just didn't account for her
marriage-aversion. She was simply never on the market for marriage, even if The Battle of Kate
was a booty call. The more serious I got, the more repelled Kate became. Outside of Kate, and
the OTL, plus the pair of Aces who would follow, I was every bit as marriage-averse as my
soulmate.

Since Kate was not dependent on men for her lifestyle, she had no need to exploit her
sexuality, and didnt. This was incredibly rare, and one of the reasons she was so difficult to
replace. In the final analysis, my decision not to marry at all was dictated solely by hers not
to marry me. Had Kate been marriage-minded, she might well have chosen me. Instead, she
had to slam on the brakes. A "PUA" might call this a foolish oneitis, but I wore it a proudly,
especially when I see that she turned out exactly as I had expected. Kates commitment-aversion
didn't make me love her any less; it just meant we wouldn't marry.

Love Is Like Contract Bridge

Out of some misguided, backfiring desire to sound intelligent, many "seduction gurus"
like to use exceptionally lame chess analogies, to highlight the similarities between seduction
and chess, the latter being THE game. Their actual chess strength is generally abysmal, since
chess theory takes a lifetime to master, with few shortcuts available, plus it is not exactly a SHB-
magnet (most of the time). The chess analogy is further flawed, because it is male-dominated,
which means chicks dont like it. It makes absolutely no sense to compare a game dominated by


26
females (seduction) to one dominated by males (chess). It is this which inspired the foundation
for my new compatibility paradigm: contract bridge.

Unlike chess, contract bridge is extremely similar to seduction:

1. It is played with cards, so it looks like a game, but is actually a social device
for females to interact with gay, or otherwise emasculated males, e.g., for
pussy-whipping their husbands. Unmarried, heterosexual males do not play
contract bridge, unless they have been kidnapped and threatened with
torture (mere death is no deterrent). The purpose of the game is for the
females to achieve total dominance over the males.

2. The rules shall be interpreted exclusively by the female, in a manner which
must never be understood by the male, and always in the light most
favorable to the female. In the event any male comes to understand any
rule, the rule is immediately invalidated, and must be changed.

3. All blame for any losses, or mistakes which could have led to a loss,
defaults to the male.

4. All arguments and other disputes shall be blamed on the male. In the
absence of current disputes, double-jeopardy is waived for past disputes,
provided the past dispute terminated in favor of the female. Any sex which
has occurred since any past dispute which has terminated in favor of the
male, shall be construed as a transactional mitigation of damages, and
waiver of all future claims, relating to said dispute.

5. Play shall continue until a male has violated one of the rules, thus
conferring guilt by association on the opposing male, at which point play
shall cease, with neither male getting laid until after the following game.

Joking aside, the card-CAT accounts for one's views on marriage, while CUPID does
not. Under this new paradigm, The Battle of Kate suddenly made sense, since our obviously
incompatible card-types did not affect our otherwise strong compatibility. This made her
ultimate rejection of me extremely painful, since she appeared within reach, when she never
really was. Pharmaceutical-grade women are available only by the choice to reject hundreds of
suitors, a trend not easily reversed. If it were, they wouldnt remain on the market any longer
than legal street-parking spaces in Manhattan.

Card-Compatibility Explained

Under card-compatibility, people are assigned a "facecard" based on their SMV,
covered by rank, and their primary relationship motivation. This allowed for an extra division to


27
account for marriage-mindedness, or the lack thereof, and which reveals, very clearly, the wall
into which I crashed when "gaming" Kate. The compatibility formula is relatively simple, and
works as follows.

By rank:

Rank Description

Ace "Elite" members of either gender, as measured by desirability.
Generally SHBs and "alpha males." Aces are defined by their
desirability, and, with the exception of one suit, tend to be poor
choices for marriage, even if most of them claim to want to marry, due
to having too many options, and too few "elite" partners from which to
choose. Super-elites and SHBs are always Aces, while some high-
ranking HBs will also qualify.

King Kings are the typical AFC provider chumps, who are supposed to do
much better than they actually do, or they are tamed Aces, who just
want to settle down, usually after a lengthy PUA career, or when age
is taking a natural toll on their game, and they no longer wish to
hunt.

Queen Queens are HBs or below who find it easier to marry than to compete
against Aces in the singles pool. They usually attempt to marry
natural Kings, since taming Aces is a bit beyond their grasp. Like
their male counterparts, Queens are often tamed Aces, or former
HBs (FHBs), who sense their declining market value, and cash out.
How well they fare at this will usually correlate with age.

Jack Jacks are males who lack the ability to provide for a wife the way a
King can, but who are otherwise similar in behavior to Kings. The
typical community PUA, particularly those who rely on Emo game,
is a Jack.

Ten Far from the Perfect Ten, the card-CATs "Ten" is the female
equivalent of a Jack, usually hot enough to attract a King, but not keep
him, since he is usually settling for her. Tens usually compensate by
being easy, not playing games, and sending unambiguous signals,
when into a higher-value male, in the hope of catching lightning in a
bottle. As a former lead in this highlight film, I can attest that this
strategy is far more effective than an arrogant SHB realizes.



28
Regular Cards ranked below ten are for those who offer very little for a
"facecard," but are not separated, usually receiving a "charity" rating
of Ten, or, if undeniably hideous, Nine, or maybe Eight, for the same
reason the 1-10 looks scale rarely dips below five.

Deuce As in cards, Deuces are "wild," and are capable of presenting as
multiple ranks, or any rank of their choosing, though they do not
change suit.

Joker Like Hannibal Lechter, or his Batman namesake, Le Joker fits no
known psychological profile. Also like Lechter, he can be quite
charming at first, even fascinating, and, if you are a criminologist, or
aspiring Fashion Bitch, you might even become obsessed enough to
fuck him, and then flaunt him to the guy you should have chosen
hypothetically, of course.

By suit:

Suit Description

Spades Motivated primarily by dominance, and equally by love and money.
Usually marriage-averse, but capable of morphing into a Club, or
demoting from Ace to King or Queen, as needed.

Hearts Motivated primarily by love. Usually searching for a soulmate, or a
right reason to have spiritual sex.

Diamonds Motivated primarily by money and status. The typical golddigger, and
prototypical adult-entertainer.

Clubs Motivated primarily by loyalty, and equally by love and money.
Primary desire is to please the opposite sex, yet not in a submissive
way. Defined by its preference for monogamy, LTRs, and marriage.
Clubs are usually "AFC" in their behavior, and are the "perfect
spouse" types. Clubs are also the only Aces who can remain such in
marriage. An Ace of Clubs can be "natural,' which is extremely rare,
or demoted or tamed Aces of Spades, a far more difficult adjustment.
Though most view themselves as Clubs, few are. The Clubs defining
characteristic is never intentionally letting others down.

Suddenly, The Battle of Kate made sense:

My fatal mistake was wanting to marry an Ace of Spades.


29

For that, I needed an Ace of Clubs, yet none were on my radar in 1985, as I had yet to
develop much respect for the card-type, due to only having attracted Tens of Clubs. The few
Aces of Clubs who do exist are rarely without men who thank their lucky stars. The Ace of
Clubs is:

1. Hot

2. Loyal, without being clingy.

3. Honest.

4. Ethical.

5. Doesn't pit you against or encourage rivals.

6. Lets you be you.

7. A freak in bed, but only for you.

8. A woman whose husband would have to be an idiot to leave her for an Ace
of Spades.

Compiling this list was painful, because I realized something:

I have just described Jennifer Aniston as the perfect wife.*

*Thefreak in bed part shall bepresumed until proven otherwise.

Men who think Angelina, or what she did, is sexier than Jen, are immature, and media-
brainwashed. Angelina is a classic Ace of Spades, while Jen is rarely on the market, because
she's playing for keeps. One wanted to keep Brad Pitt, while the other wanted to steal him; the
desires are opposites. An Ace of Clubs will claim the most desirable man who meets her
stringent requirements (she will not settle), while an Ace of Spades may trust the Ace of
Clubs judgment, and steal him. Whether or not the male grabs the bait depends on his card-
type, maturity-level, ethics, and sanity, which is seriously in question if he ignores the Ace of
Clubs.

If you want that one special hookup, an excellent, simplified approach to game is
this:

Find, seduce, and keep an Ace of Clubs.



30
Were Kate an Ace of Clubs, shed have been in an LTR long before my arrival. She
sampled every flavor of male, and chose none. As few students begin in January, this left me
with no visible rivals, as all had been vanquished prior to my arrival.

The Ace of Diamonds: The "Community" Target

Under the card-CAT, judgment is not passed on any perception of golddigging.
Instead, its purpose is to just properly identify obviously materialistic targets. For every negative
attribute one might attach to Rachel Uchitel, she has just as many positives, even if they are more
apparent to those with the VIP lifestyle, than to the masses. What makes the Ace of Diamonds
the preferred PUA target, is that she tends to probe more seriously than any other card-type,
and she is more likely to fuck in response to DHV stories, if she is convinced there is underlying
substance.

I Love Your TYPE: The Four Aces

Shifting your focus from finding your soulmate to finding your ideal type (mine is the
Ace of Clubs), creates a huge challenge fox benefit, since it allows you to love your targets
type, without loving a specific target. This will generally drive your target batshit crazy, because
she will have achieved her goal of being loved, and completely unable to exploit it. My
fascination with risk-free game stems from pondering how Kate, and the OTL before her, would
have reacted, if I had never courted either, never taken risks, been satisfied in the friend zone,
and fucked easier targets. By correctly noting their personality-types, loving their type, and
not forcing them to reject me, theyd have had to pass on something far more appealing than the
easy rejection I gave them, with my ignorance.

The card-CAT has helped me simplify target-calibration, even as time has ravaged my
"game." Younger readers will have higher CUPID ratings, and can put the card-CAT to much
better use. The young "PUA" who has this knowledge should become more astute at target-
calibration and at recognizing an Ace of Clubs, thus increasing his odds of winning the soulmate
game. For as much of a mistake as it was not to identify Kates card-type, not recognizing Le
Club's (the Fourth Aces) would have more severe consequences, since she was actually
available for marriage (more on that in Volume II).

Lesson-Five-Compatibility-Explained-(Full-Text)


31
Field Report Ground Zero:
I Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It!)

My risk-free first kiss validates the central thesis of this text:

DATE: 25 May 1980 19:32:21 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 13)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: OMG I KISSED A GIRL!!!!!!
NOW PLAYING: Do That To Me One More Time, Captain & Tennille
IN THE NEWS: NystromOT Goal Clinches First Cup For Isles.
TARGET CARD: Ace of Hearts

OMG I KISSED A GIRL!!! MY FIRST KISS!! OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
OMG!!!! I'M IN LOVE!! I'M GONNA HAVE MY FIRST GIRLFRIEND! OMG
OMG OMG!!!!!

This was like the BEST WEEKEND EVER!! Not only did I have my first kiss, but THE
ISLANDERS WON THE STANLEY CUP!!! Went to THREE Mets games, and even
they're looking decent for a bad team. They need to get rid of that J oe Torre
4
guy as
manager HE SUCKS!!! So here's what happened:

I'd been crushing on SHBSchool (9.5) all year, but never talked to her until a few weeks
ago, when I ran into her outside the school as I was cutting math class. This gave us
time to talk, because she was waiting for her many friends to leave. She wasn't like I
imagined, not stuck up at all, and I really enjoyed talking to her. She's so beautiful:
naturally blonde, perfect features, great smile, nice eyes, and getting some nice curves.
A perfect girl. She's also very nice. Suddenly we went frombarely knowing each other
to talking every day. She was a welcome addition to my routine.

Friday, I learn she's going away for the summer to Florida, a week before school ends
(she took her finals early), and she was having a little get-together after school, to which
I was invited. I said sure, and hung out with her and a bunch of cool kids I had been
mutually avoiding all year, and they were nice enough. We got "wild" (for kids our age)
by drinking beer in the middle of 83rd and Broadway, but no one really cared, since we
were well-dressed preppies and they probably feared our parents. We went to Burger
King because the beer made us really hungry. I had a steak sandwich with bbq sauce to
kill the hunger, and we went back out to Broadway to finish the beer and say our
goodbyes. We're down to like six of us, and I turn to SHBSchool to say goodbye and
wish her a good summer, when she just kisses me like something straight out of that
Brady Bunch episode where Peter had his first kiss. I will never forget how that kiss
felt; it was wonderful. Turned me on a lot, and exploded my crush. I want her for my

4
After being fired by the Mets, Torre went on to lead the Atlanta Braves to several division titles, and the Yankees to four world
championships.


32
girlfriend, but she's going away. She did give me her address in Florida, and I promised
to write.

The next day, I go out on my bicycle, do a few laps of Central Park, then exit the park at
59th and 7th, head to 55th, and turn towards Sixth, since SHBSchool lived on that block
(found this out fromthe class list). I didn't expect to see her, but wanted to see where
she lived. Midtown kids are usually rich and isolated, and they usually go away for the
summer <sigh>. I would have kept riding, except I noticed an electronics store that was
open, with a guy (IslesDude) sitting in front watching the Islanders in Game Six of the
Finals against the Flyers. Since I can't get home for a half hour fromthere, I ride in and
ask if I can watch the game. IslesDude says sure, and I sit down.

IslesDude shares his thoughts on SHBSchool, the kiss, and women in general. He says
men like lesbian porn because we like to see two objects of love making love, and I
dunno about that but it sounds right though I'm still a virgin so I'll get back to you. The
Isles won the game and the Cup, in OT (at 7:11), and I left the store feeling great. As
I'mpedaling up the street, I run into not SHBSchool, but HBSchool (8.5), her sister!
HBSchool never really liked me but must have heard about the kiss, since she was nicer
to me than before. It was like she had guys coming by for her sis all the time too LOL
no surprise there. We talk for a few minutes, then I pedal back to the park, do a few
more laps, exit the Park Drive uptown east, then zip home.

When I get home I call SHBSchool to get her ZIP code in Florida, and she gives it to
me. Don't want her to think I'mhitting on her here so I just tell her I'll write to her, hang
up, and sit down to write her a letter. I didn't want to talk on the phone because she was
busy packing and we weren't gonna meet anyway. Instead, I wrote her a love letter that
spilled my guts about how I felt about her. I know girls like guys who show their
feelings; they tell me this all the time! I mail the letter so I can't chicken out, and then I
was bored tonight, so I wrote her another love letter and just mailed that! I think I'll stop
now, because she knows how I feel and it's up to her to do something about it. I'mpretty
sure she will, because she wouldn't have kissed me if she didn't like me, right?

Right! Will post an update when she writes back. I can't wait!!

Ray


Its been so long, I cant even remember if it was just beer.

I Wonder why they never did a show about some middle-age guy reflecting on his
teenage Years. Nah, no one would watch. Since Dad died in 1979, IslesDude, my first guru,
gave the closest thing to the talk about sex, the first time I had ever really discussed the topic
with anyone. I had been riding around all day, needed a rest, he had air-conditioning, with the
game on, and a clear view of SHBSchools building entrance. I learned a lot, and got to watch
my Isles win their first of four consecutive Stanley Cups. They are, to this day, the last true


33
dynasty (four straight titles) in any professional sport, something even the Oilers, Bulls (x2),
Lakers, Yankees, 49ers, and Cowboys could not accomplish. The Bills lost four straight Super
Bowls (two in a row to the Cowboys), which makes them a near-dynasty.

Here, I took very minor risks, reacted to a live target, one who had established
unavoidable proximity, pursued a friendship, because I was too timid to try for more, and wound
up kissed by an SHB, to break my true virginity. Even my first lay was less of a quantum leap
than this, because I had already rejected several sure things leading up. Here, whether or not I
would ever kiss a girl was still technically in question. I seriously doubt this was her first kiss,
but I never asked.


With zero game, I get kissed by an SHB. Not much revision-fodder here. The
mini-bootcamp from IslesDude was similar to what one might get today, for a price. An
extremely productive day, and a memorable weekend. I danced on air for the remainder of
Friday, all the way to the Mets game (where WaiterDude gave me shit for being too into the
girl), through the weekend, and for a while thereafter, including a Billy Joel concert, and Duran-
Leonard I, a pair of events which made for a pretty cool summer, for a thirteen year-old.

Report-Ground-Zero-I-Kissed-A-Girl-(And-I-Liked-It)-Full-txt


34
Field Report Zero Point One:
The First Cut Is Not The Deepest

The perfect storm of women addiction, cluelessness, and media-brainwashing, crashes
ashore:

GROUPS: alt.seduction.fast
DATE: J une 1980
FROM: Ray (Age 13)
SUBJ ECT: FR: SHBSchool LJ BFs Me
NOW PLAYING: It's Still Rock n' Roll To Me, by Billy J oel
IN THE NEWS: Sue Ellen 2-1 Favorite As J .R. Ewing Shooter

AARRRGH I WANNA DIE!!!! SHBSCHOOL LJ BFD ME!!

Heres the fucking letter she sent me:

Dear Ray,

Blah blah blah last few weeks of school blah blah blah blah blah GREAT guy blah blah
blah LOVE TALKING TO YOU blah blah blah blah blah.

Your Good Friend,
SHBSchool

cc: entire eighth-grade history class

Blah.


I feel a credit-card commercial coming on:

$29.95 Seduction eBook
$299.95 Seduction DVD set
$2,999.95 Seduction bootcamp

Getting your heart smashed by the thirteen year-old super-elite who gave you
your first kiss...priceless!

Left to fend for myself for ideas, the love letter seemed logical, because she was long-
distance, and because I wanted to know, before September, if she was going to be my first
girlfriend. In a way, I made the ho say no, as Allen Gunwitch Reyes would put it. In theory,


35
this gained her respect; in practice, it fractured my heart, but, thanks to the very cluelessness that
led to the failure, I would heal quickly, mostly via playing baseball during the day, with the
Official Major League rawhides (blue for American League, black for National; identical
otherwise), which I would snare at Met and Yankee batting practice, when I wasnt busy
undercutting Moms messenger service, at $5.00 per package to midtown, and $10.00 for
downtown (vs. $8.00 and $16.00), with the advantage of a much quicker response time. Having
a house messenger was a status symbol for Mom, and she employed most of my friends, when
things got busy, or if I wanted time off to spend all my cash.

The "cc: entire eighth-grade history class" in the report symbolizes the, irrational
"AFC" fear of public humiliation by a rejecting target, particularly an SHB. This experience
helped me get over that silly, yet paralyzing, fear, so it had elements of the CABM. The reader
can rest assured that, if rejected, nothing will happen other than life going on. Its easy to fear
such public humiliation, but real life is not so dramatic.

Report-0.1-The-First-Cut-Is-Not-The-Deepest-(Full-Text)


36
Field Report Zero Point Two:
My First Returning Fox

For those who wonder how this tactic was developed, it was pretty fucking impossible
not to notice it here:

DATE: October 1980 (a Friday)
FROM: Ray (Age 13)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Ambushed by SHBSchool, AMOGed by History Teacher!!!
NOW PLAYING: Good Times, by Chic
IN THE NEWS: Brett, Royals, Sweep Yanks, Advance to Series

WTF? I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND GIRLS!!!!

Remember SHBSchool? Who LJ BFd me? Well, shes back. Sorta. Not as a student,
but she came to visit the school today. That was kinda cool but the way she did it was
fucked up. I should have known something was up a few weeks ago when some random
guy (turns out to be her brother) stops me in the hall and says My sister says hello.
Imlike whos youre sister? and hes like You know. I didnt know. Did she think
I was crying over her all summer or something? God. Stupid girls.

I know youre thinking I met her on the steps again or something. Oh no not her not Ms.
drama queen. She meets me in my HISTORY CLASS, first thing in the morning Shes
sitting NEXT TO THE FUCKING TEACHER, the same one I ate breakfast with every
day before the school moved. Hes got a shit-eating grin on his face and shes sitting
next to him. Oh and I still dont know its her, but I figured it was because of all the
commotion. Class of twenty-five kids all sitting there watching in silence. I felt like I
was on the fucking Gong Show. TeacherDude is like Ray, we have a visitor for you.
Do you want to say hi to her?



37
Not wanting to make a fool out of myself, I shot back Im sorry, do I know you? I
looked all confused because I was not sure it was her. She was also like an SHB9.8 by
now, tanned, thinner, and curvier. A fucking wet dream. TeacherDude is like Oh, I
think you know her. Imthinking isnt rejecting me once enough? and begin to get
pissed, so I just play it off like I dont know her and open my books, which I never do in
class, so TeacherDude knew I wasnt pleased. I left the classroomand dont see her the
rest of the day, thank God.

Ray

p.s. -- Now I'mcrushing on SHBDye (9.7), a chick in my geometry (10th grade) class,
with a perfect body and bleached-blonde hair. She's like PERFECT! I need to figure
out what to say to her!


On the upside, I figured nothing I would subsequently experience would ever be
worse than this. I was wrong. Once this target had invaded my privacy, I had no choice but to
pretend not to recognize her, just to play it safe.


My classmates were shocked to see unfinished business between me and a super-
elite. The teacher was more of a friend, since we had eaten breakfast together so many times.
This crash and burn did yield the returning-fox theory, and made me aware of the microscope,
two mainstays of my game for almost thirty years, and counting. By all logical accounts, we
were done, yet there she was, ambushing me in front of my class, after I had ignored her
brother. Im assuming there was a lay in here somewhere.

Report-0.2-My-First-Returning-Fox


38
Lesson Six:
Kate-Positive Lifestyle Isolation

Had I any idea The Battle of Kate was coming, Id have chosen a more Kate-positive
lifestyle, defined as anything which would have improved my odds of winning The Battle of
Kate. Derivative terms include SHB-positive, and OTL-positive. Behavior which would have
decreased my odds at The Battle of Kate is Kate-negative. These themes will factor heavily in
Volume II.

Lifestyle isolation refers to what the reader should be doing in the absence of live
targets, namely improving his odds of getting laid, preferably by super-elites. He can be Kate-
positive, or just SHB-positive, but the former is the gold-standard, due to Kates target-
supremacy, which makes anything that scores points with Kate, a universal DHV, another major
theme of Volume II. Several key elements of Foxhunting involve lifestyle isolation, such as not
running game while raising ones CUPID rating (say through bodybuilding, for looks points,
or a musical instrument, for status and a gimmick), with the idea of emerging a stronger PUA.
It is the ultimate in indirect game, because it is not aimed at any specific target, but at all targets.
Kate-positive lifestyle-isolation applies the concept to specifically improving ones chances of
fucking Kate, something I did not do, because I had no idea I would one day fall in love with
Kate.

It quickly became apparent, after my first kiss, that I still had no PUA skillz. I knew
what it was like to kiss a girl, and could forever claim to have done so, but was unable to
replicate the results. I talked to many targets, most notably SHBBrazil (9.95), a flirty neighbor
who had a nice shield, the opposite of the bitch shield, and rejected males by vaporizing them,
i.e., never allowing a fair chance to escalate. I did learn to aim high, on the belief that nothing
short of a jackpot could justify the rejection risk. This strengthened the bootcamp component of
the VCABM, by ensuring a string of SHBs as super-elites as my free bootcamp instructors, and
they have better game, because they are exposed to it by the PUAs who hit on them. I liken
it to learning to play chess in Moscow, versus say Iowa.

My first serious lifestyle isolation, which ran through early 1982, or late 1981,
depending on scorekeeping, was extremely productive, as it allowed me to find myself, while
laying the groundwork for several of my lifetime pursuits, most notably horseplaying, something
Dad had trained me to do from toddlerhood, along with every other form of gambling, because
he didnt want me losing money as an adult. I learned how to read the Daily Racing Form
(DRF) and the tote board at five. At eight, was betting the NYRA (Belmont, Aqueduct,
Saratoga) races on Saturday afternoon, to watch on tape-delay on the old Channel 9 (WOR)
show, and the harness races from Yonkers and Roosevelt, at 11:30 p.m., which wiped the first
half-hour of Saturday Night Live. Dad knew I was a math prodigy, which is why I loved the
tote board, and the DRF (or Harness Line). He was a winning horseplayer himself, having once
split a $17,000.00+jackpot with his date, mere weeks before he hit the same twin double wager
(four consecutive winners, with a payoff after the first two, slightly different than a pick-four, or


39
p4) while out with Mom, for $32.00, thus giving him the record for highest and lowest payoffs
on that bet, at that track.

Another Kate-negative hobby from this era was professional sporting events, a
privilege of my paycheck, and $40.00 a week summer allowance (up from $15.00 the rest of the
year), money I actually won prior to Dads death, as I used to wind up each year well ahead,
including the time Dad used my pick of a 21-1 shot to win $1,700.00+. His policy was to double
my allowance until my winnings were paid off, but I wound up so many years ahead, that he just
doubled it in perpetuity, from $7.50, when I was ten. Mom hated the track, particularly when she
tagged along with Dad, who sat in the grandstand, and never involved her in his handicapping.
As an Ace of Clubs, she was supportive, and more tolerant than she should have been. As an
idiot, Dad never appreciated the value of an Ace of Clubs, despite being married to one.

In September, 1980, I stopped going to baseball games, due to school nights, and
because Mom finally realized I missed the track, and had no way to bet. She had taken me and
my SHBCousin (9.6), her niece, to the Belmont Stakes. Due to insider-trading laws, this pivot
was off-limits as a target, but had excellent bootcamp value, who shared her many tales of
rejecting most men, dating a few, and the trials and tribulations of a super-elite. Her brother,
PUACousin, had better game than any internet guru, as will be made clear to the reader. He
gave me a bit of a complex, because his results were so spectacular, yet also taught me to aim
high

. Mom enjoyed the Belmont Stakes outing, noting Temperence Hills $108.00 win
payoff, and decided on a return trip, later in the summer. This time, we found the second-floor
Clubhouse dining room, which offered quality time, in a relaxed, upscale environment (lunch
was about $15.00+for two), and a chance to win money. Mom, often mistaken for my date, and
thus a pivot, was very popular with the crowd, but I made sure to AMOG anyone who got too
close. If she had been a Diamond, she had her pick of wealthy targets, including the elderly auto
dealer, who once bragged of betting $200.00 on a 19-1 shot I gave him, only to have it run
second. My first contrarian wager would soon follow, when stuck in line behind the one and
only J immy The Greek Snyder, unsure of whether to bet #3 (6-1), or #4 (8-5 favorite), until I
listen to the legend:

GREEK: $200.00 to win on #4.

ME: $4.00 to win on #3.

My height had shot up to 59, so I was able to bet at some windows. When my 6-1
shot beat The Greeks 8-5 shot, the self-explanatory asshole angle, a contrarian approach, was
born. Going against The Greek would have been most profitable in the 1986 season, when he
picked 33 percent winners for the year. SNL reruns deleted the skit where Joe Montana does a
mock PSA for The United Way, about the Jimmy The Greek Homeless, whom he educated to
bet against him. The Greeks reputation was made when he called Dewey over Truman, his


40
only notable winner. That summer, I had educated myself with Ainslies Complete Guide To
Thoroughbred Racing, and learned class handicapping, as a way of picking winners,
including Imperialism (24-1), who had won two races back against the same class level, lost
against better company, and then dropped back to his winning level. What I did not realize, was
that Ainslies 1967 work was, like the celebrated AFC of the 1970s (Phil Donahue, Alan Alda,
etc.), on its last legs, just barely profitable.

Saturday, November 1, 1980 was a landmark day in my household. As usual, Mom
called the only NYC taxicab that is a Mercedes, whose driver specialized in long-distance radio
calls (duh), for the journey from home to Aqueduct, at a surprisingly low $12.00 fare (plus tip).
Around 11:45, as we were awaiting lunch, Mom asked for my picks. Since I realized this was
going to be an ongoing issue, I arose from the table, walked to the newsstand by the entrance,
purchased a DRF and program, for placement on Moms tablesetting, and advised her to do her
own handicapping. Mom asked for some pointers, and I said that jockeys and workouts were a
good place to start, giving her a brief schooling on fast and slow times for each distance, and
showed her the jockey standings.

In the second race, Mom picked Gentleman J insky (13-1), because she remembered
seeing Nijinsky (his sire) run, figuring that any horse whose sire she knew, must have been pretty
good. He won, and she never looked back, netting $400.00+for the day. She would remain
profitable until she died, in 2007. The next day, she returned to play at OTB, no longer
concerned about ambience, in an irony only Dad could have truly appreciated. From then on, we
would visit once or twice a day, and keep tabs on the results (and stretch calls) via radio or
phone. OTB brought NYRA to the streets of Manhattan, part of the daily goings-on, in which
many Manhattanites would participate. The depictions of horseplaying in The Odd Couple were
mostly accurate, except for Oscars occasional ability to watch or listen to live races, something
that wouldnt come until 1981 for audio, and 1986 for video.

Much of my time during this period was spent bicycling (for work or recreation) and
playing sports with the stickball posse in the good weather, and poker or chess in the bad,
including an infamous all-night poker game at my apartment. Ninth grade was awful, with
SHBSchool having departed, and no live targets replacing her, save for my new crush, SHBDye,
a geometry classmate who ignored me. By February, I was informed that I had already flunked
the year for cutting too often (60+days), an annual threat I had ignored since fourth grade. This
time, however, I had gone over every legal limit for absence, and was going to be flunked.
Having been mugged outside the Burger King by students of the reform school no one told me
was across the street, nor the reduced academic standards, had endeared me to the new location.

Faced with summer school, I elected to jettison the year, which meant I was now on
course to graduate in 1985, at eighteen, which I would have done originally, had I been properly
retained for a second year of kindergarten (I was born in January, after the cutoff, but deemed
too smart to hold back). This allowed for total lifestyle isolation, an eight-month vacation,
during which I would work full-time for Mom, and live more or less as an adult Manhattanite.


41
Academically, I would not break a sweat for almost four years, something which would leave me
quite refreshed when college rolled around, and it was time to get serious. This period of finding
myself, and developing my hobbies and interests, gave me a lifestyle foundation which would
benefit my game thereafter. I play horses to this day, and have even incorporated it into my
publishing company.

Chess also became a favorite hobby during this period, as did skating, two things
which would also play increasingly significant roles in seduction. Had I just gone out and
sarged, I would have gotten shitty results, pissed off most targets, and not developed my
lifestyle game. I had a few live targets, including NHBMets (6.9), a Pirates fan who attended
their visiting games, but that only led to a few phone calls, thus showing me the limitations of
#closing. By far, the most significant aspect of this period of lifestyle isolation was having free
run of Manhattan, day or night, for almost an entire year, while still being on course to graduate
on time. It also gave me time to really develop my horseplaying, which would have
significant, and lifetime, financial consequences. For all the shit I used to take for being a
degenerate horseplayer, beginning at age five would prove a useful head start, particularly as I
aged. The other advantage I had, as a teen handicapper, was that I had literally all day and night
to do it, not the case for my peers.

In the spring of 1981, I met Banned4Life, his future internet moniker, at the local
gambling night for a church, where I had won $50.00+on various games, with an amazing run of
luck. We went back to my apartment, talked horses all night, and immediately began going to
OTB every day, since he could place my bets (he was seventeen but never got carded). Mom
continued to win, so the three of us would go, sometimes to the track, but Banned and I began
studying more advanced handicapping techniques, particularly Andrew Beyers speed-figure
method, as outlined in his 1975 classic Picking Winners. Later on, I will recommend avoiding
other males except in very limited circumstances. One reason this friend was so easily made
was his homosexuality. He respected boundaries, but never admitted his preference either. Any
community of males is going to have lots of men trying to slip under the radar.

Beyers work contradicted Ainslies, as Beyer claimed that final time (speed) was
more important than the race conditions and purses (class). Beyer was proven right, and his
followers were sucking increasing money out of the pools, making Ainslies approach
unprofitable. I knew how to make speed-figures, but doing so required getting the DRF every
day, and doing about an hour of work, which I believed was best done with a computer. Banned
was also familiar with pace handicapping, Howard Sartins specialty. Horseplayers had a
community that communicated through these books, and when their readers gathered to bet
races. Banned also made it possible for me to bet on trips to Yonkers or Roosevelt, where Mom
usually would not tread. Profits were steady, but small, as in rarely more than a few hundred
dollars for a day.

On the eve of the 1981 Belmont Stakes, I called CNN, when John Campo, trainer of
Triple-Crown hopeful Pleasant Colony, was the guest. I asked him if he worried about a horse


42
like Summing stealing the race, by setting a slow pace. Never been done, said Campo,
ignoring that Bold Forbes had done just that in 1976. That Friday, I had Banned place a $2.00
late-double bet at Yonkers, which won, with horses paying 2-1 and 14-1, a $90.00 payoff on the
win parlay (usually a good predictor of the double payoff). In this case, the double paid $310.00
, or triple the parlay, and my biggest win ever to date. I wound up losing on Belmont day, and
not even betting Summing, due to the rain (Mom had him on my early advice), but scored a nice
profit on the weekend.

Horseplaying has no direct application to seduction, particularly if one is not a
profitable horseplayer. For one who is, however, it can be made the centerpiece of some
amazing canned material, with winnings immediately deployable in lifestyle game. Since it is
possible to win fortunes at the track, this time spent in handicapping isolation was strengthening
my lifestyle game, with maximum impact, due to the age at which I began my work with Beyers
cutting-edge theory. Like Mystery, Beyer had become legendary for turning losers into winners,
with his magic-bullet method. In many ways, the phenomena were identical, particularly the
elements of greed, self-help, and tangible results once thought impossible. I was a believer in
Beyer, but was still winning enough with Ainslies approach, and my harness theories (many of
which transferred), not to change. Mom did her own thing, mostly with pedigree, jockeys, and
company handicapping (measuring horses in direct competition), combined with a price-
aggressive approach, to make several big scores, and turn a bill-paying profit, which disguised
our deteriorating financial condition.

In March, 1981, I would win another $200.00, thanks to a $5.00 gift ticket from a
superintendent, who was into trainers as a handicapping factor. The bet won, enabling me to
take Mom out to dinner, and made me take enough notice to analyze who was conditioning my
horses. This man also rolled $50.00 in his phone-betting account into $7,400.00+, in a few
months, letting me know what was possible, if I ever developed a sustainable advantage. He was
hardly alpha, but had a lot of free time to handicap, a free apartment, and this was his second
income. He bought me my first bar drink, to celebrate the double win. Few would consider him
an ideal male role model, but I admired his autonomy, while expanding my horizons beyond
superficial stereotyping. Manhattans Law & Order witness types always fascinated me, as they
are who makes the city run.

The Skating Gimmick

In March, 1981, after liquidating some of my collection via a table at a baseball-card
show ($200.00 net), I purchased a pair of custom, top-of-the-line skates, with the following
specs:

Rydell 220 boot
GM-II plate
SKF bearings
SKF indoor wheels


43
Kryptonic outdoor wheels

Public transportation in Manhattan, particularly for a messenger, can be hideous at
times. The #6 train, the busiest in America, is often so crowded that one has to stand exactly
where the doors would stop, to have a shot of getting on, and there is always the threat of
winding up stuck between stations. I generally turned to my bicycle, and then my skates, for
primary transportation. The backbone of my daily messenger run for Mom included a round-trip
to her bread-and-butter client, the New York Society of Security Analysts (NYSSA), of their
daily analyst meeting, the tapes of which I would pick up once I arrived at 71 Broadway with the
previous days transcripts, thus grinding Wall Street to a halt until a thirteen year-old got there
on his bicycle. For the return trip, I would hit Church Street, which turned into Sixth Avenue,
picking up a few more packages on the way home. Needless to say, I was fit, as well as flush
with cash, thanks to a job that has since been replaced by e-mail, and FTP servers.

The other quantum leap during this isolation was attributable to a secret technique:
aging. During this hiatus, I matured considerably, as the gap narrowed with older targets, and
younger ones came of age. My increasingly wealthy neighborhood would offer access to an
abundance of SHBs and super-elites, thus allowing me to practice in the big leagues in a way
most do not experience until college. At the track, I had a thirteen-year head start, since my
peers were not even allowed to handicap, let alone bet. As adults, they lacked my formal
education from Dad, then Ainslie, then Banned, and Beyer. While my life in Manhattan was
not entirely Kate-positive, its culture will rub off on anyone, while its world-class target-pool
cannot be matched for bootcamp value, and was critical in preparing me for The Battle of Kate.

Reframing dry spells as lifestyle isolation, allows us to get our shit together, from
time to time, without sweating inactivity. The entire frame of the loser who cant get laid, or
just the man who isnt getting laid is target-driven, designed to keep men competing to feed their
women-addiction. Even in that frame, if one accepts that targets like men with interests and
hobbies, perfecting ones ability in his avocations, would make him more interesting, anytime he
displays his talent. For me, that meant a status bump anytime horse racing was involved, or
when I was skating, though the times I would skate into the OTB did not compound the effect.
Aside from the gimmick value of skating, it kept me in great shape, particularly my lower body.

Traditional academics were mostly absent from my teens. That I managed top grades
in college is either a compliment to my prep-school education, an insult to higher education, or a
little of each. Regardless, I was well-read, well-informed, and worked a full-time job that took
me all over Manhattan, and into its biggest offices (I used to skate directly into CNNs World
Trade Center storefront to personally hand Lou Dobbs the MoneyLine transcripts). Thanks to
having cable a decade early, I got to watch CNN, TBS, and any other premium content not
available to others, while Manhattan itself offered information goldmines, in its libraries,
museums, and historic area. My messenger skillz netted me a living, at fourteen, and I had the
option of dropping out, as several of my friends had, followed by a GED at sixteen, but preferred
the traditional route, particularly since I could cut most days anyway.


44

This bout of lifestyle isolation would terminate in September 1981, upon my entry into
ninth grade redux at my local public junior-high, with my elementary class a year removed,
leaving me strangers for classmates, and teachers who acted like I got lost on the way to Dalton.
School was government-sanctioned slavery, and I was not going to do anything more than the
bare minimum. Somehow, through all of this, I managed to study enough geometry to pass, by
passing the Regents exam, after a warning that Id never be able to repeat the way I cruised
Algebra (50 on the final, 88 on the standardized test). Test-takers always got hated on, even
though college favors them strongly.

Next up are the few field reports from this isolation period, most of which demonstrate
why isolation was the correct choice.

Lesson-Six-Kate-Positive-Lifestyle-Isolation-(Full-Text)


45
Field Report Zero Point Three:
My First Bitch Shield

Who needs a "community" when you can learn a new tactic firsthand? To wit:

DATE: J une 1981 (a Saturday)
FROM: Ray (Age 14)
SUBJ ECT: FR: A Day At The Roxy
NOW PLAYING: Rapture, by Blondie
IN THE NEWS: Hinckley Reportedly Obsessed With Foster
TARGET CARD: Queen of Diamonds

Called up PrepDude yesterday and went to his apartment. SIX fucking bedrooms on
Park Avenue, and he's hitting ME up for spending money because his dad is teaching
him"responsibility." Momlaughs at that, saying money is to be enjoyed, and the ability
to make more is your "savings." I bust my ass for my money anyway, and could work
for any messenger service in the city if I weren't working for her. PrepDude doesn't
even fucking work. Lazy fucking shithead. Yeah, but his mom, SHBPrepMom(9.1
even near forty) is SMOKING, and his sis, HBPrepSis (8.0), is gonna be gorgeous in a
few years. They can't stand me, mostly because I don't dress up. His grandfather is a
Hall of Fame baseball player everyone knows, and he stopped by to give me an
autograph I didn't want. Reggie J ackson lives a block away!

So PrepDude is into skating, and we skate home from school sometimes since it's the
same route. He suggests Club Roxy, at 23rd and 11th, a converted roller rink/nightclub
that lets us in weekend afternoons. I place my day's bets at OTB, check the results by
phone (won $40.00+), and get back to the rink. Dance with this black NHB (6.2), but no
real attraction (race not an issue with me), but then I see HBFinger kinda smiling at me.
Don't know what to do, so I don't do anything, just keep skating. I see her again a few
minutes later, then a few minutes after that, then we skate with our friends again, then I
see her on the main floor, and she GIVES ME THE FINGER before laughing and
walking off.

Okay, I feel like I did something wrong. No idea what. If this is what adult clubs are
like, it's lame.

Ray


SHBPrepMom was my first up-close look at a genuine Diamond (other than an
SHBAunt). She was probably used to her fan club, and was polite enough, but the family
environment was cold, with his Dad what I call a seething alpha male (SAM), the kind of
control-freak who always seems ready for conflict, trusts no one, and rules his corner of the


46
business world. I was not used to being outclassed, but was hardly the poor-relative stereotype
they assigned me, because I dressed down, due to my skating, and my general disdain for
alligators. PrepDude once attempted to play seduction guru by explaining to me the need to
dress better, groom better, and be cooler, but he was not one to talk, and I had no interest in
lifestyle game, something at which he excelled. Why he wasted so much time with me was
beyond me, and evidenced his lack of acceptance with his socioeconomic peers, or just a
common interest in skating.

The Roxy turned me off to indoor skating, due to too many amateurs fucking around,
while HBFinger turned me off to club game, since I couldnt even pull in one with my favorite
gimmick. I began realizing that the targets who went to clubs were stuck-up, shallow,
superficial, and definitely not soulmate-material. This would shift my soulmate-search those I
met in the course of my normal life, like SHBSchool. My preoccupation with the latters titular
team, and the Yankees, Jets, Giants, Rangers, and Islanders was strong enough to keep me
involuntarily celibate for the foreseeable future, with absolutely zero opportunity on the horizon,
an example of the dangers of a Kate-negative lifestyle. Had I known The Battle of Kate was
looming, Id have spent more time in the Fashion District, Lincoln Center, Carnegie Hall, and
Greenwich Village. I did hang out on Mott Street a lot, but mostly for the arcade, and the
amazing restaurants. Manhattan dining was my only Kate-positive trait at this point.


I wouldnt change a thing. HBFingers bootcamp value was priceless, because it
shifted my soulmate-search away from nightlife venues, thus saving me countless time,
resources, and frustration. Unlike Mystery, who dove into this snakepit in order to figure it out, I
had no interest in the drama or conflict, instead just continuing my soulmate-search.

Report-0.3-My-First-Bitch-Shield-(Full-Text)


47
Field Report Zero Point Four:
Stood Up By A Blind Date

Teenage boys don't bother with such silly games:

DATE: J uly 1981
FROM: Ray (Age 14)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Stood up by SHBPrank
NOW PLAYING: Another One Bites The Dust, by Queen
IN THE NEWS: Strike Leaves Rose Tied With Musial

This was just cruel, but educational. I knew who SHBPrank (9.4) was, but she didn't
think I knew. I think this was her way of telling me she knew I liked her, and didn't like
me. Tell me something I don't fucking know.

I get this strange call froma "girl" who says she doesn't want to give her name, is a
"secret admirer," and wants to go out with me. I'mlike yeah whatever, tell her I'll be
eating at Chock Full O' Nuts at 54th and Madison on Wednesday (today) at noon, if she
wants to meet. I work the stop into my day, since I like the coffee shop anyway, and can
always find something to do. Schedule it for noon so I can bet the double at Belmont
after she no-shows, which I know she will.

She does.

I call up the Met groupies after to let themknow I knew, they deny it, and that's that. I
don't even act pissed because I wasn't. They're just stupid girls who wonder why they
can't find a nice guy. Probably because after meeting them, any nice guys are no longer
nice.

SHBPrank is damn hot, but she doesn't go to too many games.

Ray


Note to female readers: not expecting conduct like this to create badboys or jerks
is delusional. Expecting nice guys to take a punch like this, and just remain nice, is just
delusional. Targets scorned, on the other hand, will hold grudges for years, even enlisting others
to act out against the malfeasors, often well after the fact. Men do not want to be divorcing this
type, an theres only one way to assure they never will. Men who dont just let go of a wrong
like this are further accused of hating women, as if they are supposed to realize that, deep down,
they must have done something to deserve being stood up. Right.



48
After Further Review....

PUAs do well because they presume bullshit like this, call the target on it, and wind
up with a victory-addicted challenge fox, hooked on defeating them, even resorting to fucking
them, if they have to, in order to win. When this fails, they claim they were used for sex,
and play victim once again, even as they shit on guys like me, in situations like this. The AFC
buys into this drama, feeds them all the attention they can handle, and then complains that hes
rejected in favor of the jerks. Risk-free game sidesteps the foregoing drama, while increasing
winning chances, for a strategic no-brainer.

Report-0.4-Stood-Up-By-A-Blind-Date-(Full-Text)



49
Field Report Zero Point Five:
Sexy Canary In The Coal Mine

Sit on the sidelines long enough, and the coach will call your number:

DATE: 07 Oct 1981 07:32:21 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 14)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Flirting Over Breakfast
NOW PLAYING: Private Eyes, by Hall & Oates
IN THE NEWS: Sadat Assassinated; Egypt, World Mourn
TARGET CARD: Ace of Spades

Met SHBSchool over breakfast at my favorite coffeeshop. I have the same thing every
morning:

Two eggs, over easy, with ham
French fries, instead of home fries
Toast, with butter
Cole slaw
Small class of orange juice
Large Sprite

On this morning, I had

Two eggs, over easy, with ham
French fries, instead of home fries
Toast, with butter
Cole slaw
Small glass of orange juice
Large Sprite
Massive Eye Contact w/SHBBreakfast

My check was still the same $3.63 or whatever, so the eye contact with SHBBreakfast
(9.7) was included! I was sitting, just minding my business as I always do, in the middle
of the counter, while she was seated all the way at the end. We were making eye contact
repeatedly, breaking and reestablishing it several times, and smiling at each other the last
time. I took that as an invitation to approach her, so I joined her as we left, and headed
to school. Turns out she's in my drama class. Fitting!

We had a nice chat, and I saw her in class. We're gonna have lunch next week or maybe
see each other at breakfast again. Can't wait!

Ray



50

I dont believe in love at first sight, but I loved what I saw, the first time I saw it. This
was a young woman, in every sense of the word, more sophisticated than all subsequent targets,
save Kate, and she was not far off from her. I just wanted to be with her, since I just sprang to
life when she was around. I had never flirted like that before, and commended myself for taking
the plunge of approaching, correctly figuring the eye-contact and smiling were indicators of
interest (IOI). I figured this was as good a time as any to take the risk, so my approach anxiety
perished. Unlike the CABM, which invites repeated, brutal rejection, the VCABM had me
waiting for a perfect situation with a perfect target, the ideal approach for a recreational user of
pharmaceutical-grade women. Absent my miscalculation that we would remain schoolmates,
this was flawless. Based on what I know now, I believe our potential was limitless. We just
clicked.


Once I found this sparkler, my inner PUA reawakened, as I set out to find
someone.just like her. On the lifestyle front, I suffered my first truly tough beat at Belmont,
on the ninth-race trifecta, September 26, 1981, when I cut a $24.00 four-horse trifecta box at
Belmont to a $6.00, three-horse box, with the fourth horse nosing out my third horse for third,
costing me half of a $3,600.00+jackpot, on a ticket that was collecting sweat in my back pocket!
I did learn to take better care of my tickets. The $1,800.00+payoff would have done wonders
for my lifestyle game, thats for sure.

Report-0.5-Sexy-Canary-In-The-Coal-Mine-(Full-Text)



51
Field Report Zero Point Six:
The Microscope

I had presumed the target-class was ignoring me while I was in isolation, ignoring it.
As the judge in the Hurricane Carter case would have said, I presumed wrong:

Newsgroups: alt.seduction.fast
Date: November 1981
From: Ray (Age 14)
Subject: FR: IOI FromHBCentralPark
Now Playing: Never Too Much, by Luther Vandross
IN THE NEWS: Koch Cruises To Reelection Landslide
TARGET CARD: Queen of Spades

I'll never figure out girls!!

HBCentralPark (8.6) was in my homeroomat the public school, and never said one
fucking word to me Three weeks after I leave the school, she comes up behind me as
I'mturning onto Fifth to walk to the entrance of the park. We start talking, and she tells
me the class was amazed to see me just walk out of there, but she admired me for doing
it, saying she was thinking of doing the same thing herself. I'mlike cool but I hope she
finds a new school. She asks me where I'mgoing, and I tell her my Momis working on
it. We part company, but nothing happens. Don't #close her or anything, so I won't be
staying in touch. Not like I have to, it seems. They always find me when they want to.

Ray


Once was all I needed to experience being probed this way, to realize the value of
indirect game, secure in the knowledge that I was being judged from afar. This would prove to
be one of the most valuable bootcamp lessons of the entire VCABM.

After Further Review

Due to the value of what I learned, I would not change a thing. Also, on the day I
dropped out of the public junior high, after barely missing Stuyvesant (apparently, being left
back doesnt disqualify one from taking the New York City magnet-school exam!), and with no
reason to stay, I went home, Mom said lets go to OTB, and we each won $370.00+. We
followed that up with a trip to the Meadowlands the next night, and another $200.00+win, once
again masking our fading income. About the only seduction advice I would come across was
from Andrew Beyer, not to choose a dinner date over a 50-1 shot, and how targets tend to
respond better when hes on a winning streak, due to his increased confidence (and, probably,
cash). Discuss this chapter on our forum: http://tinyurl.com/bos-f4-0pt6


52
Field Report Zero Point Seven:
Phantom Girlfriend II

Run for your lives!:

DATE: December 1981
FROM: Ray (Age 14)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Got A "Girlfriend!"
NOW PLAYING: Who's Crying Now, by J ourney
IN THE NEWS: Middle East Tensions High In Sadat Wake
TARGET CARD: Queen Of Clubs

Looks like the dry spell is ending: spent the afternoon with NHBPizza (7.2), a cute girl,
but not that hot. Very nice, but passive. J ust tagged along wherever I went after we met
over a video game at the pizza shop. Pretty basic pickup, nothing special, got her #,
didn't kiss her goodbye because I'mnot sure if I want her, but she seems into me.

Called her and talked for an hour on the phone. We'll be spending a lot of time together
it seems.

Ray


We dated, but I never escalated, and she didnt seem to mind my restraint. We
remained in contact until other targets began going live. She was useful target-practice, since I
had all the benefits of an LTR, without having to seduce her, something I still didnt really know
how to do.


This was a neutral outcome, but one which may have delayed my breakthrough, due to
complacency.

Report-0.7-Phantom-Girlfriend-II-(Full-Text)


53
Field Report Zero Point Eight:
Carrot Juice, Celebrity, And Cluelessness

I'm not much for "freeform titles," but the above fits:

DATE: December 1981
FROM: Ray (Age 14)
SUBJ ECT: FU+: HBCarrot Gets Cheeky; PUACousin Is At My School
NOW PLAYING: Our Lips Are Sealed, by The Go-Gos
IN THE NEWS: Todd, J ets Primed For Wildcard Game vs. Bills

I learned two new things at school today!

1. HBDianeLane (8.3) goes to my school!

2. PUACousin goes to my school!

Actually, I learned three:

3. PUACousin is FUCKING HBDianeLane!! This time he OUTDID
HIMSELF! A starlet!!

She's like this famous actress but I never heard of her. She was also sandwiched by a
pair of cousins, both SHBFuturePornStars (both 9.9s), that PUACousin was encouraging
me to hit on, so I didn't even find her that hot. She's pretty, very elegant-looking, and
classy, but what the FUCK is she doing with a partier like my cousin?

School's pretty lively otherwise. Less than a hundred kids, but at least two dozen HBs
and SHBs (combined). Very target-rich environment. Had a "date" after school with
HBCarrot (8.9), we go out for carrot juice near my apartment, then she gives me the
cheek and says "no kissing in this relationship" at her door. COLD!

Get this: I'min tenth grade now!!! When I transferred, Momtold the principal I was
repeating ninth grade, so he should put me there. He says no, he can skip me to tenth
grade, and if I carry a 75 average, I automatically get credit for ninth grade. I was SO
psyched because this means I'll graduate on time!! Classes are "optional." Coolest
fucking school on the planet.

This is gonna be fun!!

Ray



54

SHBCarrot and HBCarrot taught me not to take targets at face value, even when they
seem interested. These were sophisticated young women, but SHBBreakfast left them in the
dust, so I wasnt terribly impressed. Getting skipped after a second bite at the Stuyvesant apple
was a nice touch.


In a risk-free VCABM, I would not have bothered, even though this technically scores
as a date. I thought to myself dates have goodbye kisses, so this didnt qualify. I went for the
kiss just to see if she was all talk or not, which led to an efficient resolution that allowed me to
move on.

Oh yeah: PUACousin had begun fucking Diane Lane, which lowered my opinion of
her taste in men, due to her association with him. Consequently, I spoke to Diane maybe three
times, including a few holiday dinners, where she turned up at my table, as the +1 the family
had been reserving for his target du jour for years. Had I been a better social-climber, the
networking potential was excellent, but upper-east-siders are terrible snobs, to the point where
even celebrities dont carry much clout, particularly due to their tendency to expect preferential
treatment in a city where the natives have little to spare. Mom thought very highly of Diane, and
was shocked that PUACousin had taken a girlfriend at all, let alone her. Her career was tanking
a bit while she was in school, so her fame became a bit of a running gag. We also had several
current and former soap kiddies, and a few models. It was by far the coolest school in
Manhattan, as one might expect from a place where even Diane Lane didnt really stand out, for
the few times she was there.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7076-BOS-Field-Report-0.8-
Carrot-Juice-Celebrity-And-Cluelessness-(Full-Text)


55
Field Report Zero Point Nine:
The Soulmate Next Door

Every young male seems to have one. Mine happened to live on the upper east side:

DATE: 02 Jan 82 15:57:21 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR: NHBStore Warms Up My Day
NOW PLAYING: Trouble, by Lindsay Buckingham
IN THE NEWS: Bengals, Chargers Battle For AFC Supremacy
TARGET CARD: Queen of Hearts

Went to the store on the way back fromthe OTB today, and met this really nice chick,
NHBStore (7.8). Shes 15, not stuck up like the rich bitches around here, and was
flirting with me for like twenty minutes before I went home. She said shes around a lot
and wed probably meet again sometime. Maybe she did that so I wouldnt ask for her
number, but she did talk to me.

Shes not traditionally sexy, but she acts so sexy you cant help but remember her. She
obviously knows what guys want, and knows how to display it, but shes only fifteen so
who knows how serious that is. Shell be a cool friend if nothing else. Wish she was
more into money, but she's too real for that. If she were hotter, she'd be real trouble.

Ray


Meet the First Ace: my one true lust, a/k/a the OTL.



56

I had failed to notice the breakthrough which had resulted in live targets beginning to
rain down. Knowing what I know now, I would have asked her out here, since this was
probably my one and only true shot, before her impending quantum leap was, as they say,
baked into the number.

Report-0.9-The-Soulmate-Next-Door-(Full-Text)


57
Field Report Zero Point Ten:
My First Successful Gimmick

Risk-free game strikes again, quite unexpectedly:

DATE: 08 Jan 1982 23:47:03 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Street Pickup w/Staircase Makeout
NOW PLAYING: Cool Night, by Paul Davis
IN THE NEWS: Niners, Cowboys, Battle For NFC Supremacy
TARGET CARD: Ten Of Hearts

Now THIS was fucking COOL!! I'mgetting GOOD at this!

Won over $800.00 yesterday on a trifecta at Aqueduct (mom also won $800.00), so I'm
ROLLING in cash, but I spent $300.00 on a BANGIN' pair of skates, so I stuffed a few
twenties into my pocket, went out ROLLING VIP last night, at my favorite pickup joint,
the streets of Manhattan on a Friday night, with all the tri-state visitors and natives out
for fun. I found mine on a quiet part of Second Avenue, of all places.

Was skating past 69th street when I saw NHBSkates (7.4) walking by herself. I roll up
to her and start talking, and she's pretty cute, and in shape. She's bundled up so it's hard
to really tell, but the truth wasn't really hidden. I was minimally covered since I was
skating, with just my leather jacket to handle the wind. We talk and she tells me she's
going to 34th Street, and I wind up waiting with her at the bus stop. She takes my #and
says she'll call next time she's in the city (she's visiting a friend). I say cool and head
downtown once she's on her bus.

These new skates are ferocious! I couldn't believe how fast they are! I get to 59th street
and the bus is already eating my dust. By the time I get to 34th, the bus is waaaay back
at 43rd, so I get an idea. I take off my skates, throw themin my bag, and toss on my
sneakers. Then I stand there looking cool as her bus arrives, and her jaw drops when she
sees me:

HER: What'd you do, hail a cab?

ME: Yeah. I'd be at 42nd if I'd done that. Want to race back uptown?

HER: Stop! How did you learn to skate so fast?

ME: I do messenger work on these, and they're my primary mode of
transportation.

HER: That's impressive. Do you wanna go have a drink?



58
ME: Sure.

HER: Let's go.

We head to this bar near Second, doesn't even have a name other than Wine & Spirits.
She knew I was underage (I told her I was 17), and I learned she was twenty-two! OMG
that's like seven years older! The thought of that did turn me on. I felt like a real man
now, but I still didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I figured I might as well fake it
the best I could.

We talk, she drinks a few glasses of wine, then says she wants to get home to get to
sleep. I offer to walk her back since it's late and East 34th is deserted at night (near
Hookerville), and she's fine with that. Major kino
5
ensues, and it's obvious things are
gonna heat up once we're inside, and they do. We begin making out in the elevator.

I get to her door, and she invites me in, but says her roommate is sleeping so it might be
difficult. I move us to the stairwell, in case someone else comes out of the elevator, and
we sit there, talking and making out some more. I can pretty much do whatever I want
at this point, but I stop things, maybe because of the roommate, or maybe because I did
not want to lose my virginity to an NHB I met on the street.

I think it's the latter.

Ray.


Only one conclusion could be drawn:

Chicks dig skaters!!

Do they ever! My use of gimmicks was born. I just didnt want to lose my virginity
to an NHB, particularly one I picked up on the street. Still, from here on out, my virginity
would no longer be involuntary, for another key coming-of-age moment.


Why change anything that led to The Battle of Kate? Darwinists will appreciate the
use of physicality of this conquest, a theme which would recur, usually positively, with other
targets. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7085-Bettor-Off-Single-Field-Report-
0.10-My-First-Successful-Gimmick-(Full-Text)

5
Kino is the popular termfor touching, or physical contact in general.


59
Field Report Zero Point Eleven:
My First MLTR

This was the exception to my rule about never cheating:

DATE: 20 Jan 1982 09:48:03 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: I Think I Have A Girlfriend
NOW PLAYING: Heat Of The Moment, by Asia
IN THE NEWS: Giants Ponder Coaching Change After Loss

Its fucking cold up here, but I never felt warmer even when stuck outside up at 207
th

Street, near Riverdale. How I got there is the subject of this report. My game is
improving! This one just happened but I helped to make it happen. I actually had
some control over this one!

Walked out of school to the elevator, and SHBLunch (9.2) was along for the ride, a
pretty common occurrence at our school. We had not talked in the few months I was
there, as we were almost never there on the same day, but we introduced ourselves and
chatted outside the school. It was freezing (like just above zero), so she said she was
going to walk to the A train at Columbus Circle (59
th
and 8
th
). I said okay, and that Id
take the train with her, catching the crosstown bus home. She said fine, and probably
wondered why I was living in East Harlem, since the A trains next stop was 125
th
street.
Not that I gave a shit, because this gave us time to talk, and that went really well, so I
told her Id just ride up with her to 207
th
, then back down to 81
st
or 86
th
on the C train to
get the M-17
6
or M-18
7
home.

We get to 207
th
, and are about to say our goodbyes, when I offer to take her to lunch, and
she accepts, like something straight out of Happy Days. I was really getting into her,
and she didnt seem to mind a bit. We warmed up in the coffee shop,
8
lingered over a
long, cheap lunch (burgers and fries), and then left to go outside, with a prolonged
goodbye that I ended by kissing her square on the lips in a decidedly nonplatonic way.
No tongue, but as close as I could get. We smiled, kept eye contact for a few more
seconds, and I went back to the A-train, chapped lips and all, not giving a shit about the
hockey weather.

Totally awesome day.

Ray

6
Now the M-79, or 79
th
Street crosstown.
7
The 86
th
Street crosstown, now the M-86.
8
The New York termfor what the rest of the nation calls a diner, like that "Restaurant" on Seinfeld.


60

Fromopening her in the elevator, to venue-changing to the A-train, then again at 207
th
Street,
to the coffeeshop (Manhattanspeak for diner), and, finally, to the kiss close(*close) at the end of what
turned into a traditional date, the first of what would turn out to be many, for the ultimate teen dating
bootcamp, with tuition equal to the cost of the dates ($20.00-50.00 each), and a much, much hotter
instructor, who doubled as a pivot, and kissed me goodbye each time! All in all, a lifestyle bargain, and a
really, really cool chick who had taken an inexplicable liking to me.


We would ultimately last two years, without a hint of drama, let alone an argument,
ending only upon her graduation. This was not shocking, since I had been attracting several
targets, but it was still a pleasant surprise, and very romantic.

Report-0.11-My-First-MLTR-(Full-Text)


61
Field Report Zero Point Twelve:
Expanding My Horizons

For most, this would mean a trip to Manhattan. For me, it meant the opposite:

DATE: 27 Feb 1982 18:12:10 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Blind Date w/UGMall (met NHBMall)
NOW PLAYING: Who's Crying Now, by J ourney
IN THE NEWS: Dallas, Dynasty vie for nighttime TV Supremacy
TARGET CARD: Ten of Clubs

Chicks LOVE J ourney!!! New J ersey ones do anyway.

Local AM DJ is playing matchmaker on his request lines and the next thing I know I'm
talking to two chicks fromJ ersey: NHBMall (7.0) and UGMall (5.9). (I don't know
what they look like until we meet). I figured they might be hot since girls who call the
radio stations often are, and I'd never spent a Saturday afternoon at the mall, so I hopped
on a bus from178th out to Lodi, after a few weeks of talking to UGMall on the phone.
She said she was bringing NHBMall, which was cool. UGMall has a boyfriend anyway,
so maybe she was trying to hook us up.

We spend a few hours at the Paramus Mall roller rink, and I rollerdance a little with
NHBMall, then we go to lunch. It's really cool, lots of kids all around, nothing like
anything in Manhattan. It was so....so Brady Bunch! I felt like such a normal kid rather
than an upper-east-sider. She was definitely into me, and the #close was no problem,
since I already knew UGMall.

After some video games and window-shopping, I go back to Lodi with UGMall, say
goodbye to NHBMall, then net a goodbye kiss fromUGMall, which wasn't bad but
nothing like SHBSchool or SHBLunch, or even NHBSkates.

This should make our phone conversations more interesting, especially since I have
three-way calling and hacked long-distance codes.

Man, this was like phone dating. Weird. Don't think it'll ever catch on, agreeing to date
people you never met. Crazy shit. Glad I took the chance.

Ray


My worst fears were not realized, and I wound up with an excellent date (NHBMall),
even if UGMall was technically my companion. NHBMall and I hit it off so well that the date
exchange was made early, and everyone was fine with that. Since NHBMall had a boyfriend,


62
this may have been premeditated, since UGMall seemed into her boyfriend as well (why else
would he not have been angry?). I did kiss UGMall goodbye, but that was just SHBLunchs
dating bootcamp kicking in. The #close was much more significant, as it sparked a rather intense
phone "friendship" thereafter.


Just showing up with a date at a suburban mall on a Saturday afternoon is a huge
DHV, since so many of my rivals were alone. NHBMall was an excellent date, very interesting,
and obviously attracted to me, as was made clear by her emotional intensity. She may have
considered me unattainable, due to my Manhattan lifestyle, but my short-term interest was
obvious. I never mentioned NHBMall or my primary to each other, which I suppose made me
a bit of a "player, but SHBLunch had left me a free agent.

My "game" at this time was run pretty much as follows:

1. Find targets I liked;
2. Talk to them;
3. Ask for their number;
4. Call them;
5. Ask them out; and
6. At the end of the date, go for the goodbye kiss.

Not exactly rocket-science, but it was working. Men who have difficulty just talking
to a target need practice, and that risks rejection. Unlike my peers, save for PUACousin and
PhysicsDude, I was at least doing something. The remainder of the loser posses to which I
belonged had yet to find the starting block, let alone their stride. The two Big Lies we tell young
men are that money and sex are somehow, magically, going to take care of themselves, thanks to
fate, because, the theory goes, good things happen to good people, and the best man wins.

Report-0.12-Expanding-My-Horizons-(Full-Text)


63
Field Report Zero Point Thirteen:
Neither Rain, Nor Sleet, Nor Snow.

Privilege and "lifestyle" had nothing to do with this one. It pays to be young, athletic,
persistent, and opportunistic:

DATE: 10 Apr 1982 16:27:14 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Neither Rain Nor Sleet Nor Snow...
NOW PLAYING: Don't Stop Believin', by J ourney
IN THE NEWS: Surprise SnowstormBlankets NYC

Had a great "date" with NHBMall today. It pays to be brave!!

Today's weather was terrible: ice, rain, snow all over. Roads impassable all morning,
lightening up a bit as noon approached. I called NHBMall because I didn't feel like
going out, and she said she was trapped in her home because her car was blocked by ice,
and the roads were too rough. I tell her it sounds like she has a day to kill, and ask to
come over. She asks if I'mnuts (so what if I am, I say, I'll come over anyway), and I
wind up heading out about 11:00 a.m. or so to Port Authority for the bus to her. I go out
and the streets are cleared but still messy.

Get off the bus in Lodi, and walk like a half-mile to her house, on some back road that
isn't clear, so she's stuck at home, but so is her family, who I finally met. We go to her
bedroom, she shuts the door, and we spend the afternoon together, until she has dinner.
She invites me to stay but I said I wanted to get home while the roads were okay, which
was true. What happened? Well, I'mstill a virgin. I'll leave it at that. -- Ray


Like I said earlier, physicality pays off. Men who have the advantage of youth should
be milking it whenever possible, since no amount of money can offset it.


The outcome is not given (other than my virginity remaining intact), to reflect the
ambiguity of the situation, and how its rude to kiss and tell, or lie if one did not. Whether or not
I did, or to what extent, the reader will have to guess, as he should, just as he should if we all
knew each other. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
0.13-Neither-Rain-Nor-Sleet-Nor-Snow-(Full-Text)


64
Field Report Zero Point Fourteen:
No Sex And The City

My Sex And The City moment:

DATE: 08 May 1982 13:11:57 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Ten-Minute Flirtation With NHBArcade
NOW PLAYING: Pac-Man Fever, by Buckman & Garcia
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Soars As Recession Takes Hold

Went to the ballgame today with the stickball posse. We hang out again because we all
go to the games a lot. Got home around 4:30 and we headed over to the arcade for some
video games. As we're leaving, NHBArcade (7.6) calls out my name, so she obviously
knows me. I look at her and she looks familiar, but I still don't remember her. I keep
looking and then it hits me:

ME: Cynthia?

NHBArcade: Yes! How are you!? Long time no see!

ME: Yeah, like what, five years?

We chat for ten minutes, flirting all over the place, and our friends start getting us dirty
looks, so we know it's time to go. They practically dragged us apart fromeach other.
Fucking AMOGed by my own wings!! I need a new wingman, man. Turns out she's
some sorta actress on Broadway. I read a long article about her in the Times a year ago,
but I think it was about her academics. She was always the teacher's pet, and she's
gonna go far in whatever she does. Really, really, really far. Ray


Gaming celebrities is much easier when they open you! Its also easier when the
typical neighborhood target ranks one or two full looks points higher, but Cynthias mind was
really sexy to my inner geek. I came within a hair of asking for the number she came within a
hair of offering.


After years of futility in finding a man who measured up to me, Cynthia became a
lesbian. The Ray Effect had claimed yet another victim. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
0.14-No-Sex-And-The-City-(Full-text)


65
Field Report Zero Point Fifteen:
It Doesnt Get Any Better Than This

Perfection is easier to achieve early in life, when one's standards are lower. This is
taken from my IMDB review of Poltergeist:

DATE: 04 J un 1982 15:15:38 GMT (via time travel)
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: My Favorite FilmExperience
NOW PLAYING: Don't You Want Me, by The Human League
IN THE NEWS: Backlund Retains WWF Title

I noticed that IMDB lists the release dates for films, and laughed here because I could
never forget Friday, J une 4, 1982, my last day in tenth grade, and about my tenth date
with the exceptionally pretty and wonderful young lady I dated throughout most of high
school. The weather was perfect, and I took my ladyfriend out for a nice lunch and a
walk down Broadway in search of a movie. ET had been the hyped Spielberg filmof
that summer, but this one was already out, and the thought of a horrified hottie clinging
to me for dear life (or vice versa) was irresistible. Poltergeist it was.

Like all Spielberg films, one will not find many weaknesses. The plot will be engaging,
the visuals stunning, the acting excellent, and the overall experience first-class. This film
did not disappoint.

The retrospectively amusing casting of Craig T. Nelson in the lead. Notable supporting
cast include the late Dominique Dunne and the late Healthier O'Rourke, both of whom
would die tragically in 1988 and 1982, respectively, the earlier by domestic violence and
the latter by illness. The loss to Hollywood is still felt to this day as each would likely
have Oscars by now. The cast of competent, moderately known talents provided a strong
yet muted substance to the special-effects stylings for which Spielberg became so
famous.

As I settled in with my date to watch the film, I was equally enthralled both by her touch
and the screen. Fromthe moment O'Rourke uttered the to-this-day-chilling "They're
here!!," through the amusing plot twist that explains the haunting (a certain home
developer forgot to do something with the gravesite that had previously existed on the
land and apparently ticked off some spirits), though the death, destruction, and absolute
terror experienced by the hapless protagonist family.

I will never again be fifteen, never again experience the deep cuts to the heart that come
with teenage desire, never again wonder if maybe those horror movies could happen in
real life, never again will experience the thrill of not having school or any other
responsibilities for the next three months, and will never again be as vital or physically
capable as I was so effortlessly back then, but to have had that even once, all at the same


66
time, in the greatest city in the world, was absolutely awesome. Whatever might have
been wrong with my life at that age simply did not exist in that theater, during that film,
with that date. Anything less than a perfect filmwould have spoiled what was literally a
perfect day. It didn't

Ray


I felt like such a teenager on this day. A very, very happy one. I remember thinking
it doesnt get any better than this. Because it doesnt. Without realizing it, my dating skillz
were blasting through the roof, at a very early age.


It really doesnt get any better than this. The best part was that I knew, at the time,
just how special the day was, a rare snapshot of perfection, one which females appreciate a great
deal more than males. If you want great sex, try being a great date. I didnt get laid here, but the
virginal arousal was much stronger, and the lessons from this date would aid so many future
conquests, I should have paid this target a royalty.

Report-0.15-It-Doesn-t-Get-Any-Better-Than-This-(Full-Text)



67
Field Report Zero Point Sixteen:
Twenty-One Hired-Gun Salute

This was not the success it appears:

DATE: 25 J un 1982 15:15:38 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Dinner Date w/SHBChipwich!
NOW PLAYING: Eye of the Tiger, by Survivor
IN THE NEWS: E.T. On Pace To Record Box Office

Was skating downtown today when I see a this really hot Chipwich
9
vendor,
SHBChipwich (9.2) standing at her cart, all bored, around 3:00 p.m. I've been running
street vendor game on some SHBVendors, mostly to practice talking to SHBs, but this
one was just hot...and friendly! I go up to her cart, order a Chipwich, and begin flirting
with her almost instantly. She's really receptive; it was like we already knew each other.
That type of connection.

I know she's gonna be bored until 5:45 p.m., when the carts close up shop for the day
(right after the pmrush dies down), so I tell her I have to run an errand but will be back.
I run off to OTB to catch a few races (lost $20.00, fuck), and skate back to her cart a
little after 5:00 p.m., and we start chatting. That goes really well, so I ask her if she'd
like to grab a bite with me after they come to get her cart (by truck), and she says sure.
This is where dating SHBLunch came in really handy, because I knew exactly what to
do.

We roll out of her vending spot to the subway stop, but then I tell her I'd rather grab a
cab, and she doesn't object. Skates in a cab is a little weird, but it beats socks on the
subway. I don't have my sneakers with me this time so I pick a place where I know that
won't matter. Take her to an outdoor spot at the Seaport, and we have a nice dinner over
the pier. I roll back with her to the subway and give her a nice goodbye kiss. We made
plans for next week, when I'll be down to have lunch with Boards. He's gonna LOVE
her. Hmmmaybe I shouldn't invite him.

Ray

p.s. -- SHBChipwich is SHBLunch (psych!)

9
Chipwich =popular ice-cream/cookie sandwich sold by Manhattan street vendors in the late 1970s and early 1980s.


68

This "solved" my dateless summer, but left me complacent, and delayed my PUA
evolution, even if it strengthened the dating bootcamp. This was, however, a reflection of the
typical male teenagers limited options, since I still wasnt getting laid, even if I was gaining
valuable maturity. That I was doing this poorly with all I had going for me is an excellent
endorsement for the reluctant VCABM, where one just extracts seduction knowledge from their
soulmate-targets, rather than falling into the oneitis trap.


Tough call on whether Id change this one. My ferality says I would have, or just not
taken her on any dates until school resumed, but there was no reason not to. I did wind up with a
nice vendor gig for the summer, selling ice cream, and would return the following summer,
before moving on to other work.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7117-Bettor-Off-SIngle-Field-
Report-0.16-Twenty-One-Hired-Gun-Salute-(Full-Text)


69
Lesson Seven:
The Three Levels Of Seduction

Seduction is not always a board game:

HIM: "A3..."

HER: "Hit."

HIM: "C1...."

HER: "Miss."

HIM: "B3...."

HER: "You sank my battleship!"

Multipart seduction models can be useful: the card-CAT is one such paradigm. When
it comes to the "stages" of seduction, however, I prefer to keep it simple:

Level I (L-I) Superficial

Level II (L-II) Spiritual

Level III (L-III) Sexual

L-I and L-II strongly overlap, since the goal of either is to get to L-III. The target-
class's goal is usually L-II, preferably achieved by avoiding L-III altogether. What we call
sexual tension is created by the sex-addicted male attempting escalation to L-III, often via L-II,
and her knowing full well that L-III is the "express lane" to her L-II destination. L-II is not an
express lane to L-III for men, only if they withdraw it unexpectedly, but is more like a "carpool
lane" otherwise. The imbalance is a reflection of our societal gender-bias, whereby the target-
class need not apologize for its "L-II desires," while we are vilified for even thinking about L-
III, unless the target wants us to. The wife who calls her husband a porn addict does not want
him cured, but instead just wants a monopoly on his women supply.

Throughout this text, the terms L-I, L-II, and L-III will be multipurposed, describing
everything from the "level" of a relationship, to the "PUA" or target themselves (i.e., "L-III
PUA" or "L-I target), as well as venue ("L-I venue" etc.), or anything else relevant to one's
"game." L-II is where most game takes place, particularly for "AFCs," who often misconstrue
L-II progress for L-III potential, much the way targets do the reverse, when it uses L-III (sex) to
try for L-II (a relationship). Many "AFCs" are L-II sluts, not realizing how this destroys their L-
III chances, unless they use the L-II as leverage by withdrawing it. The VCABM takes the


70
opposite approach, placing the development of L-II skillz above getting laid, which is why I
didnt mind settling for goodbye kisses from SHBLunch, plus her pivot value alone is $50.00-
100.00 an hour, on today's open market, plus those are target-simulators, not the real thing.

L-I Game

Level I "game," or L-I game, refers to that which is run on targets not yet "opened,"
after which you can go to L-II, L-III, or get "blown out." It emphasizes the superficial: looks,
displayed or implied wealth, status (both general and within the L-I venue), and body-language.
It determines your odds of successfully opening, or of being opened. Strong L-I game sets the
table for developing your L-II and L-III skillz, since you need to get past L-I first, either directly,
or via the friend zone. The proximity to world-class targets, at an age when many men are still
awaiting their first kiss, will sharpen any PUAs L-I game. Just being in Manhattan was
extremely Kate-positive, even if I didnt consider myself sophisticated.

Manhattan is an L-I venue unto itself, a place where super-elites from all over the
world migrate. As an "AFC," this was useless to me, except for bootcamp value. PUACousin
made it his business to exploit his Manhattan upbringing, making a point of developing an SHB-
positive lifestyle, long before the age of even my first kiss.. His off-the-charts L-I game
(musician, skateboarder, starlet-fucker, rockstar lifestyle) gave him similar head starts in L-II
and L-III. A book about his exploits would dwarf mine, but achieving his results would require a
superhuman effort, beyond that which even I recommend, or practice. I was thankful Diane had
tamed my primary rival and AMOG, leaving the remainder of my target-rich teenage daytime
venue (i.e., school) for us mere mortals. My L-I game has abandoned me, but in my youth, the
target-rich L-I venues favored me strongly. One can run Emo game or lifestyle game in L-I (the
difference lies in the use of money and status), and most will run a combination of the two,
usually with a slight tilt to the Emo side, to cut costs, and to avoid golddiggers. As the
"community" is infested with "lifestyle gurus" who have analyzed just about every aspect of L-I
game, its coverage here will be limited. To the extent the reader wants to run this "game"
himself, one rule predominates: it's not what you do, it's who you are.

Working on making the who as desirable as possible is all the L-I game you'll ever
need. The ultimate example is the young, tall, good-looking, independently-wealthy playboy,
who could get pharmaceutical-grade women with looks or money alone, yet who has both. My
privilege was not so extreme, but it converted into extremely valuable knowledge. Fair or not, a
pimply-faced, short, socially-awkward, underprivileged, small-town geek is not going to get my
head start, while my bridge-and-tunnel peers had already crashed and burned with Kate, mostly
due to the absence of a Manhattan upbringing. Two solid years in a prep school (the third
doesnt count) certainly didn't hurt, either.

Like athletes, L-I PUAs deteriorate with age. Sooner or later, money will become the
primary means of bypassing L-I, and hell begin to understand why older men rune lifestyle
game. Younger readers will take their L-I strength for granted, since they have never lived


71
without it. This was certainly the case for me, particularly as I become truly aware, later in life,
once my L-I game evaporated. I had always sensed my privilege when it came to school or
work, but had never really acknowledged its role in seduction, particularly the jump it gave me
with super-elites. By just circulating when you are strong in L-I, success should occur naturally,
which is why I recommend saving the stupid PUA tricks for after your VCABM terminates.
Patience is also essential: for all my "success" in early 1982, I had managed only three truly live
targets all year, not what one would expect from a "PUA," yet the results were strong on all three
levels, with L-I and L-III covered by NHBSkates, and L-I and L-II by NHBMall and SHBLunch.

Her L-III: The Extended Level II (EL-II)

Men and the target-class are different when it comes to sex, and sexual enjoyment.
The best way I can sum it up is, as this:

Women enjoy sex the way men enjoy kissing.

As this text was going to nonprint, I came up with an alternative, multipart theory:

Women enjoy sex with high-value men the way men enjoy sex with
pharmaceutical-grade women. They also enjoy dishing out sex as a reward.

The typical "AFC" lives a life of extreme sexual frustration, often stuck in the friend
zone with super-elites, yet never escalating to L-III. He is actually succeeding, since an EL-II
with a super-elite, a prerequisite to fucking a super-elite. One's L-II game is generally equivalent
to one's ability to sustain an EL-II, that most difficult combination of emotional intimacy and
sexual tension, like that with SHBLunch, which, at times, would come close to driving me
insane, but also which, with time, would teach me to control my sex-addiction, to the point
where I could actually enjoy our dates, knowing that only the very end would yield what little L-
III escalation would occur. This "failure" to lay my MLTR was yielding the "success" of
sharpening my dating skillz, something every PUA needs, if only to let his target know he
could be a good date, if she deserved it, like by fucking him.

SHBLunch took over PG-2's role as my EL-II, with strong pivot value, due to my faint
chance of L-III escalation. This allowed me to mature efficiently, since I didn't have to waste
time hunting. Without SHBLunch, my results would have been spotty, and involved mostly
NHBMall-types. Instead of taking the "PUA" view that my MLTR was proving my limitations,
what she was really doing was expanding them, via the dating bootcamp, making me into a date
who could be counted on to show a good time, keep my target safe, and deliver them home on
time, all a half-year before my sixteenth birthday. From what I can surmise, few young males
bother learning this.

The EL-II goes beyond mere dating, and usually will not include kissing. With a
super-elite, she will often have multiple EL-IIs, what I call her AFC bodycount, or what the


72
"community" calls orbiters, "AFCs" who hover, looking for a way to L-III. My term more
accurately reflects the carnage, with each AFC strung along like a carnival sucker. Letting
your sex-addiction preclude the extremely valuable EL-IIs necessary to complete the VCABM
will hinder your long-term progress. The lack of L-III was not an issue with SHBLunch, due to
her bootcamp value, but that would change as the training-wheels came off.

Since L-II is her L-III, an EL-II is never a complete failure, since you are giving your
target what she wants. Super-elites cherish the EL-II, because almost every guy she has one with
will ultimately attempt L-III escalation, and, according to her, ruin the friendship. This can be
maddening to the women-addicted male, who has been brainwashed to believe in friends first,
yet she will value the EL-II more than even sex, which she can find easily. "PUAs" use this as
the basis for avoiding the friend zone, but this leaves bootcamp and pivot value on the table. As
long as he avoids oneitis, an EL-II with a super-elite is the best thing that could ever happen to
him, and he might even marry his Kate. If not, theres always the one special hookup.

L-III Game

One reason almost all "AFCs," and most PUAs, never reach their true peak, is a
lack of L-III game. A decision to delay sex until the "right" time with the right woman not only
causes a soulmate oneitis to sideline them, as it did me for two years, but the AFC compounds
the error by neglecting other viable targets, like SHBLapdance. What he should do is test the
designated-soulmate, by operate as a free agent, while appearing content with the EL-II. That I
had gone straight from L-I to L-III with NHBSkates only reinforced my increasing notion that
friendship and sex weren't mixing very well. In reality, I just lacked the L-II skillz to sustain a
relationship, even if I had managed to get to L-III. Moreover, it was my EL-IIs that would
separate me from other PUAs, by making genuine boyfriend material out of me.

During most of my VCABM, L-III was an "undiscovered country," not to be visited
until a soulmate was designated, and fate would get me laid, which it didnt. For the target-
class, things just happen, because it is men who make it happen, usually to prevent the target
from having to act slutty. This is what made The Battle of Kate so difficult: it shouldnt have
come down to a single, fatally ambiguous isolation. Female readers should realize that the men
who care the most are least likely to act, for fear of offending. If Kate would indeed have been
offended by L-III escalation, that makes her a definite tease, something she never was at other
times, or with other men. Once your VCABM terminates, whether you marry your "Kate" or
wind up a "PUA4Life," L-III skillz become a matter of survival.

Most men even PUAs delusionally overestimate their L-III skillz," while
severely underestimating those of their rivals. Several factors contribute, most notably
confusion between L-II and L-III. Specifically, they mistake a good relationship, where their
partner wants them sexually satisfied, with sexually satisfying their partner. To men, sex is an
end in and of itself, but this is not the case for the target-class, who needs a reason (not just a
room) to fuck, one she will probably find in L-II, rather than L-III, as often happens with the


73
provider chump, who pays the bills, is a good father, and generally decent. His wife will want
him satisfied, and want him to think she is satisfied, but her own satisfaction (or disappointment)
will be rooted in L-II, not L-III. Put another way, to her:

If the relationship is good, the sex is good

Sex in a good relationship is not the same thing as good sex. It is when a man
stops having relationships that his L-III skillz become paramount, in a much different way than
in a marriage or LTR. Often, when a PUA has L-III game, he will get laid by targets who
want to experience his technique, for future deployment, as an L-III reward for L-II. Once I
went feral, and began accumulating L-III gimmicks, I became a much better lay than my
rivals, yet had fewer opportunities to prove it, because targets must first be satisfied in L-II.

Integration Of All Three Levels

The three levels are not always sequential, and will usually overlap, with each
relationship setting its own boundaries for each level. With a fuckbuddy (usually a desperate
attempt by the female to use L-III to get to L-II), the L-II boundary is strong, despite the
intimacy of L-III escalation. With courtship, the L-II is fully explored, prior to a decision to
take it to the next level. The AFC problem is that, to most targets, L-II is that next level.

Integration is an individual matter. A results-oriented PUA might integrate by
refusing an EL-II with any target he hasnt fucked (the risk-free approach), while a target-
oriented AFC will use the EL-II as his base of operations, even if hed rather tilt more heavily
towards L-III, but for his lack of skillz. Some PUAs get sick of the Crazy Eights, and begin
using EL-II to screen their partners, but this is usually only after years of success, and/or to break
a tie between equally hot targets. Other men exist almost exclusively in L-I. Until you are fully
developed in all three areas, integration is a secondary issue, or you wont know what youre
integrating. Over time, integration gets easier, particularly as your target-calibration improves,
allowing for better target-placement, i.e., knowing when to go for L-III, or an EL-II, or none of
the above. Eventually, EL-II will not be enough. Indeed:

Once youve isolated your super-elite soulmate at 2:30 a.m. on her initiative,
when she already knows you want to fuck her, the bootcamp is over.

What the VCABM also terminated, when it terminated, was the notion that L-III
would just happen. At The Battle of Kate, I had engineered perfect isolation with a perfect
target, yet fumbled at the last minute, even if Id have easily conquered SHBLapdance. Once
Kate resolved, true love was no longer in the equation, my soulmate-search had terminated,
and cue up the violins sex with pharmaceutical-grade women was all I had left to
reluctantly, I tell ya pursue. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7126-Bettor-Off-Single-Lesson-Seven-
The-Three-Levels-Of-Seduction-(Full-Text)


74
Field Report Zero Point Seventeen:
Be The Eye Candy!?

Men are not the only ones who aim high:

DATE: 29 J un 1982 15:15:38 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FU: Blind Lunch Date With UGRadio
NOW PLAYING: Hard To Say I'm Sorry, by Chicago
IN THE NEWS: Reaganomics Blamed For Recession
TARGET CARD: Five Of Clubs

Fucking wings! My "radio" intern wing, InternDude, the one that works for the fatass
gay pedophile disc jockey who invited me to the station (fucker never tried shit since I'm
twice as strong and ten times as fast as him, but I bet his intern had to do stuff). I
thought he was cool, but found out otherwise today, after the asshole set me up for a
lunchdate with UGRadio (4.7), twenty-one years old, twenty pounds overweight, bucked
teeth, and socially awkward (which would have been cute if she weren't so fugly).

Sit through a half-hour of torture at a midtown coffee shop.
10
Gentleman that I am, I pay
her way, and amrespectful, but I'mseething at InternDude for setting me up like a
bowling pin. I'mpraying I don't have to reject her too brutally, but it's obvious I will
have to let her down. The ugly ones are always DESPERATE! Maybe that's a good
thing, but anyone who thinks pretty and ugly women act alike is wrong: they may think
the same way, but they are reacting to completely different information fromthe world
around them. They're treated differently.

We make pleasant conversation, and I tell her not to misread InternDude's signals. To
pay himback for the favor, I told her that he tends to be shy around women he likes, and
not to mistake his distance for disinterest, because he hates that. Thankfully she did not
push for a goodbye kiss.

Tried not to crush her ego while still taking the date seriously. It's not a crime to be
ugly, but maybe it should be. The date sure FELT like a prison.

Ray


To borrow from my favorite quote from Broken Arrow:

10
In Manhattan, "coffee shop" used to mean "diner." Now that coffeehouses aer so popular, I do not know if they use a new
term.


75
I don't know what's scarier: dating someone this ugly, or knowing that one of
my dates might have felt the same way about my looks.

My skepticism over wingmen began with this ambush. Having to suffer a date like
this made me more empathetic to the targets, particularly the Diamonds, who would endure
similar torture, just for a free meal, or free evening out. I was a good date, thanks to my
"training" from SHBLunch, but definitely dialed down anything that would make me more
appealing to her, using the same platitudes, and plausibly-deniable evasions normally used
against me. Fortunately for men, most UGs will do little more than throw tantrum over being
ignored, once they realize guilt wont work. I was far, far more ticked at my "wing," who
should have known better, than my "date," who was just trying to do the best she could for
herself.


This date eliminated any sense of sexual entitlement I may have had. It didnt make
me immune to heartbreak, or even acting out when heartbroken, but it shifted the burden of
attraction squarely to me. Many men expect fate to deliver a super-elite, just because theyre
so fucking special. Worse yet, the target-class enables this, because fate delivers them any
guy they want, and no one asks the UGs how things work out for them. Even when things dont
work out, targets will tell us to be patient (which we should), but also to do nothing other than
trust fate, (which we definitely shouldnt). Many men have lost their youth to this lie.

Report-0.17-Be-The-Eye-Candy-(Full-Text)


76
Field Report Zero Point Eighteen:
A Perfect Date, If Only I Had One

One drawback to the VCABM is not having a large target-roster:

Date: 04 J ul 1982 23:15:38 GMT
From: Ray (Age 15)
Subject: FU: Perfect Evening And No One To Share It!
Now Playing: Who Can It Be Now?, by Men At Work
IN THE NEWS: Mob War Heats Up In Brasco Aftermath
TARGET CARD: None.

Had a great evening tonight: around 6:30 p.m., got this brilliant idea to head down to
Battery Park for the fireworks show. I get there a little early, so I decide to get on the
Staten Island Ferry, figuring I might get a better view, and I did: right in the middle of
the Harbor! The boat detoured just for the show, so we could watch it on the water. It
was like the Ferry was my personal yacht! After the show, I walk back up through
Chinatown and Little Italy, where there's festival after festival, tons of great food, a
dozen or so illegal fireworks shows that were beautiful to watch (probably dangerous),
then headed back home. It was a perfect evening for a spontaneous date with...um, NO
ONE! I need more game or someone who doesn't live up in Riverdale, Queens, or
J ersey to date on short notice. Ray


Event planning is a Kate-positive skill, as evidenced by the keg-party. Had Kate or
the OTL been in my life here (the OTL was, but we werent in contact), it would have made a
perfect escalation vehicle. If only I had put such planning into my dates, as I had for myself, I
might have taken the virginal out of my mission a bit sooner. I was even beginning to question
my restraint with NHBSkates.


The logical option would have been to invite a few male friends, if I couldnt find a
date, but mandating is the easy way out. If you really want to fuck super-elites, force yourself
into isolation when you fail, rather than just dialing up your loser posse. At least this way you
can be more productive, more Kate-positive, instead of cementing your ignorance with a group
of equally ignorant men.

Report-0.18-A-Perfect-Date-If-Only-I-Had-One-(Full-Text)


77
Field Report Zero Point Nineteen:
Last Date With NHBMall

Some things just run their course. This did:

DATE: 09 Aug 1982 15:36:27 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: NYCDate with NHBMall
NOW PLAYING: Don't Stop Believin', by J ourney
IN THE NEWS: Dow hits eight-year low.

NHBMall came to town today. Had only $35.00 for the damn date -- broke!! -- and was
like fuck it, but went up to Yonkers on Saturday to see if I could make something
happen, and would just cancel if I tapped out. Turned the $35.00 into the $100.00 I
needed to do this right, which was cool.

Meet her at Port Authority on Monday. We walk around midtown, I spring for a horse-
drawn carriage ride (not w/SHBHorse), then dinner at Mamma Leone's (shitty place,
should have known), then see her on her way. Absolutely nothing there. She was nice,
dressed nice, maybe would have done something if I had made a move, but I didn't see
anything worth the risk. This one's history. Sweet girl really, just nothing left to do.

Ray


Nothing learned here, except that I had better uses for $100.00. Showing her a
"Manhattan date" did return the mall-date favor. Whatever it was we had was conflict-free from
start to finish. My guess is she was hanging around to see if I'd ever get really serious about her.
No chance.


I've enjoyed the fact that I had this date, more than the date itself. We could have
worked well for a few years, but the super-elites would have trampled her.

Report-0.19-My-Last-Date-With-NHBMall-(Full-Text)


78
Field Report Zero Point Twenty:
Stealing A Kiss From An SHB

Some "gurus" say it is that which pushes one's boundaries that defines him as the
"PUA." Consider my boundaries forever pushed, if not outright blasted across the room:

DATE: 19 Aug 1982 15:36:27 GMT
From: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Stealing A Kiss FromSHBVendor
NOW PLAYING: Somebodys Baby, by Jackson Brown

Had a leftover target frommy vending job: SHBVendor (9.4), this smoking brunette
fromBrooklyn. It's the end of the summer, and I got nothing to lose, so I figure wtf, I'm
gonna go for this one.

Since us vendors have to display our vending licenses, it was easy enough to get her
name, which was uncommon. I was able to look up her phone number, so I bought a 3-
digit and 4-digit lottery ticket that spelled out her number. Then I roll up to her cart a
little before 5:00, when I knew it'd be dead:

ME: Hey!

SHBVendor: Hi. (Lukewarm)

ME: Bought you a pair of lottery tickets. Keep the money if you win.

SHBVendor: Thanks! (she's puzzled)

ME: Busy day? (Waiting for her to check the tickets).

SHBVendor: Always! <pause> OMG!! That's my number!!

ME: Then it's a lucky one. Here's some more good luck. <kiss>

I just plant a kiss on her, hold it for a few seconds, pull away smoothly, let her digest the
kiss, say "see ya" and then skate away. She looked spellbound for about ten seconds,
then went back to work. That was SO out of character for me, but it is a kiss-close, so I
guess it's a success.

Ray



79

Cynics who believe in media brainwashing would attribute this behavior to my having
seen Fast Times At Ridgemont High, a movie with a strong PUA message, in the form of
Mike Damone, whose hyper-aggressive, uber-confident game put a name and a face to that
invisible jerk who inexplicably swipes the good girls with the huge AFC bodycounts. After
years as a Rat, I decided to try it Mikes way, and got the expected results. With my
curiosity satisfied, and no idea of how to follow up (I never called her), I reverted to my AFC
behavior, but had become a bit edgier.


Unsolicited kissing is risky, and not recommended. I did give her time to block it, so
it was not truly stolen, and her physical reaction was warm, not repulsed. It was a good kiss, a
little stronger than my typical sendoff for SHBLunch, and accomplished its purpose. Besides, it
was stolen, which means a rule was going to be broken. I felt like Rickey Henderson! Readers
should be cautioned, however, that you cannot be an effective badboy without risk. The wild
side was a nice place to visit, but not to reside, and I dont regret having done this. Sometimes
you just need to try shit out. Just make sure the consequences arent too bad if you fuck up.

This tactic was inspired by two of my own very freaky experiences with the lottery. In
the first, I played a friends new phone number in the two drawings, only to watch all seven
digits of my number come up. The other occurred when Banned4Life was telling me about how
he was watching an anti-gambling sermon about the lottery on the 700 Club, and how this had to
be a sign to bet 666, so we did.
11

Discuss this chapter here:
Report-0.20-Stealing-A-Kiss-From-An-SHB-(Full-Text)

11
The number was 700.


80
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-One:
Meeting My MLTRs Primary

Her Emo fantasy (Popeye/Bluto) is a male nightmare, at worst, and barely tolerable, at
best:

DATE: 25 Aug 1982 15:36:27 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Met CowboyDude (SHBLunch's b/f)
NOW PLAYING: Rock This Town, by The Stray Cats
IN THE NEWS: Experts Debate Viability of Personal Computer

Quit the vending job and amgetting ready to go back to school. Was downtown, so I
stopped by SHBLunch's cart to see if she was up for dinner, but she already had a date: a
concert at the Palladiumwith her boyfriend. I offer to escort her to the concert hall to
keep her safe, and she says fine. Don't know if I should have done that but I didn't want
her taking the subway alone or walking on 14th. Grabbed a quick bite to eat with her in
the WTC concourse, then took the 4 or 5 (I forget which) to 14th. We walk out of the
station and to the Palladium, where CowboyDude is waiting for her.

He is such a fucking lowlife, or just a loser: twenty-five years old, some job that pays his
bills, and nothing better to do than fuck with high-school girls. Don't know what
SHBLunch sees in himand don't really care, but at least he was cool with me. Made
direct eye contact, introduced himself, shook my hand, and didn't ask about why I'd been
dating and kissing his g/f for the last seven months. Fine with me. If he didn't know,
he's a fucking idiot. If he doesn't know after tonight, he's an even bigger one.

Maybe he was just glad I protected his chick.

Ray


Neither of us was going to run Popeye/Bluto game, as we each had other options. Im
sure he exercised his as well. He probably liked that I protected his lady from harm, which is
why I was willing to endure the meeting. I didnt want her standing on 14
th
Street alone, if he
didnt show. I did note her taste in bed partners, and was not impressed, but what we did when
not together was no ones business but our own.



81

Please do not let some refusal to supplicate compromise your targets physical
safety. It is not supplication to go out of your way to ensure she does not have to ride the
subway alone, or stand outside on a deceptively dangerous block, like Union Square, even if
doing so requires you to serve up your primary, who is his secondary, to her primary.

Report-0.21-Meeting-My-MLTR-s-Primary-(Full-Text)


82
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Two:
Its Not The Thought That Counts

The target-class may love gifts, but as "game," they are not very efficient:

DATE: November 1982
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Gave Nice Watch To SHBWatch For Bday
NOW PLAYING: Jack And Diane, by J ohn Cougar
IN THE NEWS: NFL Strike Threatens Super Bowl
TARGET CARD: Ace of Diamonds

Been flirting with SHBWatch (9.3) for a while. Gave her a $30.00 watch for her
birthday. Whole school knows it. Don't think she likes me, but gifts are no-strings.
Very romantic thing to do.

She's wearing it so she likes it. That's cool.

Ray


Every reluctant PUA needs at least one proof that nice guys finish last.


A $30.00 watch to an SHB in Manhattan is not going to win the lifestyle game. She
did wear it, however, since it was nice. She seemed to accept me as one of many YEARS (Yet
Another Rejected Suitor) in her life.

Report-0.22-It-s-NOT-The-Thought-That-Counts-(Full-Text)


83
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Three:
Date With A Christmas Angel

I now see why SHBLunch dated me. We had some pretty fucking awesome dates.
This was our second-best:

DATE: 18 Dec 1982 14:59:26 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 15)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Another Nice Date w/SHBLunch
NOW PLAYING: Who Can It Be Now, by Men At Work
IN THE NEWS: NFL Strike Fallout Ruins Season

Last day of classes before holiday break (LOVE this school!), so it was time for another
"impromptu" date with SHBLunch, this time to Rockefeller Center for the Christmas
decorations, including the tree.

Snap all kinds of pictures of her, including this beautiful one of her in front of this
Christmas angel, it looks like she has wings! She should model; this pic could make it in
a magazine easily. Glad I have it. She liked being photographed, not camera-shy at all.
Must be the school we go to. Got a nice goodbye kiss, as per our ritual. The geek posse
at school got wind that we're dating so now they're like my fans. It's funny!

Ray


The geek posse at school never left me alone after this, while word began getting back
to the cool posse as well. My target, very inexplicably, had eyes for only me, within those walls.


The dating bootcamp was so priceless, and I knew this at the time, though I had
framed it to myself as part of growing up. Same shit, different name. Take it slow in the
beginning, and stick to the fundamentals. Learn to enjoy dating without sex, so you can perfect
the dating part. If you try to get laid with each target, you can lose valuable experience that will
get you laid down the road.

Report-0.23-Date-With-A-Christmas-Angel-(Full-Text)



84
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Four:
Playing With The Popular Kids

It was fringe membership in the cool clique, but membership it was:

DATE: 12 Feb 1983 02:17:09 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Damn What A Day (BLIZZARD!)
NOW PLAYING: Africa, by Toto
IN THE NEWS: Gay Cancer Kills Thousands
TARGET CARDS: Multiple

What a fucking day! And NIGHT! J ust got back after being stuck in the back of a cab
for TWO HOURS on 87th and Second. Finally got out of the cab, walked a block, the
streets were paved ("important" streets below 86th), and I got another cab. Drank a six-
pack with the cabbie and stayed warmin his cab while stuck. We got TWENTY-TWO
INCHES!! What is this fucking BUFFALO!?

It's too snowy for Central Park, so we split and head to VideogameDude's house. I knew
VGDude fromyears back, playing video games in the store around the corner fromhis
apartment, a few blocks fromwhere I live, so not a long walk home. We hang for four
hours or so there, and a fucking ORGY almost breaks out. Targets making out
everywhere, teasing the shit out of me, and I got like two kisses on the cheek and a brief
one on the lips. Didn't mean shit though; weird. J ust the way the group is, they like to
fuck around. I'mnot used to this but that's what growing up is about right? Pushing my
boundaries. Yeah, same reason I went to summer camp twice a few years ago.

So I walk home around 6:00, then head up to PhysicsDude's for the evening. What the
FUCK was I thinking? By 2:00 a.m. there's almost TWO FEET on the ground, and it's
not letting up. Cold as shit, icy, worst fucking weather of all time. I head out to go
home to get it overwith, get to 87th, and wind up STUCK in the back of a cab. Driver is
cool, we finish a six-pack I had with me, and finally make it home around 5:30 a.m. after
86th was cleared.

Fucking SNOWBOUND now. Nothing to do. Might as well read and listen to the radio.

Ray


My Breakfast Club. This is where I learned to function socially, with those who had
seriously strong social skillz. When among the popular, even minor mistakes are rooted out,
by advisories one knows not to question, given the popularity of the well-intended source.



85

This was not a loser posse; it was the opposite, and mixed. The L-III tension was
thick, and would sometimes spill over into conduct which would be illegal in public, like here, or
sometimes even in public. If the reader is like I was before this group inexplicably accepted me,
hell wonder how to cash in. The trick is simple: let the game come to you. Dont expect an
orgy to just happen, because it usually wont, but if youre patient, and cool, you wont be
kicked out of the room when one starts.

My ambiguity towards this group was as strong as its towards me. It was mutual
tolerance, and celebrating our dissimilarity, rather than using it as an excuse to bully. Despite
this, it is not easy to be cool, especially if you were me in 1982. I tried to blend, just as they
tried to overlook my uncoolness, except when one would school me. We grew from this
experience, in a manner way ahead of its time. We may have opened our textbooks sparingly,
but, in many ways, we learned more than most who did, not because cutting classes is
particularly wise, or cool, but because we were all smart, gifted, independent thinkers, and, for
the most part, relatively decent teenagers, who were gaming the system.

This posse had a ton of free time to kill, every day, when the adults were working, our
peers were trapped in regular schools, and we didnt really want to have to explain why we were
free to cover Manhattan every afternoon, just after lunch. We also just liked hanging out, not
even to run game, an odd practice in the pre-internet era, before we all became PUAs and
targets.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7204-Bettor-Off-single-Field-
Report-0.24-Playing-With-The-Popular-Kids-(Full-Text)


86
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Five:
Why, No, I Dont Have A Girlfriend

I would find the "correct" answer many years later:

DATE: March 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FU++: SHBHippie Practically J UMPS Me! I FUMBLE!
NOW PLAYING: Be Good Johnny, by Men At Work
IN THE NEWS: NC State Continues Cinderella NCAA Run

Frank Gifford would have said it this way:

The handoff is to Ray...he cuts left, finds an opening...Johnson misses the tackle
and he's GONE! To the fifty! The forty! The thirty! The twenty! The TEN!
Touch...OH MY GOD HE FUMBLED! And loses the ball for his team! What a
STUPID mistake.

SHBHippie (9.3) is a little overweight but otherwise perfect. She's part of the Central
Park posse, and I didn't notice her much until she opened me today with:

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

I said no, asked her why she wanted to know, and completely fucked up. Ray


Try this instead:

HER: "Do you have a girlfriend?"

YOU: "You tell me."

Make soulful, piercing eye contact, and move in for the kiss as you say it. This is a
clear path to the endzone. Being cool had paid off, and I didnt bother collecting.


As all tournament chessplayers know, it pays to book up, since your time to find
winning moves over the board is limited, while training time is not. Discuss this chapter on our
forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7205-Field-Report-0.25-Why-
No-I-Don-t-Have-A-Girlfriend


87
Lesson Eight:
TURD-Money And Lifestyle Game

Much as crack-addicts fund their habit, women addicts do so similarly, via the use of
TURD-money, i.e., the:

[T]emporary
[U]nsustainable
[R]idiculous
[D]eployment

...of cash, or cash-equivalents. The concept applies everywhere (like Wall Street), not
just seduction.

TURD-Money vs. TURD-Flameout

TURD-money is extramoney, over and above your infrastructure costs, but women-
addicted men have been known to convert their survival resources into TURD-money as well,
but only briefly. If you restrict your TURD-money, as I do, to money not earmarked for regular
expenses, youll have far less of it, but deploying it wont destroy you financially, as it routinely
does the blue-collar workers who blow their paychecks on Friday at stripclubs (why I never went
on Fridays if I could avoid it), in a classic TURD-flameout. Many wealthy men are also prone
to dipping into their nest-egg, particularly if they cant fend off a predatory, super-elite Diamond,
who has spent her life preparing to fleece wealthy, sex-addicted men. Just like drugs can
bankrupt even the super-rich, so can a polished golddigger, one so good at what she does, youll
be swearing up and down shes a Heart, and willing to exterminate any man who claims
otherwise, since we all know Hearts love men who get violent on their behalf.

The gray area of TURD is retirement money. In theory, your nest-egg should be
completed before you can truly call it TURD-money, but given how most peoples 401(k)s have
been doing, and the apparent inevitability of a devalued dollar, for purposes of this text, lifestyle
game has no requirement that you waste your youth on a nest-egg. It is believed the reader will
take care of business in middle-age, when he has time to make money, rather than destroying his
L-I game prematurely, by giving up his time for work, and the money he makes there for
retirement. To get the level of L-I play I got in the 1980s would cost me hundreds of dollars a
night in hired-guns alone. With that said, a middle-ground can be reached, since a 401(k), in
addition to being bankruptcy-proof, can be borrowed against, should the need for TURD-money
arise, and otherwise left intact.

For someone in my position growing up, and even after, horseplaying has always
made sense, because it has been profitable for me more years than not, and was profitable every
year through 1983, when game became my primary avocation, and my winning began to
decrease. The TURD-money from my first minor jackpot, my best day ever at the track, led to


88
NHBSkates, courtesy of the lifestyle upgrade offered by my new custom-built wheels. For the
same reasons most people shouldnt bet horses, I should, since someone has to win what the
degenerates lose. This did not endear me to PUACousins side of the family at all, due to our
uncle having gambled away my SHBAunts fortune (including ruining the original NFL product-
licensing deal, to which my family held numerous rights), and would often make unsolicited
remarks about how bad gambling was, even for games of skill.

Ironically, SHBCousin would give me a Christmas gift of a book called The
Handicapper, a fictional account of a sports bettor who used power ratings, the sports
equivalent of Beyers speed-figures, to turn $250.00 into $4,900.00+the first year, $109,000.00+
the second, you wouldnt believe it the third, he still doesnt believe it, the fourth, and
[antagonist] Nathan Rubin, were he still alive, wouldnt believe it, before adding, no, Nathan
Rubin would believe it, for his fifth and final year, culminating in a $388,500.00 wager on
UCLA, in the 1975 title game. The novel had fascinating subplots, involving wealthy
Manhattanites, good (Solomon Lepidus) and evil (Rubin) alpha males, protagonist
Davids shrewish ex-wife, who left him because of his gambling, his new, nineteen year-old
girlfriend, who was mostly an EL-II, and never cared about his gambling, and the backdrop of
Elaines (89
th
and Second), as Davids main hangout. But for the timing, the story appears to be
based on legendary sports bettor Billy Walters, a man so feared by bookies that they limit action
for, or ban, anyone suspected of bearding for him.

The Handicapper seemed fictionalized, mostly for tax considerations. At the time,
Benjamin Lee Eckstein published power ratings in the New York Daily News, but he could have
been a beard, David himself, or just someone who knew the story. Though I knew nothing of
how to make power ratings at the time, my math skillz were such that I knew it was possible,
and set a goal of creating them myself. If David were a real character, then power ratings were
extremely profitable, and I wanted to cash in, while my quantitative brain welcomed the
mathematical challenge. With no clue on where to start, I abandoned the project in favor of
horseplaying, which was spitting out large amounts of TURD-money (for a fifteen year-old).
Thanks to horseplaying, and only to horseplaying, I was living in Manhattan. Messengering was
nice, but never generated much TURD-money, and I was just scratching the surface of what was
possible.

TURD-Money And The Street Value Of Women

The sex-industry's discount options are well-known. A few hundred bucks, and even
less, can get a man laid by an RHC. In poorer countries, like Costa Rica, and South America, an
SHBProstitute can be had for $100.00 a night (or hour), well within reach of most tourists.
Using the higher-end conversions as a basis, however, i.e., SHBProstitutes, the rates of
$1,500.00 an hour, to $10,000.00 a month to "keep" one, is a better barometer of the value of
"lifestyle game." My winnings equated to lifestyle game, since SHBProstitutes could be had for
as little as $200.00- $300.00 an hour back then. Saving my income from a week or two was also
sufficient to fund such a lay, an example of the privilege I took for granted. That I never had to


89
exercise these options is immaterial; for better or worse, I had them, which means I had
quantifiable "lifestyle game."

According to one Cosmo article, in 1983, an SHBDiamond could reliably be kept for
the "bargain" price of $2,500.00 a month, plus a free Manhattan apartment, in return for being
on call, or what the Emo PUA calls flaking (on him). For purposes of this text, I have given
a name to the price of one lay with an SHBProstitute: the Spitzer, currently valued at $1,500.00,
or basic lifestyle unit (BLU). The Spitzer serves as the unit of measure for converting lifestyle
game to sex, in its purest form. The value of a Spitzer in 1982 was indeed around $300.00.
Complicating this analysis is no one's desire to admit to a "lifestyle game" transaction, as it is
indirect prostitution. For as "close" as I was with SHBLunch, each of our dates would erase up
to $50.00 from my TURD-money pile (most dates were $25.00-30.00).

My privilege made me more reliant on lifestyle game as a teenager, and this was the
main reason I kept crashing in L-II. Instead of just fucking SHBHippie, who never would have
cared if I spent a cent on her, I went the traditional-dating route. SHBLunch was still attracted
as I said, she could have chosen much more expensive dates but I was still greasing the wheels
with privilege. In theory, this made SHBHippie the better choice, but I was already dating
SHBLunch, and SHBHippie had the same Diamond options, though I doubt shed have come
on to me so strongly if she were that opportunistic. Her query about my relationship status could
easily have been secondary to her seeing me with SHBLunch, which would confirm the latters
pivot value.

TURD-Money vs. Wealth

One reason Tiger Woods was able to score more mistresses than majors was his
wealth, defined as unlimited TURD-money, or the ability to deploy what would normally be
TURD-money, without touching his nest-egg. According to reports, he once paid $15,000.00 for
a date with an RSHC, enough to easily blow his rivals out of the water, as that is ten Spitzers,
even at Todays prices. For Woods, this would have been worth it, because the time he saved
enabled him to recover his investment many times over, while anyone who tried to match him,
even the typical Ace of Diamonds, would wind up bankrupt. The rule is simple:

Never compete against TURD-money OR wealth, unless you are wealthier
yourself, and then, only to the extent doing so does not deplete your wealth.

The last thing you want is a bidding war. If you are in a stripclub, for example, and
some construction worker is crapping out his $1,500.00+, biweekly paycheck, your $50.00+is
like pissing into a hurricane. If you arent the hurricane, dont be the urine. This will score
points with the strippers, who can spend time with you when the rain stops. One reason the
community took off so quickly is that it discourages the use of lifestyle game, even if many
gurus use it as a crutch. Even when deployed, conversion of TURD-money into sex is the
only way to justify its deployment. The true financial enemy of all PUAs is the sugardaddy,


90
or any variant thereof, who surrenders large amounts of cash, TURD or otherwise, without
achieving conversation, thus devaluing lifestyle game for all.

Partial Luxury: Ideal TURD-Money Deployment

Most men spend their TURD-money "as they go," and rarely engage in any activity
likely to boost their regular income, assuming that their ability to provide for an RHC is
sufficient, when it usually is not. The societal brainwashing that says working forty hours a
week is sufficient, with the remaining time devoted to leisure, and an LTR or marriage, or what
we call The American Dream has caused many men to underachieve, and realize, only too
late, that they should have been greedier, would have become far wealthier if they had, and that
one day, they might fall for an Ace of Diamonds. Further brainwashing says they shouldnt
want a golddigging whore, but if shes a super-elite, no amount of money can overpay, if she
offers full value, and is a sufficiently skilled actress to convince her customer of such. This
requires more than just stripper skillz, because stopping the fantasy will stop the gravy-train,
and Diamonds know this.

Partial luxury refers to my ultimate reconciliation of youthful privilege, and my
starving-artist adulthood. Similar to my recreational use of pharmaceutical-grade women,
partial luxury involves the infrequent deployment of TURD-money, rather than consistently
depleting it each payday. Applied to prostitution (the only quantitative measure of lifestyle
game), partial-luxury would have a direct lifestyle PUA deploying a Spitzer on an SHBProstitute
once a month, instead of, say, an HBProstitute once a week. Applied to drinking, it would have
him rolling VIP once a month, instead of on the main floor twice a week, and so on. The
downside of partial luxury is that it demands a Spartan existence once the luxury runs out,
until the TURD-money is replenished. This decision is a matter of taste; I just prefer partial
luxury to complete mediocrity.

PUA Economics

A large part of my money-management strategy at the track is based on racetrack
economics, or economic considerations specific to horseplaying. Money management is every
touts (including financial advisors) snake oil, a means of selling advice which is either
obvious, useless, just plain wrong, or all of the above. In an attempt to gain academic
credibility, most horseplaying authors, including Beyer, recommend a sound money-
management strategy. Beyers was this:

Prime bets should be five percent of your bankroll, and no more than two or
three per day. Action bets are for the other races, but should not total more
than two percent of the bankroll for a given day.

This sounds so disciplined! Beyer went on to talk about how, from his $3,000.00
bankroll, his prime bets were $150.00 (in 1975), just enough to make losing hurt a little, as


91
he put it, while winning would make a nice income for the day. Again, this sounds great, but it
completely ignores the infrastructure costs of betting horses, and the fact that what Beyer called
discipline in betting only a few races a day seriously, I now call weakness, due to racetrack
economics:

1. Beyers one-dimensional approach to handicapping (speed-figures) gave him an
edge twice or three times a day (according to him), yet if hes really a superior
handicapper, hed have an edge in every race, just like Ken Jennings had an edge
in every Jeopardy! category. Indeed, if Beyer couldnt produce or sustain this
edge, he had no business as a professional horseplayer. Then again, Beyer
wasnt a professional, but an advantaged recreational player.

2. Beyer neglected to note the impact of his job on his horseplaying, because, unlike
most horseplayers, his writing gigs stabilized his income, so he could afford to be
patient. Normal horseplayers spend up to six hours handicapping a card, and
another four hours betting it, which puts them $72.50 in the hole, the money they
could have earned at minimum wage. Beyer did not have this problem, because
he was colleting a paycheck while at the track, but this also means he was not a
true professional, like Ernie Dahlman, who lives solely off his $700,000.00+a
year in winnings, who never wrote a handicapping book (for the same reason I
havent dropped PAP II), and whose wealth only became apparent when NYRA
stiffed him $1.6 million in winnings. Dahlman is advantaged as well, however,
since he is part-owner of an OTB, which means he also gets the OTBs cut of
wagers (12-18 percent), but he began winning long before this.

Those who attempt to apply normal financial-market principles to the track neglect the
obvious:

The racetrack is not a house of discipline!

The track is where one turns small amounts of money into large amounts, or, if they
are at the Ken Jennings level, to exploit their advantage every race. Even the stock market is
set up for the average investor to make maybe seven percent each year, which means, like Beyer,
they still need a job to cover bills, while anyone able to live off of a $1.10 annual ROI (not per-
race ROI) would be able to retire on their bankroll.

The most fascinating example of racetrack economics involves New York City OTB,
and its notorious five-percent surcharge on winning wagers, which means a horse who pays
$10.00 at the track, would pay only $9.40 at OTB (actually $9.50, but with double dime
breakage cutting that to $9.40, the way a $10.19 track payoff is cut to $10.00). The double-
breakage raises the surcharge to closer to six or seven percent, but even at five percent, this can
mean the difference between profitability and unprofitability, by taking a horseplayers ROI
from say $1.02 to $0.97, etc. Mom actually refuted this herself long ago, but her lack of math


92
skillz had me dismissing her proof. As a business owner, Mom understood the time value of
money, which is why she noted the following, with me adding another reason in recent years:

1. In the two hours she saved by not having to commute to and from the track,
she could make much more money than the surcharge would cost her, even
on jackpot wins.

2. Assuming infrastructure costs of $10.00 a day to get to the track, one would
have to collect $200.00 a day in winning wagers, to make back the cost of
going to the track, for the better prices.

I no longer bet at OTB, but the racetrack economics lesson is instructive. PUA
economics are similarly unique, and may contradict what is considered sound financial behavior,
due to the priceless nature of pharmaceutical-grade women. Usually, however, sound PUA
economics involves reducing the total cost of getting laid, as measured in:

1. Time
2. Money
3. Risk!
4. Reward
5. Sustainability

That which most effectively optimizes all five elements is the correct choice for the
PUA economist. Beyers writing gigs gave him unlimited patience at the track, due to his stable
income, but I could have been doing other things, so I needed to win enough to justify the time
investment. PUA economics works similarly, with day game costing nothing to run, compared
with the costly L-I venues, for men who need targets lined up in one place, to have a shot,
although more advanced PUAs will actually thrive in the same venues, due to their ability to
exploit target-richness, while the AFC is just paying more to get rejected.

In Volume II, the reports will increasingly indicate my growing awareness of PUA
economics, spurred by necessity. Efficiency is the key. Id like to say I had an epiphany that led
me to practice sound PUA economics, but the real credit must go to HBFinger, and a few others
(see later reports), who had me shying away from L-I venues, as I found I did better just by
going about my Manhattan business, like skating down Second Avenue on a freezing Friday
night, or tailing SHBLunch on the A-train after school. Since I was experiencing success, I had
no reason to change, and the money I saved was just gravy, because I had plenty of TURD-
money.

The cost of getting laid is part of the equation. The PUA runs much cheaper game
than the AFC, spending little or no time or money on anything less than a live target, and, even
then, only rarely. SHBLunch was excellent, due to her bootcamp value, but she cost hundreds of
dollars, and two years, for a few dozen goodbye kisses, and some kino. For the VCABM, this


93
was an excellent way to bide my time, but only insofar as I needed the lessons. I like dating, and
the pivot value usually justifies the cost, but it is not the key to L-III, as many successful
PUAs, and failed AFCs, perpetually prove.

Age And TURD-Money: Lifestyle Game Favors The Young

This is pretty simple, actually:

Older men have more money!

Also:

Younger men have more potential!

The above combination makes lifestyle game much more inexpensive to run when
young. Even if I had grown up in a poor corner of the Bronx, a messenger job in my teens would
have given me a similar lifestyle to the one I enjoyed, as my targets, with one very notable
exception, almost never set foot in my luxury apartment (its risky to let strangers into an upscale
home). Even without a job, or teenage TURD-money, my potential usually gave me a pass, thus
making me invulnerable to most lifestyle rivals. Indeed, about the only type of male who could
truly defeat me in that arena would be one much wealthier than me, competing for a hardcore
Diamond, one not even willing to wait for me to finish college or law school (my intent at The
Battle of Kate) to become her high-earning dream man. For me, the problem wasnt losing a
target to some ridiculous ideal rich man, but getting one because, to them, I was that man.

For golddigger-repellant, I restricted my spending, and SHBLunch never overspent, so
any Diamonds who wanted me would had to have had pretty low aspirations, since theyd be
waiting several years for me to finish school. In the 1980s, men were expected to still pay for
dates, and, to be a true sucker, had to behave almost like a sugardaddy. The exchange is fair,
due to pivot value. Even when I did give a romantic gift (as a hopeful, not a boyfriend), I
spent all of $30.00 (in 1982), not $300.00. Even back then, I knew Id never spend more than
$100.00 on a date, because I didnt do trips, or otherwise attempt to purchase a womans
affection.

To understand potential, consider how, aside from superior Emo game, one reason a
starving-artist can get away with being dead broke, while a blue-collar worker might repel the
same target, is that the former has a chance of making it big, and will still be more interesting
even if he does not, an example of "Emo game discounting lifestyle game." Let him spend $3.00
on a coffee, and she will cherish it more than a precious stone, or a separate-rooms vacation to a
luxury resort, from a "Diamond" suitor.



94
TURD-Money And Women-Addiction

SHBLunch saved me a fortune, compared to what older men were spending just to
talk to comparably attractive "targets." My intensive reading of men's (and women's) magazines,
alerted me to the existence of hustle bars, similar to stripclubs, only they would use "bar girls" to
charm men out of thousands of dollars in overpriced champagne or wine, sometimes
nonalcoholic (due to licensing). Horror stories of men in the throes of women-addicted frenzy
being fleeced out of thousands of dollars scared me straight, but left the women-addiction intact,
where it would still impede my soulmate-search, and game. If I was going to drop a Spitzer,
the $110.00 an hour for the escort services listed in the Yellow Pages were an option, but they
required you to give your name and address, which had me fearing being busted, and my name
being published in the Post, a nightmare unto itself. Instead, I hung onto my money, and
remained content with SHBLunch, while continuing my soulmate-search.

Without women-addiction, men would not waste a cent of TURD-money on nothing.
Youd think their cravings would cause them to demand full conversion, yet this is obviously not
the case, given how easy it is for an RHC to get rich in this country, without turning a single
trick. If men simply demanded fair value for satisfying their women-addiction, the beauty
premium would vanish, and the target-class would have to up the L-III ante to compensate. The
issue isnt paying for sex, but paying a fair price. Every time a sugardaddy feeds $10,000.00+a
month to some super-elite, without getting laid, thats $10,000.00 worth of tricks that just went
up in smoke. If Tiger Woods pays $15,000.00 (ten Spitzers) for a pharmaceutical-grade
hooker, even Spitzer has to up the ante, or be sidelined, while even LimoDude has to be careful.
There, however, conversion is occurring, so the sexual currency isnt being artificially inflated
by all the money the target-class can make by not having sex. In other words, the man who pays
for sex is not harming other men economically, but the one who doesnt, is harming all other
men.

Unchecked women-addiction often results in bankruptcy, as the male continues to
feed it, until all of his resources, including credit, and whatever he can beg, borrow, or steal, are
depleted, at which point his target moves on to her next victim, then the next, then the next,
until the next-generation Diamonds take over. Women-addicted "AFCs" fail to realize how
fragile their wealth is, or how they are sitting ducks for an opportunistic women dealer. Further,
the street value of women ensures insolvency, leading to women withdrawal. Denial of their
women addiction leads to a false sense of security, similar to our own, prior to the recent
financial crisis. The greed of an Ace of Diamonds is limitless, and rarely will she offer full
value. Many in the community view a relatively low lay count as a negative, but until a man
can handle the recreational use of pharmaceutical-grade women, he risks financial destruction
at the hands of one.

The Futility Of TURD-money



95
Two words: Tiger Woods. Two more: Rachel Uchitel. Still think that $100.00 you
tossed the VIP hostess will impress her? Unless you are truly wealthy, conversion is crucial to
justifying deployment, and the PUA needs a realistic expectation of what constitutes full
value. You may think the Spitzer is overvalued, but the market says otherwise, and if you cant
handle that, you can downgrade to an RHCProstitute, to up your conversion volume by a
factor of five, or even try crack-whore game, for a factor of around seventy-five. In my prime, I
used to carry up to $200.00 on me at all times, in case I would ever need to rent a hotel room,
pay for a long-distance taxi, or buy drinks for an impromptu date, like NHBSkates, mostly
because I didnt want money getting in the way of my game.

TURD-Money And Pivots

Using TURD-money to hire a pivot can be excellent PUA economics, if it reduces the
time cost of getting laid. If not hiring one results in twelve visits to a club to score a lay, while
hiring one generates a half-dozen live targets in your first visit, your winglady has justified her
existence, which is why wealthy men use them. If you are already investing substantial time and
money, with a VIP (very invoiced person) evening out, a little extra for a pivot can go a long
way towards justifying the entire expenditure, especially if your L-I game is lacking, as it is for
most older men.

TURD-Money And Kate

While I hadn't hired Kate as a pivot, she functioned as one at The Battle of Kate, and
several other times leading up. Our pre-battle isolation was a huge DHV, one I did not
welcome, since it was too easy for others, including PhysicsDude, to draw the wrong
conclusions. The $35.00 in 1985 TURD-money that funded the keg party converted my hall,
temporarily, into a hotter venue than the campus party downstairs...until the keg was gone, at
which point it reverted to just another dorm room, in just another dorm wing, with just another
decimated bathroom on a Sunday morning. The $35.00 was an amazing lifestyle game bargain.
It was also not spent directly on Kate, but on a general lifestyle DHV, which snared a dozen
other live targets, had its inspiration not appeared.

Society And TURD-Money

The TURD-money concept applies to all areas of society. The recent financial crisis
has flushed tons of corporate TURD-money out of the economy. Our own government has been
on a TURD-money binge for a generation, as it assume increasing levels of debt, with the
inevitable economic crash-and-burn on the horizon. Many individuals live beyond their means,
creating a debt bubble of TURD-money that will inevitably blow up in their faces, with the
fallout felt by everyone. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7214-Bettor-Off-Single-Lesson-Eight-
TURD-Money-And-Lifestyle-Game-(Full-Text)


96
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Six:
Paradise To The Fool

The inevitability of this outcome underscores the problem young males have figuring
out what to do:

DATE: 07 May 1983 22:10:03 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR/FU: "Win" two grand, then crash and burn.
NOW PLAYING: Twilight Zone, by Golden Earring.
IN THE NEWS: Middle East Grows More Volatile

Gotta love the track! What happened to me Tuesday at Monmouth is something I'll be
talking about twenty-five years from now, and I'll remember it just like it was today.
You don't forget stuff like this. I'll also remember the huge FUCK-UP at the West End
(up by Columbia) that sorta resulted fromit. First the good news:

Tuesday is beautiful and warm. I got like $55.00 in my pocket, and just finished a
messenger run, so I was walking west on 53rd towards school near Columbus Circle.
Day is too fucking beautiful to waste in school, so I detour to Port Authority for the bus
to Monmouth, since Belmont is dark (closed) on Tuesdays. Ride out for an hour, near
where Banned4Life now lives, thinking I might see himthere or walk a half-mile to the
phone and call (no phones at the track due to bookies). On the bus I read my horoscope
in the Post. It says "Count on good financial luck today." I'msorta into that so I say
okay I will.

Get to Monmouth and I'mlosing. Fucking J ersey racing don't know shit about it. Down
to my last $5.00, before the sixth, so I bet it on a 9-5 shot. I go to call Banned but it's a
long walk and I'mtired, so I stick around. If the horse wins, I'll stay, if it leaves I'll go
on the early bus home. It wins. I get $14.00 back, lose $5.00 on the seventh, $4.00 on
the eighth, and have $5.00 left in the ninth. I bet $5.00 to win on #7 at 4-1. Favorite is
#10. Now it gets funky!

As I'mwalking around I look on the floor at this shiny ticket, appears new, so I kick it
over. It says:

9th MONMOUTH
$1 Trifecta Box
1-2-3-8

I look at the tote:

1 50-1
2 35-1


97
3 14-1
8 20-1

Four hopeless longshots. I do what any sharp would do and try to cancel the ticket for a
refund to bet on #7. I go to the teller, and he offers to change the ticket, but refuses to
refund it. I curse under my breath and stuff the ticket in my pocket, watch the race, and
root for #7. Halfway on the turn, #10 (the favorite) takes off, with #9 chasing him.
They open six lengths on the field, so my #7 is dead, and I head for the bus. Then
something even funkier happens: #10 knocks #9 over the rail. The accident was scary,
and I watch the order of finish: 10-2-1-3.

Then I remember the box ticket in my pocket.

Then I look at the accident and wonder "did the #10..." just as I hear:

Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please. There is a stewards' inquiry
concerning the stretch running of the race.

Since #9 did not finish, #10 would be placed last if disqualified, making the trifecta 2-1-
3, which I had. For all I knew, mine was the only ticket, but lots of people box 1-2-3 so
that sucked. I didn't care I just wanted to win. Seven agonizing minutes later, I did.
The trifecta paid $4,292.00 for $2.00, and I had half of it. On a ticket I tried to cancel!
This is by far my biggest (and luckiest) day ever at the track. The next day, Boards went
to cash the ticket for me (I'munderage), I paid him$100.00, and won $101.00 on the
card. Loaned Mom$1,000.00 to keep the business going, and will get a nice
"allowance" back through September. Now for the fuckup:

Friday night, I got a ton of cash, and I head out like I did when I met NHBSkates, but
this time I bribe a limo driver to take me to the West End (113th and Broadway). They
let my old prep classmates drink there so I know age isn't an issue. I get there and hang
out, with SHBDye, a few other SHBs and people I don't really know. Not too
experienced in bars so I just kinda hung out looking stupid. Guess I was acting stupid
too since around 2:00 this fucking asshole bouncer (cards people at the door) tells me the
score as we're outside the bar. Arrogant little fuck getting all aggressive with me, like
he's really cool, which he's not:

"Hey, dude, I don't think you realize this, but they've been trying to throw you
hints that they don't like you. Why don't you just like disappear.."

I'mlike sure, no fucking problem, grab a cab to Studio 54, it's shit (they let some dweeb
frommy building in like he was a fucking movie star), didn't want to waste the $20.00
cover charge, headed home, and flirted with a drunk SHBClassmate fromgrade school
in my lobby after she stumbled out of a cab. Only bright spot of the evening.

I get the bar shit now. Pathetic. Fucking loser bouncer looks and sounds like he lives in
Astoria. Have fun on the fucking RR at 4:30 a.m. asshole and say hi to your fucking
three doorman for me.


98

Ray


Of course I was stupid. Dad died in 1979, Mom never bothered to school me on bar
game, and I never realized the extent to which people could say one thing and do another.
Retreating home, to my luxury apartment, and my pile of $100.00 bills, was therapeutic enough,
particularly when I thought of how the bouncer had to be living. SHBDye was yet another
example of how Love Conquers Nothing.


The most annoying long-term aspect of this field-report would turn out to be that my
best day ever at the track was pure luck (aside from my skill at looking for tickets just in case)
and not the product of handicapping, something that annoyed me far more, and for far longer,
than SHBDyes momentary knife-twist. Not surprisingly, SHBDye wound up a corporate hired-
gun in Manhattan, earning what appears to be a six-figure salary. She still has a fair amount of
her looks.

Report-0.26-Paradise-To-The-Fool-(Full-Text)


99
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Seven:
Taxicab Confessions

In Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan, Kirk justified cheating a certain-death
simulator by saying he didnt like to lose. Neither do I:

DATE: 27 May 1983 11:55:03 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Taxi Makeout w/SHBPrep
NOW PLAYING: Jeopardy!, by The Greg Khin Band
IN THE NEWS: Experts Debate Validity of "Hitler Diaries"

Went back to the "scene of the crime" (The West End) totally by accident tonight, due to
a new target fromschool, NHBWestEnd (7.7). She's kinda hot and kinda cool, but not
too responsive. Somehow she convinces me to grab a cab to The West End. for a
pitcher, and I'mlike sure. We get there, I order the pitcher, and the second I pay for it,
the head bouncer comes up and cards me! It was fucking Heineken! $7.50 down the
fucking drain, but who cares I'mstill loaded fromthe ticket I found at Monmouth.
Cashed a lot of Islander bets during the playoffs; best fucking bet in the world right now.
Edmonton thinks Gretzky can beat thembut no way he's not that good. Gimme that 6-5
odds on the Great Teamwith the Great Coach (Arbour) against the Great One anytime.
Four straight cups and the Isles lost one game one and never played a Game 7 (Game 5
in OT against the Penguins last year was the only scare). Dynasty!!

So I get thrown out of the West End, go across the street to a diner to cool off, then head
back outside the bar since it was closing. What do I see but the prep-school group
dispersing, the bouncer getting blown off by two SHBs in the group, and the group
getting into cabs, all except for SHBPrep (9.7), who stepped away for a minute, came
back, and was alone. With no money! Perfect! She's like almost crying, drunk, and
wondering how to get home. I ask her where she lives, and she's like 84th and
Columbus, which is on my way home, through the Park at 81st. Before I get in the cab,
I whisper to the driver "drive carefully."

I tell SHBPrep not to worry, and either she forgot me or pretended she wasn't a bitch to
me or got the bouncer on me, and I play along. Driver misses a few lights, hits some
traffic, and buys me a few minutes. I start light kino like I'mreassuring her, and she
fucking ignites. We're making out around 87th, the cab stops for a light at 86th, then we
stop once we're at her apartment. I let her out and continue home. NHBWestEnd found
her own way back, I think. Had gone back to look for her too but couldn't get in.

Weird fucking evening. I like kissing SHBs.

Ray



100

Chessplayers like to win by correcting previous mistakes. Even Islander Coach Al
Arbour, whose four-time champions never played a Game Seven, lost only one Game One, and
faced elimination only once, when trailing 3-1, with 5:40 to go, against the eighth-seeded
Penguins, in Game Five of the opening round in 1982, when they rallied to win in overtime, 4-3.
Ten years later, the top-seeded Penguins would be knocked out of the opening round by the
eighth-seeded Islanders. Despite living in Ranger country, I couldnt help but admire Arbours
ruthless efficiency, though I had a soft spot for Ranger fans, and their forty-three years without a
Cup.


If this was the prize, L-I venues were not for me, or my soulmate-search. My results
were way too strong outside of them, way too weak inside, and I was not interested in practicing.
Had my skillz been weaker, I would have resorted to the drunk option whenever I got
desperate. As difficult as it is to grasp a target vastly superior to a seventeen year-old prep-
school SHB, a few, but only a few, exist on the upper east side of Manhattan. SHBBrazil was a
good example of that type of perfection, and my cluelessness in not spending every free moment
with it, when I had plenty of chances.

Report-0.27-Taxicab-Confessions-(Full-Text)


101
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Eight:
Shes My Best Friends.MOTHER!?

The "community" can put a creepy spin on anything, no matter how innocuous, even if
my "target" was a bit taken aback:

DATE: J une 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR: A MomI Wouldn't Like To Fuck
NOW PLAYING: Overkill, by Men At Work
IN THE NEWS: Thatcher Retains Office In Landslide
TARGET CARD: Ten of Diamonds

OH MY!! This was weird!

Hanging out in the arcade around 3:30 last night (Saturday), when I realized I was out of
cigs, so I crossed the street to a bar that was still open to get a pack fromthe machine in
the back, when who do I run into, but PHYSICSDUDE'S MOM!! She's with an
NHBFriend (7.2) I had met a few times, and she's an NHB herself (6.0), but just barely.
She's like FORTY FIVE or something, so a little too old for me. Definitely drunk, but
she cabs it home so that's cool. I see her on the way back out and she GRABS me, with
one question:

WHERE. IS. MY. SON!????

I'm like "Home, sleeping, probably" and was gonna add "what the hell else
would he be doing?" PhysicsDude wasn't the type to break rules without a
purpose, or to go to bars at 3:30, but it was funny as hell to run into his mom.
Her friend is laughing and giving me IOIs but I ignore them since it's already too
complicated.

Then she's like "does your Mom know where you are?" and I just give her a look
like "wanna call her?" She should know better. Haven't had a curfew since
fifteen, but I call in anyway, mostly to let Mom know if I'll be eating at home or
not, or if she wants me to pick something up on the way back. I'm like a BLOCK
from home so it's nothing, but the not-a-MILF couldn't string two thoughts
together.

Never realized until tonight how cool my Mom is...or how cool HIS is! Now we
got something to talk about before Star Trek on Monday.

Ray



102

PhysicsDude was amused. If PhysicsMom had known better, she would not have had
to ask where he was. I think she felt old, running into one of his friends this way. Now why on
earth would she have felt that way? Oh yes: she was old!


I would have asked PhysicsMom to play an ambiguous prank on PhysicsDude. I also
wouldnt have been hanging out with PhysicsDude, instead choosing more Kate-positive
endeavors, yet this would also have prevented The Battle Of Kate.

Report-0.28-She-s-My-Best-Friend-s....MOTHER!-(Full-Text)


103
Field Report Zero Point Twenty-Nine:
Blind AMOGing

Two big wins at the track, met with a "blowout" in the field:

Date: J uly 2, 1983 15:22:45 GMT
From: Ray (Age 16)
Subject: FR++: Ray Makes EVERYONE Rich!
Now Playing: Electric Avenue, by Eddie Grant
IN THE NEWS: Heat Waves Smothers City
TARGET CARD: Ten Of Spades

If only chicks were as easy as the track. Got another lifestyle boost today so it's sorta
game related. Got "warned" by an AMOG usher at Belmont not to "bug" NHBNyra
(6.0), who worked the next section, and I didn't even know if she really sent him. She
probably didn't, since I wasn't hitting on her and she's like WAY too ugly. Felt sorry for
the guy. Been following this horse named Au Point since he won his debut in 1:34.0 for
a mile, stakes time. He was 2-5 his first two starts (two wins),then he lost two, and
turned up in the Belmont at 35-1. I bet him, he leads for a mile-and-a-quarter in 1:59.4
(track record is 1:59.3), then runs out of gas. He comes back today in the Dwyer (much
weaker race) at 20-1 in the program. I tell everyone who would listen to bet as much as
they could, and they all did. I bet $100.00, Boards and Momalso bet $100.00, Banned
bet $20.00, and about six other people I know bet pretty big for them(maybe $20.00-
50.00 each). Au Point jumps to the lead, never looks back, and pays $17.00. I go home
with $450.00, and everyone I know has won like three dimes. Great fucking day! With
whomshould I celebrate? -- Ray


The dangers of aiming low. Super-elites have class, and are among the most polite
when they reject, since they want to avoid extreme negative reactions, or being attacked for the
manner of the rejection, rather than the rejection itself. Like SHBDye, this target didnt have to
do that, instead could have just said she could get in trouble for socializing or something, and
that would have been that. It was that anyway, but with one more data point against giving the
target-class the benefit of the doubt.


With a half-hour to kill between races, and few quality targets, I got bored. Like her
face, Idle hands are the work of the devil. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
0.29-Blind-AMOGging-(Full-Text)


104
Field Report Zero Point Thirty:
Coming Of Age And My First EL-II

Mickey Goldwin tried to warn me:

MICK: "This dame's a wreckin' machine! She's gonna kill ya! Dames are
bad news, I tell ya. Stay away."

ME: "Awww, come on, Mick. I just want to go the distance. You know, if
you got laid once in a while you wouldn't be such a grouch."

MICK: So finish yer DAMN book so I can learn how to get laid as a
wrinkled, eighty-two year-old ex-prizefighter with a art condition.

ME: A heart condition?

MICK: No, an ART condition, ya tomato can! You ever try to act opposite
Stallone? This dames gonna knock ya ta tomorrow. Stallonell win
an Oscar before you win her. Dont waste your time, Kid.

Go the distance I would, and kill me, this not she, because were responsible for
ourselves almost would. Welcome to Round One:

DATE: J uly 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Holy. Fucking. Shit. (NHBStore is now SHBStore)
NOW PLAYING: Lawyers In Love, by J ackson Browne
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Remains High At 9.8 Percent; Could Stall
Recovery.

Someone got really hot in the last year!

Did. She. Ever.

SHBStore (9.7) is SMOKIN HOT all of a fucking sudden!

And popular as hell. (no shit)

I want her. Bad. Really, really, REALLY FUCKING BAD.

Ray



105

Meet my one true lust, and my first EL-II. With no clue on how to escalate to L-III, I
decided to park in the friend zone until I figured out what to do, because this was a level of want
I had never experienced. Once I got over the initial shock, however, I decided to make the EL-II
convincing, so as not to blow my cover. This resulted in my unintentionally stumbling upon
numerous PUA techniques, of which I couldnt help but notice the efficacy, given the OTLs
responses to them, particularly the time I just ignored her, only to have her leaving notes for me
until I crumbled. The Battle of Kate was not a true battle; from day one, in many ways, this
was Mortal Kombat, with no-holds-barred. Such is life when one is young, hot, and living on
the upper east side of Manhattan.


I LOVE this woman now more than ever, even when I wound up in a psych ER for
suicidal gestures after she finally crushed my heart. This love, however, is not sexual shes
forty-fucking-three! but rather, for the most amazing bootcamp ever. If Kate was the Persian
army crushing the Spartans at Thermopylae, the OTL was Moses, delivering the Ten Seduction
Commandments. The Battle of Kate may have set the seduction community in motion, but
this is the target who schooled me so thoroughly, that she set the table for The Battle of Kate. At
the time, I wondered how I ever got so far with Kate, but now that I see, very clearly, why I was
making such progress, Im more amazed that I stalled. Had I not still been recovering from the
suicidal gestures when I met Kate, I doubt I ever would have.

Relative to current industry prices, the OTLs bootcamp value on the open market
today is around $25,000.00 a weekend, for each of a class of four to eight. She is easily the most
PUA-immune female I have ever known, who would teach me every last thing I would need to
know to reach The Battle of Kate.

Report-0.30-Coming-Of-Age-And-My-First-EL-II-(Full-Text)


106
Field Report Thirty-One:
The Fine Art Of Supplication

Chew on this the next time you refuse a favor, in the name of being alpha:

DATE: J uly 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Supplicated To SHBStore +her HBSis.
NOW PLAYING: Flashdance: What A Feeling, by Irene Cara
IN THE NEWS: Mondale Expected To Cruise To Nomination
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Hearts/Queen of Hearts

SHBStore has an HBSis! (8.6). She's been trying to hook us up, but I pretend she's not.
SHBStore knows I want her -- she thinks every guy wants her, probably because every
guy does want her -- and wants to pawn me off on her sis, which is a compliment, but
not the one I'mlooking for. SHBStore has a boyfriend, ItalianDude, so she's temporarily
off the market, but that's not gonna last. He's a working stiff fromAstoria she's gonna
tire of soon.

SHBStore comes up to me and says hi, so I know something's up since she usually waits
for me to say something first. We talk and she knows I'mgoing out skating for the day,
so she asks me to pick her up a pair of tickets to the J ackson Browne concert in August
for her and her sis (HB8.5). I'mlike sure, no problem, and she gives me the money for
two tickets. I'mnot into J ackson Browne myself, but he's a friend of
"BRUUUUUUCE!" so she just has to see himperform. I come back with some really
good seats for her so she's psyched. Thought about buying an extra ticket for myself but
couldn't think of a reason to go. Ray


A beautiful, risk-free opportunity. The high-risk approach involves a third ticket, and
potential threesome with a pair of hot sisters. Perhaps PUACousin has one like that in his target-
history.


I wish One Night At McCools had been made earlier. The vultures, including me,
had already begun circling the true love of this loyal, yet doomed, boyfriend. The upper east
sides slickest teenagers were about to spring into action, against each other. The ending of Next
of Kin was more orderly.

Report-0.31-The-Fine-Art-Of-Supplication-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Two:
Never Supplicate.Unless It Works!

No wonder the prisoners dilemma is so effective at getting men to betray each other:

DATE: August 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR: I'mA Hottie's Hero! Now Her SIS Wants Me!
NOW PLAYING: Running On Empty, by Jackson Browne
IN THE NEWS: Recession Shows Signs Of Ending
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Hearts/Queen of Hearts

SHBStore said she loves me now, but she didn't mean it that way. Looks like that little
favor I did for her a few months ago just paid off BIG. Not big enough!

The J ackson Browne concert was last night (whoopie). It seems the seats were really
good, and then Browne brought out a special guest: BRUUUUUUUCEE!!!!!
SHBStore was swooning when she told me about this concert. She is like SO into Bruce
and his music (I'mnot), and couldn't stop (or start!) thanking me enough for getting the
tickets. Should have gotten that third ticket. Her sis is really into me. Sent tons of
signals, even dropped me a note asking where I was, and when I'd be around next. Not
too subtle.

Ray


Her sis was hot, but I was falling ridiculously in love with the OTL. No go. Readers
may want to fuck the similarly-situated sister once prior to remaining true to their oneitis.


No change. Never settle. Do, however, note that your skillz just yielded an HB8.6,
on a silver platter.

Report-0.32-Never-Supplicate...Unless-It-WORKS!-(Full-Text)


108
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Three:
Girls Girls Girls!!!

Seniors rule:

DATE: September 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Girls Girls Girls. HOT GIRLS!!!
NOW PLAYING: Maniac, by Michael Sambello
IN THE NEWS: Orioles Favored To Win Series

Where do they come from? My god. So many targets, so little time. STILL not getting
laid, but it's just a matter of time by now. Getting too close, too often, with too many,
who are too hot for it not to.

School game went mad on Friday when SHBJ ulliard (9.9) turns up at the school,
wanting my locker! She like only comes in on Fridays and needed to share a locker, so
she picks me. WTF? I'mlike sure (she's an SHB), give her the combo, and split. I don't
use the locker much myself so it's cool. I'ma senior now so it's like being teen royalty:
adults like college-bound graduates, the younger kids don't mess with you, and every
SHB in the school checks you out. Like this one.

Take SHBJ ulliard to lunch (my regular spot is right below J ulliard, around the corner)
and she tells me she's a ballerina. Girl is fucking FIVE-ALARM HOT, never seen one
like that, and limber as shit. She knows she's hot and acts nice but she's gotta be
breaking hearts somehow. And she's into me! I can't believe this: I already got my plate
full with SHBStore getting all serious, still see SHBLunch, and now THIS!!

I head home and catch up with SHBStore and her latest drama with ItalianDude, and
they're officially broken up. Great! I figure wtf she's just an LJ BF so I tell SHBStore
about SHBJ ulliard, and suddenly she's like glowing towards me, seeing me "in love"
with the ballerina. Yeah, my DICK is in love, and maybe I like her but I just met the
chick. Better start going to school on Fridays.

Didn't take long for other guys to go for SHBStore. There's MechanicDude, who I've
known since age ten, GuitarDude, a loner I've known since thirteen, and his older
brother, SpanishDude, who used to come over to my apartment since first grade,
ThugDude, a wannabe gang member who's been kicked out of prep schools, a few
StoreDudes she doesn't take seriously, and about half of the guys I've ever met. Half my
friends probably want her too since they see her on their way to my place.

I got all this competition for SHBStore but I also get all this time with her so I'm
thinking I have a shot, especially since I told her about SHBJ ulliard. SHBStore is froma
poor family (by upper east side standards), and might have felt outclassed by her "rival."


109
But fuck, she rejected me by not doing anything even when she knows I want her. She's
confused as all hell and trying every dish on the menu, driving us all insane. The guys
are fighting for her, but we're not fighting each other because there's too much history
here for a chick to destroy. We're like may the best man win and try to play fair or not
get caught if we don't.

The adults are all convinced I'mgonna wind up married to SHBStore, but I don't see it.
If she wanted to go there with me we'd already be en route. She's just fucking around
and it's annoying as hell.

Now if only I could figure out how I got SHBJ ulliard to open me I could get rich selling
it.

Ray


My Kate-negative lifestyle bites me in the ass. I didnt even know what Julliard was.


Once again:

What the fuck was I thinking?

She went to Julliard. Julliard!!! The OTL was THAT sexy; I actually do not regret
blowing off the live Julliard target for her, or maybe I tell myself that to preserve my sanity.
McCools was standing-room-only at this point.

Report-0.33-Girls-Girls-Girls!!!-(Full-Text)


110
Lesson Nine:
Treat Your Soulmate Like A Soulmate

In 29 Reasons, I said to treat your soulmate like a slut. After further review, I
reverse. The world is full of actual sluts that you can treat like sluts. I could easily have done
that with SHBLapdance. Kate was not a loss, a failure, or a subtraction of any kind. She was a
layer above my target-roster, the one I wanted to marry. We resolved within months, which left
me years to be a cynical, feral, results-oriented PUA. I courted Kate specifically because she
wasnt a slut, and refused to make a move on her at The Battle of Kate, because I wanted her to
always want me, not just during a booty call. If it turns out she didnt want to fuck me at The
Battle of Kate, that alone validates my decision not to offend her. Despite the apparent
opportunity, had she really wanted to fuck me, she would have. Better advice would have been
this:

Dont treat a slut as if she were your soulmate.

In other words: avoid the one special hookup.

Results-Oriented vs. Target-Oriented Game

Now for a more complete treatment of this all-important concept for measuring
results, and degree-of-difficulty:

1. Super-elites claim to want men who care about them as more than just
another conquest, yet this is misleading, because

2. Unless they are mutually attracted, the men who do care about her as more
than just another conquest find their feelings trivialized and discouraged as
"wrong," and are told to continue waiting for the Magic Hottie.

3. A man then finds a live target, and fucks her, but doesn't care about her as
more than just another conquest, because the women he did care about that
way, didn't want him. Further, his conquests didn't seem to care one way or
the other.

I had always suspected little difference between the stereotypical "AFC" and "PUA,"
and the post-mortem which led to this text finally spit out the answer, now as obvious to me as it
used to be elusive:

Target-oriented "AFCs" get inferior results with superior targets.

Results-oriented "PUAs" get superior results with inferior targets.



111
The "skillz" differential between the two types is minimal. The "PUA" looks for
results, while the "AFC" seeks his soulmate. The "PUA" will get laid more often, and more
easily, with the RHC, but the "AFC" will aim for an LTR or marriage with a super-elite. This
was my critical error in 29 Reasons: I had treated Kate and other targets as equals, when they
werent. The reason I fucked DupliKates, but not Kate, had nothing to do with becoming a
PUA, other than my target-roster was much larger, consisted only of live targets, and because
Kate was a super-elite, and the typical RHC was not. A PUA can easily be fooled if he fails
as an AFC with a super-elite, then fucks an RHC as a PUA, without realizing his
improvement in results was directly correlated to a downgrade in target-quality.

Should We Game Our Designated-Soulmates?

Its a tough call. When Kate was just another RHC to me, I did game her, and she
reacted predictably, according to ASF theory. She even continued this predictable reaction,
when she began losing interest after I crumbled into AFC oneitis, conduct which, on the
surface, would make her appear like quite the bitch. I do know that most of my initial post-
mortem had me equating PUA behavior with being cool, and Kate-positive, yet now I see
things much differently, with the key analysis that fucking Kate wouldnt have led to marriage,
or even much of an LTR. Kate rejected me because she didnt want commitment, something
rather alien to men in 1985.

I had plenty of chances to continue presenting as a PUA to Kate, but knew it was an
unsustainable act, one my male friends could easily see through. Dropping the act, rather than
the male friends (most of whom were also gaming Kate and using my intel to do it), was the
actual mistake, because I was wrong when I thought I couldnt adopt the new cool persona.
With the keg party, I could have invited everyone she knew, and not her, could have used
SHBLapdance as an L-III pivot, or could have run social-butterfly game, and had Kate
convinced I was going to fuck someone else later that night. It is this analysis which best
explains the double-isolation, as if Kate needed to check up on me, to see if I was going to fuck
someone else, since she knew no one in my dorm, and wouldnt have been able to find out on her
own.

Sequencing And The VCABM

The VCABM is properly sequenced. It allows for a period of AFC idealism, during
which the soulmate-search is combined with a world-class bootcamp, from the very soulmate-
targets themselves, who then decide if you will ever need the PUA skillz they impart, from
your gaming them, and them revealing their tactics with their reactions. The OTL and I never
had to fuck for me to learn what would work with her if I met her cold, and my target had no
benefit of an EL-II, nor did I have to consummate The Battle of Kate to understand the
significance of the isolation of a super-elite I had inexplicably achieved. For the PUA, a
teachable moment occurs when he outperforms his expectations, in a manner he knows is
reproducible, like I had with NHBSkates, or even the Jackson Browne concert. These epiphanies


112
will form the basis of ones grasp of PUA theory, as they begin to notice what works, what
does not, and make canned material out of the former, for future mass-deployment.

The ultimate challenge-fox frame for the VCABM is to let your Kate know you
expect to be rejected for marriage, are at the tail end of your VCABM, and look forward to life
as a feral PUA. Kate wouldnt have nibbled, but even most super-elites, particularly the OTL
would have. The OTL would have sought a middle-ground, like she may have with her sister, or
would have just pivoted for me until nature delivered an alternative. What made her PUA-
immune also made her generous when it came to the men in her life. She did not want me in an
AFC bodycount, and only wanted my attention on her, to the extent I was in the running. She
also didnt want me any more or less because of her sisters, or anyone elses, opinion of me.
Bypassing the VCABM obliterates the best EL-II Ive ever had, and all the theory that came with
it, which is why I endorse the sequence, and probably why I chose this path at the time. It just
made sense.

Another advantage of the VCABM over the CABM, is sequencing. The VCABM is
structured for maximum long-term efficiency, despite its seemingly endless, protracted nature.
When I inform the reader that he will not peak until as many as fifteen years after he begins his
VCABM, he may wonder if the effort is worth it, but considering that my first empty-netter
(NHBSkates) came eighteen months after my first kiss, and only four months after I had emerged
from my first lifestyle isolation, that was hardly slow. Equally strong was my progress in the
following eighteen months, and the eighteen months after that. Despite my early failure as an
AFC, even to the tail end of a very protracted soulmate-search, it is the VCABM which would
ultimately strengthen the results-oriented game I would run thereafter, all because my AFC
skillz would repeatedly separate me from other PUAs. No matter how strong my game,
targets would still view me as nice, something they could prove by making me crumble,
indicating that challenge fox game may not be such a bad thing with your designated-soulmates.

As also became clear in late 1983, the dual purpose of the VCABM was beginning to
merge, because my designated-soulmate became clear. In more ways than one, the competition
was stiff. The OTL was a walking overdose of pharmaceutical-grade women, but that was
useful for strengthening my women-immunity. Because I was so deep in an EL-II with super-
elite OTL, other targets, even SHBJulliard, lost all power over me. The VCABM allowed me to
exhaust all winning chances, absorb her amazing knowledge of game, and just relate to her, as
much more than a sex object. I lusted after her like no other, and liked her more than any other,
but had not yet met Kate, so I misread my very strong affection as love, mainly because I had
seriously misread the situation, which caused me to misread the target. In one short summer, we
had gone from distant acquaintances to very close friends, to the point where the kibitzers were
favoring me to marry her, even though I knew my real chances were slim, at best.

The "community," makes a rapid transformation the holy grail, yet the unhurried
nature of the VCABM allows for a much richer learning experience, with vastly superior,
marriage-worthy targets. I could have spent six months at a place like The West End before


113
finding a cheap imitation of the OTL, who, like most soulmate-worthy women, wasn't even
going to bars when I met her. Instead of calculating every move, and "nexting" her if she didn't
get with the program, my initial acceptance of the EL-II allowed our Emo connection to flourish
in a way not possible once two people are fucking. This was toxic to my results-oriented game,
but it didnt have to be; that was my decision. I do wonder what might have happened had I
hooked up with SHBJulliard, particularly if I had begun bringing her around the neighborhood,
but my inner PUA was embryonic. Yet another analysis has me concluding that the OTL
wanted me hooked on her, while she made up her mind, out of sheer efficiency, which supports
the idea that she might have fucked me, had SHBJ ulliard become a genuine threat for my
attention.

Designating Your Soulmate

The VCABM "solves" the incompatibility between target- and results-orientation,
about the only way one can, with a few simple rules:

1. A soulmate is designated, by a target-oriented "AFC."

2. She is courted, with "AFC" or "PUA" tactics as "fair game."

3. If she accepts the courtship, she becomes a girlfriend, with an eye towards
marriage.

4. If she rejects the courtship, he becomes a feral, results-oriented "PUA,"
never looks back, and terminates the VCABM.

This way, your target knows you have chosen her, and are prepared to become a
reluctant PUA, forever implored to give women a chance, even if you already had, and the one
who had the chance, passed. Youll just be told that you chose the wrong woman, as if your
true feelings were just plain wrong wrong, I tell ya and as if she couldnt have been the one
who erred. While I respect Kates right to reject me, that doesnt make her correct for doing so.
It is possible that I was right, and she was wrong, and, in many cases, it is the female who makes
the mistake, as I believe the OTL did with me. Had the OTL married me, Kate would never have
gotten anywhere with me, without an extremely public, and extremely slutty, pursuit that was not
her style. Even without the OTL, I made Kate work terribly for my attention, just to ensure that
she was serious; if not, I had a 4.0 to work on, and this gave me a great deal of leverage. In the
end, however, our conflicting views on marriage doomed whatever future we might have had,
and life went on, with Kate marrying herself, and living happily ever after, and with me marrying
this text, and living profitably ever after.

A properly sequenced VCABM will find its two components feeding off each other.
As your skillz improve, your target-quality will follow, which will lead to further
improvement, even better targets, and even more improvement, until the upward spiral has you


114
at your Battle of Kate. I certainly didnt seem like much of a PUA, as I was enduring total
humiliation at the hands of the OTL, and spending months in lifestyle isolation, several times,
yet my live targets were hall-of-fame quality, and I was making substantial progress with each,
while nested comfortably in my MLTR, with several Tens of Clubs as sure things, in the event I
ever grew desperate to prematurely terminate the VCABM.

Soulmate-Targets ARE Different

In his marketing copy, Mystery once asked his potential customers:

What if you couldnever have your heart broken again?

It means youll game your OTL and your Kate, not marry either, even if you
fuck them, and will never have an EL-II with either. It means youll find that one special
hookup, from your L-III target-pool, probably someone like SHBPrep, or SHBDye, and youll
have to live with her. Id add SHBHippie to this list, but losing her after fucking her would have
been heartbreaking.

Soulmate game is rough. Lose it, and you could very well lose it, as I almost did
twice, vowing never again to risk such intensity, particularly over a DupliKate. Most daunting of
all you'll have to deal with, beyond the super-high intensity of playing for keeps against a super-
elite, is that they, not you, will determine the outcome of the VCABM, just like you, not them,
will determine whether or not you truly love them.

The Ray Effect

So many of my past targets have remained single, or become lesbians, that I have to
wonder if I played a role in this, and I do believe I have. Even the OTL didnt marry until her
mid-thirties, while Kate appears to be Single4Life, and the Third and Fourth Aces are now
officially spinsters. The Ray Effect, may be genuine, caused by my having raised their
expectations to an impossible standard, a reverse DupliKate dynamic. With Kate, I doubt any
other man would have gone as over-the-top as I did with her. Kate may not have wanted me, and
probably never thought shed be loved to the degree she was by me, but once she had seen that
level of devotion, settling for less, even with a man she loved herself, just wouldnt do. This
could also be considered a cousin of the bidding up the boyfriend tactic mentioned in my
earlier works. The sheer egoism inherent in this theory is such that Im reticent to embrace it, yet
I cannot deny the empirical evidence. Intentional use of the Ray Effect forms the basis for the
self-explanatory Urkel game, and the tactic could be renamed the Urkel effect, due to the
similarities in intensity and futility of pursuit.



115
The Bottom Line

Think of your designated-soulmate as an addition to your PUA target-roster, and
youll do fine. Of the PUA tactics, reluctant-PUA and challenge fox seem advisable, if for no
other reason than to determine your standing, but I would shy away from sexual aggression
(kino), or the darkside tactics, like negs. Indirect game allows for PUA pursuit of your
soulmate-target, but keep in mind that The Battle of Kate was engineered in classic community
fashion, using the party to establish isolation, and reading the IOI that led to The Battle of Kate.
All is fair in love and war, as long as your intentions are pure. Buying myself a third ticket for
Jackson Browne, and surprising the OTL and her sister would have been equally fair, even if
equally transparent; for all I know, they were hoping I would do this, another example of how
differently the genders play this game.

I do wish Kate had grasped that she was my final soulmate-target, and that the
marriage-minded AFC I presented as to her was going to perish if rejected, and morph into the
feral PUA from whom she would separate. Im assuming her decision was thought-out, given
the relative length of our very intense EL-II, so Im not inclined to question it, nor was it Kates
duty to make me happy. I expected her to act out of self-interest, when weighing commitment,
because I didnt want her regretting fucking me, if that is what she chose. That sourced my
restraint at The Battle of Kate, where I treated my soulmate-target, not as a slut, but as a
soulmate. While this may have been mistaken here, sexual restraint is a good thing, as I would
learn many times down the road, in situations where making a move would have been
inadvisable.

Lesson-Nine-Treat-Your-Soulmate-Like-A-Soulmate-(Full-Text)


116
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Four:
SHB In Da House

Some venues become surprisingly trendy:

DATE: November 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FU++: SHBStore drops by for chat with MomWTF!?
NOW PLAYING: Maneater, by Hall & Oates
IN THE NEWS: Reagan Popularity Soars On Eve Of Reelection Bid

Another Friday, another drunk visit fromSHBStore, another LONG chat with Mom,
another missed opportunity! I actually stayed home LAST week to see if I'd catch her
and felt like a fucking FOOL! Not gonna wait on this chick on a Friday (I bowl on
Saturdays in a league so this is my night out, but I get up early like at 9:00), so I hit up
some bars with PhysicsDude. We didn't get carded but no one talked to us so it's stupid.
Meanwhile, SHBStore is in my apartment and she's talking to my MOM!

Momscoops me on SHBStore's love-life drama. ItalianDude is history for now (their
third "breakup"), and she's talking up all these other guys, but not making up her mind.
They had a nice chat and she cut out around 11:00 p.m. due to her curfew. This shit is
SO fucked up: I've had this girl alone in my bedroom many times, with her dressed hot
as hell (short-shorts, tank top), lying three fucking feet fromme, and still we do nothing.
We DRINK together sometimes and still NOTHING. She smiles wide whenever she
sees me and still NOTHING!! Okay I get it, rejected, so why are we so fucking
CLOSE! It's like she's my soulmate but she's not. It's all sex with her, and all I really
want for her even if I marry her it would be for the sex first and she probably knows that
too but doesn't seemto care. She's not a tease but she can't enter a roomwithout turning
every guy on, so it's like she is. What the hell do I DO with this chick? -- Ray


My own kitchen turns up the hottest LI-venue in Manhattan. Eeek!!!


This is like one of those chess positions where you know theres a checkmate in there
somewhere, but cannot find it. If she didnt want me, she wouldnt have risked isolating to my
apartment, with two hours to fuck prior to curfew. I never gave her a reason to take the L-III
plunge, in part because I forgot certain basics, like showing up in my own home! Discuss this
chapter on our forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7244-Bettor-Off-
Single-Field-Report-0.34-SHB-In-Da-House-(Full-Text)


117
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Five:
Wild Night At The Underage Bar

As the EL-II with the OTL intensified, I escaped for a week or so to upstate New
York, to visit PhysicsDude, and to check out my future campus:

DATE: November 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Wild Night At Underage College Bar
NOW PLAYING: Say Say Say, by Paul McCartney and Michael J ackson
IN THE NEWS: Subway Crime Soars
TARGET CARD: Ten Of Hearts

Hit the BIG LEAGUES tonight: COLLEGE!!

Posting fromupstate NY, where I'mstaying with PhysicsDude for a few to get away
fromSHBStore, who I want to fucking MARRY, or just fuck. In fuck-marry-kill, I'd
fuck her, marry her, then kill myself since everything else would be anticlimactic.

So I hit up this really cool bar near campus, packed with HBs, SHBs, UGs, tons of guys,
and everyone's getting smashed. No carding or anything, I drink a few Long Island Ice
Teas, and close the joint. WTF why not I don't got classes! Cafeteria is loaded with
SHBs, looks like a great place to meet one. Bars are cool too but that's like dumpster-
diving for a wife. SHBStore never goes to bars, but drinks with me a lot. Says she hates
being hit on all the time yeah right that's why she's got a dozen of us spellbound.

Get back to PhysicsDude's room, and he's like Mr. Maturity now, schooling me on
college life, and it's cool because he's doing well and likes it a lot. Got laid a few times
he said, but they were drunk NHBs. Sounds like his first but I didn't ask. Had my DICK
GRABBED in the bar by HBPlump (8.2), who'd be an SHB if she lost 20 lbs., but
nothing compared to SHBStore. At the dorm, I land in front of the TV with a really-
drunk NHBEasy (6.2), and invite her for a greasy breakfast so she doesn't throw up or
wake up hungover. Never go to bed drunk on an empty stomach! We get some food
and she's all over me with the kino there and back. Could have fucked her in the lounge
but she's not in my league. Spent most of the days talking to FunDude, a slacker who
never seemed to have class. Why bother going if you're not going to capitalize? Life is
fun up there, but it's costly, and not all about drinking.

Got NHBEasy's #on Long Island and a promise to meet up. Right. Like there isn't
enough shit going on in my life.

Ray

p.s. -- money is cool again. Momwon a few grand while I was away.



118

My first successful night running bar game (SHBPrep was a fluke), because I just did
the opposite of what Id done at The West End. I began to get it, and could have scored nicely,
absent my oneitis. I wound up partially scoring into an empty net, just for the target-practice.
This glimpse of my future was encouraging, since it said that I could bide my time with in L-I
venues, while awaiting the soulmate I would meet naturally.


This evening obliterated my fear of L-I venues. Since I had seen the same kids in the
dorm, I understood college bar game better than at The West End, which was really a glorified
high-school bar. This was just a random Thursday night, on a random campus, and it was target-
rich as hell. Even at the time, I realized I was playing it safe, by going for lower-value targets,
but thats what the bootcamp value of the VCABM is about. I certainly wasnt going to find my
soulmate in the underage bar, but I didnt mind having some fun there along the way.
Frustration with the OTL, and the direct combat of our EL-II, were awakening my inner PUA.

Report-0.35-Wild-Night-At-The-Underage-Bar-(Full-Text)


119
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Six:
Hollywoods Calling For The Movie Rights

Whoever said bros before hoes, was gay:

DATE: December 1983
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Flirting With 23 y/o SHBActress
NOW PLAYING: New Years Day, by U2
IN THE NEWS: Middle East Tensions Heat Up
TARGETCARD: Ace of Diamonds

Does it ever end? I hope not!

Fuck Studio 54: PhysicsDude's apartment is THE place to be in the Manhattan nightlife.
SHBs all over the place, all nice, many like to flirt, and nothing happens beyond that, but
it's fun. I think one of the Star Trek posse hooked up with PhysicsDude's SHBSis. If
so, props to him; this is like the last SHB on the planet I have a chance with, something
she likes to remind me of fromtime to time. We tolerate each other with the occasional
sneer.

Now that PhysicsDude is off at college, his momrented his room...to an SHB!! He
sleeps in the living room when he's home fromschool, and she sleeps in his bed! I
thought I had it bad with SHBStore, but this is like 1000 times worse for himI'msure.

My dad always flirted with SHBs so I guess this comes fromhim. A lot of evenings
SHBActress (9.6) comes home just before Star Trek, and we have a running gag:

<SHBActress shuts door, checks for messages>

ME: Hollywood called!

She just smiles and laughs every time, even after a dozen times. She's fromout of town,
trying to make it, seems pretty serious. And so fucking hot. Nice to all of us, she knows
we'd fuck her in a second and likes the fan club I think. Heck of a thing to run into while
waiting for Star Trek to come on Channel 11. PhysicsDude's sis has a bunch of S/HB
friends who come in and out, and bug us when they're bored and we're playing chess.
They remind us how they hate geeks and how UNCOOL we are. So much fun!

Ray


PhysicsDude was quite the little AMOG. The previous winter, he invited me to a
holiday gathering with his family, and his pharmaceutical-grade cousin. Women-addicted teen


120
that I was, I made a fool of myself, though she seemed more amused than offended, particularly
by the ego boost, but PhysicsDude repeatedly reminded me of how inappropriate I was. The
underlying premise, of course, was that I was somehow unworthy, since any pursuit would have
been labeled this way. If she turns up ten years later in a shit marriage, well, there was no way to
prevent that. This time, however, PhysicsDude had no standing to AMOG me, but did so
anyway, because, as he later admitted, he wanted her for himself.


What is exceptionally fascinating here is that PhysicsDudes EL-II with SHBActress
was like mine with the OTL, only he was living with her (on his breaks). Once he was done
with her, he nailed a super-elite classmate of the OTLs, who looked almost exactly like her!
This is yet another data point in support of the VCABM, because PhysicsDudes was every bit as
brutal as mine, as indicated by his infamous coffee-shop meltdown (he was smart enough to
have it in front of me, not his target).

As for the redux, all I had to do here was wait for PhysicsDude to go to the store,
leaving us in fifteen minutes of isolation:

ME: Hope the Hollywood-calling thing doesnt bother you. I mean it
well.

HER: Oh, I know! Its funny!

ME: You never know when they might call. I guess they really do just call
you, dont they? They say not to call them.

HER: Yep. One call.

ME: I know. Ive seen it happen. My schools full of actors. Some of
them do soaps and others do films.

HER: Really!? Thats amazing! Anyone famous?

ME: Not really. My cousins girlfriend just did a movie and shes kinda
known, but Ive never seen her work. Diane something or other.

HER: Diane Lane? Shes great!

ME: I wouldnt know. Shes into my cousin, not me. Hes like this
ladykiller. Outdid himself with her. Had holiday dinners with them
the last few years but thats it.



121
HER: Holy shit!! Where do you live?

ME: <In a place PhysicsDudes Mom cant afford>. Not too far from here.
Cousin lives a few blocks away, and Im a half-mile further down
from him. Theres another kid who was on a soap a while back and
we go on his go-sees, but he only got a TV movie.

HER: I hate auditions!

ME: Im also related to <major celebrity>.

HER: No fucking way!

ME; Yeah. Theyre really just normal people, very cool. And shy! The
public scares them. I think I hear PhysicsDude. Nice chatting with
you.

Game over. Until the next isolation:

ME: Any luck yet?

HER: No. I hate Manhattan!

ME: I dont know if itll help, and I dont want PhysicsDude to get the
wrong idea, so if you say no its cool, but Id be willing to introduce
you to my cousin, so you could meet Diane, and you can play a prank
on him in the process.

HER: Im in. When?

ME: Any night were playing chess here, just walk out, but drop
something on the kitchen floor first. Then meet me at Elaines fifteen
minutes later.

HER: Youre slick.

ME: And then some. I think you and my cousin would get along. If not,
he knows Eddie Van Halen. Hes a wannabe rockstar.

Ah, to rewrite my past! The funny thing is, this was possible, with the only risk that
shed complain to PhysicsDude. We would isolate occasionally, and chit-chat. By framing it as
her doing me a favor against my cousin, we get plausible deniability, and she gets industry
connections, without any guarantees, due to the informality. The pretext of showing her off to


122
PUACousin protects her reputation, and her obvious motive for breaking in to acting.
PhysicsDude did not move in these circles, and had no concept of SHBActresss true nature, the
way I did. Mom had schooled me on her type at a very early age.

After further review, I wouldnt have been in this situation, as Id have terminated the
friendship with PhysicsDude over the holiday incident, but I took for granted the value of
having a male L-II substitute for the time I had yet to learn to spend with super-elites (in 1982).
By here, however, I was in my own EL-II with the OTL.

Readers who find themselves similarly-situated to what I experienced with the great
cousin might be able to learn from my mistake of omission:

ME: <ring> Hello.

HIM: Ray! Whats up?

ME: How ya doin?

HIM: Not bad. You?

ME: Pretty good.

HIM: Good! Long time no hear!

ME: Yeah, imagine that.

HIM: Youre not mad over that thing with my cousin are you?

ME: Not at all. Why would I waste time on anger?

HIM: Cool. Didnt want any tension.

ME: No sweat. Really, its no big deal. It was a huge mistake on my
part.

HIM: Glad you realized that. Didnt want you thinking I was mad.

ME: Hadnt given it a thought really. So whyd you call?

HIM: Well, thought we could play chess outside and then watch Star Trek.
Weathers nice.

ME: No thanks.


123

HIM: You sure? Ive been practicing!

ME: Yep. Thanks for the offer though.

HIM: Are you sure youre not mad? We havent talked since.

ME: Im not mad at all. Wouldnt waste the time.

HIM: So you dont want to talk to me anymore?

ME: Nope.

HIM: So you are mad. Thats a shame.

ME: To you, maybe. Im just correcting a mistake. Besides, if Im such a
piece of shit, why are you calling me?

HIM: Youre not a piece of shit. You just behaved badly with my cousin.
When you took the family pic and zoomed the camera in on my cousin
and her friend, it was just too obvious.

ME: So youre saying if Im a good boy from here on out, youll forgive
me. Thats very nice of you. If I ever give a shit, Ill be grateful.

HIM: Wow, youre getting an attitude.

ME: Yeah, I know, its like my worst trait.

HIM: My cousin didnt come over to be hit on by you.

ME: Right. So if we dont hang out, itll never happen again. Problem
solved.

HIM: Why do you go from one extreme to the next?

ME: Why do you think I have to let you sit in judgment of me? You dont
like what I did, fine. I dont like the underlying assumption that Im
some loser. You can call every situation wrong, and all that does is
keep the nice guys from hitting on her, while the jerks will tell you to
fuck off.

HIM: But youre not a jerk!


124

ME: If Im not a jerk you should want me hitting on your cousin.

HIM: She has a boyfriend.

ME: Whens the wedding?

HIM: Oh come on.

ME: Look I dont really give a fuck what you or she thinks of me. Since I
dont want to talk to you again, Ill make it easy for you. Ill talk to
you again after my first date with your cousin.

HIM: I guess we wont be talking then.

ME: Like we havent for four months. <click>

The date with your cousin thing is to get rid of him, by letting him win, without
really winning, since hed assume I were obsessed with her. Even better PUA approaches
were available, but I made use of none of them, out of fear of offending my host. The free time
Id have gained would have eliminated this crutch, who gobbled up more of my prime than any
other bro. He was a good friend, but a horrible wing, even if he did smooth my transition to
college, and cause me to select the venue that would host The Battle of Kate.

Report-0.36-Hollywood-s-Calling-For-The-Movie-Rights-(Full)


125
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Seven:
Yes, You Have A Car, And Yes, It Has A Horn

Suicidal gestures tend to preclude fond memories. Most of the time:

DATE: J anuary 1984
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FU: MechanicDude Wins
NOW PLAYING: Jump, by Van Halen
IN THE NEWS: Orwell Revisited Now That 1984 Is Reality

SHBStore has made up her mind.

It's MechanicDude. Fucker drives a Lamborghini. How the fuck amI supposed to
compete with THAT?

Dude also has some wit. He's walking with SHBStore and someone notices her fromhis
car:

HIM: <honk!>

MD: <walks over> Yes, you have a car, and yes, it has a horn!

She MELTS when she's telling me this, and that was just the aftershock. He's a nice
guy, but she'll eat him alive.

I tried to play it cool, but could have done better. She could tell I wasn't thrilled. Said
they wouldn't make it three months.

Ray

p.s. had a really cool New Year's Party with BowlingDude at some home in J ersey.


My fondest memory of the OTL, but at the time, all I could think about was
MechanicDude. If only I had remained content with the EL-II. To even be in the running was a
high honor. It was becoming clear that I may very well have found my Magic Hottie.



126

My real mistake here was one made by almost every man. To use Boolean construct:

1. I love you; therefore
2. I want you.

Even the OTL would have had problem with this curveball:

ME: I am so deeply in love with you its not fucking funny.

HER: I feel so bad I dont feel the same about you, but youre such a good
friend.

ME: Oh I know! Its great!

HER: Um, arent you supposed to be heartbroken or something like that?

ME: Why? Youre a great friend!

HER: But you want more!

ME: I want lots of things I cant have. I like to focus on what I do have.
If youre going to reject me, all chasing you would do is ruin a great
friendship!

HER: Wow! I wish more guys were like that.

ME: Glad I could make your wish come true. Besides, I can get sex
anywhere. Love is about so much more than sex.

Around this point, shed have just jumped me:

HER: Is this some type of reverse-psychology trick? Its not gonna work.

ME: Which means well still be friends! Honest, I dont look for love and
sex in the same place.

HER: Thats a lonely way to live. Why dont you just love someone else?

ME: If only it were that easy. I dont want to settle, and I dont want to
pester you, so I just love you from a distance, and enjoy your company


127
when youre around. Look at how well weve been getting along in
the five months since I fell for you? Why ruin it?

HER: Youre weird.

ME: Weird people need love too!

Try this on someone you dont love if you just want to test it out, while giving a good
mindfuck.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?11682-Field-Report-0.37-
Yes-You-Have-A-Car-And-Yes-It-Has-A-Horn-(Full-Text)


128
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Eight:
Treat Your Soulmate Like A Golddigging Whore

Nothing beats firsthand instruction in lifestyle game:

DATE: February, 1984
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: FR: MechanicDude Bites The Dust
NOW PLAYING: Talking In Your Sleep, by The Romantics
IN THE NEWS: Thriller AlbumSets Records

SHBStore got bored with the Lamborghini, and has dumped MechanicDude. For
GuitarDude. Now it's ON. Van Halen's coming to town at the end of March, and they
can't afford it. I can! -- Ray


My inner PUA was now AMOGing my inner AFC. I had three options:

1. Do nothing.

2. Get backstage passes from PUACousin, lose her to him or the band itself.

3. Purchase tickets from ScalperDude.

I chose the third, suddenly emerging two lengths in front, like a horse cutting the
corner on the far turn, as his main rival (or partner in crime) takes the rest of the field wide,
entering the lane. Option #2 was prima facie suicide, and never considered, while #1 was
neutral.


PUA tactics aside (SHBJulliard, etc.), one must ask: would she have fucked me for
the ticket? Sadly, I must conclude she would have, although I never once dreamed of putting
this to the test, which I could have done just by letting her know I had the ticket, and leaving it to
her to earn it, as most PUAs would have done.

Report-0.38-Treat-Your-Soulmate-Like-A-Golddigging-Whore


129
Field Report Zero Point Thirty-Nine:
Love Conquers Nothing

Give women a chance, the DupliKates cried:

DATE: 01 Mar 1984 14:17:26 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 16)
SUBJ ECT: FU+++: Told SHBStore I Love Her.
NOW PLAYING: Here Comes The Rain Again, by The Eurhythmics
IN THE NEWS: Hart Surges As Mondale Fades

There's a background here that's pretty good but then I totally fucked it up. The fucking
Van Halen concert is like the biggest fucking drama EVER thanks to SHBStore. Been
falling for her for like EVER so I formalized it today, knowing she didn't want to hear it,
but I wanted to say it anyway. <heartbreak>

She HAD to know. She's been all nice to me over this concert shit, but MechanicDude
fucked me up with a curveball. I couldn't believe the fucker had the fucking nerve to
fucking ask me to switch my FUCKING seat with himso he could sit next to MY
FUCKING DATE! Like yeah if you got $300.00 and an SHB maybe we can talk. Like
I'mgonna sit in the greens or even GO to this stupid fucking band if SHBStore isn't
going. Don't give a shit about the money, but that was just disrespectful.

I tell SHBStore about the call, don't know if she's behind it, but I'mpissed. I'mlike "oh I
get it" and she's like "no, I'll go with you" but now I don't know what the hell is up.
Only one way to stop all this shit so I just spill my guts today. She reacts SO nice, trying
to let me down, knows I went through hell to tell her (couldn't find any words barely,
love sucks), but she's with GuitarDude. This is so much bullshit, but she's almost like
relieved to get it overwith. Don't know if it's me or GuitarDude, but this one's over. Do
I still go to the concert with her? Don't think I can stand that. Ray


My entry for the poster child for AFC stupidity.


She would have fucked me for the ticket.

Report-0.39-Love-Conquers-Nothing-(Full-Text)


130
Field Report Zero Point Forty:
Eat Your Hart Out, Spitzer!

My concert plans suddenly changed:

DATE: 28 Mar 1984 22:35:37
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Fool's Mate Lay Takes My Virginity
NOW PLAYING: Wanna Be Startin' Somethin, by Michael J ackson
IN THE NEWS: Mondale Wins NY; J ackson Surprises For Second.
TARGET CARD; Ace of Diamonds

Finally DID THE DEED!! Totally unexpected, but not surprising given how it went
down. I just got lucky: right place, right time. Damned if this ever happens again, but
damn, once is enough! (for now)

Roll into Hart's HQ around 5:00 for the election-night coverage, and learn it's been
moved to a nearby hotel next to Grand Central. I roll over to the hotel, and there's a
party. Good thing I'mdecked out in my red silk shirt and black slacks, with loafers. J ust
got a haircut for the concert Friday, and looked sharp. OTL said my cut was fresh.

I sit there watching Hart get his ass whipped by Mondale, with no delegates out of 108
(he got 27 percent of the vote), and J ACKSON got one delegate, Mondale the other 107.
That is SO fucked up; this nomination process is fucking RIGGED. So I'mreally pissed
off, and I hit up the open bar for a screwdriver, and sit down next to SHBPolitics (9.9),
so angry I don't even notice her at first. Once I do, I say hi, comment on the shitty
results, and we begin chatting.

Turns out she's 25 (!), fromCT, and down for the evening, waiting on someone who was
already a half-hour late. I offer to keep her company until they get there, and we hit the
side of the dance floor. I'mgoing NUTS about now because this is the hottest fucking
chick I've ever seen in my LIFE! Wearing this gorgeous black silk dress, like something
off the cover of Cosmo. Moved like the sexiest wind I've ever felt. We walk back to the
bar after deciding not to dance, and our arms begin touching. Five minutes later the
sides of our legs are touching, and a minute or two after that we're making out. She gets
up and motions to me to tag along, and I'mnot gonna argue with her. Two minutes later
we're making out in the elevator, and fifteen minutes later I'mno longer a virgin. She
laughs at how quickly I came but I had it up again ten minutes later and lasted a little
longer the second time. Damn shit was like something out of a porn movie, but the
women in pornos aren't that hot. Can't wait for the concert!

Ray



131

Behold: the Magic Hottie.


On some level, SHBPolitics knew my heart had been smashed, and that I was ready to
fuck in a way nonvirgins are not. On another, the OTL would soon learn it had been temporarily
numbed.

Looking back, its not easy for a sexually inexperienced women addict to handle a
pharmaceutical-grade woman in L-III, but the Magic Hottie knows this, and finds it endearing,
while targets like the OTL and Kate lose patience, since they want the man to offer the magic.
This is why the first pair of Aces appears in this volume, and the second in Volume II.

Report-0.40-Eat-Your-Hart-out-Spitzer!


132
Field Report Zero Point Forty-One:
Eighth Avenue Freezeout

The bootcamp value was priceless, but life is not a bootcamp. This was a low blow:

DATE: 31 Mar 1984 21:15:18
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Van Halen Concert w/SHBStore
NOW PLAYING: Dance The Night Away, by Van Halen
IN THE NEWS: Mondale Supporters Urge Hart To Withdraw

SHBStore is now a 9.9:

Have you SEEN her?
SO fine and pretty
MOVING with style and ease
And I FEEL her
From ACROSS the room
Yes it's love, in the third degree

Make that the tenth degree. I thought SHBPolitics was hot, and she was. What turned
up for my date tonight was even sexier. Maybe it was Van Halen, it certainly wasn't me,
but she decked out for this one, while I just tossed on a regular outfit. No, wait, it was
DAVID LEE ROTH, her new fantasy. Was she angling for a trip backstage? No idea.

Pick her up around 5:30, say nothing. Hop in a cab to the Garden, say nothing. Take
her to dinner at Beefsteak Charlie's (better than its reputation), say nothing. We settle
into our seats around 7:10, I say nothing. MechanicDude, SpanishDude, and
GuitarDude all stop by, I step away to the bathroom, and they're gone when I get back. I
keep saying nothing.

Sit through the concert, no applause, a look of boredom on my face, like the concert, and
SHBStore, are a chore. They were, even if I do love her.

If she IS gonna fuck me, I don't want it to be because I dropped $250.00 on a date. Fuck
that.

Went for pizza afterwards. Said nothing. Took her back in a cab, dropped her off at her
home, said nothing. Went home. Cried. This was total heartbreak.

Ray



133

Still reeling from having lost my virginity to the wrong woman, for the wrong
reasons, and on a date which should have been cancelled by either of us, I punted, and, by doing
so, stumbled on the infamous freezeout technique. My motivation was mostly to avoid saying
anything Id regret, since this was her night, but I definitely didnt want to be there, beyond
padding my individual statistics, and be able to say that I dated her at least once. She was a
fine date, when I chose not to be, and, for all I know, was finally giving me that chance I had so
desperately wanted.


She deserved a better date that night.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7305-Bettor-Off-Single-Field
Report-0.41-Eighth-Avenue-Freezeout-(Full-Text)


134
Lesson Ten:
The Joy Of Wrongfooting

Wrongfooting game is easy to run. The basic structure is this:

1. Wait for the mistake, or invent one.

2. Dont forgive until you get what you want.

Wrongfooting is often, but not always, premeditated, a "crime of opportunity"
presented by the apologist, and exploited by the wrongfooter. A successfully wrongfooted target
is emotionally enslaved by guilt, that the wrongfooter refuses to ease. Direct wrongfooting is
aimed at the source of the wrong, while indirect wrongfooting is corrective, where B pays for
the sins of A, usually because B wants something. A simple example:

HER: My last boyfriend used me for sex, and Im not going to allow that
again. This time, a man has to wait until Im ready.

HIM: I understand! Ill wait as long as you need me to.

Note that the jerk didnt have to wait. This is a cousin of the rejection chip example
given earlier, with regard to PhysicsDudes great cousin.

Bullying: Hostile Wrongfooting

This "third" type of wrongfooting is just plain old bullying, and occurs when an
uninvolved party with an axe to grind uses alleged misconduct against another uninvolved party,
to justify open hostility. The typical bully's behavior indicates a keen sense of his or her own
limitations, since certain targets, i.e., those they know can fight back, are always avoided, and
those who unexpectedly fight back are backpedaled from, with an apology and/or offer of
friendship, or to become partners-in-crime.

Boomerang Wrongfooting

Boomerang wrongfooting occurs when an "innocent" wrongfooter, i.e., one who
relied on faulty, third-party information, attempts to correct the mistake. As one famous
wrongfully-accused type once asked: can I have my reputation back now? If you attempt to
wrongfoot the wrong wrongfooter, the "innocent bully" will usually refuse the frame, barely
apologize, and verbally aggress once again, rather than demonstrating any remorse.

Gender Wrongfooting

Following is a brief summary of gender wrongfooting in society:


135

1. Employment. Despite supposedly "unequal pay," females often earn more
than men, or are discriminated in favor of, particularly in "pink-collar" jobs
that pay well, yet which require little or no physical labor, while men tend
to succeed primarily in white-collar professions, business, or trades. Many
pink-collar types, like legal secretaries, can amass fortunes, by working
straight out of high school, not having to pay for college, and by earning a
generous base salary and overtime. In cases of gender discrimination,
females have diversity and affirmative-action policies in their corner, while
males in female-dominated professions are left on their own, even by the
government, whose affirmative-action policies do not recognize, or remedy,
reverse discrimination. Sexual harassment laws are also heavily tilted in
favor of the target-class, though not exclusively. One old Cosmo article
laughably attempted to excuse female sexual-harassment by noting that the
aggressor was usually attractive, unlike similarly-situated males. Men in
the workplace are often thought chauvinistic predators, until proven
otherwise, in classic wrongfooting style. Even as a secretary, I was still
lumped in with my oppressive gender peers, who viewed me as a traitor.

2. Family Court. By far, the worst injustice occurs here. Things have gotten
so bad that the men's rights movement has actually gained some steam,
backed by what I call the Second Wives Club, who suffer the abuses of the
first. For everything from a presumption of guilt against males, to believing
any and all false allegations, to forcing men to pay support for children not
theirs, to barring men from seeing their own children, or awarding
exorbitant alimony, with most every outcome changing drastically, with
genders reversed.

3. Criminal Court. Female accomplices are rarely charged on par with
similarly situated males, while female principals are often shielded by
prosecution, thanks to "Blutos" who do their dirtywork, like threaten other
men on their behalf, under the guise of "protection." This does not even
account for the multitude of criminals who attempt to make a big score, so
they can convert the TURD-money windfall into super-elite sex. Since
even drug dealers get laid better than most "AFCs," or even many "PUAs,"
wealthy criminals can rely on a strong groupie-class to meet their L-III
needs. In the case of Bryan Steinhauer, beaten nearly to death by three men
protecting Melissa Cartagena, the remark attributed to her in the police
report was chilling: she reportedly said to her boyfriend but [Bryan] didnt
even touch me! Does this mean she had previously given instructions that
it was okay if he had?



136
4. Dating. Males have to clear obstacles every step of the way, under severe
presumption of guilt, with the target-class defining appropriate behavior,
often ambiguously and after the fact, risk rejection upon approach, in
conversation, sustained contact, asking out on dates, during dates, at the end
of dates, and even for sex in relationships or marriage. The man who
divorces winds up against the family-court bias outlined above, while those
who put this book's title into practice are ostracized, called cheap (if they're
wealthy), "afraid of commitment" (more like afraid of family court and
societal wrongfooting), or, the old standbys, a misogynist, or a bitter loser
who can't get laid because of his attitude, even as cheaters and abusers
have no difficulty getting laid with theirs.

5. Defamation. If a male badmouths a female, even accurately, he is deemed
a harasser or stalker. If a female badmouths a male, he is deemed deserving
of the abuse, since he wouldn't otherwise be targets. Either way, the female
"wins" the conflict. This is why dontdatehimgirl.com is a thriving website,
while dontdateherdude.com is nonexistent, since that would be
harassment or stalking.

6. Dominance and submission (d/s). Female dominants, particularly financial
dommes, often require their male submissives to pay tribute, while female
submissives claim a Master should provide for his pet. Either way, the
male pays, at a rate of several hundred dollars an hour, on the open market,
up to millions, if she lands a sugar-daddy, or whale. Some financial
dommes have "slave contracts" that outline how much they are to be paid
for "dominating" their "slaves." When a male "Dom" in Florida had one of
his female submissives sign a similar contract, he wound up imprisoned.

7. Forgiveness/adultery. If he cheats, he's a dog, but if she cheats, he must
have given her a reason. The past is fair game if she brings it up, but his
remaining in the relationship after any wrongdoing is transactional
acceptance of the conduct. His sins are forever, while hers must be wiped
away.

8. Sexual wrongfooting. This one is cute: her desires, however kinky, are
perfectly normal, and something a man should aim to satisfy. His desires
are rationed, in accordance with what he is deemed to be worthy of, with his
level of creepiness or perversion inversely proportional to his popularity
and lifestyle. If he is "alpha," what would otherwise be creepy and
perverted is instead framed as an opportunity for the sexually-astute
"lifestyle target." Her golddigging is celebrated, while his defines him as a
con-artist.



137
9. Who Killed Steve McNair? Exactly.

The Bottom Line

Wrongfooters are self-righteous, and verbally aggressive, due to the underlying mix of
contempt and entitlement. Ignoring their frame neutralizes wrongfooters by requiring them to
escalate, explain their logic, or back down. The most difficult situation occurs with indirect
wrongfooting by a live target, who may have a very good reason for playing it safe, and who is
merely negotiating for their future. I had indirectly wrongfooted Kate, due to what I had gone
through with the OTL, which is why I made progress with Kate. Once Kate refused to escalate, I
refused to chase her.

The best way to stop a wrongfooter is with my illustrative example with PhysicsDude:
If Im so horrible, why talk to me? The wrongfooter will act like s/hes doing the target a
favor, at which point the target should just say thanks, but I dont need your charity, so the
wrongfooter has to admit guilt (for which s/he can be wrongfooted), or cut bait.

Lesson-Ten-The-Joy-Of-Wrongfooting-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Zero Point Forty-Two:
Creeps Need Love Too

For this, the OTL, labeled me creepy and perverted. Based on this, she was ten
thousand percent correct:

DATE: May 1984
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: FU++: SHBStore Thinks I'mA Perv (She's Right!)
NOW PLAYING: Let's Hear It For The Boy, by Denise Williams
IN THE NEWS: J ohn Glenn Ponders Quitting Presidential Race

Oh did I ever FUCK UP! Not really because I'd already blown it with SHBStore, so I've
been getting radical. Been reading about HYPNOSIS lately, and thought maybe I could
mind-control some chicks with it, starting with her. They like all that mystical stuff and
I've been doing self-hypnosis for eight years (yoga teacher taught us in fourth grade), so
I think I could do it. Even go and buy a book on it (How To Hypnotize Yourself And
Others, by Rachel Copelan). It's got all these scripts in it you can just read. I'mtrying
to memorize them and learn how to write my own.

So I find some excuse to try to hypnotize SHBStore, and she bites. Relaxes really deep
too but catches herself and is put off. Gives me a weird look and changes the subject.
Bring it up again a few times and she just wants no part of it, so I drop it. Maybe she's
afraid of what she'll reveal. Doesn't matter anyway I didn't have much of a chance but I
was trying to shake things up.

Also tried to teach her hypnosis so she could eventually hypnotize me. Got this stupid
fantasy about it ever since a Vegas episode with some beautiful evil female hypnotist
that aired when I was ten.

Now she thinks I'ma fucking pervert. Oh well. That doesnt bother me, but
MISCALCULATING like that says Imjust STUPID about chicks. Whyd I make
myself look so HORRIBLE? Oh yeah, I had NOTHING TO LOSE, but nothing from
nothing leaves nothing.

Ray


Sex-addiction at its worst. No excuses. This is the danger of prolonged exposure to
pharmaceutical-grade women. You start using every tactic, including the kitchen sink (as if it
were an all-purpose weapon), in an attempt to exhaust all winning chances. Consider them
exhausted, and my reputation, with her, absolutely, positively ruined. I did actually hypnotize


139
her, once, to a very mild level, and very nonsexually, and this may have freaked her out as well,
but she found the session enlightening, but the mistake was when I attempted to arrange a private
relaxation session, with very transparent intent, to which she initially agreed, and then cancelled,
with me never pursuing it again, as I had finally gotten the memo, although way too late.

I think the OTL was intrigued by the hypnosis, but repulsed by me (by this point), and
fearful of what she might reveal (the main reason targets are hypnosis-averse). As for
hypnotizing me, targets are averse to that, because few want to admit having or deploying the
gimmick on their own. Most target-initiated hypnosis involves a light combination of visual and
auditory stimulation, with the latter divided into the use of tonality and language. Many targets
say they hypnotize men, and they do, but only as a tease, a very, very light trance, similar to
giving someone one potato chip. This whets the victims appetite, and has him craving more.
Words like knockout and stunner to describe super-elites illustrate this.


I wrongfooted myself for years over this, refusing to ever again deploy the hypnosis
gimmick until a perfect situation arose.

Ironically, had we never met, the OTL would now gladly book me for a private
relaxation session, for she is now a yoga instructor. More ironic is that such a session is priced
at a mere fraction of what I dropped on our date. Even more ironic is that, today, she would not
even make my top ten as a relaxation provider, except by curiosity, and shes married anyway.
Any future we might have had is long gone, and sexy-hypnosis can now easily be found online,
which means this error would not have been made today.

Report-0.42-Creeps-Need-Love-Too-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Zero Point Forty-Three:
Cruel Intentions

The end with the OTL had already come, but it was useful to meet the ultimate victor,
even if it drove me temporarily over the edge:

DATE: 24 J un 1984 23:49:19
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Ray gets run over by a Limo
NOW PLAYING: The Glamorous Life, by Sheila E.
IN THE NEWS: Studies Show Women Prefer Rich Guys

Ugh!! SHBStore is FUCKING a new guy!!!

Met the "happy couple" tonight at the BILLY J OEL CONCERT. She looked almost as
good as the Van Halen concert, so maybe it was David Lee. LimoDude just chills while
I make a fool out of myself and go back to my seat. He may be rich but his cheap ass
stuck her halfway up in the greens; no class, no class. He spent a whole twelve fucking
dollars on the seats. Guess the limo tapped him.

BILLY FUCKING J OEL!! She doesn't even LIKE him! He's my favorite musician and
I didn't even know she was gonna be at the fucking thing until an hour before I left. I
didn't even fucking stay I was so pissed, just went home and cried and blared the radio
all night. Then THIS fucking song comes on:

She saw him standing in the section marked
If-you-have-to-ask-you-can't-afford-it lingerie
She threw a glance, said "Make me scream!"
In the dark, what could he say?
Boys with small talk, and small minds
Really don't impress me in bed

Apparently not.

I've fucked up with targets before, but I never lost one because I didn't have enough
money. I got money, but not THAT kind of money. She was PROUD of her ability to
get a rich guy, so calling her names wouldn't have done shit. Says she DESERVES the
FINER THINGS in life. Guess that leaves me out.

I'moutgunned. It's over. I just wanna DIE.

Ray



141

Game over: I couldnt afford the OTL. The woman I thought I loved, did not exist,
for she was not a golddigger. This is why she was my one true lust. LimoDude was the
ridiculous ideal rich guy from earlier, around the point where I wrote about how Id never
spend more than $100.00 on a date.

The shock of losing out to the nonexistent richer guy, the one my Emo game was
supposed to be capable of neutralizing, because my targets werent golddiggers, and this one
wasnt, until.the Van Halen Concert. Had I created a super-elite Frankenstein? Did her
having to turn to me for Van Halen tickets lead to this correction? As I lived by the sword at
the Van Halen concert, I died by it here. Two weeks later, I would make suicidal gestures that
would land me in a psych ER. I now liken my meltdown to that experienced by an NFL player
who just lost a Super Bowl. This is not well-known, but Buffalo Bills kicker Scott Norwood,
after blowing Super Bowl XXV against the Giants with a missed field-goal, as time ran out,
attempted suicide later that night. He put a gun to his head and even pulled the trigger.
Fortunately, he survived.
12


I was honest, telling her I thought she chose LimoDude for his money, and she
returned fire. If she could have compromised financially, or let me graduate college and start
earning, it might have worked, but she wouldnt wait. This was her lifestyle decision, and it cost
her the man who would love her for every right reason in the book, a man who had placed her
name on his virginity for her for over two years, only to throw it away on a freebie from a (very
expensive) hooker.

Report-0.43-Cruel-Intentions-(Full-Text)

12
The bullet was wide-right.


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Field Report Zero Point Forty-Four:
I Get Up In The Evening

The third-to-last time I would ever see the OTL was in response to my "suicidal
gestures":

DATE: 30 J ul 1984 15:20:08
FROM: Ray (Age 17)
SUBJ ECT: Update
NOW PLAYING: Dancing In The Dark, by Bruce Springsteen
IN THE NEWS: Swale Death Linked To Latvian KGB
TARGET CARD: None

Haven't posted all month, I know. I'mout of the game until J anuary, unless I get another
miracle like SHBPolitics. This SHBStore shit overloaded me and I wound up in the ER
for "suicidal gestures." That's what I get for being dramatic. SHBStore actually CAME
to the apartment because I was whining about her, like I REALLY wanted to see her
then yeah. Nice way to fuck up a totally fucked day. Call her two days later to tell her
I'mokay and she's civil but there's nothing there, so I stop talking to her and everyone
else. Let her go fuck LimoDude and live her fucking wonderful life, and let himpay for
her Springsteen tickets at the Meadowlands if he can even GET them. ScalperDude
wanted $1,500.00 but that's like toilet paper to LimoDude.

For the last four weeks I've been skating laps around Manhattan ALL NIGHT. I go out
like around 3:00 a.m. when the bars are letting out, and continue until around 6:30 a.m.
when the traffic starts getting heavy. It's peaceful, especially on weekends. LimoDude
owns a Mercedes that I once saw himin with SHBStore and I saw the fucking thing
parked at 92nd and Park, where the co-ops cost like a zillion dollars. Dude is fucking
LOADED; I never had a chance. Skate past her old apartment (it's not far frommine,
but a much shittier building) but she moved out and they're probably off in France or
something. Fucking social-climber.

J oined a bowling league on Monday nights, but no hustling except once when the mark
came in. Started playing chess in Washington Square Park every morning this week,
getting long lessons froma guy on disability who knows a shitload about the game and
teaches me if I buy himlunch and share my beer with him. Only in New Fucking York.
The park players say I have some potential but I'mlike one of the only guys there who's
not a bumso I dunno. I like the routine and it's going okay, especially the skating. I'm
in better shape than I've been in a long time.

Money's a little better lately: Momturned down a letter someone needed typed, they
offered me $20.00 to type it in an hour, and the next thing I know I have a little business
going, making a few hundred a week again, but it's never enough anymore around here.
City's getting WAY too expensive. No wonder SHBStore became a fucking golddigger;


143
it's survival almost. She was unapologetic, too, saying she DESERVED the "finer things
in life," while bragging about the gifts fromhim(cloths, jewels) he already gave her.

Been thinking about the women a lot lately and I don't want to play these games
anymore. J ust find that soulmate they say is out there for me and marry her. Simple.
Raise a family. Simple. I'ma good guy they keep telling me and I'd make a good
husband, well maybe I'll get to prove that with someone I actually want to fuck. Who
knows. Whoever she is, she's gonna have to top SHBStore and that's not gonna be easy,
so I might be waiting a long time. I don't give a fuck: quality over quantity anytime.

Ray


This was lovesick isolation, an Emo hospital, if you will. I was shattered, and rebuilt
my life from scratch, with chess front and center, because I was good at it, and because I liked
riding down to Washington Square Park all day, especially for the cheap lessons, and
socialization. College was on the way, so seduction hit the backburner. This is where my
chessgame rose to tournament strength, despite my remaining unrated.


A text like this would have been worth its weight in electrons, by giving me a better
perspective, of something my mind could not comprehend at the time. Because it couldnt, I
stuck to what I know: skating, chess, bowling, and some horseplaying. I did make several
thousand dollars hustling bowling, and did okay with the proceeds on Saturday nights at the
harness tracks, making for a fun, and very long, day, which would often have me out from 8:30
a.m. until 2:30 a.m. Sunday. Once, Mom and I were coming back from Roosevelt Raceway,
when the LIRR landed in Penn Station around 12:30 a.m. We stopped at the bowling alley,
where SuckerDude, the kid I hustled out of thousands, was there, and she watched me win
$200.00. On the 1984 Belmont Stakes, I had $100.00 to place on Swale, who paid $5.00 to win,
and $4.40 to place, for a $120.00 profit.

After the thrill of the target-barren Mondale campaign, it was off to college. I
would not game a single target for the remainder of 1984, instead adding not a golddigger,
kind, and creative to my soulmate-requirements, as they were what the OTL was not. In
other words, I was now seeking absolute perfection, and decided I would pull out all the stops
the moment I found it.

Report-0.44-I-Get-Up-In-The-Evening-(Full-Text)


144
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Five:
Disorientation

This was just another kid, in just another car, going off to college. It is in the ordinary
that Gods greatness is revealed, say the preachers. If so, a long ride up I-87 is a lot greater
than I had ever realized:

DATE: 20 Jan 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR: First Day At College
NOW PLAYING: Everybody Wants To Rule The World, by Tears For Fears
IN THE NEWS: Reagan Takes Oath For Second Term

Hell of a day!

1. Ride all day to school w/PhysicsDude, in his dad's car. Leave out story of
meeting his ex-wife in a bar at 3:30 a.m.

2. Lose a bundle on the Dolphins, miss the game due to orientation.

3. Reagan's second termbegins <puke>.

4. Met like a dozen HBs and a few SHBs in the dorm. Gonna be a fun
semester!

SHBOrientation (9.6) was the only hot target in the most boring evening of my life other
than an Imus charity show. Talked to her a bit, but she was just civil, not live. I'mSO
fucking spoiled by SHBStore. Not even looking at anything that doesn't exceed her. If I
settle for less, I won't have what I want.

I know what I'mlooking for now. If I'mever gonna find it, this is the place. Campus is
loaded with SHBs. Even better than when I visited here a year and a half ago.

Ray


PhysicsDad seemed not to know I had encountered his ex-wife in a singles bar, at 3:45
a.m., a few short years earlier. If I hadnt feared being stranded on I-87, I would have told him,
just to make the ride interesting.



145

This was the first time I learned to ship my belongings to myself by UPS, when
moving without a car. Very liberating! With a Mulligan, however, Id have gone alone, since
PhysicsDude was toxic to my game. Little did I know how close The Battle of Kate loomed.
Tremendous opportunity awaits the incoming college freshman, and it pays to be patient. The
rush to hook up, or run game on campus targets, is unnecessary. I avoided this, not as some
advanced PUA strategy, but to get the jump on a 4.0 GPA, so I could get into Harvard Law
School, and become an OTL-positive LimoDude. The problem was, it wasnt as Kate-positive,
and I had no idea the latter was about to trump the former.

Report-0.45-Disorientation-(Full-Text)


146
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Six:
Freezes Fishbowl Game

Instinct, confirmed by advice from the physics posses lone "PUA, led to this:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: Semester Update
NOW PLAYING: Like A Virgin, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: St. J ohn's, Georgetown Vie For Top Ranking

Whew! Finally got a chance to breathe! So much has happened, so FAST! Where to
begin? Let's see:

SHBOrientation smiles but won't stop to talk. Nothing there.

NHBDorm(6.8) puts the word out to a guy on my floor that I should hang out in her
room, with her friends, who also like to drink beer. I go down to drink one night and
now I have a groupie haremthat treats me like a king! They won't make moves on me,
but I don't give themany reason to. Don't want them, not even...

SHBLapdance (9.2) is mixed-race and beautiful. Wild, freak-in-bed type gives me a
lapdance when she's blasted out of her mind, making mesmerizing eye contact, and
saying don't make me have to seduce you. She's pretty, but not like SHBStore, lacks
her class and New York sophistication (a lot of which she got fromme), I all but
laughed at her, got up, and left. Cold. SHBStore would have been proud!

HBTeach (8.1) is my poly-sci teaching assistant. Gave me a huge IOI after I whipped
her in a classroomdebate on letting guilty people go free, when I said I'd rather let 1000
of them walk then imprison an innocent. Thought she'd fuck me in front of the class.
Heard she's into guys a lot, but that's bullshit, she lives on the quiet side of the dormand
studies her ass off. Losers should watch their mouths.

UGBreakfast (5.9) eats breakfast with me a lot, and is friends with the groupies, mostly
NHBs. They're like amazed by me or something, it's weird. I do absolutely nothing
with any of them, but they're cool. It's kinda funny and really good for the confidence.

This is what I can remember for now, there's many more I run into all the time: on the
bus, at meals, at the underage bar, etc. Can't avoid the targets here, there's just too damn
many of them. I'll get laid whenever I want, but gonna hold out for the soulmate first.
Sick of this stupid PUA shit.

Been piling up the grades since I'mignoring almost everyone except PhysicsDude.
Barely opened a book in five years so I'mhungry to learn, while all the suburban kids


147
are burned out and partying on their own for the first time ever. Been there, done that,
time to get serious. Getting approached, opened, and IOIs almost daily. Can't even eat a
meal without a target establishing proximity.

Oh and get this: RoommateDude is on the football team! Every chick that finds this out
acts like a fucking Van Halen groupie and says "that's your roommate!?" Then they look
at me like they're jealous of me, as if I were fucking him! It's not like that: he's never
home, and never talks to any women around here, and they all want to fuck him!
Doesn't talk to me much either but I think he has a g/f back home.

Is ignoring women the key to getting them? It is if you're on the football team. It kinda
worked with SHBSchool. Even if it fails, I'll get my 4.0, so what the fuck, I'll keep
doing it. If it works, I'mgonna write a book one day.

Ray


Female fish have microscopic vision. Just swim! This was my first mini-bootcamp.
He even had a PUA name!"


HBCentralParks lesson was invaluable here. I was most partial to SHBLapdance, but
immune even to her titular conduct, as she was one notch beneath pharmaceutical-grade
women. She was also psychotic.

Discuss this chapter here(click):
Report-0.46-Freeze-s-Fishbowl-Game-(Full-Text)


148
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Seven:
Intrigue At First Sight

They say youll just know when you meet your true soulmate:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR: HBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Sunglasses At Night, by Corey Hart
IN THE NEWS: AIDS Terror Grips Heterosexuals As Virus Spreads

Met the most intriguing target tonight: HBFashion (8.1). She's at a table with a mixed
set of about a dozen, including a few I knew frommy campus visit a couple of years
ago. Can't explain what it is about her -- a spark of some sorts -- but she was completely
dominating that table. Never seen someone with so much control over a peer group like
that.

Stop by her table on the way back fromthe cig machine, after HBFashion's friend,
NHBCig, had walked halfway across the bar to buma Merit fromme, saying it was her
brand. I'mlike whatever, and ask what the big deal is at the table. Turns out HBFashion
just turned eighteen tonight, and they were celebrating, even though the age is now
nineteen. Fucking NY government AMOGs raised the age a MONTH before my
birthday. Word is it's going to twenty-one next year so I'mfucked. HBFashion was
getting too much attention, and NHBCig was getting on my nerves, so I bailed and went
back to the physics posse, before splitting. Don't know what it is about that girl, but she's
memorable. Very stylishly dressed too. Excellent taste in clothing. She's the type you
don't forget meeting, since she's so unique. And pretty. Ray


In a bar!? Certainly not. Dismissed! And ignored, which, apparently, she was not
used to experiencing. Kates Manhattan sophistication had blown away most of the entire
campus, but struck me as laughable, at first blush. I dismissed her energy to that of a random
birthday girl. Besides, her body was nothing to look at, though I didnt realize this was because
she wasnt showing that card.


Never let theory get in the way of a soulmate. My love of barely-legal types was only
enhanced by meeting Kate at the exact age I consider perfect. Discuss this chapter on our
forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7326-Bettor-Off-Single-Field-
Report-0.47-Intrigue-At-First-Sight-(Full-Text)


149
Lesson Eleven:
Surviving And Exploiting Her Probe

By probing, I mean the targets use of the microscope determine a given males
viability, i.e., to pick the winners.

The Three Levels Of Probing

Each level of seduction has its own probe, which is usually rooted in stereotyping:

L-I probing is based on social stereotyping, or how you present superficially.

L-II probing is rooted in emotional stereotyping, based on what you say, how
you say it, and your body language, among other factors. It also encompasses
a more thorough probe of your lifestyle, including career, potential, income,
wealth, and spending habits. Most probes are conducted in L-II, since L-I
probes are brief, and L-III probes usually occur after her L-II probe has
convinced her to fuck you.

L-III probing is based on sexual stereotyping, and is the most difficult for an
inexperienced man to exploit, because he literally won't know what to do,
while an experienced rival will. Empty-netters will offer some sexual
confidence, but not the kind necessary to conquer a super-elite, particularly
given the much stronger rival-class for the latter.

The three probes overlap, but her primary focus will usually be in L-II, since that is
her L-III, and therefore most important. L-II probing is complex, at times indecipherable:

HER: "I see they're about to pass universal health care."

HIM: "Yeah, they definitely might."

HER: Oh my god! How can you be so insensitive!? There is no way I
could ever marry you! <slap!>

HIM: Youre right, especially since I never asked you out. Hows your
sister these days?

Keep in mind, though:

[s]he wouldn't bother probing if you werent in the running!



150
In other words:

HER: You asshole!

HIM: You noticed!

This rather obvious truth becomes, well, obvious, as your desirability wanes, since
targets will shift to active avoidance, due to the lack of a need to probe. If she is avoiding me
because she has ruled out fucking me, she is talking to you because shes considering fucking
you!

My initial cat-and-mouse game with Kate strongly frustrated her probe, requiring her
to gather third-party intel, something she wasnt used to, since most men would open her.

Reverse-Engineering The Probe

Many "community" tactics can be explained by reverse-engineering the probe. When
I began designing CUPID in 1991, I did so not to commercialize, even if I held out hope for a
media gig or book deal, but to use the guru gimmick to exploit a common L-II probing question:

HER: "So what do you do for a living?"

ME; "I write books for men on how to get laid by beautiful women, and
books for women on how to avoid the men I teach."

The second part was added in 1999. Neil Strauss would call this chick crack in The
Game, to describe an area of interest that addicts high-value targets. Targets with poor
relationship histories are easily advised, even opportunistically. Still others will want to
"defeat" the "PUA." Unlike chess, the target can "win" by arbitrary rejection, which is why smart
PUAs will either decline the challenge, or preempt it by noting its futility, prior to giving a
demonstration.

A sharp "PUA" will develop canned responses to common probing questions. This
will aid him in L-II, but not in L-I or L-III, since conversation plays a minor role there. L-III
probes can be passed in L-II, but a fine line must be walked, to avoid premature escalation, while
still whetting her L-III appetite. Several L-III gimmicks can be deployed in L-II to accomplish
this, while indirect game, where L-III is discussed, but only theoretically, or with the
involvement of other targets. Usually, he will first learn to survive, then exploit, the L-II probe,
from which he will then move on to using L-II to manipulate the L-III probe, by learning what
to say to convey his L-III "skillz." L-I is usually taken care of visually, with body-language,
grooming, clothing, and displayed wealth, and only the opener is verbal.



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Probing And The VCABM

Presuming Kate as my soulmate, I chose courtship, so she would know exactly what
she was probing. Minor manipulation was fair game, as long as it was not malicious. My refusal
to consider other targets left me focused completely on Kate. Five years of the VCABM,
particularly the EL-II with the OTL, had pushed my AFC game to its absolute limits. Kate
was given no opportunity to vaporize me, since she had to escalate to stay in the game. I was
playing for keeps, and not fucking around at all. I was also still quite unsure of this Second Ace,
and doing some serious soulmate probing of my own, which brought out her A-game. A
theoretical fountain began flowing, one which would eventually help shape the community.

Fool's Mate And Booking Up

Several "gurus," most notably Mystery, have popularized the chess term for the easiest
of wins:

The Fools Mate:
Position after 1. f3? e5; 2 g4?? Qh4

Even an AFC can remember the fools mate, but it takes a PUA when things get
this complicated:



152

Main Line Alekhine Defense
Four Pawns Attack After 18. gxh4

This is my favorite book opening position, as it is for any opponent who dares to
allow it. Fireworks ensue, and even the 3000+supercomputers have yet to solve it. My analysis
indicates a forced win for white. That, of course, is subject to change. Readers who want to see,
firsthand, why booking up pays off, are urged to check out sites like the Internet Chess Club
(http://www.chessclub.com), which offer a seven-day free trial, the chance to spar against, or
observe, international-strength competition. I still recall awakening one Sunday at 9:57 a.m.,
only to learn at 10:01 a.m. that I was paired against then-current national champion Hikaru
Nakamura. My computer said I was 0.75 pawns better, with Black, on move twenty-two, but got
crushed in the next six moves, after one mistake. I did say that if he couldnt beat me in the
opening, hed get slaughtered by Michael Adams in the world championship tournament later
that year, and he did. Ive also held Gata Kamsky even in the opening, and outplayed many
other GMs.

Lesson-Eleven-Surviving-And-Exploiting-Her-Probe-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Zero Point Forty-Eight:
L-II Isolation

Usually, a dinner-date is a simple experience, but this was not the usual dinner.and
these were not....The Usual Diners (I often keep cable movies on in the background when I
write):

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR+++: Three Hour Dinner "Date" w/HBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Like A Virgin, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Hoyas Trounce Redmen, Claim#1 Ranking

Sometimes things just click, man. Had a GREAT fucking evening, and my rep on
campus is MADE, since EVERYONE saw it go down. I didn't even know what was
going down until it went down, and now I'mlike this big-time player. Yeah, sure.
HBFashion knows better, but I dunno what the big deal is with everyone else. It's like I
won the fucking LOTTERY or something. It was just a fucking dinner! On campus, no
less. Okay, it was a lot more than that. My first "real date" in almost a year, really since
the Van Halen concert. I hadn't really talked to a woman since, and it was nice to get
back to what I used to do so easily in high school.

PhysicsDude is SO fucking narrow-minded: he can't stand HBFashion, thinks she's a
vapid party girl (he saw her in the bar the night I met her), unintelligent, and that I can
"do better." Fuck his ass, he's not the one who has to wake up with anyone else. He
likes to think he goes for "sophisticated women" but it's a pile of bullshit. I've seen his
chicks and wouldn't touch any of them except one, who's now his girlfriend, but bros
before hoes and all that, and she's a borderline HB/NHB anyway (7.9 maybe).

So I'mhanging with the beer posse, drinking beer before Sunday dinner (we like to drink
about ten minutes before the cafeteria opens at 4:30 p.m. weekdays, or 4:00 p.m.
Sundays). I cut down on the beer and there's not much time to drink, so the posse rolls
into the dining hall just as it's opening. In addition to the beer posse, there's me, a kid
fromthe physics posse (who is also in the beer posse), HBFashion, NHBCig, and me.
Total of about ten or a dozen at a big rectangular table. HBFashion is diagonally across
to my left, while NHBCig is directly to my left.

Dinner goes normally, not the first I've had with this group, but it was the first time I
wound up alone with HBFashion for any length of time. NHBCig had been bumming
cigs off me for a few weeks, while HBFashion waited in the background. We smiled at
each other a few times, but nothing big. Now everyone was leaving the dining hall to go
play football or something, and NHBCig tagged along. HBFashion and I slid over to the
side of the table, and suddenly we're directly across fromeach other, about halfway
through our meals, like I was with SHBLunch again.


154

This wasn't SHBLunch. First pitch comes in right over the plate, at 100 mph:

HBFashion: Tell me your life story.

WTF? SHBLunch was easy to talk to, never asked a question like that. Fuck, she didn't
even ASK! It was like a job interview all of a sudden, where my interviewer is an HB
who probably wants to fuck me, or at least have dinner alone with me.

I don't know how to answer, but I tell her I'mstarting fresh at college after chilling out
for eight months in Manhattan. I leave out most of the SHBStore drama but she hears
enough to get the jist. She knows there hasn't been anyone in my life since. She's
clearly single, never seen her with anyone, and doesn't talk much about her exes. She
mentioned one fromlast semester with the beer posse a week ago but that was a done
deal. Not that this was a DATE or anything oh no, just a dinner. Right.

Like I've been doing for a year, I compare HBFashion to SHBStore. SHBStore is way
hotter, but she was just an NHB when I met her too. It's fucking winter up here anyway
so everyone's all bundled up, but she's definitely hot. She's nicer than SHBStore,
smarter, and dresses really well, but so did SHBStore at the Van Halen concert. Fifteen
minutes later I'mstill comparing them, and usually the new one doesn't measure up, but
this one did. I actually felt my game coming back as we kept talking, about school, life,
our dreams, music, and whatever. She's like really into fashion, gonna major in it, has
like a year of AP credits already, and wants to be some fashion queen in Manhattan
when she's older. No doubt she will be; never seen a girl dress so well, so easily, so
often. Girl has STYLE.

I was pretty AFC, but that's all I really know, except for a few tricks I learned or shared
here (like SHBSchool's back-from-the-dead shit). I like being the nice guy; I felt like
shit after the Van Halen concert, even if I needed to prove a point I guess. HBFashion
was really nice to me and it was a great conversation. She's not SHBStore, but that's a
good thing this time. Life goes on, hopefully with her.

Funny thing: as I'mleaving the cafeteria, THREE fucking losers come up to
"congratulate" me and ask a SHITLOAD of questions like they're my old friends or
something yeah right. It was J UST A FUCKING DINNER get over it and get a life.
Fucking assholes can't talk to girls and gawk at any guy who can. PhysicsDude is like
"you're wasting your time, man" and I'mlike "yeah, when I talk to YOU." He's not
AMOGing, just doesn't like her stereotype. Maybe she'd like himbut if she did she
wouldn't have been talking to me. My roommate didn't come up at all hmmm. Guess
she's not into jocks.

This one looks like a keeper, even if she's just an HB8.1. Looks aren't everything and
she's got plenty to keep me happy if the rest is there. Not gonna fuck around for a year
this time. She's mine within a month if I play this right. If I don't get her, it won't matter
who I pick fromthe ones I already got in the bag. Probably SHBLapdance to get rid of


155
the sexual frustration, or maybe HBTeach, but not NHBDorm, who's gotta be hating me
by now. Told her all about the dinner and she pretended to be happy.

Ray


Targets like men who communicate.
Burglars like unattended homes.

Karpov had sprung to life. It was, as they say, on. In three short hours, I had gone
from mild-mannered student, to That Guy Talking To Kate. Instant celebrity had been
bestowed, as I became the sole AMOG target for the several hundred young men who wanted
her, and werent going to get her. That I looked like I might get her challenged the belief
systems of my rivals, but not as much as it had my own, for no one was as shocked by this
dinner-date, as me.


Never say in three hours what you can convey in three seconds:

KATE: Tell me your life story.

ME: I dont live in the past. Tell me our future.

Now, of course, it would be this:

KATE: Tell me your life story.

ME: Read it.

This was our first date, and she behaved as if on one, which is why the cafeteria turned
into a fucking E.F. Hutton commercial. The reason dating has become useless is, in addition
to it amounting to asking wanna fuck?, if you didnt get her to want to fuck you in L-II isolation,
more of the same (a date is L-II isolation) is not likely to change this, unless something changes
between the previous L-II isolation and the date. Had I realized I was on a date, I could have
explored our relationship options, and forced Kate to escalate, or cut bait, thus maximizing my
winning chances. That I was still emerging from my post-OTL coma didnt help.

Report-0.48-L-II-Isolation-(Full-Text)


156
Field Report Zero Point Forty-Nine:
Deliciously DomestTKated

Hidden treasures abound. No one can hide them like a fashion bitch:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: HBFashion Is Now SHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Cant Fight This Feeling, by REO Speedwagon.
IN THE NEWS: NBA Lottery Offers Ewing J ackpot.

Wow. J ust wow. Nah, didnt fuck SHBFashion, but I did realize shes a 9.6 and not an
8.0. Seems she is good at hiding just how hot she is, but the truth finally came out this
evening when I stopped by her roomto give her $1.00 I owed her (yeah it was an
excuse). Shes in her robe, so Imlike is this a bad time? and she covers up a bit and
says no. Fucking snow belt, I shoulda gone to UFlorida where chicks dont hide under
six layers of winter clothing.

SHBFashion looked great in her robe, as she always did, and we only chatted for a few
minutes, and she didnt show anything, but she didnt hide it, either. Since she wasnt
feeling well I bailed out (didnt want to catch anything either), but man, shes special. I
thought she was hot even for an HB, but not this hot.

Forget the others for now. I want this one. Ray


Dont be misled: this was innocent. She was just a super-elite, and I was sex-addicted,
so my reaction was internally unstoppable, but my intentions were pure, and I managed to
contain myself.


Risk-free game is always best here, because way too much is at stake. Your soulmate
will not reject you because you failed to grope her during an unexpected visit, when you
stumbled upon her in her robe. If you do fuck her in this situation, buyers remorse becomes a
major threat. I wanted Kate to want me with eyes wide open, a clear mind, and plenty of time to
think. I owed her nothing less.

Report-0.49-Deliciously-DomestiKated-(Full-Text)


157
Field Report Zero Point Fifty:
Death By Cluelessness

My women addiction indirectly did me in:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FU+++: Not paying attention to SHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Don't You, by Simple Minds
IN THE NEWS: Dems In Shambles As Reagan Popularity Soars

Was hanging with the beer posse earlier, and somehow wound up isolated with
SHBFashion in one of her friends rooms when hed gone AWOL. It wasnt like the
cafeteria, we only talked for like a half-hour this time, but it was good. I saw a much
different side of her tonight though, both good and bad.

Shes got her books out, something I never saw before, a bunch of photography and
fashion shit I couldnt understand, but it all looked really nice. I ask to see it, and she
opens up and shows me. I get confused by what shes saying, dont really follow her,
but Imtrying to show interest in her work, and I was into it, but not really paying as
much attention as I should. She gave me a look of frustration, not like she was mad, but
like I was clueless, and that kinda stung. It wasnt a total fuckup, but I could have
impressed her a lot more than I did, and I knew it the second she reacted. She fucking
cared about me enough to open up to me like that, and I didnt appreciate it the way she
was expecting me to. Ray


My Kate-negative cluelessness bit me in the ass, then swallowed me whole. I didnt
understand her world, was too busy plotting how to get laid, and she ripped me a new one with a
single glance, and a few words. I had gone from tactical and strategic perfection to a Prada in a
sudden gust, with her (and me) realizing I was not boyfriend-material. Assuming a future lack of
progress, I resigned.


You cant learn to dance on prom night. This was a symptom, not the cause, of why
Kate didnt want me for a boyfriend. Five years of Kate-negative pursuits had left me
unprepared to thrive, rather than perish, in this prime L-II isolation. The smartest thing I did here
was give up on her afterwards, which scored points for self-awareness. Discuss this chapter on
our forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7359-Bettor-Off-Single-
Field-Report-0.50-Death-By-Cluelessness-(Full-Text)


158
Lesson Twelve:
Mindbuilding

The target-class has always stereotyped me as SmartDude, even GeniusDude, a guy
with brains, the kind that attract minddiggers as much as LimoDude attracts golddigging wh
er, Diamonds, like the OTL. Indeed, sometimes the "attraction" is so monolithic that I have
come to treat women who select for brains every bit as shallow as those who select for looks or
money. Unlike the target-class, I never threw a hissy-fit over being used for my mind, and
have become very grateful to have something that keeps me in The Game into middle-age, and
which has even grown stronger. For all the "cerebral" gimmicks which have come to define me,
they all have one thing in common: they are the product of mindbuilding, the process of
systematically strengthening the mind, like a bodybuilder does his body. I got into mindbuilding
thanks to a book called SuperLearning, a "cutting-edge" (i.e., fringe) book, which proffered that
our boundaries of mental competence could be shattered. The book had standard
recommendations, including relaxation, breathing exercises, classical music, and the like. I will
leave the reader to judge its content, but I never practiced the system, but the book's mere
existence piqued my interest in making my brain "all it could be."

Without realizing it, Kate had made a hardcore mindbuilder out of me (field report
impending), as I would soon resolve even more to strengthen my brain as much as possible,
throughout my life. Superlearning is based on "accelerated learning," the concept of processing
as much knowledge and insight as possible into as little time as possible, thus leaving more time
for more learning. I also looked for things which expanded my brain, beyond normal teenage
substance-abuse, which led to an intensified interest in hypnosis, chess, handicapping, The
Monty Hall Problem, and just solving things, for nothing more than the sake of solving them,
and building mental "muscle." Seduction is one such puzzle I have grappled with my entire
post-tween life. My remaining ignorance, is certainly not the product of lack of effort.

Consistent with the prefix super-, I strived to do much more than just memorize trivia,
or facts, or even to "solve" existing problems. I wanted tomorrow's solutions today, even if I
had to find them myself, something most relevant to my horseplaying, the interest which unites
mindbuilding and greed, because those who succeed at that endeavor long-term, do so with
original knowledge, not by parroting guys like Beyer, who can Red-Queen them to death on
whim. The internet has made self-education fashionable, to the point where self-generated
expertise, outside the formal education system I abandoned with a 4.0 GPA, because I didnt
believe it could be changed from within any more than Nazi Germany.

In our dumbed-down society, mindbuilders stand out as "brilliant" and "creative," not
so much because they are, but because everyone else is stupid and boring by comparison. As
with physical conditioning, or a slightly off-course spaceship, the gap widens considerably with
time, with the rich getting richer. When intellect is used to pull rank, or bore a target to
death, it can be an amazing gamekiller, as millions of celibate geeks can attest. The


159
"community" bridged a key gap, by teaching its geeks to apply their intellect to seduction, either
by figuring out female behavior, or adjusting their game based on what they know and learn.

When I began mindbuilding in my mid-teens, seduction was certainly not the
endgame, since I thought I was already covered in that department, by the Magic Hottie, and I
had yet to identify the minddigger. As I would learn over the years, very, very few "intelligent"
men appeal to minddiggers, who want the best brains they can find, not just above-average, but
with genius, and the creativity to apply it in unique, interesting ways, and the wisdom to
properly organize his accumulated knowledge. I have seduced numerous geek-immune
minddiggers, because I was "first among equals" intellectually. The geeks, of course, wind up
perplexed, that they aren't scoring points in "their" category. Many just assume they lost out to a
jerk, when in fact, they were beaten on their home turf.

Mindbuilding 101: The Thirteen Basics

I have never formalized a "mindbuilding system," but now's as good a time as any to
start:

1. Forget all dogma. Dogma, in and of itself, is not bad, but only if properly
sourced, from a properly "built" mind, which I definitely lacked at fifteen.
Clinging to your present belief system will prevent you from replacing your
current knowledge with superior knowledge, particularly if you are prone
to lashing out at those who disagree with your current dogma.

2. Seek total answers. In my chess training, I developed a simple rule:

You dont know anything, until you know everything.

3. Diversify your interests. Abstract thought is the heart of mindbuilding. As
PhysicsDude once put it: "animals are aware of themselves, while humans
are aware that they are aware of themselves." Having a primary interest is
fine, but without diversity, you can wind up a one-trick pony, like Bobby
Fischer with chess. Diversification will improve both your abstract-
thinking and pattern-recognition skillz.

4. Diversify your intellect. Do not make the AFC geek mistake of relying
on raw intelligence alone. Work on your creativity, develop a point of
view, acquire wisdom, rather than just memorizing trivia (all facts are
trivia).

5. Integrate. While I didn't actively seek out a career in document production,
my " day jobs" have given me access to an enormous volume of
information, often very high-level, or innovative, due to my being situated


160
on the UPenn campus. Papers that take entire semesters, or even years, to
write, would flow through my brain in the mere hours it would take to type
them, while I was getting paid. In a single day, I could type a pair of thirty-
page, Ph.D.-level papers on advanced topics, along with a resume for some
white-collar type that would yield insight on the working world, and its
buzzwords du jour. Doing not just "brainwork," but efficient brainwork
(e.g., typing a fifty-page paper on something rather than doing a semester of
research) is the key. Even someone operating a copier can do the same, but
with much less time to absorb what crosses their eyes.

6. Avoid stagnation. I used to change jobs rapidly, because I would learn all I
could about each job, and each employer, before moving on to the next. For
example, my one-year stints at medical, legal, and accounting firms, gave
me an "insider's view" of each, which would later be converted to money,
whereas three years in any one of these jobs would have eliminated two-
thirds of this knowledge. A career is fine, as long as you avoid stagnation,
but youre more likely to find your calling after youve sampled several.

7. Repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition
repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition. The more
often you do the same thing, the more you learn about that thing.

8. Repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition
repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition repetition. The more
often you do the same thing, the more you learn about that thing.

9. Find lifetime interests. Most mindbuilding pursuits, like anything
involving music, math, or chess, or even hypnosis or horseracing, can be
practiced for a lifetime, without being perfected. Those which have a
physical component, like chess (for travel and training time), are ideal for
younger folks, but most anything a mindbuilder does will just get better and
better with age, as one accumulates proficiency, which makes any related
gimmicks that much stronger. I now know more about hypnosis and
horseplaying than I ever thought possible, due to sticking with each
gimmick throughout my life.

10. Work! Just like bodybuilders go to the gym on top of their normal lives,
mindbuilders do the same, spending entire days, evenings, or even weeks,
months, or years in intellectual isolation, like I did when I was recovering
from the OTL by playing chess every day in Washington Square Park for an
entire summer. Throughout my adult life, I have always spent my "leisure"
time mindbuilding.



161
11. Visualize! This is a creativity exercise, not a self-affirming one.
Visualization of possibilities is crucial to finding your Point B, and will take
you beyond the empirical, into the theoretical, and then into outright
fantasy, often the basis for future reality. If you dont believe me, watch
Star Trek, for its communicator, and see if it looks like a cellphone.
Then watch The Jetsons, and grab a look at Skype.

12. Multitask! Need I explain?

Just like random exercise of the body may improve fitness, but not efficiently, so will
random development of the mind. As you condition your mind to solve increasingly difficult
challenges, they become easier. The more you learn about anything, the more you can amplify
your knowledge via pattern recognition (see #2 above). Many times, often spectacularly,
knowledge I gained from one mindbuilding pursuit would spill into others. CUPID is a good
example of this, since it was derived from PowerBase, my basketball power-rating method. It is
pattern-recognition which allowed based on what happened with Beyer and card-counting.

In an example of disingenuousness (if feigned), and/or stupidity (if real), many
"community" types would respond to my claims that the "community" would go the way of card-
counting at blackjack, by saying:

Seduction isn't blackjack.

The same folks would have no difficulty using analogies when it suited their purpose.

Formal Education Is NOT Mindbuilding

I dropped out of college, but vowed never to stop learning. I was a top student, but
was never taught much beyond rote. The courses were useful, but not worth the money, and
could have been conducted much more efficiently via home study. Our national debt has
spiraled out of control in large part because college has turned into a government-funded, four-
year summer camp, mostly for overgrown children who dont belong, who waste space, and
drain tax dollars, while leaving me few rivals for Kate.

Mindbuilding As A Gimmick

Mindbuilders tend to fuck minddiggers. The CUPID ideal of the barely-legal,
pharmaceutical-grade minddigger, still holds.

Lesson-Twelve-Mindbuilding-(Full-Text)


162
Field Report Zero Point Fifty-One
Thank God Im Only Watching The Game

No gift is even a close second to my favorite:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR: OMG SHBFashion Likes Chess!!!!
NOW PLAYING: One Night In Bangkok, by Murray Head.
IN THE NEWS: Hoyas Stampede Through Early Rounds

What a Sunday! Caught up with SHBFashion after breakfast today, and she says she
wants to give me something, so we go back to her room (roommates there this time),
and shes all excited, like the opposite of the dirty-look I got for my fashion cluelessness
last time. I ask her what the big surprise is, and she hands me the official score from
the musical Chess, with lyrics to all the songs, including the playlist entry for this post,
which is climbing the charts.

The fashion stuff was cool, but this was touching. I think I get it now: she sees me as
some creative-geeky type, maybe a little cooler than the others like me, and she was
thinking about me. Guess she saw me playing chess with PhysicsDude a few times and
was impressed.

Time to make a move. J ust gotta figure out what.

Ray


Who would have thought:

Chicks Dig Chessplayers!!

They dig the aspiring world-champion variety, anyway. Kate had reestablished our
EL-II, leaving the potential for progress open. The game was back on. Better still, I had a
famous character on which to base my new persona: The American from Chess, a brilliant,
greedy, and eccentric world champion. I began toying with this as a career option, but was too
distracted by school to do much. My progress at Washington Square Park the previous summer
had several thinking I could become a GM, and I had taken daily, two-hour lessons from a
master-strength player for an entire summer, and fall.



163

One measure of chess analysis is how well a move holds up over time. By that
standard, it turns out Kate had given me the keys to Fort Knox, even if her gold proved off-
limits. Her gesture would end up the single most valuable bootcamp experience of my life. This
gift had me on the edge of falling in love with Kate, but I wanted one more L-II isolation, just to
be sure. I figured isolation would convert to a lay, and got down to taking care of business.

Report-0.51-Thank-God-I-m-Only-Watching-The-Game


164
Field Report One Point Zero:
The Battle Of Kate Revisited

Now Mr. Jurgens got into the act:

HIM: Ray, how would you like to fight Kate for the heavyweight
championship of the world.

ME: I dont think so, Mr. Jurgens. Im a ham-and-egger, and shes the
best in the world. It wouldnt be that good of a fight, so Im gonna say
no.

HIM: Ray, do you believe America is the land of opportunity?

ME: Yeah, I guess.

HIM: Kate believes it too, and shes going to prove it by giving an
unknown a shot at fucking her. That unknown is you, Ray. Its the
chance of a lifetime.you cant pass it up.

ME: Okay, but Im gonna get slaughtered.

Though I would live to fuck another day, on this night, I would die in hell:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray (Age 18)
SUBJ ECT: FR: SHBFashion Returns For Her Coat!
NOW PLAYING: Crazy For You, Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Chernenko Dies; Gorbachev Likely Successor

Wow. I just spent an hour talking with the most amazing woman I have ever met, and if
you ever saw SHBStore and SHBPolitics, you would know how impossible that seemed.
Nothing I could say about her could do her justice: she is perfect. I'mnot the only one
who thinks so either, but I think I'mthe only one who really sees just how perfect we're
talking here. Not that other guys are not sincere, but they aren't sophisticated enough to
see what I see.

She is so classy! Winds up alone in my room in the middle of the night making it look
like an accident! Either she wanted to fuck me right then and there, or she's testing me,
and I'd rather not flunk the test even if it cost me a lay. If I had her once and lost her
she'd be another SHBLapdance (if I'd fucked her). I want so much more than that, I can
wait. Unfortunately, so can she, it seems.


165

I'mjust gonna ask her out.

Ray

p.s. first isolation was interrupted by some AFC loser who wants SHBFashion, but he
got the hint and left.


Its not the isolation, its the target. I had come within one batter of pitching a perfect
game in the World Series, against the Yankees. Situations like this were not supposed to happen
to men like me. They just werent. The man who pulled this off was not me. He just calculated
a way to get Kate to a party, by throwing one and inviting her, while moving the keg two doors
down to clear his empty room. The outcome could have, and should have, been a lay, but the
isolation itself still trumps every lay in this text, for sheer outperformance of my previous peak.
If there is a final analysis, I believed I would not lose her to sexual restraint. Maybe I did,
maybe I didnt, and Kates not talking.


Treat your soulmate like a hooker for all I care. Mine was a major headache. What a
shock.

Report-1.0-The-Battle-Of-Kate-Revisited-(Full-Text)


166
Field Report One Point One:
Asking Out My Soulmate

And now for the checkmate:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: Re: FR++: Got A Date With SHBFashion!!
NOW PLAYING: Crazy For You, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Big East Sends Three To Final Four
TARGET CARD: Ace of Clubs

SHBFashion has agreed to go out with me!!! It was easy, too: just stopped by her room,
talked for a bit, then asked her to dinner on Wednesday. She said yes, I asked her to
pick a nice place, and she chose one about a mile downtown. I pick her up at 6:00.

Cant wait!!

Ray

p.s. -- spring break was cool. Got a typing job (interesting screenplay) in the Friday I
got back, finished Sunday evening, then had all week to spend $300.00!


Its always brightest before the blackout.


Overcoming my fear of asking her out was huge, even if this attempt was stumbling.
It would greatly assist me with future targets, since I never really had to ask out SHBLunch,
despite the dating bootcamp. These were the highest stakes for which I would ever play, even to
now, and I would lose. Until then, I was walking on air.

WARNING: Many gurus know full well that the user who posts a report like this will
probably fuck up, and will predict a fuckup, knowing they get a customer if proven right, and
wouldnt have had a chance anyway if proven wrong. This is commercial game.

Report-1.1-Asking-Out-My-Soulmate-(Full-Text)


167
Field Report One Point Two:
Nature Terminates My VCABM

Not getting laid at The Battle of Kate was insufficient to make a "PUA" out of me.
That would require this:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU++: SHBFashion Cancels Date.
NOW PLAYING: Just My Imagination, by The Temptations
IN THE NEWS: Economy, Stock Market Surging

You were wrong, GreedyGuru: SHBFashion called me at 4:40 p.m. to cancel our date,
not 5:59 p.m. So there! Take your $2,000.00 workshop and SHOVE IT!

I want to fucking DIE, but Ill keep going, cuz when I said that over SHBStore. I
wound up in the psych ER for four hours before they realized I wasnt serious, just a
spoiled rich kid throwing a tantrum. Now I really want to die, but I got over the
SHBStore, so Ill get over this one.

Gonna hop a bus back to NYC to get away fromthis shit. Let her stew for five days: if
she wanted to know how I was doing she could have showed up.

Imheartbroken. Completely. What will I do? My guess is get drunk, get mad, then get
even by fucking half my dormregion. Nah, dont even want to do that, not this semester
anyway. J ust gonna finish off my 4.0 once I go home to regroup.

Ray


Game. Over. Even Red Sox fans have never experienced this level of heartbreak.


Game. Over. Even Red Sox fans have never experienced this level of heartbreak.

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Field Report One Point Three:
Kate The Drama Queen

The term is not an insult to a true fashion bitch:

DATE: Spring 1985 (A Monday)
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Catching Up W/SHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Take On Me, by Aha
IN THE NEWS: Villanova Celebrates Surprise NCAA Win

What is it with chicks? Gotta resolve everything even after they win.

Get back to campus after dinner, hit up the underage bar, only to find the beer posse,
which means SHBFashion is not far behind. Chat with the beer posse, who comments
on my absence, asking how my trip was, even though they knew the answer. Don't they
have their own lives to live? If they didn't want me hooking up with their princess they
got their wish; hope they're proud of saving the world or whatever. I said I had gone
home to work, and they already knew this, which meant someone tortured the
information out of PhysicsDude, the world's worst wing.

SHBFashion rolls in about a half-hour later, sits down, and greets me briefly. I return
the greeting, and go back to ignoring her. Things get pretty normal after that, just as I
wanted. Soon enough everyone is on to the next drama, this time about some dormshit
that did not affect me since I don't live in their dorm, but will next semester, since I
wanted to live there this semester but it was full. Been hanging there for almost two
years now so it's like home.

SHBFashion seemed to be eavesdropping when I talked about home and work. Went to
dinner with SHBCousin (9.6) at my favorite Thai place, which was kinda weird. She's
telling me to hang in there, that it gets much better, and that I'll be over her soon enough.
J ust my luck to have my cousin telling me this. Whoever said a tie is like kissing your
sister was talking about something like this dinner. It was nice, and family is always fun
to hang with, but it wasn't SHBFashion either. Still heartbroken.

Made a quick exit after letting everyone know I was back, HOPING they'd forget me.
Now SHBFashion can go back to ignoring me like she did before we met. Could get
laid right now if I wanted, but don't want anyone else. Fucking Emo bullshit. Doesn't
matter what the guy thinks or feels, just who he is and what he does.

Like a big fucking GAME.

Ray

p.s. -- anyone know the laws in New York regarding Cousins? j/k


169


I could never have become a feral, results-oriented PUA without this bootcamp
experience, which marked my first public appearance after termination of the VCABM, with
Kate sensing something had changed, symbolized by my retreat to Manhattan, to figure out
how to get on with my life, without her. I gave her a pass on cancelling the date, because the
rejection broke my heart, not the manner in which she delivered it. She had to have probed
PhysicsDude to find out I had gone home, but if I didnt want her to know, I wouldnt have told
him.


We Are Marshall said it best:

"It's not how we play the game, but that we play the game."

I would live to fuck another day. At least now Kate and I were finally done.

Report-1.3-Kate-The-Drama-Queen-(Full-Text)


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Field Report One Point Four:
Love The None Youre With

Athens burns to the ground:

DATE: Spring 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU++++: Meltdown over SHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Funeral For A Friend/Love Lies Bleeding, by Elton J ohn
IN THE NEWS: Spend A Buck Favored To Win Derby

If I didn't love SHBFashion, I'd hate her for what she did last night: making me fall in
love with her. Women!!

Been studying again to make up for blowing off the last six weeks, and to avoid
SHBFashion, when last night I head out to the underage bar around 2:30 a.m. to down
three or four iced teas and blow off some steam. Got the 4.0 all but locked up: don't
have to take the PolySci final, but HBTeach has to give me five out of eight for the class,
and she knows it. Says she won't ruin my GPA, but I dunno. That one's out of my
hands. Meteorology final needs a 59, so that's in the bag, and a 61 or so nails the A in
philosophy. Dropped to nine credits after dropping calc; didn't want to overexert my
first semester back.

I'minto my second iced tea when FunDude rolls in. He greets me, plops down at my
table, and his eyes don't leave the door, so I know who is on the way. Great. Would
have gotten up to go home but fuck that I'mthere to drink Should have gotten up and
gone home, but I wanted to learn fromthe "master" who took my chick. Free
bootcamp!!

Don't have to watch the door, just FunDude, and I know SHBFashion has arrived when
he finally looks away. I count off about five seconds and she plops down next to him,
with immediate kino, letting me (and the world) know she has a new boyfriend. Like I
didn't know this already. We make meaningless conversation, while I keep drinking,
and FunDude steps away to the bar, leaving me with his chick, who I ignore. Then she
gets this WEIRD look on her face, like the one I used to have when talking to her. She's
got something to say, so I just look at her like "spit it out."

I get a thirty-second diatribe in return, explaining all my unique, good points, how
brilliant I am, and how much she admires those traits. I let her finish and just sit there,
realizing I had just fallen in love with her, because she "got me," the one thing I never
saw during all the drama, other than that Chess thing. The words that stood out the most
was when she said "there are things that you know," delivered in a manner that said she
had taken the time to realize I was a creative truthseeker, determined to solve the world
around me, and that she actually liked this part of me. The praise itself was nice, but it


171
was her insight into my fundamental personality that hooked me. What caused my
already-intense attraction to escalate into full-blown love was the knowledge that Kate
liked me exactly as I was, even if she didn't want to be with me.

So now I'msitting in the bar, in love with an SHB who has rejected me, knowing I won't
have her, never will, and that the guy who does have her is over at the bar. I do what
any alpha male would do and just give her a blank stare. She asks if something's wrong,
and I say no. Whoopie: I'mback at the Van Halen concert.

She gets this awkward look on her face, like she wants me to say something, but what
amI going to tell her? That I just fell in love with her? I know I can't have her, so I sit
there and just start crying, a lot. Like I'mlosing it, but my body language remains calm.
Don't think she's ever seen anyone so sad; it was like somebody died and there was
nothing she could say. That wasn't too far off, because my heart was dead, and she had
just killed it. FunDude came back but stood down because he didn't know what the fuck
to do and I knew he couldn't handle something so serious. He just let SHBFashion
handle it and stepped away.

I gathered myself, gave her a look like "why the fuck did you just do that?" then asked
her to dinner sarcastically. She "accepts" and I give her a look like I know she's full of
shit. A few minutes later she's like "if we go, don't get the wrong idea." Yeah, fucking
NHBDormor SHBLapdance is the right idea, even if I don't give a shit about either.
What a big fucking waste of time and emotions. I'mdone with this stupidity.

Love lies bleeding in my hands.

Ray


This is the only time I have ever truly fallen in love with a woman, in the traditional
sense. I am too compartmentalized to ever experience this again, plus any woman for whom I
would fall, would be offended by the fact that a creepy and perverted old guy has fallen for
them. This has led to an epiphany on how to deal with situations like this.


For someone who viewed my loving her as the wrong idea, she had a funny way of
keeping me at a distance. Many married men have died without hearing the level of praise from
their wives that I heard from Kate on this evening.

Report-1.4-Love-The-NONE-You-re-With-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Thirteen:
My First Alpha Isolation

Immediately after I fell in love with Kate, she became my only live target. I had
to have her, yet knew I wouldnt. That didnt mean that all winning chances would not be
exhausted. The AFC approach didnt work, and manipulation yielded The Battle of Kate, so
the latter strategy would be employed, thus marking my official transformation from AFC to
PUA, even as I retained my target-orientation.

Basics Of Alpha Isolation

Alpha isolation is a more intense form of lifestyle isolation. Literally every moment of
my time had to be accounted for as Kate-positive. This led mostly to the lifelong post-mortem of
The Battle of Kate, which continues. My obsession with finding the right moves after the fact
would ultimately give rise to Foxes and 29 Reasons. In the summer of 1985, the radio
(including the now playing soundtrack), and my game notebook, became my first seduction-
advice book, strictly for personal use. I concluded that my main tactical mistakes were not
escalating at the cafeteria, the inattentiveness toward her portfolio, and not making a move at
The Battle of Kate. Since the cafeteria-mistake was first, I focused there, but since I was still
alive at The Battle of Kate, my attention wound up split. The bar meltdown was not a mistake,
since all winning chances were long gone by then.

The FunDude Method

Whenever I lose a bet on a horserace, I review the PAP ratings that I make, and ask:
what the fuck just beat me? The bootcamp value of knowing who vanquished me was huge, as
it simplified the analysis to this:

Was it worth behaving like FunDude, to fuck Kate?

I know it was not, because I had behaved just like him, to attract Kates initial
attention. When the real me emerged, Kate was intrigued, but wanted no part of traditional
courtship. The social tension was much stronger than it should have been, mostly because of my
emotions, the same ones that had me falling in love with Kate. This is a function of social
pressure to seek a wife, put me on a playing field I would otherwise have avoided. Once there, I
lose a game, and wind up berated even for trying, while ignoring all other targets gets me laid
if I want. Of course, Im told to ignore all these sure things to pursue the one, but am then
supposed to forget her and move on. Easier said than done: saying anything is easier than
doing the impossible.



173
Spring Semester Wrapup

After Kate was finally done rejecting me (meltdowns are useful for repelling attention-
whores), I polished off my 4.0 GPA, thanks to HBTeach promising not to crush my A, which
was in her hands, due to the classroom participation grade. With regard to Kate, I put her out of
my mind by taking a room for the fall, one floor below hers, in PhysicsDudes dorm, where I had
intended to live upon my arrival, though he had moved to the quieter dorm next door, without
telling me. I wanted to live neither too close to, nor too far from, Kate, mostly because the
fishbowl would give me periodic reminders that my winning chances were dead, without my
having to waste time chasing her. This gave me all summer to spend in alpha isolation.

Kate had sidelined me even more brutally than the OTL. As 1816 was the Year Of No
Summer, my 1985 was the game of no summer. I skated around Manhattan a lot in the daytime,
played against the chess posse in the evening, and then retreating to my room, my radio, and my
post-mortem. By todays standards, the analysis was simplistic, but this is what wound up
building global theory, after its publication in 1998, suggesting extreme theoretical importance
for The Battle of Kate, making it a textbook isolation, and courtship leading up, a blending of
PUA and AFC approaches, designed to pull out all stops, in pursuit of ones designated-
soulmate. By comparison, my position in the fall was hopelessly poisoned.

One thing I had strongly underestimated in 1985, was the negative impact of other
men on game. It doesnt matter if they are friends, acquaintances, or rivals, they just get in the
way of getting laid, either directly, or by serving as Emo crutches, because its easier to dial up
your PhysicsDude than to find a Kate willing to spend time with you.

The Sexual Traffic Jam

When two high-value targets collide, all others who want them freeze in place, until
they resolve, creating a sexual traffic jam. Because Kate and I were taking our sweet, delicious
time probing each other in L-II, those who wanted me, and the many more who wanted her,
remained uncertain about whether or not we would be on the market once we resolved. From
our cafeteria-date on, we had literally stopped traffic. What can I can? We were le shit.

Alpha Gimmicks And Alpha Isolation

Alpha gimmicks are those which, like the guru gimmick, have direct, positive impact
on your game, to the point where you transcend the gimmick. Time spent in alpha isolation
should be devoted to one or more alpha gimmicks, usually for the purpose of sharpening them.
Discuss this chapter here: http://tinyurl.com/42pumyy



174
Field Report One Point Five:
The Wedding Crasher

This was educational:

DATE: J une 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: SHBCousin's Wedding
NOW PLAYING: Radioactive, by Robert Palmer
IN THE NEWS: Live Aid Concert Sells Out
TARGET CARDS: Ace Of Hearts (x3)

J ust got back fromSHBCousin's WEDDING!!! What a TARGET-RICH VENUE!

CEOCousin (her older brother) sprung for the wedding, down at the J ersey shore, and it
was LUXURY all the way. Held the reception at some boating club, with really
expensive catering. Had a few drinks and partied, plus I got hit on by half of the
bridesmaids, all SHBs and HBs. Can't STAND her new husband, he's like a proud
asshole, real frat-boy type, totally unlike any other guy she's been with, and now she's
marrying him. Her brothers should keep himin line, I don't really care, but I told MomI
didn't think they'd last, the same thing the SHBBridesmaids told me, with one saying
SHBCousin needed a guy like me WTF? She might be right LOL but I'mnot going
there.

Never saw such nonresistance fromSHBs as at this event. Looks like weddings make
themromantic, and easy if you get that nice-guy vibe going, and your SHBCousin is the
bride.

Spent the night in CEOUncle's MANSION on the shore, with its own J acuzzi. Partied
alone there, since I didn't know anyone fromthe area. Would have invited the
bridesmaids back if my brain weren't still hung up on SHBFashion (yeah, I know).
College starts again in two months and I already miss it. Been typing in the city and
going out whenever I can or have money to. Cash is tighter than ever. Cost of living
SUCKS here.

Ray


Were this 1995, instead of 1986, Id have taken four of the bridesmaids back to the
Jacuzzi, and filmed it. Two of them said SHBCousin needed a guy like me, which has me
wondering just what women think about when it comes to men. I would think that an eighteen
year-old with a rich uncles house for the weekend should be able to pull at a wedding.
SHBCousin was off on her honeymoon, and not really in any position to cockblock. Mom


175
actually had to bribe me ($60.00) to stop me from going to Belmont instead. I was convinced
this marriage was not going to make it, and only went as a family favor.


The VCABM never taught me what to do at a target-rich wedding, and a free night in
an empty, million-dollar beachfront home, on a warm summer night. Oh yeah: my uncle knew
BRUUUUUUUCEEE!!!!, from around the neighborhood. Said he could never understand a
word the rockstar said. With my finances the way they were, the OTL was no longer an option,
even if I might have had a connection to BRUUUCEEE!!!!

Report-1.5-The-Wedding-Crasher-(Full-Text)



176
Field Report One Point Six:
Hotdogs Are Better Than Sex

Pavlov would have been proud:

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU++: Apparently, Hotdogs Are Better Than Sex
NOW PLAYING: Walk Of Life, by Dire Straits
IN THE NEWS: NBC Dominates Thursday Night Lineup

Ah, my fatal flaw: TIMING! This one was classic. I'd say it'll never happen again, but
it will.

Hit up the underage bar for some drinking. Going lone wolf this semester, because it's
easier to isolate, and I'mnot that sociable in groups. Had enough of that with
SHBFashion and the beer posse last semester. I order some dinner (hotdogs with melted
mozzarella mmmm!), then head back to my table, when I notice HBTeach standing by
the juke. She gave me the five points I needed for the A and the 4.0 last semester, so I
use that as an opener:

ME: "Thanks for the A."

HER: "No problem!"

We chat for a few, things are going well, then she grabs my forearm, looks me straight
in the eye, and says:

HER: "You really deserved that A."

Ouch!! My 4.0 is FAKE! How could she! Not only that, now she wants to FUCK me!
What to do!

<ding!>

ME: "Um, my cheese dogs are ready. "

And I walk to get my food. Five minutes later she's making out with another guy.

I was hungry!

Ray



177
p.s. -- SHBFashion has a new guy: ModelDude. Guy's amazing looking, but a total
airhead. Beer posse also turned on me. One left a note on my door message board
saying give it up ray, while another made a direct remark about her at dinner, then said
"she's a fucking drama queen anyway." Way ahead of themon the moving on.


That an HB had become such an empty netter shocked me. I owned her if I wanted,
yet chose hotdogs with melted cheese instead. I had actually expected her to wait for me, but she
moved on. Her loss. To learn I had exploited the beauty premium to save my 4.0 stung a bit, but
Id have done it again, since alls fair in love, war, and the pursuit of a 4.0.

After Further Review...

I was hungrier than horny.

Report-1.6-Hotdogs-Are-Better-Than-Sex-(Full-Text)


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Field Report One Point Seven:
Phantom Girlfriend III (PG-3)

My bread-and-butter risk-free tactic:

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Yet Another Phantom Girlfriend! (PG-3).
NOW PLAYING: Walk Of Life, by Dire Straits
IN THE NEWS: Mets, Cards Duel To Wire In NL East
TARGET CARD: Ten Of Diamonds

Figures I would meet a perfect PG (PG-3), an NHB6.8 fromnext door to where I lived
last semester. Kinda good I didn't live there now since it'd have been awkward. Old hall
is loaded with dweebs and a few HBs I ignored for SHBFashion. I go back and know
half the people so it was really easy to hang out. Everyone's out of beer but her, and it's
a cool foreign brand. We hang out all evening.

Next night, we go out for pizza, with her "crew," including DweebDude, a nice guy, but
socially inept, and obviously crushing on PG-3. PG-3 has a boyfriend back home, goes
home to himevery weekend, and we're hanging out together all week, as in like glued-
to-the-hip hanging out: classes, meals, bus rides, bars, anything. Half the campus region
thinks we're a couple, and that's fine with me. She's great for the rep too, but I don't
spend much time with anyone else. Still not totally into the "player" thing but I'm
making moves on some HBs and SHBs I'll post if anything happens. Ray


Post-Kate, I would split my L-II and L-III relationships, with the PGs for the former,
and anything hot that would have me, for the latter. This is extremely efficient, because a PG
will welcome the EL-II, while you wont want to escalate. Instead of pestering your L-III
targets, you can retreat to the safety of the EL-II with the PG, and strengthen it, while your live
targets feel negged. To the extent Kate was looking at me looking at her, all she saw, from this
moment on, was me with PG-3, at least during the week.


This was the ultimate pivot, since everyone thought we were fucking. We were
literally inseparable during the week, yet I was also free to run game on weekends. Thats
never a bad thing for a guys rep, and a very solid EL-II never hurts. She was the perfect PG,
one who ensured Kate would realize I had moved on, even if I hadnt. Discuss this chapter on
our forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7421-Bettor-Off-Single-
Field-Report-1.7-Phantom-Girlfriend-III-(PG-3)-(Full-Text)


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Field Report One Point Eight:
Joyeux Halloween

If getting the lay from an HB is all that matters, consider my cred complete:

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: HBHalloween
NOW PLAYING: And She Was, by The Talking Heads
IN THE NEWS: Computer Science Most Profitable Future Major, Study Says

Recovery! Finally cashed in properly on being at college with something I should have
done with SHBLapdance last semester. This was not an SHB, just HBHalloween (8.6),
but shes nice and smart, and still pretty hot, so shell do. Love the way this one went
down!

Seems HBHalloweens been crushing on me for quite some time. Went to PG-3's dorm
wing (my old one) to hang out on Saturday, knowing she wouldnt be there, so I went to
HBHalloweens room, where everyone was drinking and listening to Days of Future
Past by the Moody Blues, the whole album, which I didnt realize was a concept
albumdesigned to be played straight through. HBHalloween is educating me on all this,
and its cool. Were all buzzed so everything is cool at that point.

She asks me about the Halloween party next week in dorm(downstairs), and I said I
hadnt heard about it, but Id probably go. She tells se shes going, because a guy I
really like is probably going to be there. Hmm. Lots of probability floating around
there. Figured Id throw the dice on the party. My target then informs me shes gonna
be wearing this really sexy French Maid outfit, and that shes looking forward to going.
Imthinking sure, perfect excuse to dress slutty, but I say nothing.

See her again Thursday while visiting PG-3, and confirmfor the party, saying Ill stop
by after dinner in the dormso we could both go. I guess that was like a date or
something. I go to dinner Saturday, then to her room, then we head down with a small
group to enter, but quickly split up, and its just me and her in the main room.

We waltz around for a few minutes, and I initiate kino by taking her hand. I already
knew the lay was in the bag, and she was smoking hot in that French Maid costume.
Having her on my armfelt good. We wind up holding hands and walking to the dance
floor, when I just turn to her and say I think we should get out of here. Shes like I
dont know, putting up some LMR, but just to protect her rep. Imnot fazed, and just
plant a kiss right on her lips, holding it for about five seconds, then pulling away,
looking at her like Ill rock her world if she lets me, with a facial expression that said
you decidenow. She did, and we went back to my room, where, thankfully, my
roommate was AWOL, but I did not know for how long. Didnt matter, so we got down


180
to business. She seemed satisfied, just like I was, but not like with SHBPolitics. Still
pretty good. No way was this or any other target gonna fuck up my semester like
SHBFashion did last time. Ray


This, my PUA answer to every mistake made at The Battle of Kate, is the
quintessential example of reluctant-PUA game, and how the mans feelings are supposed to
move in lockstep with his targets. Loving Kate is the wrong idea, yet if I had told
HBHalloween I loved her, or wanted a relationship, shed have jumped, while NHBDorm would
have called me her Prince. I didnt treat my soulmate like a slut here, but I treated a DupliKate
like one, and she acted like one, replete with extremely slutty costume that older men would
have had to cough up a Spitzer to get, probably double on Halloween, and took even that for
granted, if anyone wants a clue on how AFC I was.

It gets worse: did I make HBHalloween act so slutty? Yes!! By ignoring her for
months, I made it the only way she could reliably get my attention. I had talked to her dozens of
times, if not more, and knew her very well, but she just kept blending into the background, until
her extremely unambiguous IOI, after moving to a room right next to my old one (she had to
choose first). It seems she was as fixated on me as I had been on Kate, looking like she did, and
dressing like that, arent most mens concept of the wrong idea, nor would anyone have thought
less of her even if they had known the lengths she went to get me. As I began failing with
Kate, my reputation failed right along with it, because I didnt score the sexiest woman on
campus, or worse, because I had the nerve to try for her, and was actually getting somewhere for
a while. Kate never appreciated how difficult it was to court her, with so many eyes on her. Just
being pretty doesnt explain this, because HBHalloween was not only pretty, but dressed in a
scorcher of a costume, all for my benefit. The analysis is not compliKated:

Kate = rejection = wrong idea
HBHalloween = lay = right idea

Moreover, the only time Kate would have been the right idea was The Battle of
Kate, where she could just as easily have called it the wrong idea, while HBHalloweens signals
eventually rose to unambiguous, which they had to, or I would not have taken her seriously. The
only reason I perked up as much as I did was her mention of the party and the costume, and I
found the win, thanks to The Battle of Kate. The plans were pretty much similar: isolate at the
party, and get the lay. By the time we went to the party, I was 100 percent confident I would be
getting laid, almost exactly as it went down, because I knew I needed to escalate, preferably
before she came back to my room.


Handicappers call it a class drop:


181
Ray
18YO C, by Dad, Mom, by Grandma
Date Race Dist Class Pace1 Pace2 Fin Fig Call1 Call2 Str Fin Odds Equ
24Oct85 2Bel 9F Alw N1X 47.45 1:13.18 1:50.87 116 1-3 1-5 1-6 1-6 *2.20 L
03May85 9CD 10F KyDerby-G1 46.83 1:36.27 2:01.03 088 7-5 11-18 11-17 14-22 53.20

The class drop, is one of the most powerful handicapping angles in all of horseplaying
or sports betting, when used properly. A horse, or team, who is off the drop will often perform
much better against weaker company, due to less resistance, and having sharpened its skillz
against the previous, stronger opponent. A fair amount of my NFL handicapping, which figures
prominently in Volume II (surely the reader has figured out that the title is not a spelling error),
involved betting teams coming home off a blowout loss on the road, against a superior opponent,
against a team going on the road after a blowout win at home, against an inferior one, and where
the first team is superior to the second. For example, a 6-3 team that just lost, 37-10, on the road
against a 7-2 team, coming home to play a 4-5 team that just beat a 3-6 team at home, 31-0,
would be an ideal bet to run up the score and cover the likely 9-10 point spread.

Applied to seduction, I had spent five years gaming Manhattans finest
pharmaceutical-grade women, against its finest teen PUAs, and spent two with a pair of the
most incredible women who have ever lived. To go from that to an RHC like HBHalloween,
indeed, is like dropping from the Kentucky Derby to an N1X. For what its worth, even Beyer
refuses to admit that his figures are class-sensitive, despite one computer study showing that
horses who drop in class see their figures improve by 6-8 Beyer points (about a half-second at
six furlongs, or three lengths). The reason for this is depth: the stronger race (Derby, Kate), will
have multiple horses throwing the top figure (winner, rivals) at the race, while the weaker race
(N1X, HBHalloween) will pose maybe one threat from the rival-class. With Kate, I was up
against an entire campus; by comparison, HBHalloween was but a public workout.

Without realizing it, because, and only because, I had been aiming high for so long,
all I had to do to get laid was settle. This is a well-known tactic, but settling for an HB8.6,
after having ones heart nuked by a pharmaceutical-grade woman, sure as hell trumps learning
only how to get the RHC with ones A-game, and having to settle instead for someone like
NHBDorm, which wouldnt have been so terrible. On some levels, however, men learn how to
seduce only NHBDorm, fail, because she is their Kate, and is too busy scheming to land her
Ray, so they wind up dumpster-diving, with targets I wont name, lest they be offended by the
truth.

Discuss thi chapter here (click):
Report-1.8-Joyeux-Halloween-(Full-Text)


182
Field Report One Point Nine:
Too Cool For My Own Good

After Kate rejected me, I definitely wanted "revenge," but in an indirect-wrongfooting
kind of way:

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Froze out SHBStuckUp
NOW PLAYING: Money For Nothing, by Dire Straits
IN THE NEWS: Bears Remain Undefeated

Hit up a dormparty last week. SHBFashion was there, but didn't talk to her at all. Been
keeping my distance mostly. Dressed really sharp, with my red silk shirt, blazer, slacks,
and loafers. Also tidied up my hair, shaved, and threw on some cologne. SHBStuckUp
(9.9), a friend of SHBFashion's, was stunned enough to come dancing across fromme. I
pull an SHBSchool and pretend not to know her:

SHBStuckUp: Hey Ray! You look sharp today! [Not yesterday?-OTL]
ME: "Do I know you?
SHBStuckUp: "It's Me! SHBStuckUp!"
ME: "Who?"

I go quiet and ignore her, with SHBFashion watching. Then I leave. FREEZEOUT!
Ray


I sure showed Kate!! Nothing like a good freezeout of a super-elite to improve ones
chances with her! As they say on Jackass: dont try this at home.


Idiot (me, not the reader). Not entirely, but there are times to stand on principle, and
this was not one of those times. I could just as easily have made an example out of an RHC, not
something that put the pages of Playboy to shame. To have attracted someone hotter than even
Kate, to where she would open me on a dance floor, after knowing (probing) was a nice ego
boost. This also demonstrates the returning-fox power of a DHV on a formerly negative probe.
1.9-Too-Cool-For-My-Own-Good-(Full-Text)



183
Field Report One Point Ten:
Another Dinner With Kate

This was a feeling I had many times before, specifically when I used to radio-surf, in
search of my favorite song, only to hear it hours later, when I no longer cared:

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Finally Got To Dinner w/SHBFashion
IN THE NEWS: Dolphins Pop Champagne, Talk Trash After 38-13 Win Tags
Bears

Ah, the fishbowl! Even after I move out of SHBFashion's dorm, into a much cooler
section, we finally have dinner together, but with two guests: ShyDude, and SHBLounge
(9.4), who had come on to me pretty strongly in the TV lounge around from
SHBFashion's roomonce, inviting me to sit next to her while patting the couch. Didn't
even take her up on it, but should have. SHBLounge is finishing up her meal, while the
other two have just started. SHBFashion sees me walking by in an empty cafeteria and
invites me to sit:

SHBFashion: "Want to join us?"

I give her a brief look of irony, and a third-trimester pause:

ME: "J oin you for dinner? Sure."

SHBFashion: "Great!"

I sat down on principle, since she technically still "owed" me a dinner. This was close
enough. Next I'mwondering why I'msharing a table with the woman who broke my
heart last semester, but what the fuck a meal is a meal. I had resolved not to seek her out
or avoid her, so that rule was intact.

We had an okay conversation, nice and relaxed, since dinner was ending, and no one
was around. It got intense for a few seconds, when SHBFashion talked about "feelings"
and how they come back so easily, etc. Not sure if she was gaming herself or me but I
was like yeah whatever and changed the subject.

Told her I was leaving school after this semester, which is true. Not sure what I'll do
back home, but I just want to finish up the 4.0 GPA and move the hell on. Things are
going pretty smooth, though not spectacular. Grades are up, two classes are bitches, but
I'mslowly getting themunder control. Need an A on the final in Economics, with an 88
in Logic. Gonna need my "A-game" to pull off the 4.0.


184

My brain is already back in Manhattan. Haha so is SHBFashion's I bet. She'll be
coming back in J anuary and wishing she was where I'm going. J ust need something to
do once I get there.

Ray


I felt regamed, but didnt act on the feeling. SHBLounge was damn hot, and Id
almost gotten into it with her, but was too hung up on Kate at the time. I didnt realize how
offended SHBs get when you turn down proximity, as I had done, mostly out of a desire not to
make yet another fool of myself. Good fishbowl game seems to create numerous options.


Id hate to think ignoring Kate here would have resulted in a challenge-fox lay. This
time I wasnt going to mess up the separation we had achieved, particularly after I moved out of
her dorm two weeks into the school year, due to loud, immature neighbors who liked to trash
the hall and the bathroom. I had ducked into the target-rich dorm next door, which left me
colliding with Kate only occasionally, and that was fine with me. Even true love cannot blind
a man to a fishbowl this packed with live targets. This actually worked to my advantage,
because Kates rejecting me didnt magically improve the other men with whom she was now
stuck. Whatever it was that had drawn Kate to me, she had lost, of her own doing, while I was
just along for the ride, or, in this case, being instructed to find another driver.

Report-1.10-Another-Dinner-With-Kate-(Full-Text)


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Field Report One Point Eleven:
After The Fire, The Fire Still Burns

The heart grows old, but never ever learns.the memories smold, and the soul always
yearns (its from a song):

DATE: Fall 1985
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Cafeteria Dinner w/HBHalloween
IN THE NEWS: Gooden Already A Lock For Hall Of Fame

Caught up with HBHalloween last night in my old dorm's mini-cafeteria (one food line,
one entrance). We chat about old times, and she asks me if I told anyone about our
hookup. I had, but only when confronted by the physics posse, who had seen us leaving
the party, and saw the hickey she planted on my neck, unbeknownst to me. Hope
SHBFashion saw the hickey; she probably did haha.

I take the "blame" for any leakage, rather than remind her of her indiscretion, because I
really didn't care who knew. The way I treated her after I can see why she'd want to
forget me, but we still had a nice conversation. Then the fire alarm goes off, and we
have to walk out of the cafeteria due to another stupid prank, or so we thought. Turns
out it was a real fire, and someone's roomwas burned to a crisp. HBHalloween is
worried that it was near her roombut it wasn't, and we went back in to finish, then parted
without regaming. Nice chick, wouldn't mind hooking up again, but don't think she
wants to. That covers the ex-targets for the year. Now it's on to finals. Ray


HBHalloween was civilized, but not terribly pleased our secret got out, indicating
she had misread me as her next boyfriend at the Halloween party, only to hit the Kate wall.
Rather than give her a reason to argue, I fell on my sword by not mentioning the hickey that
gave us away, to the extent the dancefloor kiss had not. A classic wrongfooting attempt.


Recent requests for comment from the now-married HBHalloween, via internet, were
unreturned. Meanwhile, Japanese and American WWII veterans were reminiscing about Pearl
Harbor, over drinks. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
1.11-After-The-Fire-The-Fire-Still-Burns(Full-Text)


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Field Report One Point Twelve:
My Fine Park Avenue Clothes

I had to prove it to the crowd, with front page, bold type, and all that entails:

DATE: 09 Dec 1985 13:28:07 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Got Smashed, Smashed A Shot Glass
NOW PLAYING: Big Shot, by Billy J oel
IN THE NEWS: Bears Shuffle Into Playoffs As Super Bowl Favorites
TARGET CARDS: Aces Wild

Oh what a night of drunken stupidity! Some guy I barely talk to down the hall is
throwing this PACKED party, turning the hall into fucking Studio 54. SHBs
everywhere, might have made out with one briefly, don't really remember. Lots of kino,
some dancing, things got really wild late. This hall is fucking LOADED with SHBs,
everywhere you look. One night I returned home to find eight bona-fide SHBs IN MY
ROOM! SICK!!!

I'mbusy being the life of the party and downing shots in this BEAUTIFUL shot glass,
which I then break, causing me to panic. I go home, almost throw up, wake up feeling
like shit, and head out to the mall to find a shot glass for the host. Look around and can't
find anything, so I pick up four nice glasses froma store there, best I can do. Turns out
he got the double-shot glass froma bar and it's not easy to find. Nice guy to forgive that.

The reason I'mreporting here is that on the way out I stopped at the bookstore, where I
notice a copy of The Winning Horseplayer, by Andrew Beyer. Beyer is like my horse-
racing guru, he's got this "speed figure" method that he said he made $50,000.00 with in
1977, and now he's got a new book out that tops that. I pick up a copy and read it from
cover to cover immediately. Beyer lays out this blueprint for winning at the track, seems
he's a millionaire now. Got nothing else to do when I get home, so I call up Momand
tell her to start buying me the DRF every day, so I can make speed figures when I get
home. She's like okay but doesn't sound too confident. This way when I get home I'll
have a set of figures to work with immediately. Stats class and my stat calculator will
also come in handy. Can't wait!

Wish I was staying next semester. I think I might be able to, but Mom's check for this
semester bounced, and I didn't want to push it. Might be leaving Manhattan anyway, so
I want to enjoy it or find a way to stay there, even though I could get an apartment here
for like $200.00 a month, and any job pays the rent. No reason to stay in this shithole
like that.

Ray



187

The party suggests that a third semester would have been an awful lot of fun, but it
was time to leave, just as I was hitting my groove in my dorm wing, which I had pretty much
ignored, in part for PG-3, and, in part, to preserve my rep. PG-3 was constant social proof, so I
guess I had successfully blended, because I wasnt standing out positively or negatively, instead
being treated as a random student, which I liked. Finals were rough, with two As in serious
danger, so this was my last chance to party, before getting down to academic business.


The Winning Horseplayer gave me the Red-Queen preview that would replay itself
with The Game. My reaction to Beyers new work was similar to that of a community newbie
in 1998, someone who found The Game in 2005, or VH-1s The Pickup Artist in 2007. The
same had happened before with Edward O. Thorps Beat The Dealer, which put card-counting
out of business. Beyer had a strong edge, and I had lucked into it, all because I was looking
for some shot glasses at the mall. My financial condition at home had me wondering how Kate,
HBHalloween, or anyone else from campus would have reacted, had they been my girlfriend.
None of the scenarios were positive.

Report-1.12-My-Fine-Park-Avenue-Clothes-(Full-Text)



188
Field Report One Point Thirteen:
Love At Second Sight

In simplicity, and spontaneity, one may find amazing beauty:

DATE: 18 Dec 1985 01:06:07 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Fell In Love With SHBFashion Again
IN THE NEWS: Morganthau Vows To Imprison Goetz

J ust saw the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. It was sad, but worth the
pain to see.

I'mup around 5:45 a.m. having a morning beer in my room, when the fire alarmin my
old dormgoes off, a typical finals prank. Everyone is scattered outside, except for
SHBFashion! She is sitting in her robe (!), on the steps inside the main hallway (I live
on the first floor), barely awake, looking like an angel, absolutely no hint of a bitch
shield, or even calculating her moves like she usually does. This is the real her, and it
was an incredible site. She's a damn SHB even rolling out of bed without makeup; she'll
be hot even when she's forty. Total keeper in every way. We talk for a few minutes, she
wishes me well in Manhattan, I wish her luck at school, and that was that. Could have
cried again but been there and done that. J ust enjoyed a beautiful moment for what it
was. Ray


Wrong idea? Never. Kate enough back then. I sometimes wonder if I shouldnt have
been more over-the-top, but had made enough of a fool of myself to last the year. Now I was
just dazzled, in a way that would have surprised me, from any other source.


We cannot control who loves us the most, as much as we wish we could. Kate had to
deal with that person being me. Though I doubt shed ever believe me, I tried to make it as easy
on her as I could. This would be our third-to-last conversation, and second-to-last face-to-face
meeting. For as many who may have known I wanted her, on a day-to-day basis, I let this
pharmaceutical-grade fish swim as far from me as possible.

Report-1.13-Love-At-Second-Sight-(Full-Text)


189
Lesson Fourteen:
Housecleaning And Horseplaying

I first wrote about the self-explanatory housecleaning in Foxes. The process is
simple:

1. Get the shit out of your life, usually beginning with your entire social-
circle and target-roster.

2. Improve yourself in alpha isolation.

3. Emerge a much stronger PUA, as you rebuild a superior lifestyle, or
develop your PUA skillz.

Socially, you will always find an easier post-isolation target-pool, because:

Familiarity breeds contempt.

PAP has a principle called refutation, which applies to a horse who loses its first race,
thus proving it is not an undefeated champion with limitless potential. With each loss, its
limitations become apparent, and it becomes pigeonholed by a more accurate PAP rating. The
same occurs as targets detect our weaknesses, with the bar meltdown an extreme example, or
even The Battle of Kate.

December, 1985 began a period of serious housecleaning, and my final six months in
Manhattan. I had no money, still owed the school two dimes, and had only the typing concession
I had carved out for income. Business was dying. Mom had lost NYSSA a few years back,
which stung, along with many other clients, to word processing. I refused to worry, mostly
because young people hear about their bright futures, and since anywhere Id be moving would
be cheaper than the wealthiest ZIP code on earth. Mom tapped the family for some assistance,
but that was embarrassing, and wound up doing little to keep us there. We should have taken the
money and just bailed, but Mom didnt want to leave, and I had nowhere to go. I probably could
have fought to keep the apartment in my name, as a successor, but a nineteen year-old without an
attorney wouldnt know how to defend his rights. At the least, I could have gotten longer to
move.

My First Attempt At Professional Horseplaying

Compiling this text has shown me that Mom and I were more professional in our
horseplaying than we had realized. Indeed, Mom had missed a $40,000.00+jackpot
($27,000.00+after taxes) in October, that would have cleared our debts, and was taking
numerous shots of her own, but showing only minor profits, plus it was getting difficult to risk
money, when we had less of it to risk. My $15,000.00 inheritance had been claimed in 1983-


190
1984, to cover my school tuition, and basic expenses, so I had been financially emancipated
since age sixteen. Had Mom not needed my inheritance, I could have finished college easily, but
at too great a cost to the family unit, and I would have lost my home prior to arriving at school,
so this wasnt an option. Now, we were just broke, and about to lose our luxury, rent-stabilized
Manhattan apartment. With tons of time to kill, I decided it was the perfect time to test the
Beyer method, and maybe find an alpha career.

Lack of understanding of racetrack economics had me adopting a disciplined
approach to betting, designed to keep my modest bankroll alive for as long as possible, so I could
get as much practice as possible with the Beyer method, and determine my all-important ROI.
My plan was to establish a profitable ROI, then increase my wagers as my bankroll grew. I
would track every dollar bet, and cut infrastructure costs to the bone, so as to underfund my
venture by as little as possible. I was emulating Beyer in every area except the most important
one: I had no racetrack gig to ensure a paycheck. Instead, I would be singing for my supper, a
much more difficult proposition, but one I tackled eagerly, since this offered a perfect escape
from Kate. I had wasted two-and-a-half years of my life on a failed soulmate-search, and had
no desire for more battles. I chose instead to rebuild my lifestyle, and fast.

What was actually going on here was that my alpha isolation from the summer of 1984
had never really ended. Kate was my first live target after the OTL, with HBHalloween my only
conversion of numerous other options, and then only because of the similarities to The Battle of
Kate. My transition from AFC to PUA was not instant, not glorious, not something I
enjoyed, and required me to endure massive heartbreak, by offering every soulmate chance to
a pair of pharmaceutical-grade women who werent interested. By early 1986, rebuilding
myself became the top priority, particularly since I was going to need a job, a business, or a
major winning streak, and a place to live.

Upon my return from college, I took the pile of DRFs that Mom had purchased for me,
and got to work with the Beyer method, using my trusty stat calculator, and the knowledge of
statistics I had gained when I wasnt busy obsessing over Kate. The other part of the Beyer
method, trip handicapping, required me to go to Aqueduct each day, or tape the replays on
Sportschannel, to which I didnt subscribe. Being at the track was key anyway, since the
replays didnt show the back of the field; for that, I would need binoculars, and to stand outside,
in the freezing weather, often with high winds, snow, freezing rain, or that awfully-named
wintery mix, to dutifully record my observations, all in the name of boosting my ROI with
information overlooked by the general public.

After winning a few hundred dollars for myself, and several friends, my first attempt
to cash in actually failed, as I lost my entire $200.00 bankroll in one day, thus crushing any
dreams of instant riches. The bankroll would replenish, and I decided I needed time for the trip
notes to accumulate, since horses Id seen would not be running back for a few weeks. After
regrouping, thanks to a typing job that was parlayed into a $125.00 bankroll, I set out for
Aqueduct, on Wednesday, January 22, 1986, to begin taking notes every day, and to see how


191
long I could preserve my bankroll. If all went well, I would win, establish a profitable ROI,
steadily increase my wagers, and live happily ever after. Had I been smart, I would have relied
on my having won most years, and just taken the leap of faith, but I got badly burned the first
time I did so, running out of money just as a huge winning streak would have hit. This time, I
would do things the right way, which, under racetrack economics, was wrong.

Without a stable income like Beyers, I was pretty much doomed. I would be fine
until July, 1986, but needed 20,000.00+to finish college debt-free. At nineteen, with only one
year of college, and office skillz that could have gotten me $14.00 an hour if I were a hired-
gun, but which got me nothing as a male, I really had no other option but to wait for work to
come in at home, and bet horses whenever I could. I had purchased a pair of IBM 95 memory
typewriters on credit the previous summer, and they enabled us to take a $10,000.00+mass-
mailing job that kept the lights on, which had me working both machines at once, with one
typing one letter as I was prepping the other. I would also score a $100.00+rush job during the
Giants-49ers playoff game, proud that I chose the OTL-positive option of earning. Another time,
I stopped playing chess, while drunk, to take a subway down to Wall Street, to type a contract for
three hours on a Sunday night, for $75.00, which made me feel ambitious.

My infrastructure costs for this venture were $7.45 a day, including DRF, program,
admission, roundtrip subway fare, and $0.95 for the potato salad I would eat midway through the
card, to cut food expenses. On winning days, Id bring home ribs from a local takeout joint,
while every morning I would cook breakfast, usually a cheeseburger. Because my bankroll was
so low, and I needed three weeks for the trip notes to kick in, I began by betting $1.00 a race,
figuring Id show a modest profit, maybe more if I somehow caught fire. I needed to win at least
enough to cover my expenses, but at $9.00 a day in betting, I would need an ROI of $1.67 to pull
that off, which was not likely. I would have to increase.

From my first three visits to Aqueduct, two were profitable, and I had about $140.00
going into Saturday, January 25, 1986, a dreary, rainy winter day, when it was questionable that
they were even going to run. Secondary to this, I remained at home until 11:00 a.m., when word
came that the card was a go, and I popped over to 56
th
and Second, for the $3.50 track bus,
which took much less time. Examining the weather, I decided to wager on only five jockeys:
Davis, Cordero, Lovato, Velasquez, and Santagata. They would wind up winning all nine races
on the card, capped by Mount Guard (14-1) and Santagata, who was also responsible for giving
me half of a $1,093.00 trifecta in the finale, capping of a profit of $700.00+for the day. I was,
as they say, in business. I now had a bankroll, four days of trip notes, and the feeling that I
had possibly stumbled onto a new career.

Trainwreckers

Murphys Law says that whatever can go wrong, will, and at the worst possible
moment. Murphy neglected to mention his role in sabotaging others, to validate his law. The
trainwrecker is an immature human being, i.e., most of us, and seems to consider it his or her


192
duty to attempt to demolish the life of another, often to punish the mistake of revealing the
tracks. A trainwrecker cannot act unprovoked, and must await a mistake from the victim. In
my case, the mistake was letting people know I had hit the trifecta, and was suddenly pulling in
more money than they were, at their jobs. Those I had thought would be happy for me turned
quite evil and bitter, very fast, to the point where they would verbally abuse me over my new
chosen profession. The most common attempt to cause me to tilt was this old proverb:

You can beat a race, but you cant beat the races.

Which means, of course:

They cant beat the races; therefore, you cannot beat them (because they are
better than you).

Why I bothered sharing my tales of good fortune with others, except to defend my
pastime against this very annoying proverb, is not an easy sell in retrospect, but few of us are
born so cynical that we assume the worst to the point of trainwrecking, even if many clearly do.
Not everyone was a trainwrecker, as Boards, WaiterDude, Banned4Life, Mom, and
BowlingDude all wanted to know which horses they should bet, while one other kid would grab
my DRF upon my arrival at Aqueduct, to copy my figures into his. My relatives, and childhood
friends were nonplussed, often to the point of contempt. SHBAunts experience made the
bloodline\s reaction understandable, but someone had to win what the degenerates lost. The
confidence and maturity required to ignore trainwreckers for something so frowned-upon by the
mainstream, was much to ask of a nineteen year-old college dropout. Blind faith in my future as
a horseplayer would have been necessary to block out all doubts, and I had yet to accumulate the
evidence necessary to develop that faith.

A PUA approach to horseplaying would have gotten me wealthy, quickly, which, in
turn, would have put me back in the running with the OTL, and even Kate. Instead of
conserving the $800.00 and letting my living expenses bleed it to death, I could have taken one
more shot at multiplying it into something meaningful, like clearing out the familys debt, or
moving back to college. I had escalated somewhat a few times, but that didnt always work out,
even if the trifecta was a major escalation, to $14.00, in an attempt to hit the days biggest bet
(now there are trifectas in every race). My ROI was inflated due to the big win, and would not
settle for some time, so I just kept to task, and kept my units small. By mid-February, I was still
profitable, but spending most of my winnings, which was crushing my bankroll, even if I was
enjoying Manhattan once again. The potential to become wealthy, instantly, was very OTL-
positive, while the chance of winning my way back to school was Kate-positive, even if Kate
seemed bound for the Fashion District, possibly by way of FIT.

Those who are about to succeed make the easiest, and most lucrative trainwrecking
targets. They worked overtime with Kate, from all corners of the fishbowl. With so many
wanting her, or me, few wanted us as a couple, and this proved a drag on my progress. My


193
sudden win at Aqueduct had me scoring out of my league again, this time financially, which
attracted the attention, admiration, and ire of the various factions. After a month or so, my ROI
would settle in at around $1.17 overall, from $1.10 on straight bets (win/place/show) bets, to
$1.25 on exotic bets (doubles, exactas, and trifectas). Right there, I had all the answers I
needed, but didnt do the correct math.

With an ROI of $1.17, I would have needed to wager $6,000.00 a week, or a little over
$100.00 every race, to earn $1,000.00 a week. I was not betting anywhere close to this, as this
could have wiped me out (or made me rich) in a single day, hardly anything on which to bank
ones future. On the other hand, I was profitable, and covering my expenses, plus a decent L-I
venue budget, for a few nights a week, just to enjoy Manhattan before I left. Things were stable,
but I was going to need to get a new place, somewhere, plus a job, unless I won big, fast.
Fortunately, I would find a solution, albeit one which would terminate my horseplaying
VCABM.

Shortly after winning $500.00 in a four-race fit of parlay aggression ($2.00 into
$10.00 into $100.00 into $500.00), Boards offered me half of a document shop at UPenn, on-
campus, including $5,000.00 in relocation money. With nothing better to do, I accepted his
offer, which Mom turned down, since it assured me of a place to live in September, 1986, after
Id spend the summer parked in his living room, to cut costs. This enabled us to collaborate on
both horseplaying and seduction, as we had for years, which led to the pivot, among other theory.
This made her the worlds first official pivot, and Boards confirmed his liberal deployment of the
automatic cred.

My First Search For A Real Job

At twelve, I was making $150.00+a week as a messenger. That winter, I made almost
as much a day, thanks to my ability to work a memory typewriter. I used to make money
copying and collating large jobs to augment my dogwalking income, a sign of the general greedy
one will find in a wealthy neighborhood. On Tuesdays, when Aqueduct was dark, I would seek
office work in midtown, only to waste my time interviewing and testing, with my gender, and
lack of outside experience, proving fatal. The business in Philadelphia would give me
experience, and it began to make more sense just to stick to the track, both to bide my time, and
maybe accumulate some relocation money. Meanwhile, the OTL was banking as a corporate
hired-gun. One Saturday morning, I wound up missing Mensa by a few points, after taking their
exam, thus cutting off a target-rich source of minddiggers, according to Playboys Women Of
Mensa pictorial.

My privilege did not die easily. We bought until J uly 15, 1986, to vacate my
childhood residence, and I had a place to go, while Mom had enough money to bounce around
womens residences, like the one from Bosom Buddies, as she kept her business alive while on
the run, effectively becoming a glorified, well-paid freelancer. I wound up winning two out of
every three trips to Aqueduct, but was still spending most of my winnings. The problem was


194
that my impending move was going to make it difficult to bet Aqueduct, though in retrospect, I
could have commuted by SEPTA and NJTransit, and just wagered at Penn Station, for a ten-
hour day on my feet in a shitty OTB parlor, at a cost of $25.00+a day, plus the five percent
surcharge. Instead, I would just move my tack to the mid-Atlantic tracks: Garden State Park,
Philadelphia Park, Atlantic City, Monmouth, and Meadowlands (by simulcast), doing speed-
figures there instead of for NYRA, which I could still bet through CycleDude, or their phone-
betting system, but without trip notes.

At Aqueduct, and then Belmont, I had developed a bit of a following, often scoring
rides home from grateful fans who bet my tips, or maybe a free meal. One day, Banned4Life
brought a friend of his, who began the day with $300.00, while I borrowed $2.00 to start mine.
By the end of the day, the friend was broke, and I had $117.00, leading to a mindbuilding
epiphany:

Money follows knowledge, not the other way around.

The same is true with success, including in seduction.

Nineteen Is VERY Young

My general belief that I had plenty of time to develop into a professional horseplayer,
or build some other career, was correct, just as my belief that I had plenty of time to regroup
after Kate was on the money, even if a more aggressive approach to betting might have kept me
in Manhattan, or even made me wealthy. I should have known to get while the getting was
good, and didnt, but I hardly left the island empty-handed. By July, 1986, I had won several
thousand dollars, but not enough to return to college, or save my apartment. I just bounced
along, typing and winning enough to get by, and waited for the summer, so I could move. The
UPenn campus was nice, and extremely target-rich, which encouraged me. The upper east side
has the worlds most phenomenal women, but not in large numbers, and the rival-class, like
LimoDude, is ferocious. UPenn was like a mix of my hood, and the upstate campus, with many
students hailing from Manhattan, and an even larger fishbowl than the one I had just left.

My Aqueduct ROI was a smashing success, and an excellent foundation for a lifetime
of mostly profitable horseplaying, including the present, and, hopefully, beyond. Like a true
alpha gimmick, it is a revenue source, and a DHV when I deploy it, one which I transcend
through ability, and which cannot be mainstreamed. Common alpha gimmicks ones include
music, finance (daytrading, serious investing), writing, cooking, or even repair, which worked
wonders for MechanicDude. I write here about my horseplaying, to give readers ideas on how to
deploy their own alpha gimmicks. Standard L-II chick crack gimmicks, like those involving
astrology, tarot, or similar interests, rarely qualify as alpha gimmicks, since almost anyone can
run them. The defining characteristic of the alpha gimmick is that your target will want to
experience it only with you.



195
I did stay in touch with PG-3 after I got home, mostly through ChefDude, who had
taken a job a few blocks from my apartment, on the way back from the #6 train, so Id chat with
him for a cigarette or two, and recap my day. PG-3 came down for a visit on her own once, and I
visited them soon after. They would be housecleaned, along with the rest of my childhood, once
summer began, which left me in a holding pattern through a rather enjoyable, and profitable,
spring. Only Boards remained, and my target-roster had been wiped clean. It was truly a fresh
start.

Lesson-Fourteen-Housecleaning-And-Horseplaying-(Full-Text)


196
Field Report One Point Fourteen:
The Double Ex

Fucking my phantom soulmate was more within reach than I realized:

DATE: April 1986
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Missed A $70,000.00 Win! UGH!!
NOW PLAYING: We Built This City, by J efferson Starship
IN THE NEWS: Subway Crime Down In Wake Of Goetz
TARGET CARD: None

Talk about a tough beat! This isn't a direct field report, but the amount of money
involved makes it relevant to SHBStore, since she would have found out about this.

Sitting around at home with the family, and a few friends fromthe childhood posses
(stickball, Star Trek), when Mom spits out the harness half of the OTB Double Exacta, a
wager that requires the bettor to pick the exactas in the last race at Aqueduct
(thoroughbred) and the fourth at Yonkers (harness). She asks what I like at Aqueduct
but I stopped going a few weeks ago. I check the notes I have (most horses haven't run
in the last few weeks), and come up with four horses, which makes for a $48.00 ticket if
we take every combination of the horses we like (twenty-four total combinations). We
debate whether or not to bet, total up our cash, and we have like $110.00. We bounce
around various ticket-splitting schemes, decide that $48.00 is too much to risk on a
jackpot wager, and pass.

It comes in. Nobody has it.

There was $85,000.00+ in the pool!

That's a payoff of around $69,000.00+after the track takeout.

Damn. Near-miss. Such is life at the track. Was more pissed I didn't nail the trifecta for
$400.00+on a $24.00 ticket that was very hittable. Winner paid $48.40 and I didn't
even have that.

Ray

p.s. -- Going to Philly for a week and gonna move there this summer.



197

Had it occurred to me that hitting this wager would have given me enough money to
purchase the OTL, finish college, and game Kate from a house, paid for in cash, I would
probably have taken the plunge.


No guts, no glory. It was a tough call; similar restraint has saved me $48.00+many
times over, so its not clear what I did was even wrong. Practically, it was my best shot at the
First and Second Aces, so it should have been taken, for I had everything to gain, and nothing to
lose. Theory aside, I would love to have seen the look on the OTLs face when word of a win
like this would have reached her. One reason PUAs get ahead in life, and in seduction, is that
they will always take a risk like this, which makes them more likely to be present and accounted
for on the dock, when, as Ralph Kramden once put it, The Queen Mary arrives. The reader
should also consider that, in the time it took to read this lesson, I could have won as much or
more on a race, something which confounds all probing, and which defines me as a Deuce of
Spades, the wildcard.

Report-1.14-The-Double-Ex-(Full-Text)


198
Field Report One Point Fifteen:
Finishing Up With SHBLunch

Some unexpected closure interrupted my alpha-isolation:

DATE: May 1986
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Another Date With SHBLunch
NOW PLAYING: Only The Young, by J ourney
IN THE NEWS: Stern Cements #1 NY Radio Ranking; Threatens National Show

Get a call fromSHBLunch out of the blue, and quickly arrange a lunch date right near
the store where I met SHBStore, and near the OTB. I buy, as usual, and we catch up.
Seems she's working at a nearby hospital, and studying nursing. Not a bad career I
guess. She never seemed to preoccupied with studies or work, and we didn't talk about it
much. Didn't ask about CowboyDude, and she didn't bring himup. Maybe he's history,
maybe not, but I'mleaving town in a little over a month and don't have time to start up
anything. Tell her boards and I are working on conquering the racetrack, and she sounds
skeptical. Been getting a lot of that, even when I pay for the date fromwinnings. PG-3
and her boyfriend are the same way, and I don't even bother bringing it up to others. It's
like I never stopped gambling for three years before this when I wasn't winning.

Let me hit one of those jackpot wagers and the same chicks would be lining up to fuck
me. SHBStore would anyway. Gambling and women do not mix well. No goodbye
kiss this time, so maybe it is goodbye. Ray


A rather pointless date, but we couldnt have known that beforehand. It scores as a
date with an SHB, thus padding the individual stats, so Ill take it.


Horseplaying was driving a wedge between me and any target who claimed to want
me to open up about what I was doing. The money I was winning was fine, but I needed to just
take care of business and spend it, either not attributing the income to any source, or claiming a
stream of typing gigs. One thing high-school taught me very well was how to wear a mask of
normalcy, since no one really checked for details if everything looked kosher on the surface.

Report-1.15-Finishing-Up-With-SHBLunch-(Full-Text)


199
Field Report One Point Sixteen:
Kino Me Kate

For as "close" as Kate and I had been, at times, our skin had never shared space in the
universe. Until now:

DATE: May 1986
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Wrapping Up At College
NOW PLAYING: Slit Skirts, by Pete Townshend

IN THE NEWS: Morganthau Likens Goetz To Satan

I went home again! To school! What a terrible weekend: windy, dusty, and the big
campus spring party was shit because no one was legal to drink. Nothing like last year.
Won the money for the trip on a 15-1 shot I picked off the entry sheet at the OTB, while
Momspent a half hour on the race, only to lose. Gotta love the track!

First stop is PhysicsDude, but I'mnot staying in his roomlike in the old days, so we
hang for only a little bit, before he gets back to studying for finals. He's got a 4.0 his last
two years, and got my grades for me off the walls because I couldn't get my transcripts;
nailed the 4.0! It's only a year but I'mproud of it.

Next up was the second roommate fromlast semester, since I was staying in the old
room. I could have done another semester up here but I'mglad I did the horses instead.
Could have bought a fucking HOUSE and returned here if I'd hit the Double-Ex but oh
well. Still having a good year, even paid for this trip with a 15-1 shot last week. He was
cool as always, but busy with his own group. After that, I popped into SHBFashion's
dorm(my old dorm), to chat will my old hallmates, and they start fucking with me,
telling me all kinds of bullshit I'mpretending to believe, before I walk on. Ex-
roommate's a joker, got nothing in common with him.

It was then on to PG-3, who stayed up for the weekend, and gave me shit over the party.
We still hung out, but not too long, and I caught up with a bunch of others fromthe
dorm, including HBHalloween, with whomI had a nice, brief chat. Think she's found
someone new, and kept her distance, not surprising given the dinner, but she's still hot as
ever. By Friday dinner, I had caught up with everyone, except one.

After dinner, I head through the courtyard, and notice SHBFashion in the roomdirectly
over the main entrance. This was easy enough, so I pretend not to notice her, head up to
the second floor on one of the side staircases, then walk through the halls, turning left
and walking so I knew SHBFashion would see me, and think I had no idea she was
there. Worked like a charm: she squeals out an old nickname she had for me (a good
one), I turn around, she moves towards me, says give me a hug! and I oblige her. First


200
fucking kino in eighteen months. Everything was completely backward with this chick:
flirting, then isolation to my room, then she turns me down for a date, then I fall in love
with her, and now, months later, I finally get some kino. Nice hug, but I kept it
impersonal.

Chat with SHBFashion for like 10-15 minutes, she wishes me luck in Philadelphia, I
wish her luck in Manhattan when she eventually gets there, then we say our goodbyes,
and I do not see her again. Watched Ferdinand win the Derby on Saturday, then headed
home yesterday, while coming down with a nasty cold.

Good visit, not too expensive, tied up a lot of loose ends all at once. I guess that's what
visits like this are for. If so, mission accomplished.

I head to Philadelphia with a clean slate. Will just hang at the track or play chess in
Washington Square Park until then.

Ray


With The Battle of Kate over, she had no reason to feel awkward. I wanted to see how
she was doing, and did. She seemed to like catching up with me, but only briefly. The hug was
unexpected, suggesting something, but Kate would never say what, and I never asked.
HBHalloween was intriguing.


This was the last time I would ever see her in person.

Report-1.16-Kino-Me-Kate-(Full-Text)


201
Field Report One Point Seventeen:
Making Peace With The OTL

A slight recovery, in keeping with the closure theme of this alpha isolation:

DATE: May 1986
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: SHBStore Still In My Head
NOW PLAYING: West End Girls, by The Pet Shop Boys
IN THE NEWS: NYC Gears Up For 100th Anniversary Of Lady Liberty

SHBStore brings out the best and the worst in me, I swear. Last fall, I called her from
college, asking do you still hate me? She hung up, then called Mom, talked to her for a
while, then Momcalled me, I called her back, and we chatted for a bit, but that was that.
This time, I spilled my guts into a letter I hope she burned, because I capitulated, poured
out my heart, said I missed her, etc. I was shitfaced when I wrote it, and forget it, until
I'mwalking out the door, when Mom says she's on the phone. I pretend not to hear it,
but when I return a half-hour later they're still talking, and Momhands me the phone.

Suddenly, SHBStore is no longer angry at me, a far cry fromFebruary, when I saw her
standing on the corner of 78th and Second, wearing a mink coat, and she pulled a cool
evasive maneuver, looking away fromme as I approached, and turning away fromme
with a "180" as I passed, very smoothly. That woman scorned thing is a bitch, but that's
the game I guess. Now, we actually had a brief heart-to-heart, and she highlighted my
good points, and our good memories. It was a nice conversation, but also a final one.
She didn't want to continue, something confirmed when she passed by the restaurant
window while I was having lunch with Mom, nodded, and kept going. For a brief
moment, I thought we were "closer," even at a distance, then I focused on the distance
part, and realized that was a crock of shit. Actions speak louder than words. She was
just making some peace as we continued on our separate paths. Don't know why I wrote
the letter, but I did, and don't know why she called me, but she did. Life goes on. Ray


Our EL-II had way too many positives for any long-term grudges to be held, even if
she didnt wish to reconnect.


This would be our final conversation, followed by the last time our paths would briefly
cross, with a drive-by hi Discuss this chapter on our forum:
1.17-Making-Peace-With-The-OTL-(Full-Text)


202
Field Report One Point Eighteen:
The Battle Of Kate II

Time had ravaged my one true love:

HER: "My beauty will block out the sun."

ME: "That's not your beauty, that's your fat ass. I see its time to check the
date on that milk."

No bar-meltdowns here. Kate was brilliant, successful, fascinating, andold:

NEWSGROUPS: alt.seduction.guru
13

DATE: November 1998
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Guys, Show No Mercy
NOW PLAYING: The Power Of Goodbye, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: J ordan Retirement Leaves Bulls In Shambles

Finished some unfinished business fromLONG ago, as I'mfinishing up the new book.
It's GREAT, and I hope you all BUY it (shameless plug!).

I never talk about this chick much anymore, because she was a total AFC failure, but I
just spent an hour on the phone with SHBFashion, the one from1985 in college. Yeah,
THAT one. The one I had a meltdown in front of in a bar. The one that "broke my
heart" and left me chasing sex but not love for thirteen years, with no relationship longer
than four months. I think I called her to test my game since she was the most
DIFFICULT chick I've ever gamed. Thought it might be different now but should have
known better. Also know my game has a ways to go because she caught me off guard
once again. Now I know what you guys mean about not gaming the chicks who knew
you as AFC. It's not worth it unless they see the change and game you.

So I call her up and she answers:

ME: "Hey, is this SHBFashion?"

HER: "Who's this?"

(I know it's her)

ME: "I go by Ray now, but you would know me as <real name>."

13
As ASF became a real group in 1994, fictitious reports from after that point will be "posted" to the fictitious group
alt.seduction.guru.


203

HER: "Oh my God Hi! I'mon the other line right now. Can I call you back?"

Kinda fitting I'd have to run some game. This one's a softball:

ME: "Oh, okay. Pardon the intrusion."

HER: "NO I MEAN IT!!! Let me have your number and I'll call you in about
fifteen minutes."

ME: "Of course you will."

HER: "May I PLEASE have your number?"

ME: "Fine. XXX-XXX-XXXX. I'll be holding my breath."

Last thing I'mgonna do is wait by the phone for her on a Friday evening, so I go out for
a few hours. I get back around 10:30 to find a message fromMom:

Ray,

SHBFashion Called at 7:45 pm
(212) XXX-XXXX

No surprise there, since she can't prove me right by blowing me off. What IS it with
chicks and that shit?

So I call her back and she's able to talk. VERY nice at first, very happy to hear fromme.
Guess she had time to regroup. Too much time in fact. The actual conversation was an
hour or so, with a lot of fluff talk that went well. Here's the highlight reel:

HER: "So how have you BEEN?"

ME: "Not bad. I sent you a birthday card like ten years ago. Don't know if
you got it."

HER: "I did. It was very lovely."

ME: "I meant it. You're one of the nicest women I've ever met. So what are
you doing these days?"

HER: "My life is TOTALLY different now than back then. I'ma <fashion
diva job>."

ME: "Yeah, I know you always liked that stuff. I do word processing and
just started an internet publishing company. I'mdoing a book on


204
relationships and that got me thinking of you. Found your name in an
online directory so that's how I got your number."

HER: "I don't even REMEMBER that part of my life. I had a different
mindset, A DIFFERENT WEIGHT. Everything was different."

ME: "Ha. I remember college like it was yesterday. One thing I remember
about you is you were nice to everyone, no matter who they were. I
liked that about you the most."

HER: "My time there is just a blur. I'mso different now."

ME: "Well it was over a decade. We do grow up. I thought about you
because I'malways analyzing relationships that actually happen, or
may happen. You're what didn't happen."

HER: "What do you mean?"

ME: "J ust as I said. Nothing happened between us, but it could have, and
this had as much an impact as what did happen."

HER: "I don't get what you're saying."

The fuck she doesn't.

ME: "Okay, guess you don't want to talk about it. I just like to be thorough
in my writing, so I figured I'd ask you about then."

HER: "Um, Ray, have you ever considered GETTING A DOCTOR? I think
it might do you some good. Are we done?"

ME: "Sounds like you are. Let me think. Yeah, I guess we are done. Cya."
<click>

I don't know, and I don't want to find out what locked her down. Don't care anyway,
she's thirty-one, and unless she's anorexic, the "different weight" thing scares me. Okay
so she's living in Manhattan and paying at least two dimes a month in rent, but guys
don't give a shit about that, and I bet that annoys the SHIT out of her.

I KNOW she was surprised by the first call, since I was such a WUSS back in college.
Wonder if she would even have called me back otherwise; probably not but maybe.
Didn't matter, she had almost three hours to prepare and her logical social-genius brain
kicked in. Still didn't get her anywhere because I've had better arguments online with
chicks on the old AOL boards (where they censor anything that "hates on women" but
allow perpetual man-bashing). She was so LAME, like the other chicks who think we'll
never wise up. Not like I should talk I wasn't wise at all when it counted with her, but
even she can't stop Father Time.


205

"Different weight" LOL. I bet!

Ray


Without this call, 29 Reasons never gets written. I took the doctor remark as a
compliment, for she never would have been so hostile, if she thought I were really distressed,
like at the bar-meltdown. I seem to have disappointed her by becoming a PUA and seduction
guru. That means I did my jobs well. Kate wasnt supposed to like me, and I wasnt supposed
to care. Mission accomplished.


This is why housecleaning trumps damage-control every time. The reader will get the
backstory of the thirteen years post-Kate, and pre-Battle II, which scored as a draw, similar to
the Rocky-Thunderlips draw from Rocky III, where each combatant threw the other over the
ropes, out of the ring, and into the crowd. During this call, the Pope was forgiving the man who
tried to kill him in 1981, by firing at the Popemobile.

Report-1.18-The-Battle-Of-Kate-II-(Full-Text)


206
Lesson Fifteen:
Isolation From Other Men

Thanks to a bunch of homosexual PUAs in ancient Greece, men have been
socialized to spend time with other males, and even to take pride in doing so. Shows like
Entourage glorify male-bonding, but those guys have writers helping them get laid by super-
elites, something the real world does not offer. The characters are also surrounding an A-list
actor (Vincent Chase), whose leftovers are sufficient to feed the hungry wolfpack, something
else rarely offered up in the real world. The general rule is simple:

Other men are bad news until proven otherwise.

Put another way:

The Clueless-Or-Gay Rule

Is as follows:

Two males, in extended proximity, acting without a specific, well-defined,
mutually-beneficial purpose, shall be presumed fifty percent gay, or one
hundred percent clueless.

Most claimed exceptions, arent.

Between the Kate-negative waste of time, AMOGing, being gamed by closeted
homosexuals, or, worse, hanging with clueless AFCs, not sharpening your skillz because
youve used other men as an Emo crutch, and the trainwrecking by the various loser posses who
pump you for information on your live super-elite, by pretending to be on your side, it is rarely
worth spending time with other men, without a well-defined, mutually beneficial purpose. By
far, the greatest quantum leap in my results occurred when I began invoking this rule, around
1991.

Crushing The Mancrush

We know the type: hes a great guy, even a really cool guy, one men want to be like,
and RHCs want to fuck. I cant describe just how cool he is, but suffice it to say:

If he were a chick, Id fuck him myself, I tell ya.

One can thank sports talk-radio for leading the way on this one, particularly the host
who played I Will Always Love You, by Whitney Houston, as his co-host was waxing over Brett
Favre. The question is not difficult:



207
Do you want to fuck super-elites or not?

If so, start acting like it.

Financial Isolation: One Night At Dicks Stripclub

Even before Tiger Woods connected every last athlete/nightlife dot, the notion of men
funding their sexual self-destruction had become clear, thanks to a posting on a stripper support
forum about one dancers week:

My club has been a madhouse! Some sports agent rented half the VIP rooms
in the club for THREE days for all the visiting athletes for the all-star game!

The circle of death is fascinating:

The strippers get money from the sports agent;
The agent gets money from the athletes;
The athletes get money from the owners;
The owners get money from.the fans.

The seduction community has a similar structure:

The gurus run lifestyle game.
The students fund the gurus.
The students also give status to the gurus.

I call this student-funded game, the unavoidable consequence of becoming a wealthy,
famous guru. It is still game, but is no longer portable to the students. Every tactic in this
text requires little more than a basic lifestyle, a strong work ethic, patience, discipline, and the
desire to improve.

The Tiger Woods Method

Many who run hired-gun game, and do not practice financial isolation, have found
themselves in direct competition with Woods, for what seems to be every hired-gun in America.
This is financial suicide, a problem created by the laziness of many of the rich and famous, who
prefer to get their sex from low-hanging nightlife fruit. I may have met Kate in a bar, but our
love match was still contested in daytime venues, as they should have been, and at the L-I
venue of my own room, at my own party. If I could isolate Kate with $35.00 and a keg, youd
think Woods could have pulled off better. He actually was doing better in college, if his
girlfriend from that period is any indication. As Ive winged with two PUAs whose results
rivaled or exceeded Tigers, I find they can be rather gluttonous and indiscriminate.



208
If men want to waste time watching golf, and then waste money running L-I game
against the golfers they make rich, its pretty clear why Woods is getting laid more than they.
Few sports fans have gotten the financial-isolation memo, but this doesnt mean the reader has to
join the lemmings. Id rather spend three months in isolation preparing to fuck a super-elite, than
three months with a loser posse, wasting money, and making wealthy celebrities out of men who
would otherwise have to get regular jobs. I cant stop an oilman, or a doctor, from getting rich,
but men could turn professional athletes into fast-food workers, in some cases, if they ever wised
up, which doesnt seem likely in any of our lifetimes.

For a breaking update, since this text could not keep up with the scandals, it was
revealed in one news article that Tiger Woods reportedly paid $60,000.00 to a high-priced escort
agency, including $15,000.00 (thats ten Spitzers) for a single date with an internet
centerfold. Upon being caught up in the Hollywood Madam scandal, Sir Charles Sheen, who
coughed up several Spitzers for companionship, quipped that he paid them to leave after sex, a
common sentiment among celebrity Johns. Given Sheens Emo game within his two marriages,
he too may have been Bettor Off Single.

Lesson-Fifteen-Isolation-From-Other-Men-(Full-Text)

Volume II Preview:
Mo' Skillz/Mo' Problems

For as heartbreaking as the VCABM was, it wasnt that difficult. The typical AFC
thinks all his problems will be solved if he could just learn to approach his targets.if only he
could talk to them.if only he could #close them.if only he could escalate, and so on, and so
on. The reality is different:

Mo Skillz/ Mo Problems

You have to be really, really good to experience the fucked-up shit from Volume II.
Trust me


210
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Bettor Off Single:
Why True Pickup Artists Avoid Commitment

Volume II: The PUA Playbook


2010, Snodgrass Publishing Group, All Rights Reserved.
http://www.toosmarttofail.com.

Bettor Off Single. 2010, Snodgrass Publishing Group. All Rights Reserved! This text costs $44.95.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/coaching.html (Coaching) http://www.papsheets.com (the PAP sheets for horses)
http://www.toosmarttofail.com(Rays Official Website) http://www.toosmarttofail.com/rec.html (Recommendations)
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/media.html (Media Page) http://www.toosmarttofail.com/rights.html (Licensing)

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213
Lesson Sixteen:
The Feral Advantage

Define and conquer:

feral (fr'l, fr'-) (adj.)

1.
a. Existing in a wild or untamed state.

b. Having returned to an untamed state from domestication.

2. Of or suggestive of a wild animal; savage: a feral grin.

The community claim is nauseatingly naive:

"Properly applying full PUA methods will bring you to a destination of finding
a good, solid relationship with a great girl."

The great girl is easy to seduce; lord knows, Kate proved that. The relationship
itself is whats impossible, for any number of reasons, all of which are fatal to ones PUA
skillz, which have the nasty habit of terminating the moment a man believes he has found his
one special hookup, his Lisa, the most Kate seemed ready to offer me, and not for a lifetime.
The one special hookup is but a fairytale, as Neil Strauss learned, when his Lisa wound up
having a very romantic Valentines dinner with Robbie Williams, a man who gets laid like a
rockstar, because he is one. Confusing Lisa with Kate is possible, only if one has never met
their Kate. After meeting your Kate, you wont want a marriage, or an LTR, with your
Lisa.

More than any other factor, what made my game so strong over the years was that I
never stopped running it. The VCABM was my L-II bootcamp, and the PGs were taking care of
that business, leaving me a free agent in L-III. This led to an endless stream of diverse,
pharmaceutical-grade targets, and a great deal more practice than if I had settled for a
DupliKate, like HBHalloween. Once my soulmate-search terminated, ferality ensured a lack of
stagnation, or complacency, since I didnt rely on inertia to sustain my women-supply. My
targets were all seduced from scratch, far more frequently than the guy who has a girlfriend
every few years, prior to marrying in his early twenties. After Kate, I would play the field for
life, coming close to a serious LTR only a few times, and landing in no LTR of longer than four
months, though the PGs would hang around far longer, to keep my Emo skillz tuned, and to keep
me from connecting too deeply with the super-elites.



214
Few PUAs Are Truly Feral

Its a horrible question to ask:

Would lovers, having to start over, still choose each other?

Many would not. In a truly feral world, sexual free agency would ensure a much
more efficient marketplace, yet most could not handle the Emo volatility inherent in having your
partner dump you without warning. Instead, we wind up spending years with inferior targets on
sheer inertia, and our skillz atrophy, creating a vicious downward spiral, and the giant sucking
sound of settling. The feral PUA stays strong, sharp, and forever in search of a new lifetime
peak, even especially in middle-age.

Marrying The Other Kate

The movie The Family Man explored what would have happened if a successful CEO
(Cage) married his, um, Kate (Tea Leoni), the actual name of the character. In the film,
Cages character did not have to settle for DupliKate, or Lisa, so the situation is opposite, not
similar. Had I married Kate, I would have been her King of Spades, or Ace of Clubs, and wed
have found our way in Manhattan. My PUA career would also have been finished, thus
wiping every lesson from Volume II, along with Foxes, 29 Reasons, and a large chunk of
community theory. My L-III game would have remained shit, beyond what it would have
taken to physically satisfy Kate, with sex-rationing a definite possibility.

The feral approach is by far the more difficult, but this is what makes it the more
rewarding. In an LTR with even an RHC, you wont have the future opportunity that a feral
PUA can summon just by going out, or, today, going online. I like that I designated a pair of
soulmates before my marriage-aversion set in, but had no desire to repeat the soulmate-search
after the bootcamp terminated. Twenty-three years of ferality, post-Kate, had me accumulating
skillz out of necessity, with an amazing diversity of experience that would round out my
game and allow me to construct a method like Foxhunting. Active experimentation, and the
active development and deployment of L-III gimmicks, would eventually take my game
mostly to L-III, with only the PGs surviving in an EL-II. The ability to cultivate and alternate
among multiple live targets is something a boyfriend or husband cannot do. Learning to please
one target is not going to build universal skillz demanded of the feral approach. Over time,
simple commitment-aversion is therefore the strongest game of all, particularly since the extra
free time, and reduced infrastructure costs ensure a man will be wealthier, more desirable, and
much truer to himself. He will also always be on the market, ready to be tamed by that one
special challenge-fox.

Lesson-Sixteen-The-Feral-Advantage-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Two:
The Threat Is Stronger Than The Execution

I'll quote BRUUUUUUCEEE!, in a song he wrote for Gary "U.S." Bonds:

I know what's on your mind
Know what you want to do
But if you mess with her
I'm gonna mess with you

As in the NFL, violence is strategy in seduction:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Violent AFC AMOGs
NOW PLAYING: Walk This Way, by Run-DMC
IN THE NEWS: Howard Stern Gains Market Share In Philadelphia

Guys, there is ONE situation where you will lose to an AMOG who cheats: if he is
VIOLENT.

SHBNautilus (9.9) works out at the local gym, and this 350-pound BRUISER who
works there has taken a fancy to her. I overheard himtalking to another friend about
her, and he's like:

HIM: "Ah yeah, she's special."

Fucking FAGGOT sounded like a GIRL when he said the s-word in a high-pitched
voice, as if he fucking OWNED her. If they were fucking I'd have known, since it
would have shown, if she wanted it known. If not, he wouldn't be talking shit. He's
scaring guys away fromher but there's nothing you can do about it until she tells him to
fuck off and he backs away, or they lock him up if he doesn't. For now, he's like a
violent DOG you have to deal with to talk to her, a dog that thinks it owns YOU too.

Yeah, like I'mgonna risk life and limb for this. NEXT!

Ray


If our Congress werent so pussy-whipped, it would change domestic-violence laws to
cover all forms of romantic violence, including intimidation for the purpose of marking territory,
especially if not authorized by the target. Many goons know they can intimidate others into


216
silence, and use this to tell outright lies, the most common that the target is not interested, with
the rival playing it safe and bowing out, since target-confirmation risks target-contact. The
target winds up thinking the other men were unworthy, or not man enough to stick around,
chooses the brute, winds up abused, and then asks why does this happen to me?


The movie In The Bedroom is perhaps the best example of a nice guy having to
navigate an abusers obstacle course to get the sex for which he should never have had to endure
even the slightest risk, save for a vanquished rival who not only cant take no for an answer, but
who was given respect as his targets flavor-of-the-month, in a way he refuses to extend to his
replacement. The recent beating of Bryan Steinhauer is yet another. Too many gurus
downplay the risk of L-I game, and L-I venues. Even Kate was surrounded by a half-dozen
males, and could have been another SHBDye, for all I knew.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7569-Field-Report-Two-The-
Threat-Is-Stronger-Than-The-Execution-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Three:
Scoring Into An Empty Net

Class drop:

DATE: March 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: NHBCindyBrady
NOW PLAYING: I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, by U2
IN THE NEWS: Hoosiers AimFor First NCAA Title In Thirteen Years

Got back into the game, rather unexpectedly, thanks to NHBCindyBrady (6.6), a nice
girl fromthe northeast who looks like her namesake, which was kinda weird. Met her in
center city with her friend, UGKensington, who was well below my standards, but this
one was borderline. Isolated both of themback to my apartment a few weeks ago, but
nothing happened (didn't want UGKensington). NHBCindyBrady gets the memo, calls
me up, and opens me:

HER: "I think you're cute."

I invite her to come over this afternoon. She accepts. We fuck. She goes home. Gotta
love the easy ones.

Ray


Class drop.


Note to female readers: be the class drop.

Report-Three-Scoring-Into-An-Empty-Net-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Seventeen:
My Personal Triple Crown

In late 1986, while working a relaxation gimmick (flotation tank hypnosis, three
hours), I emerged with my brain clear, bought a bunch of used chess books, decided to become a
Kate-positive aspiring world chess champion, gave myself fifteen years to succeed, and rounded
out my plan by aiming for the Firestone Tournament of Champions, in bowling, and the
$150,000.00 World Series of Handicapping, at Penn National, near Harrisburg, PA, a prize
which was already within my reach. I would study chess most of the time, bowl a few days a
week, plus one evening in a league, and spend whatever time was left over betting horses, after a
winter recovery from a debacle at the Meadowlands simulcasts that fall. Garden State Park
loomed in the spring, running at night, with Philadelphia Park running days all year. All I
needed was an edge, which was not so quick in coming, because minor-track racing didnt work
like NYRA. Chess was now my most inexpensive mindbuilding outlet, and it was something to
do whenever I had nothing to do.

My choice of chess as a primary alpha gimmick was motivated mostly by Kate, but
also by the need to cut costs. It just seemed very Kate-positive to put all my spare time to
productive use, and I figured a strong international ranking might impress her. Had I been a GM
by The Battle of Kate II, she might have found that oddly reassuring, but I had chosen another
path by then, electing to quit chess in 1991, mostly because I realized I would not be winning the
Frank J. Samford, Jr. Memorial Fellowship, awarded to the most promising American chess
master under age twenty-five. This meant I would need an Elo rating of 2200+just to apply,
and a lot stronger to win, since GMs were winning it every year, even if they never went on to
threaten for the title.

By early 1987, I had retreated to freelancing, which left me many hours a day to study
chess. I had moved back in with Mom, who had moved out of my place a few months earlier,
because her place was nicer, and we needed to again cut costs. Once our profits from the fall
were spent, we were barely getting by, but the campus supplied us with steady clients, and things
were looking up for the future. Rent was much lower than even the stabilized Manhattan rent,
and the cost of living was cut by about one-third, particularly food costs. Buffalo wings, a
legacy from my college years, were a favorite, especially at $0.39 a pound, a sign of how it pays
to beat the Read Queen. Eating out was cheap, center city was right next door, and the campus
was incredibly target-rich, which slowly awakened me from my post-Kate, post-VCABM funk.
The few times I tried any game, I would crash and burn, and not care one bit, since I was still
terribly hung up on my inability to find another Kate.

Lifestyle Is More Than DHV Stories

This continued alpha isolation, now at close to three years, except for Kate, violated
many community principles, most notably my not getting out in the field, not practicing on
new targets, and devoting my time to male-dominated pursuits, such as horseplaying and chess.


219
This was a direct consequence of the OTL and Kate, because it generally took a super-elite to
catch my eye, even if I had to wait an exceptionally long time for one to go live. While waiting,
my alpha gimmicks ensured the dry-spells would not be wasted, as I would emerge with a much
stronger gimmick to deploy on the next live super-elite. Knowing that chicks dig chessplayers, I
had begun to equate chess improvement with seduction improvement, and with improved
winning chances with Kate. This motivated me to train sixty to eighty hours a week, or about the
amount of time Fischer used to train at his peak, all in preparation for the 1987 World Open. Had
I relied on the community, this is not the lifestyle advice I would have been given.

Formal Education: The Universal Alpha Gimmick

For as much as I was a slacker in school, I did put six years in at a top Manhattan
public elementary school, followed by two solid years at a preparatory academy, topped off by
four years at a cool school that gave me something resembling social skillz, and a
knowledge of how to submit a headshot. The year of college added a layer of respectability, and
having it was reassuring. In mid-1987, I strongly considered taking a permanent office job at
UPenn, due to their six-credit-per-semester education benefit, but figured thered be time to do
that if I ever quit chess. Instead, I just slaved over the board, for up to seventeen hours a day at
one point, in a form of academic study that rivaled any Ivy League graduate curriculum. I
carried just as many books, and blended nicely on campus, even if my game had gone to shit.

Leader Of Men

Mysterys battle-cry, and the inspiration for my various if-he-were-a-chick. battle
cries, is predicated on the notion that super-elites want to fuck men who are emotional, spiritual,
political, and financial leaders of other men, i.e., alphas with power over the beta. A
world chess champion is a leader of men, and this may be what tripped the light off in Kates
brain, as she saw a bit of me in The American, essentially Bobby Fischer with a personality.
Indeed, I had dusted off Fischers blueprint almost in its entirety, and was progressing at roughly
the same rate as he, even going as far as to copy his opening repertoire, figuring any move good
enough for Bobby, is good enough for me. Within two years I would retract this claim, as I had
begun finding weaknesses in Fischers storied moves, to be expected, since my opponents
were much stronger than Spassky.

Whatever your life goals, taking time to set them is somewhat early is never a bad
idea. It will help to have youth, fitness, and even a high CUPID rating, but if that were enough,
my age peers had similar chances, and most did not. I hadnt gamed a target in ages, instead
spending 1986 in alpha isolation. Yet another year had passed, with me loving Kate more than
ever, and just passing time over the board prior to my next move the following spring. This is
not standard PUA development, but the ultimate outcome endorses it. Quick seduction has
nothing to do with how quickly it may take one to learn how to quickly seduce. Discuss this
Single-Lesson-Seventeen-My-Personal-Triple-Crown-(Full-Text)


220
Field Report Four:
Treat Your Pivot As If She Were Your Cousin

The Game is not always on:

DATE: April, 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: SHBCousin Is Sleeping On My Couch
NOW PLAYING: I Think We're Alone Now, by Tiffany
IN THE NEWS: Mets On Verge Of Elimination

I thought the last FR was weird. This is weirder. Much, much weirder.

Get a call around 8:30 p.m. fromSHBCousin that she's dropping by Mom's. Bit of a
drive fromthe NYC area so we're surprised, but she gets here later, hangs out with the
family, we catch up, usual family shit. She asks if she can stay with me, and I'mlike
sure. Around midnight, Momheads to bed, and we head over to my place. Then she
opens up.

Marriage isn't going well. Knew that was coming; her boyfriend's a complete prick.
Called me a slacker when I visited for a week last year after busting my ass on resumes
during the crush. People at her wedding are telling her she needs a guy like me, and I
can't say I've never thought that way, but not much, and not with her in distress. Still, if
it's anyone but my cousin I'm probably getting laid in an hour.

I decide to make the most of it and just listen to her going on about her marriage, how it
fell apart, how she knows she'll be getting a divorce (told her I knew that too), and we
talk until like 4:00 a.m. Now she's sleeping on my couch. Will take her out for pizza
when she gets up, then send her home. Might as well make use of the pivot.

Ray


Jesus Christ: shes my cousin! That would be ill oops.


Thats just sick. Sick, I tell ya. How could you even think that?

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7573-Field-Report-Four-
Treat-Your-Pivot-As-If-She-Were-Your-Cousin-(Full-Text)


221
Field Report Five:
Sex For The Mind

Long live mindbuilding:

DATE: May 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: I J ust Met The Sexiest Woman Ever!
NOW PLAYING: Open Your Heart, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Congress Opens Iran-Contra Investigation

J ust got taken to Another World by NHBHypnoMassage (7.3). There are no words to
describe this. Give me a choice between a stripclub, a whorehouse, and this, and I
choose this, every time. Perfectly "clean" (PG-rated at best) experience, but sexier than
a god damn porn movie. This is the future of sex! Don't know how much was business
or personal, but she's into the tournament chess thing, after I told her I was relaxing in
their tank to prepare for a big tournament. She perks up like she's into me, a lot like
SHBFashion did, but I was paying $45.00 for an hour and a half of her time, so I didn't
know what to do. Never had a massage before so I just did what she said. I lie down on
the massage table and she gets to work.

Her hands are expert! Hits every muscle in the right place, very relaxing. Starts talking
to the muscles and they relax more. Pretty soon I'mzoning out, so I guess it's working.
She keeps going, then pauses about halfway through, offering a "relaxation exercise."
Sounds like hypnosis without the name, so I say sure, and she gets to work on me with
her voice. The woman is a fucking SORCERESS! I go under a fucking SPELL to her
words, most amazing feeling of my life. It was like total mind control and the massage
made everything relax even easier. She like enslaved me or something. I let her
finished, awoke frommy spell, wanting her more than anyone I've ever known (even
SHBStore), ready to kick ass at chess, and thinking only one thing: I've GOT to learn
how to do this to an SHB. Ray


I have a thing for sorceresses. They know who they are. Their defining characteristic
is an amazing level of hypnosis skillz, that are not quite easy to find online now, but not then.


This is an acquired taste, generally specific to mindbuilders. My mistake as a youth
was not singling out this, and only this, type of target. I would have been much happier.
Discuss this chapter on our forum: http://tinyurl.com/bos-fr-5


222
Field Report Six:
I Dont See You Guys Rating The Kind Of Kate Im Contemplating

Kates gift kept on giving:

DATE: J une, 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: SHBTwentySix Is Checkmated
NOW PLAYING: Im Still Standing, by Elton J ohn
IN THE NEWS: Movement To Draft North For President Swells

This chess thing is going INSANE! Picked up a groupie outside the tournament hall,
and took her upstairs to her roomwhile her b/f was playing downstairs!!!
SHBTwentySix (9.3) is outside the tournament hall, after I'mdone winning my game
and another class prize. Her guy, ProfessorDude, is stuck in some 40/2 time control
(SLOOWWWWW chess; I play g/30 "action" chess), so we got forever to talk. Stupid
fucker leaves his chick sitting unattended for that long no wonder she fucked me.

She asks me about my chess, I tell her I want to win the Samford Fellowship before I
turn twenty-five, and try to become World Champion. Told her I train "seventeen hours
a day," and she's impressed. She's twenty-six, didn't even ask what she does, because we
talked about me for the whole time. I isolate her to her roomwith a simple line a few
minutes later:

ME: "Looks like we've got some time to kill. Want to hang out?"

After a brief stopover at the hotel bar, the next thing I know, we're in the elevator,
making out, then spill into her room, and it's SHBPolitics all over again. Toy around
with the massage stuff but I need to take a course to learn to do it right. Ray


This was a class drop, something few SHBs ever experience, which often makes it a
subtle neg, since I lacked the fear most of my rivals had. ProfessorDudes priorities were
seriously out of whack. A man his age could not have had anything better to do than fuck his
girlfriend.


Id have thanked Kate more profusely for her gift. Also would have considered the
wisdom of stealing a target in this situation. It could have turned out much worse. Discuss
this chapter on our forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7576-
Bettor-Off-Single-Field-Report-Six-I-Dont-See-You-Guys-Rating-The-Kind-Of-Kate.....


223
Field Report Seven:
Sleeping In The Bed Of A Fourteen Year-Old Girl

This was more innocent than it sounds:

DATE: September, 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Have New "Chess Family" +Future Target
NOW PLAYING: Touch of Gray, by The Grateful Dead
IN THE NEWS: Debate To Add North To Mt. Rushmore Heats Up

This is WEIRD!!! TheoryDude calls me up, invites me to play in this faraway
tournament. Says we can stay at PatronDude's house for the tournament, and I'mlike
cool, so he picks me up and drives us there. It's a three-day tournament and we get there
on Friday night. TheoryDude takes the couch, and I get to sleep in the bed of a fourteen
year-old girl, HBFriendSis (8.4), PatronDude's sister. Poor thing had to give up her
bedroomfor a couple of chessplayers, and take her mom's room. Parents have separate
bedrooms or maybe it's a guest room. I don't know it's a big house, with all these
modern appliances that are really cool. Made my own breakfast! Dinner was restaurant-
quality; PatronDude's mom, HBFriendMom(still an 8.3 in her forties) is like the best
homemaker in America, but I think she also works.

Not like I was going to game a fourteen year-old, and I need somewhere to stay for all
the tournaments that are nearby. It's cool they put me up, but they get a strong player in
the house, so everybody wins. Getting more offers like that, especially frompeople who
want free lessons. PatronDude's family knows it's tough to earn a lot when training, so
they cut me all the slack in the world. Cool family. Won't have to worry about
HBFriendSis for a few years, so I just ignored her.

Ray


In a word, or seven: tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....

Meet Le Club, the Fourth Ace, who would go legal after the Third.


A dowry would have been nice, for when the time came. Discuss this chapter on our
forum: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7579-Field-Report-Seven-
Sleeping-In-The-Bed-Of-A-Fourteen-Year-Old-Girl-(Full-Text)


224
Field Report Eight:
Positively Kate

Score another dividend for Kate:

DATE: September, 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: #closed SHBJ offrey On Amtrak
NOW PLAYING: Ballerina Girl, by Lionel Richie
IN THE NEWS: Gorbachev Opening Iron Curtain

Got the "talking to women" thing down. Today's train ride to Manhattan (going up there
to train chess and bet some horses) proved that. Wind up sitting next to SHBJ offrey
(9.7) all the way fromPhiladelphia to NYC, and I #close her. She wants me to call her
next time I'min town. My secret? In a word: chess!! I fucking KNEW when
SHBFashion got all wet about that stupid musical (written by weak players of course)
that I had something, and now it's materializing. Best thing is everyone thinks SHBs
don't like chessplayers. Well they don't, usually, but I'mlike an exception.

SHBJ offrey tells me how she just joined the J offrey Ballet, whatever that is. Apparently
it's something big because when I told Boards about her, he's like "she's in Joffrey?"
Like yeah, and SHBJ ulliard was at J ulliard. Manhattan is loaded with artsy bullshit.
Dancers are dancers: they're all fucking HOT. Should have taken dance classes a lot as a
kid probably but I hate dancing. It's fucking GAY. She wants to be a "prima ballerina"
which she said takes like forever, and I told her it sounds similar to what it takes to be a
grandmaster (GM) at chess. Got deep rapport because we understood each other's
lifestyle, and what it's like to be in the arts, in a country that doesn't appreciate them.
Definitely gonna follow up. Ray


The difference between the Kate-positive lifestyle and the DHV story. Suddenly, a
Joffrey ballerina thought of me as a creative peer, an artist, just like her. Who was I to argue?


Super-elites dig chessplayers! They also ride Amtrak when men with regular jobs are
not in proximity, but chessplayers on their way to Mecca for training or tournament play, are.
No rockstar lifestyle was required here, just a free day, and travel expenses, for a day in
Manhattan. Public transportation is by far the most underrated L-I venue of all. Discuss this
Single-Field-Report-Eight-Positively-Kate-(Full-Text)


225
Field Report Nine:
The War Of The Roses

How the flower companies stay in business is beyond me. Racetrack degenerates win more
often:

DATE: 10 Oct 1987 21:14:02 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: When Will I Learn? Nice Guys Finish LAST!
NOW PLAYING: The Way It Is, by Bruce Hornsby
IN THE NEWS: Hart Early DemFrontrunner

Took a calculated risk with SHBJ offrey: sent her a dozen red roses.

She freaks out, thanks me for them, says she thought they were a thank-you for a performance
(people waste money like that? damn). Actually agreed to meet me today (Saturday) in
Manhattan, but then called to cancel after thinking it over. No surprise there. Only sent the
roses to avoid a time-consuming LJ BF

Same shit as usual: there's a lay in there if I play it cool and let the timing work itself out, and
a crash-and-burn if I show any kind of feelings or that I want a serious relationship. She was
breaking up with her b/f so maybe she got back with him, but it was obviously the roses that
did me in. Didn't have many other options for gaming her, so maybe I knew that and wanted
to get rid of her by scaring her off LOL. Nah I wanted her to want me, but they never do
when I'mserious or attentive. Seems when I get them, it's in the first hour I talk to themor not
at all. Funny thing is all I said on the card with the roses was "You've got a friend in
Pennsylvania," my new state's slogan. I wasn't even asking for a relationship.

All was not lost: won over $100.00 on Creme Fraiche in the J ockey Club Gold Cup, and
picked up some nice chess books, after playing in Washington Square Park all day. Ray


Never send roses to a target you havent fucked. It will not work.


When dancers, roses, Manhattan, and me are involved, its just bad news.

Nine-The-War-Of-The-Roses-(Full-Text)


226
Field Report Ten:
Feral Employment

The other half of my double life was that of mild-mannered office temp. The
"game" this led to was 180 degrees opposite what I was finding as ChessDude:

DATE: Fall 1987
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Do NOT Shit Where You Eat!
NOW PLAYING: Jacob's Ladder, by Huey Lewis
IN THE NEWS: J ackson Declares Underdog Candidacy

Want to get laid? Become a fucking OFFICE TEMP! I've turned down at least six clear
opportunities for lays in the last two months on different temp assignments, all the same
pattern:

First, there's HBReceptionist (8.5), hot, twenty-seven, divorced, and with a four-year-old
son. Ready-made family is nice, but the kid might not like his momwith another guy, so
that's a complication, as is working with her. Firmis all women, they offer me a job my
second day, I tell them to ask my agency, because I was only there to temp. Pay would
have been okay but I didn't think they'd make up their mind that fast. Kinda weird. At
one point she just blurts out "you have the most amazing eyes," the female equivalent of
saying she wants to fuck me. A chick ever says this to you, just kiss her.

Next up is HBKorean (8.3), who I met on a one-day assignment. She starts
"complaining" about some guy propositioning her, and we're talking about sex for the
next hour. We get like NO work done, I finish, don't #close her even though I could
have. Probably could have done her in the conference roomif I'd really wanted.

Then there's SHBFashionWannabe (9.3), Asian, a lot like SHBFashion, just not as hot,
not as stylish, not as smart, and not as creative. Assistant to the HR manager, has me on
some shit database. Had like NO money when I took this. Even had to walk to work
due to no carfare, and pack my lunch, since I didn't get paid for the last week's job until
Wednesday, by mail! It was worth it, because now I'mflush again, and I got to spend
four days isolated with this chick, still pretty smart, very ambitious, and bragging about
her thirty year-old boyfriend, and how she thinks younger guys are immature. We get
the project done and she wants me back in a few weeks but I'll be off to the next
challenge.

In the summer, I worked at a back-office for a big finance company, with fifty women
and me, about a dozen HBs and a few SHBs. An NHB grabbed my dick as I was
walking by, which was kinda cool, but she never followed up. Maybe I was supposed
to? Kinda freaky someone would do that and she wasn't that hot. Worked near a true
freak, SHBQuiet (9.4), who knew I knew she was a freak. We always had brief


227
conversations when I had to drop a paper on her desk, slightly more formalized, but in a
way that expressed discretion. The body language chemistry was strong. Doubt she
wanted anything fromwork either, but if I did that, it would have been with her. My
UGSupervisor (2.7) probably wanted me, gave me a lot of shit, but I left due to low pay
and not wanting to work in the same place forever. After that, got dumped froma travel
agency by NHBClean, an ADHD-type who never stopped moving or talking. Didn't
miss them at all.

Making about $9.00 an hour pretty steady, but that's up a few bucks already. Freelance
work supplements that, and I study chess when I can. The work targets are mostly from
the South Philadelphia or Northeast, went to work straight out of high school (mostly
catholic), and don't have much of a life outside work. Don't recommend work game
unless you're really desperate and you know it won't interfere, but it always does sooner
or later.

On the homefront, had dinner dates with HBBuffaloWings (8.3), for whomI made
buffalo wings and had dinner (makeout, no lay), and HBBornAgain (8.2), a neighbor
who allowed all kinds of kino, but was averse to kissing. The religious ones are friendly
and flirtatious until you try something. I'mSOL with her unless I want marriage. Ray


For the most part, Philadelphia lacks the pharmaceutical-grade secretaries who
populate Manhattan, like the OTL did in her prime. Few in either town tend to dig chessplayers.
I also had a difficult enough time finding office work that hitting on coworkers would have
risked the few jobs open to males that I could get. With no alpha gimmicks to aid my
workplace game, results were too sparse, though I did catch frequent IOIs during my travels.
Most corporate hired-guns arent used to male secretaries, or the eight hours a day of L-II
isolation it brings. More often than not, wherever I worked, I usually had quasi-isolation and
proximity, with some targets liking me enough to send strong IOIs that I would just ignore.
SHBFashionWannabe let me know, subtly, how disqualified I was, for not being thirty, an
executive, or wealthy.


Seeing a woman my age already achieving such strong employment separation
brought home the strength of the beauty premium. Her salary was already nearly double mine,
and double that of the forty year-old, African-American temp who also worked on the
assignment. Most people do not care about this, even if it harms their own paycheck, while
running up the costs of doing business, and passing those costs onto consumers, and the
government, in the form of an increased national debt. On a more personal level,
SHBFashionWannabe had me figuring Kate was even more stylish, leaving me thinking she had
made the right decision. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
Ten-Feral-Employment-(Full-Text)


228
Lesson Eighteen:
Moral Hazard

Several loaded questions which recur in Big Media have the same answer:

Why do men cheat?

Why do nice guys finish last?

Why do women return to men who beat them or cheat on them?

Why do half of all marriages end in divorce?

Why do men fear commitment?

Why dont men ask women out anymore?

You can add:

Why do people state the obvious in the form of a question, the answer to which
they pretend not to know?

Lets not forget my favorite:

Why did Chesley Were Gonna Be In The Hudson Sullenberger get a forty-
percent cut in pay, along with his pension wiped out, in 2009, while bailed-out
investment-bankers got millions in bonus payments?

The ultimate moral hazard, the friend zone, is a terrible trap for the AFC, who
enables the love-addicted, drama-addicted target, by entering the most one-sided of all EL-IIs.
With the OTL, I didnt mind hearing about her love life, but only for the bootcamp value, since I
got to learn of my rivals tactics, but thats a far cry from some drama-queen requiring verbal
gymnastics to prove she isnt the jerk-groupie her actions clearly say she is. This was one
reason I didnt mind running home after Kate cancelled our date. She was left to try to make me
the lead story on the 11:00 news, and the beer posse had its limits for hearing about drama.
Perhaps someone in the stated the obvious:

HER: Gee, Ray went home. I wonder why he didnt tell me.

HIM: I dunno, you think maybe standing him up gave him the idea you
didnt like him? Maybe hes fucking his high school girlfriend. If you
dont give a shit about the guy, why talk about him? Now pass the
sour cream.


229

The Battle of Kate showed the moral hazard of not treating your soulmate like a slut,
since I couldnt have wound up any worse off, if Id attempted L-III escalation; that much is
perfectly clear. Even verbal escalation at The Battle of Kate could have been pulled off, but I
wasnt sure she wanted to be fucking me with a hall full of people just outside at my party. The
entire courtship was a moral hazard, because it turned something which should have been taken
seriously into a late-night, drunken crapshoot, one men rarely win until they begin treating it as
such, at which point they are usually feral, and LTR-averse, in addition to being marriage-
averse. Now Ill address the questions from above:

Why Targets Choose Cheaters

Boolean logic explains this harem mentality pretty well:

1. Hot chicks dig winners;
2. Hes with a hot chick; therefore
3. Hes a winner

Few men cheat. Most cant get a date! Females do not hate cheaters, despite what
CNN tried to claim one recent night, when it said women hate Tiger and that he was persona
non-grata among women. Apparently, sixteen of these women did not get the memo. This was
an extreme case, but it illustrates how the rich get richer, in seduction, or in life. While any man
can improve, the target-classs division of our gender into men who can and cannot get laid, is
more or less accurate, and more or less static, particularly with age, because sexual confidence is
easily telegraphed, and not easily faked. Toss in the number of targets who are simply fooled by
liars, and its obvious that cheating pays, almost as much as being an America-bankrupting
CEO.

It should be noted that the underlying mate-copying theory, a form of social-proof (a
concept popularized by Cialdini and others) validated by researchers in 2000 (a year after 29
Reasons!) is the foundation of the pivot.

Why The Best Man Loses

Four reasons:

1. Lying pays.
2. Crime pays.
3. Honesty is restricted by truth.
4. Power corrupts.

If you play by the rules, and your opponents are juicing, you are not going to lead
the league in homers, but you still might get the twenty or thirty a year a solid slugger can


230
expect. The rulebreakers, however, will rule. Even when they dont, the rulers become
rulebreakers, as Tiger Woods has so conclusively shown. Some will say not to worry about
others breaking the rules, but thats like saying you should pay your cable bill, even when it
stands down as your neighbors steals his from your hookup. Liars and thieves do the same thing,
by trading on the honesty and resources of others, to steal targets, who care only which man has
the most toys, not whether or not he played fair.

While any many can lie, the criminal is more formidable, due to his illgotten gains,
and his potential for committing crimes on behalf of the target, who proves herself a criminal by
tapping this resource. My favorite example Martin Marty Frankel, who built a $218 million
empire by purchasing an insurance company for $3.5 million, using its own policy reserves
to cover the check! From there, he was off to the races. Before things went bad, Marty had a
Connecticut mansion, a harem numbering fifteen, including one RHC who committed suicide
because she couldnt be his girlfriend. Martys game included ads in the Village Voice,
such as millionaire seeks submissive female, or attractive females wanted for clerical work and
S&M. This would not have interested the OTL, who had her pick among the wealthy, while
Kate would have laughed.

Until the best man wins, moral hazard shall prevail, and the badguy, or the liar, will
score the lay. If he is a billionaire athlete, he might become the badguy, because he already
has more money than the criminal, except his wealth is legitimate, and sustainable. The honest
male stands no chance against this. I chose to do this by applying my intelligence to
mindbuilding, concentrating on my strengths, for maximum yield on my time investment, and
built my entire game around this. My lifestyle game was run through my horseplaying,
through which I would attempt to hit it big, perhaps even overnight, as Id almost done with the
Double Ex, or could have done with larger wagers. Typing and temping offered financial
stability, and allowed me to patiently rebuild my racetrack ROI.

This moral hazard is why I spent most of my teens and adult life learning game,
rather than just marrying my soulmate, no longer having to hunt, and being free to engage in a
more productive life. Instead of living the AFC dream, I had to construct a PUA lifestyle,
thanks to the OTL, and then Kate, deciding I wasnt worth marrying. Instead of giving up on
pharmaceutical-grade women, I had to learn how to seduce them as a feral PUA, which diverted
the majority of my intellectual resources, and precluded a normal career. On a larger scale, it
is the Diamond who creates most of the moral hazard, for without her, Marty would have no
motivation to steal, and I would have had no motivation to look beyond the OTL, who, in turn,
would have had no reason to look beyond me. This text is work of which Im proud, but its
hardly on a par with the scientific or social advances to which I could have contributed. I do not
regret putting getting laid above such an achievement, because, if the best man wins, I never
should have had to make this choice.



231
Why Do Women Stay With Cheaters And Abusers?

Actions speak louder than words. Occams razor slices through the bullshit nicely
here: obviously, they like these man, for reasons their actions make painfully obvious. If an
abuser, they want a goon, and if a cheater, they would rather have part of a winner than all of a
loser. Men who play Captain Saveaho will defend this toxic target-type to the death (his or the
guy he AMOGs), all in the hope of getting laid by the whore he treats as a Madonna. Because
this target-type is toxic, it can almost always be found in most any L-I venue. SHBDye wasnt
quite this bad, but if she turned out that way, it wouldnt have shocked me. Given what got me
the makeout with SHBPrep, she definitely was that bad, and I just knew enough to cash in,
however briefly.

Why Do Half Of All Marriages End In Divorce?

Call it the arrogance bubble, with divorce the point at which the emotional crisis
cannot be avoided, and the target needs a bailout, from a new, preferably superior, male. The
basis is simple:

A woman cannot improve a man by fucking him.

Every super-elite seems to think she can, but all she can do is improve his reputation,
then give him credit for the improvement. The OTL and Kate could have done this easily with
me, providing the ultimate in social-proof, and opening the doors to the halls of power, which
would have been in their interest. Any man they fucked was instantly elevated to high-status,
including FunDude, and, of course, ItalianDude, GuitarDude, and LimoDude. When a target
chooses wrong, yet insists convincing the world her man is superior, at some point, her need to
end the marriage will trump the need to protect her reputation, she will sweep the mistake under
the rug, and start over. Since most men tend to marry the hottest chick who will have them, they
wind up enabling this, by professing love, in order to preserve their women-supply.

Why Do Men Fear Commitment?

Name your moral hazard:

1. His game goes to shit.
2. Sex is rationed.
3. An EL-II is required.
4. He usually has to settle.
5. Hotter targets will want him to trade up.
6. Its expensive.
7. Divorce court.



232
Even in middle-age, I am still content with my ferality, since Im better positioned to
score a super-elite tomorrow than most of my peers. If I were trapped in a marriage, even to the
OTL or Kate, at this point, I would have to be content with the memories that would have come
with having each of them throughout their prime, something more than likely enough to sustain
my commitment for a lifetime, , but not for anything but the Four Aces, since they would have
left me with few or no regrets, another reason its wise to aim high, particularly in ones
soulmate-search, since a feral PUA can move on after briefly settling, while an AFC husband
cannot, and is not supposed to, because, as a nice guy, well, looks just arent supposed to matter
(another moral hazard).

Why Is Dating Dead?

Occam! We need you:

HER: Dont expect sex just because you paid for a date.

HIM: Thanks for the warning.

As mentioned earlier, L-II isolation is now plentiful, something not the case prior to
the sexual revolution, when females restricted even L-II access to their suitors, who were
expected to follow the rules of courtship, something I attempted to do with Kate, until I got fed
up with orbiting, and took matters into my own hands. Time was, it was a given that L-II
isolation equated to courtship, and that dating was a part of that process. Today, all a date does
is eliminate a previously nonexistent ambiguity from the L-II isolation. In the old days, sex was
not tied to dating, which made it more like modern L-II isolation, but this left traditional dating
without a purpose, other than exploitation of the males resources, or his letting the target know
he wants to fuck her, which destroys any romance which may once have been attached to it.

Even if Kate didnt want to date me, asking her on a traditional date forced her to
reject me, when I could have sustained the EL-II indefinitely, which I didnt want to do after the
OTL, so my hand was equally forced. The modern PUA will not bother asking out his Kate,
and this is tactically wise, though hell eventually have to risk L-III escalation of some kind.
With Kate, verbal escalation in the cafeteria would have been ideal (since we were already on a
real date), or no later than The Battle of Kate, which is probably what she was expecting,
presuming she wasnt there just to tease me. This is also why I presume winning chances with
Kate, since it makes no sense that she would have gone out of her way to have NHBCig open
me, or probed me for as long as she did, particularly with several rather unambiguous IOIs. It
was only when I tried to date her that I got rejected, even if I could have scored a lay several
times before that, something definitely counterintuitive to the AFC.

Unless we return to game being run only on dates, in the context of courtship,
traditional dating will fall by the wayside, leaving mostly Diamonds exploiting well-off men, or
poorer mens TURD-money, by merely going through the motions when men are foolish enough


233
to spring for evenings out. I got my date with the OTL by purchasing it, while LimoDude
purchased a great deal more. He spent way less on the Billy Joel concert than I did at Van
Halen, and needed only to buy her a few drinks upon meeting her, since he could isolate her to
his Limo, and his seven-figure apartment at Park and 92
nd
, a block I had never realized was
wealthier than my own, due to the neighborhood directly to the east. This is a subtle advantage
of wealth, since it eliminates the need for dropping TURD-money, the way other men would
have to (either by spending more time in an L-I venue, or by having to stay in a hotel), in order
to compete.

The Bottom Line

To the extent Im sympathetic to the target-classs complaints about men, it is the
targets responsibility to eliminate any underlying moral hazard. If she wants honest men, yet
punishes honest men sexually, she shouldnt be surprised when men lie. If she breaks up with
men because a logical analysis of the relationship reveals its not leading anywhere, she
shouldnt act like a narcissistic, power-tripping bitch when choosing. Most arrogant targets
selection process boils down to a declaration that says:

Im hot and Ill fuck any guy I want!!

Yet her fucking him does nothing to improve him, and, once the novelty of being the
center of attention (mostly because no one can figure out why she chose so poorly), shes merely
stuck with an inferior man, at which point she can create new drama, and solve her relationship
problem, by dumping him, and repeating the cycle anew, until her looks go, she winds up a
single mother, or even the jerks no longer want anything to do with her. All the while, desperate
AFC orbiters will cling to her every word, thinking she is on the verge of wising up and
choosing them, while she loses respect for them, solely because they have this belief.
Sometimes, shell flush out the AFC by lavishing attention on some jerk in his presence,
because, if he really only wants friendship, he shouldnt mind.

The most a man should do with a toxic target like this, is just note any moral hazards
she is creating, and not agree to function as her therapist, particularly if her problems are self-
inflicted, which, usually, they will be. Even before the community, most every AFC would
note the EL-II who complains about jerks, spends tons of time with him, sings his praises as a
boyfriend (for anyone but her, of course), yet claims not to be attracted to him in that way.
Obviously, if she valued the nice guys she claimed to want, shed jump at the chance for a guy
like this, yet even the guy refuses to note the obvious when she thumbs her nose. If he calls
her on this bullshit, she might aggress, claiming hes just trying to get laid like the jerks, or has
a poor attitude that explains why he cant get laid, even if she never makes clear why the
jerks can. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7588-Bettor-Off-Single-Lesson-
Eightteen-Moral-Hazzard-(Full-Text)



234
Field Report Eleven:
Being, Winning, And Fucking The Prize

Fire-at-will game at its finest:

DATE: J anuary 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: NHBQuakertown Checkmated
NOW PLAYING: So Emotional, by Whitney Houston
IN THE NEWS: Wild Rice Causes Hart Attack

Picked up yet another lay through my chessplaying, this time NHBQuakertown (7.6),
that I met through some friend who gave me her number. We talked for a few weeks,
and she offered to meet me at the tournament I just finished. Told her to come by
Saturday night, about an hour after the third round started. PERFECT timing, since I'm
polishing off my opponent just as she shows up. All she sees is me winning. That I beat
a guy rated 1542 wouldn't have impressed her but they never check that deep. If you
win, you're alpha, if not, you're beta. She said she asked around and people said I'm
pretty good but new. About right. Rating climbed over 1900 finally.

TheoryDude's got a few hours to go, so I isolate NHBQuakertown back to her car. We
talk about chess for a few minutes, kino starts escalating, talk about her wanting to move
to Philadelphia, then more kino, then a makeout, then my first -- and LAST -- lay in a
car. It looks a lot cooler than you're not the one doing gymnastics to make everything
work.

Head back to the tournament, finish up with four out of five points, grabbing a $120.00
prize for u2000, not bad for a fun weekend. Moving up slowly through the ranks, but
still hearing all the too-old crap. I'mfucking TWENTY-ONE years old! Large group of
child prodigies are the darlings of the USCF, they get free lessons from"qualified"
teachers who have a racket ($35.00 an hour they get). Kids are on scholarship at Dalton
and other prep schools. Most have ratings around mine. So far my rating's kept pace
with most of themso I don't think it's age. Long as I have "championship potential" I'll
have a DHV, but without it, I wouldn't even bother playing.

TheoryDude NEVER gets anywhere when we go out. Already #closed a few HBs he
couldn't even approach. PatronDude doesn't run game at tournaments, said something
about maybe having a g/f, but I dunno. Also notice I do better at tournaments when I
separate fromthe "chess posse." Got a good LJ BF going with the HBBartender at the
hotel bar but it got busy before I could escalate, then my round began. Still no reason to
hit up the bars and clubs. Don't do as well and it costs too much. Been cutting costs so I
can spend my time training.

Ray


235


Class drop.


Class drop. Every PUA has this option. She did inspire me to fight on with my king
on the fourth rank in the finale, in which I won the class prize. In the course of getting my heart
smashed at McCools, and then The Battle of Kate, I acquired more skillz than a man would
ever need to lay empty-netters like this. Objectively speaking, she was not a bad conquest at all,
just below standard.

With class drops, whatever it was that made you appealing to the superior target, will
overpower the inferior one, thus leading her to just hoping youll make a move. It seems to be a
combination of knowledge, technique, and confidence. A lot has to do with weaker rivals, since
you wont be up against many LimoDudes, FunDudes, or those who aim high. She will be more
desperate for attention, particularly the kind pharmaceutical-grade women take for granted.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7652-Field-Report-Eleven-
Being-Winning-And-Fucking-The-Prize-(Full-Text)


236
Field Report Twelve:
Happy Twenty-First Birthday, Kate

My final winning chance:

DATE: Spring 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Sent Birthday Card To SHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: What's On Your Mind, by Information Society
IN THE NEWS: Hart Reentry Bid Fizzling

WHY did I do this? Is there like an AFC GENE that returns like a CANCER?

Keep telling myself I'mover SHBFashion, but that's the problem: I'M THINKING
ABOUT HER enough to have to tell myself not to, which means I still love her, want
her, or whatever. The real problemis simple: I HAVEN'T FOUND ANYONE
BETTER. Not even on a campus with 20,000+chicks, and more SHBs than I can count.
I see them the second I go outside for a mile or more through the campus, particularly
Locust Walk on the other side of the 38th street bridge. This place is LOADED with the
daughters of rich men with SHBs for wives, so the looks are passed on. Even THEY
don't measure up to SHBFashion!

So to get her out of my mind I send this really mushy AFC birthday card, thanking her
"for being a true friend when I needed one the most" and ending it with "You're a gem."
How fucking LAME is that! I passed up SHBLapdance for THIS, maybe I AM fucking
crazy!

Hey guys: next time you want to DUMP a chick, walk up to her, and whisper in her ear:
"You're a GEM." Say it like you fucking LOVE her and she'll be gone by the time her
replacement is at your door even if she starts running when she's in the lobby.

Why the FUCK didn't I just lay her in my dormroomthat night? That shit's gonna haunt
me forever, but I gotta move on.

She's got my addy now if she wants to write back. Like hell she will. Good thing I
stopped looking for love and just worry about sex now. Don't even TALK to anything
less than an SHB now, well usually. I'mthe most shallow motherfucker on earth.

Being a hundred miles away fromher definitely helps.

Ray



237

Exhaust. All. Winning. Chances.


One of the smartest moves Ive ever made, but I felt stupid at the time, due to the
sheer futility of it all. I was wrong: this had to be done. If I wasnt going to wind up with Kate,
it was not going to be because she didnt know where to find me, and it wasnt going to be
because she thought I had lost interest.

Report-Twelve-Happy-Twenty-First-Birthday-Kate-(Full-Text)


238
Field Report Thirteen:
More Foolish Supplication

When I say never let theory get in the way of a lay, mean this:

DATE: March 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: HBThriftway Says Thanks
NOW PLAYING: Wishing Well, by Terence "Trent" D'Arby
IN THE NEWS: Hart Ponders Reentry Into Race; Pundits Laugh
TARGET CARD: Queen of Hearts

Listen up, guys! If I had listened to you I'd have missed a really cool party thrown by
the really cool HBThriftway (8.3), twenty-one, high-GPA, political science major,
wealthy family, here to find a husband I think.

She's with a friend (HB8.2) leaving the Thriftway at 43rd and Walnut, and they're
struggling with one too many bags for their cart. The rain starts coming down, and I
walk up on a pair of hotties-in-distress. I organize their bags, take the extra one, and
begin walking with them. They invite me to a party the next night. Lots of free beer,
target-rich party, had a lot of fun. Didn't try to #close anyone. Almost felt like a student
LOL, but without the $20,000.00+in tuition. Nice house too, they're redoing the block
as "beige block" to sell students on moving west of campus, and jack up the rents. It's
already like $500.00 for a 1br, about $100.00 more than when I moved here. Almost got
a roomon this block for $350.00 with a half-dozen SHBs but the landlord doesn't rent to
guys on any of his properties. Still weak at parties, due to the noise and crowds, but I'm
trying to get better. Being invited as a thank-you for an "AFC" favor didn't hurt. Ray


My L-I game was fine on the street, but not at parties. The application of my strengths
flushed out a remaining, and very severe, weakness, one which persists to this day. Im not an
L-I kind of guy, and never will be. What little strength I have in this area, I have had to
work very hard to achieve, as the Central Park posse, and Im sure Kate, would attest. Looks
carried my youth, but not as far as they should have. I could have gotten laid three times at this
party if I had known what I was doing.


L-I game is difficult, unless you make a specialty out of it. More notable are the
strong PUA economics of not paying tuition, but partying like an Ivy-League student, or what I
call parasitic game, another PUA favorite. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
Thirteen-More-Foolish-Supplication-(Full-Text)


239
Field Report Fourteen:
Found In Translation

This time, the "miracle" was that I managed to communicate my desires at all, and not
because I was shy:

DATE: March 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: HBJ apan Seduced Nonverbally
NOW PLAYING: Faith, by George Michael
IN THE NEWS: Hart Slaughtered In Primaries

The lone exception to my rule not to game chicks in my building is those who are about
to move, after they finish school here, like HBJ apan (8.7), a petite Tokyo native I still
haven't said more than a dozen words to (okay maybe a few more).

Knew her fromthe elevator for the last year, but never talked to her until a few days ago.
She barely speaks English, but I somehow got her to agree to go to dinner with me last
night. She leaves tomorrow with a smile on her face.

Most of it was eye contact, kino, body language, kino and pacing. I escalated slowly at
dinner, ramped up the kino on the way back, kissed her as soon as the elevator closed on
the way up, and she led me out to her apartment one floor below mine. Spend the night,
fuck again in the morning, have breakfast, watch some television, then I go back home
to study chess. Love this campus, especially the international students.

Ray


The body-language bootcamp was a success! As usual, once they went live, it was
time to move. Such is life in a campus fishbowl.


Ill credit SHBLunch and HBHalloween for the skillz involved in pulling this off.
The VCABM strikes yet again. This also scores as a class drop.

Report-Fourteen-Found-In-Translation-(Full-Text)


240
Field Report Fifteen:
I Swear, I Left Him On The Rooftop

And now for the target who inspired phrase mo' skillz/mo' problems:

DATE: May 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Whither My Friend's Girlfriend?
NOW PLAYING: Never Gonna Give You Up, by Rick Astley
IN THE NEWS: Dukakis, Bush Prepare For Fall Contest

Met the most AMAZING chick! Unfortunately, she's a neighbor's (ActorDude's)
girlfriend. Met her through the neighbor when they came by to use the phone to call
SHBDancer (9.8) a cab. I was studying chess at the time, and SHBDancer lit up the way
SHBFashion did, so I knew what to do. She starts asking me a shitload of questions
about chess, and I give Emo answers, mostly about what it's like to be a chessplayer,
rather than boring her with theory. I also stopped studying to talk to her, showing I have
my priorities in order. She's openly flirting with me, but ActorDude doesn't give a shit.
They don't seemexclusive. He's fucked up, parties all the time, but gets laid because he
doesn't give a shit and spends all his time with chick shit like PUACousin.

Last night/this morning, things got weird. Woke up around midnight to train chess, went
downstairs for a snack, and ran into them. They were partying and fucking all day, but
still going strong. ActorDude invites me in and the three of us hang out for a bit, until
he spaces out and then passes out, leaving me alone with SHBDancer. Within minutes
we are deep in Level II, and it's pretty obvious we'd be fucking if ActorDude weren't in
the room. She seemed to be waiting for himto wake up, but I could probably have
isolated her to my place and fucked her there, even with Momin the next room. Too
bad I don't have my sublet. Haven't seen anyone this hot in a long time, and with no
bitch shield. She tries to act normal but she's got to know how hot she is. She did talk
about how modern dance is just "sex" and was like a mix of SHBStore's sexuality, and
SHBFashion's subtlety. Definitely one of the sexiest targets I've ever gamed.

ActorDude finally woke up enough to get the bright idea to go up to the roof and hang
out. So we head up there and he starts spacing out again, this time dancing on the ledge,
nine floors up. One fucking misstep and I'malone on the roof with his girlfriend, and
his corpse below. Yeah like I could have explained that one! Fortunately he kept his
balance, rejoined us, and sobered up. We watched the sunrise, then headed back to his
apartment. She's on her way to Tisch (NYU's dance school), and wants a career in
dance. She loved that I was so into chess, and that I was fromManhattan. She asked me
about the NYU area and I told her I train a lot there in the good weather, when I can get
up to the city, and that I play in tournaments at the Manhattan and Marshall, with the
Marshall only a few blocks away.



241
I'mon the way into center city in the morning, for a "nightshift" party through a local
radio station, in the lobby of the Warwick Hotel, a few blocks fromSHBDancer's home.
She accepts, then joins me at the function for a bit, before walking home. Not much
opportunity for escalation, and we were too exhausted, with nowhere to fuck even if we
wanted to. Could have kissed or made out with her by walking her home maybe, but
then I'd have to deal with ActorDude, whose got one more year of high school left
(SHBDancer just graduated fromhis school). If she's gonna be living in the west
Village, the time to catch up with her is down the road. Her number is listed so I called
it when I got back "to see if she got home safely," and got a message saying the number
had been disconnected, but she left a forwarding address, an NYU dormfifty feet from
the chess tables in Washington Square Park!

Plan is simple: recruit TheoryDude and PatronDude for a day tip up to NYC to play in
the park, leave a note in the lobby for SHBDancer (who doesn't know I know where she
lives) like I saw her fromthe tables, and inviting her to stop by, then game the shit out of
her if she grabs the bait. Okay not much of a plan, but it's a plan. I have other options,
but she's by far the hottest, and maybe the most into me. Don't see her staying with
ActorDude too long, and I'mpatient, like a good chessplayer.

Ray


Meet the Third Ace. A Tischie! Also the reason I now laugh at bros before hoes.


When shit like this starts happening, youll know you have game.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7660-Bettor-Off-Single-Filed-
Report-Fifteen-I-Swear-I-Left-Him-On-The-Rooftop(Full-Text)


242
Field Report Sixteen:
My First Chess Groupie

My aspiring-chess-champion persona was suddenly on fire:

DATE: May 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: I Have A Chess Groupie!
NOW PLAYING: What's On Your Mind, by Information Society.
IN THE NEWS: Deficit Expected To Hit Record $253 Billion
TARGET CARD: Queen of Clubs

Wow, this one was subtle!

Roll into the Manhattan around 5:30 p.m. for a 6:00 p.m. tournament with the chess
posse (also caught up briefly with HBFriendSis during a pitstop but she's fifteen so I was
like hi/how-are-you/cya as usual). For now, the focus is NHBGroupie (7.3), a cute,
petite redhead who gets a little hotter the longer you look. Behaves like SHBStore
without the body to back it up, but she's nice.

She sees the three of us, decides I'mthe "alpha" player of the group, even though our
ratings are all equal. I train the most and that was obvious, so her attention fixates on
me. She clears the table of the posse by saying she needs opening help, so I do the
gentlemanly thing and school her on the French Defense, a very easy-to-learn defense. I
teach the four basic rules of chess openings,
14
then say fuck it to the tournament, and
take her out for some pizza. We talk for like two hours while the chess posse is playing
its games, then return to the club. No kino, but that was my doing. After bigger game
for now.

We keep talking and she says she wants to come visit me in Philadelphia! This girl is
not shy emotionally, but she's a little reserved physically. Compliments me on my
lifestyle and dedication to chess. She goes back home, while I wait for TheoryDude and
PatronDude to finish their meaningless games. On the way back, they're telling me she
wants to fuck me, and I say I'mnot sure. Guess I'll find out when she pops down to
visit.

Ray


This was a huge class drop, into empty-netter territory, yet still a classy, sexy woman
I could display proudly, anywhere. That I didnt just attack her must have caught her off-guard,
but I had been aiming high for way too long. I did make sure to establish L-II isolation, and

14
In order: 1) Develop your pieces; 2) Control the center; 3) Get the king to safety; 4) Carve out space.


243
#close her, knowing I could move in for the kill on whim, as I say about horses who appear
invincible. Best of all, I had met this target at a chess club, early on a Saturday evening, with
immediate L-II isolation.


Without much field practice, or much of anything other than my alpha gimmick, and
with no L-III game to speak of, my results just kept improving, with almost every milestone
somehow attributable to Kate, and the OTL. The class drop was profound.

Report-Sixteen-My-First-Chess-Groupie-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Seventeen:
One Super-Elite To Go, With A Side Of Cole Slaw

Ah, to be young, good-looking, and with your shit together:

DATE: J une 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Side Order Of Flirting w/SHBTakeout
NOW PLAYING: Every Little Step, by Bobby Brown
IN THE NEWS: Bush, Dukakis Even In Latest Polls

ARRGH! Met another "future target" tonight: SHBTakeout (9.99) is incredibly hot, but
only fifteen, so I had to keep it light. She works the counter at the takeout joint across
the street, where I go to get this really cool chicken salad platter they make: big scoop of
chicken salad in the center, sides of cole slaw and potato salad, a sliced, hard-boiled egg,
with a side of thousand-island (Russian dressing w/egg yolk for those who give a shit).

I go to pick up my order, but they're backed up. We wind up talking for like twenty
minutes, and I comment that I'mnot sure if the platter is such a good idea. She
emphatically says "you're not fat," and I've learned to trust the targets on stuff like this.
If I were overweight (I'm6'2" and 205#), she'd have just said something polite. It was
obvious she liked me just the way I was, and if she does, then I don't have any problems,
even if I'mabout twenty pounds over my ideal weight. I don't look bad, but I want every
edge I can get.

She's like a fishbowl (chicken pen?) target, so we'll be chatting a bit, definitely
infrequently until she's legal (sixteen in Pennsylvania). She already looks eighteen, and
could get a guy in trouble really easily. I'mglad she was honest with me about her age.
She's wicked. Very tough to talk to her for very long without getting attracted. Did my
best to keep it light. Got older SHBs on the fire already so I can wait this one out, and
intend to. Ray


Chicken salad and chess are underrated! After allowing her to pass the legal age, I
would implement direct game, by praying directly to God.


She was THAT hot, and, for the time being, the type of moral hazard of which I
wanted no part. Discuss this chapter on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7664-Field-Report-Seventeen-One-
Super-Elite-To-Go-With-A-Side-Of-Cole-Slaw-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Eighteen:
Chicks Dig Chick Flicks!

One of the few situations where the VCABM actually let me down:

DATE: J une 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Date w/NHBGroupie
NOW PLAYING: It Takes Two, by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock
IN THE NEWS: First Subway Series Since 1956 A Threat

NHBGroupie came down for a chess lesson, a movie, and some good conversation. Put
her up in the guest room, so nothing happened, except I scored another sublet, this time
her Brooklyn apartment (Midwood, Brooklyn), a bit of a commute to Manhattan, but it
puts me back in the city, and near the best chessplayers in America, which will help my
training a lot, and give me proximity to (and full plausibility with) SHBDancer! It's
"plausible" because I really amthat into chess, something chicks like a lot more than I
ever thought.

Got some minor kino going in the theater (she rested her head on me at one point), but
once she started talking about the sublet ($360.00 for a rent-controlled one-bedroom, and
she's moving in September, which means I can take over the lease!). I'mdefinitely
attracted, but more to the apartment than to her, so I didn't make a move. Can't wait for
August. Gonna temp for a month, play as much chess as I can, and see if I can get laid
in between. Should be a lot of fun. Ray


Wrong film: Crocodile Dundee II gets me laid), but risk-free game had to be run, lest
I fuck up the sublet, and my chances with SHBDancer. With Le Club and SHBTakeout in
abeyance, Le Groupie was not a top priority, especially with a rent-controlled sublet at stake.


While marveling at my ability to engineer a certain lay, yet not bothering to convert it,
the sublet had to be preserved. Its a Manhattan (or proximity thereto) thing. The birthday card
to Kate had paid off, just by clearing her from my radar, lest I wind up fixated on the FIT area
I knew she would be inhabiting.

Report-Eighteen-Chicks-Dig-Chick-Flicks!-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Nineteen:
Kasparov Shit

You cant handle my game!
Vince, The Color of Money

At this point in time, few could. You wont find moves like this in the standardized
texts, except maybe this one:

DATE: J une 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Left A Note For SHBDancer
NOW PLAYING: Sign Your Name, by Terence "Trent" D'Arby
IN THE NEWS: Market Continues Recovery FromCrash

As planned, hit up Washington Square Park with the chess posse around noon. Dropped
the note in SHBDancer's box at her NYU dorm, also as planned. The note read:

Why don't you throw a stone over to the chess tables and come pick it up. I
might be playing there.

I was hoping she'd find the note while I was there, and come over, but no such luck. Oh
well, at least she knows I'minterested and where to find me. Only problemis I'mstuck
here until August, but I'll catch up with her when I get to Brooklyn.

Another nothing-to-lose scenario with an SHB. No guts, no glory. Better to go down
swinging than to be caught looking and all that. Hope this one pans out.

Ray


This won her heart, an accomplishment with an Ace of Hearts. Distance, ActorDude,
and ridiculously bad timing were all that kept us apart. I treated her as an inevitable lay, and she
never gave me reason not to. Our connection was natural, based on us being artists trying to
make it in Manhattan, while retaining our Philadelphia roots. Living with Mom was irrelevant,
since I was biding my time while finding my way back home. This Kasparov shit allowed me
to set the table for my move, or maybe get things going early, with ActorDude out of the picture
until the fall. It was perfect strategy, perfectly executed, but logistics were a nightmare.



247

For anything not a pharmaceutical-grade target, this game is over. With a super-
elite, it means Im merely in the running, for one of the sexiest women this planet has ever seen.
This is why the birthday card had to be sent to Kate; that distraction would have proven fatal.
Strong credit also goes to PG-4, for giving me the patience to let The Game come to me, by
keeping me occupied, when I might otherwise have been motivated towards premature
escalation.

Report-Nineteen-Kasparov-Shit-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Nineteen:
Target Management

So many super-elites, so little time

The Target Matrix

Your target matrix will aid in target-management, but you might want to just
memorize it, to avoid leaving a digital trail. In the spring of 1988, mine looked like this:

Rank Target Status Comments

Super-elite SHBDancer EL-II Live!
NHB NHBGroupie EL-II Sure-thing.
HB HBFriendSis EL-II Too young.
Super-elite SHBTakeout EL-II Too young.
HB HBJapan L-III Resolved.
NHBQuakertown NHB L-III Resolved.
PG-4 NHB EL-II Phantom girlfriend.

Just about anything can be put on the matrix, such as an analysis of where you met:

Card-Type Target Status Met

Ace of Hearts SHBSchool EL-II School steps.
Ace of Spades SHBBreakfast EL-II Coffee shop (breakfast).
Queen of Spades HBCentralPark EL-II Homeroom (microscope)
Ten of Clubs NHBSkates L-III Skates.
Ace of Hearts SHBLunch MLTR Elevator leaving school.
Ten of Clubs NHBMall EL-II Mutual friend (InternDude).
Ace of Hearts SHBHippie L-III School/Central Park.
Ace of Diamonds SHBStore/OTL EL-II Store.
Ace of Hearts SHBJulliard EL-II School.
Ace of Diamonds SHBPolitics L-III Hotel bar (campaign)
Ace of Spades SHBLapdance L-III School (dorm).
Ace of Spades SHBFashion/Kate EL-II School (bar).
Ace of Spades NHBHypnoMassage EL-II Chess training (massage).
Ace of Hearts SHBTwentySix L-III Chess tournament (hotel).
Ace of Clubs Le Club EL-II Chess tournament.
Ace of Hearts SHBJ offrey EL-II Chess tournament (Amtrak).
Ten of Clubs NHBQuakertown L-III Chess tournament.
Queen of Spades HBJapan L-III Elevator.
Ace of Hearts SHBDancer EL-II Chess training (coffeehouse).
Ace of Spades SHBTakeout EL-II Retail (takeout).
Ten of Clubs NHBGroupie EL-II Chess tournament.

Only SHBPolitics and Kate were met in traditional L-I venues, thus making for
notable exceptions. I would imagine the reader who selects music as his alpha-gimmick would


249
have a matrix tilted towards live targets and groupies from that lifestyle, whereas an extreme-
sports aficionado would do well with his alpha gimmick. More advanced L-III gimmicks, like
yoga, hypnosis, or massage, would lead to live targets met through ones work, or through those
with an interest in that work. Some L-II gimmicks, like astrology, tarot, and anything psychic,
can be even more effective than their L-III counterparts, as they slip under the radar, and can be
used to form an instant EL-II. L-III gimmicks deployed in L-II offer the best of both worlds, but
require a great deal of finesse.

My extensive, and very inexpensive use of day game improved my target-selection
skillz, because those who didnt meet my personality or intelligence requirements were
quickly disqualified, with the same plausible-deniability used to reject men in L-I venues. Most
darkside tactics, like negs, freezeouts, backturns, or even AMOGing, were absent, since only
the live targets would crash the normal social barrier of regular environments, like elevators,
by opening me, thus preempting the need for combat. This approach requires a great deal of
patience, but my experience clearly shows that, over time, this method of target-accumulation
yields a more robust, higher-quality target-roster, and requires much less of an emotional,
financial.

Lesson-Nineteen-Target-Management-(Full-Text-and-Attachment)


250
Lesson Twenty:
The Summer Of Twenty-One

Emo game costs very little to run. Younger men have the advantage of getting the
benefit of the doubt, even from pharmaceutical-grade women, who, unless they are true
Diamonds, tire quickly of LimoDude, instead giving preference to Kate-positive, unique men,
who have what they cant find elsewhere, which is why SHBDancer wanted to fuck me, if only
we would ever wind up in the same city! In August, 1988, everything just fell into place, in a
way it rarely will for an AFC, due to lack of ferality. One groupie, one sublet, an alpha
gimmick, and a strong labor market all converged to produce a really nice month in Brooklyn,
most of which was spent working and playing in Manhattan, or training at my new residence. I
wasnt LimoDude, but could finally say, proudly, that he wasnt me!

I had been working my way back to Manhattan all spring, having temped for a week
on two separate occasions, crashing with Boards, PhysicsDude, HippieCousin, WaiterDude, and
CEOCousin, at one time or another, with the latter impressed by my chessplaying, due to his
children having hit the prep-school circuit, where chess scholarships were awarded, and the
prodigies were minor celebrities. Most would quit chess by college, but free tuition at a top
prep academy is nothing to sneeze at. One such prodigy was kind enough to swipe the $1,200.00
first prize at the 1987 National Chess Congress, thus reminding me I had my work cut out for
me, one of the reasons I began expanding my tournament horizons.

Thanks to the birthday-card, Kate was one target I would not be gaming, since all
winning chances had been exhausted. She had become an abstraction, a focal point of my alpha
gimmick, the one I would game by becoming a famous champion, but most likely move on
from, to my groupies, like SHBDancer, if my attempt failed. Kates Chess gift had already
landed me several live Aces, while the OTL and SHBLunch had schooled me thoroughly on
dating and the EL-II. I was already registered with several temp agencies, so finding work was
not going to be an issue. Pay rates varied from $16.00-18.00 an hour, with my rent covered by
TURD-money from the spring, which would enable me to spend my first week back in
Washington Square Park, which I did, until that got boring. I would spend the entire month
playing in as many tournaments as the Manhattan had to offer. June, 1988 would be spent
training for the World Open (preliminaries, not the main event), and July, 1988 would be spent
training and preparing to move, with some temp gigs thrown in to pay the bills. It was a very
productive summer.

Between the world-class chess training, high salary, especially for a college dropout,
low rent, and upper-east-side roots, for one month, it was almost as if I were privileged again,
doing what I might have done, even if I hadnt lost the luxury apartment (nah). What was nice
was that I had made it back to New York City, all on my own, with something I never had as a
child: a reason to be there. I was a part of the citys culture, however degenerate-rich my niche.
Chessplayers are an interesting lot, which makes their financial instability easy to overlook,
since we know all the time they spend training leaves little opportunity for a regular career. I


251
had done pretty well for a daytime gig, and was known as The Chessplayer to my agencies.
That I typed 80 wpm, and knew the current software, and had grooming skillz didnt hurt.

In 1988, the Manhattan Chess Club was the practice ground for most NYC-based
GMs, thanks to the free-membership perk. The Four Rated Games Tonight tournament gave
me one or two games against 2300+players, and the occasional GM, with a shot at a $50.00
class prize, all from a $20.00 entry fee, and something to do for five or six hours on a Thursday
evening. It was also a good way for me to ignore the L-III weaknesses that were subtly
destroying my game, even as I had begun developing my L-III gimmicks. My ability to
checkmate my targets was lacking, and, without my realizing it, costing me SHBDancer,
because I only knew one or two paths to L-III, and didnt engineer additional ones, similar to
what would have happened if I hadnt thought of the keg-party. Many AFCs complain that
nothing happens with a target, yet thats just a sign they dont know how to make anything
happen.

What made The Summer of Twenty-One stand out was that, for the first time in my
life, I had every base covered: good job, own apartment, proximity to Manhattan, alpha
gimmick, and Emo game. At the time, this did not inspire my confidence, because I was
comparing my Emo game to PUACousins, and my lifestyle game to LimoDudes, while
ignoring the balance between the two that was making me stronger than the sum of my
components. Many men were earning more than the $18.00 an hour I would wind up pulling as
a temp, and many more were as interesting as me, but the combination of an interesting
chessplayer, and high-earning, Wall Street office grunt, added up to a pretty decent DHV, since I
was successful enough not to be blown out by the high-achievers, and interesting enough to
remain in contention against the starving artists. The danger, of course, is that I would have a
decent career, and a decent chessgame, without rising to alpha status in either. At twenty-one,
however, my potential would be given every benefit of the doubt.

Ferality And The Summer Of Twenty-One

Without a regular job, or an LTR or marriage, I was free to move to Brooklyn on a
whim. I had cultivated live targets in each city, with an emphasis on Manhattan, my intended
new home. Chess was my way of making seduction my top priority, however indirectly, and this
is why I was getting results: I was actually trying, while most of my peers were living on auto-
pilot, not developing any alpha gimmicks, keeping regular hours, regular friends, and pursuing
regular hobbies and interests, while I was busy on Amtrak, or SEPTA/NJTransit, temping at new
places every week, and encountering many Aces in the course of my normal life, with chess and
horseplaying, rather than work and relationships, as the constant. I had even managed to find
stable employment in Manhattan, something I couldnt do in 1986. Life was good.

Lesson-Twenty-The-Summer-Of-Twenty-One-(Full-Text)


252
Field Report Twenty:
Dancing On The Chesstable

This super-elite may have been the exception to the titular rule that pharmaceutical-
grade women only get wild for the jerks:

DATE: J une 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Bad Timing w/SHBDancer!!
NOW PLAYING: Nightmare On My Street, by DJ Jazzy J eff and the Fresh Prince
IN THE NEWS: Dems Call J ackson Support Critical To Victory In Fall

UGGH! I checkmated myself!

SHBDancer finally calls me this afternoon (Friday), as sweet as can be, flirtatious even
for her, and more glad to see me than any target ever has been. I swear she can brighten
a guy's day just with a phone call. Usually. This one drove me up the wall. I think
that's four shots at the basket now, and my fourth miss.

She's in Philadelphia for the weekend, but that's only two days, and we cannot do much
(other than fuck DUH). Didn't invite me out, and I didn't think to invite her, because I
was still getting over the shock of her calling me. She's still with ActorDude, so I have
to be careful, but I was planning to see her in August, not now! So what's the first thing
she says to me?

SHBDancer: "I was looking for you every day at the chess tables!"

Thanks for sharing, bitch!

Why does every FUCKING SHB make sex so FUCKING difficult? Does this happen to
J FK Jr.? Hell fucking NO! Does she really think I'mgonna reject her after leaving her a
note to come by. I tell her I wasn't in town the last two weeks, and that's why she didn't
find me, but it was an ego boost to know she was looking. No doubt she figured if I
wanted her I could come and get her, but we're talking a two-hour trip each way, $50.00
in expenses, and who knows if it'll lead anywhere. I'd also lose a day of training but I
could pick that back up in the park. Not the same as burying myself in Queen And
Pawn Endings at home. I feel like a serious player with my books, and like a slacker in
the park.

I figured we'd catch up in August, but no such luck. She'll be in Philadelphia, while I'll
be in Manhattan. Already paid for the sublet, and definitely want the lease. Will just
have to take my chances that she's still around when September comes. If I can stay up
there it'll be easy. Until then, we'll spend maybe three days in the same city, and I'm
about to piss away two of themout of "loyalty" to ActorDude.


253

Bros before hoes right?

RIGHT!!!

Ray


Lack of L-III game was to blame here. With any hint of it, I keep to task, find a way
to establish proximity, and score the hall-of-fame lay, which I still expected to materialize, a
rather sick level of confidence which can prove costly, yet which is also a DHV, precisely
because so few men have it.


To men who think all super-elites are stuck-up, golddigging social-climbers with
bitch-shields, who must be gamed into treating a man right, I offer SHBDancer. My only
mistake was not realizing that converting this sure thing should have trumped all other priorities.
Social brainwashing is largely responsible for men convincing themselves that something else
should somehow take priority over sex with a pharmaceutical-grade woman.

Report-Twenty-Dancing-On-The-Chesstable-(Full-Text)


254
Field Report Twenty-One:
How To Tell If She Wants To Have Your Baby

She was THAT obvious. I didnt mind one bit:

DATE: J uly 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Dinner Date w/NHBGroupie
NOW PLAYING: Monkey, by George Michael
IN THE NEWS: Bush Vows Not To Die In Office

Chess groupies are SO COOL! They're like rock groupies only they're into
chessplayers! She doesn't even like chess really, just likes men who play at the high
levels. I get to NHBGroupie's apartment around 7:30, and we go out for dinner to this
place run by Orthodox J ews. Nice food, really clean place, and we sat for like an hour,
just talking. NHBGroupie has that Nancy Reagan "adoring gaze" I used to mock, but
she is SO into me, yet she won't make a move. Don't know if I will, but she's doable.
Would rather have her as a girlfriend. She talked about wanting KIDS that play chess,
and the lightbulb went off. WTF amI Northern Dancer now?

Don't want to make a move my first night there, since it could cost me the apartment.
Maybe when she gets back or if she stops in to visit. Said she might call but she'll be
god-knows-where with "her guy.' She doesn't even bother talking himup to me because
she knows I'd just laugh. Feels good to be back in the city on my own, with an
affordable place to live! Some people in Manhattan pay more for two nights in a hotel
than I'mpaying for the entire month! Got some friends to catch up with, and a job to
get, plus some tournaments to play in. Think I'll hit up the park first, and let the
employment offers roll in. Should be a great month. Ray


Just offering to have my baby would have been easier. She was completely spellbound. An
AFC might overlook this, because hes conditioned to think of friendship, but a PUAs L-III
orientation will cause him to notice it, which I did, mostly because she was a chess groupie.


She was even easier than I had realized at the time. Mine for the taking. Such a feeling of
power. If only Id wanted a Ten of Clubs, or been willing to settle for an NHB. I owned her.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7674-Filed-Report-Twenty-
One-How-To-Tell-If-She-Wants-To-Have-Your-Baby-(Full-Text)


255
Field Report Twenty-Two:
The Phantom Pivot

Sex-addiction can be inspiring:

DATE: August 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR+: Same-Day Lay w/SHBBartender
NOW PLAYING: Naughty Girls (Need Love Too), by Samantha Fox
IN THE NEWS: Mets, Pirates Battle For NL East

I'mlearning! Strike while the iron is HOT! This one was hotter than an iron!
SHBBartender (9.8) looked like something right out of a Playboy, but with
(intentionally) ripped jeans, a nice, form-fitting shirt-like top, and sneakers. Blonde hair
appeared dyed or maybe highlighted. She had perfect, slightly tanned skin, just super-
hot all the way around.

Roll into her bar with Boards, some randomupper east side place near 87th and Second
for the tail end of happy hour. Boards gets settled and I order an Iced Tea (Long Island)
fromSHBBartender, who seems to be TRIPPING on something. Got that really spaced-
out look like it's all she can do to make the drinks. She's like the definition of the term
luscious blonde, but in an earthy way, not glammed up, and not with dyed hair or any of
that other bullshit. J ust an incredible natural-looking beauty (I'm sure she works on it
but you can't see the work).

It's a festive mood, a Friday happy-hour, so my confidence is booming. I open by asking
the bartender if she's glad the weekend is here and she says yeah but she's gotta work
tomorrow night. I say that's big tips probably and she agrees. She asks about me and I
tell her I just moved back to the city after a few years on the UPenn campus (no lie), but
I was a little bummed because I had to split up with my phantom ex-girlfriend, who had
just moved to Detroit, after getting her MBA at Wharton. Since I'mworking on Wall
Street (15 mins on the #4-5 trains to 86th fromwork), I'mdressed sharp, and just cashed
a fat paycheck. I learn her shift ended fifteen minutes before I got there, and her relief is
late, so she's stuck. I got into this total bullshit about how LDRs don't work, and even
though I loved her, I just had to let her go. She opens up like the GRAND FUCKING
CANYON, telling me about how she left her hometown boyfriend behind when she
came here to make it as a model. I told her she looked too good not to make it and she
smiled. Boards checked in fromtime to time to be polite but he's married to
NHBSpanish (6.8), a really cool Spanish chick, but he could have gotten an SHB with
no problem. It's like he gave up on the looks thing and wants a relationship; not me.

I get an idea so I tell Boards I'mheading out. He joins me, and we walk towards the #4
stop at 86th. I tell himI'mgoing to stop at the Papaya King at 86th and Third for some
hotdogs, and then the OTB before they close at 7:00, to play the harness races. He says


256
his wife is gonna nuke dinner so he passes on the hotdogs, and keeps walking to the
subway (he takes the #4 to 59th, I take it to Fulton then the D or the J ). Soon as he
leaves, I head BACK to the bar. SHBBartender is STILL there, beginning to look
pissed. I roll back in and she smiles:

HER: "Where's your friend?"

ME: "On his way to becoming part of the #4 train."

HER: "So he lives downtown?"

ME: "You haven't lived in New York too long! I was making a joke."

<dumb pause until she gets it>

HER: "Very funny!"

ME: "Hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do. Are they EVER gonna let
you go home?"

HER: "Not unless I quit, which I might. Tried that once and got called back
in."

ME: "Let me know if you need me to kidnap you."

HER: "That may not be necessary. Hold on a sec."

<she disappears to the back, then returns>

HER: "Okay, I can go as soon as the owner comes out. Told himI'mleaving
even if he fires me. What's he gonna do, work all my shifts?"

ME: "Damn right. You like hotdogs?"

HER: "Sometimes. The ones in the carts are good."

ME: "You've never been to Papaya King on 86th and Third? Best hotdog
stand in Manhattan. Not Gray's Papaya, the real thing. They say their
dogs are 'better than filet mignon.'"

HER: "Sure why not. Give me two minutes here and meet me outside."

ME: "No problem."

So we meet outside, and I take her armlightly, to guide her through the heavy pedestrian
traffic, especially on 86th. She's fromKansas, a transplant, been in town less than three
months, and busy getting settled. Kino escalates a bit but breaks when we get to Papaya


257
King. I have two with onions, she orders one, I order her a second, saying I'll finish it if
she can't. She gives me a smile, then asks for my help hehe. we do that thing like with
the pasta where we start at each end of the hotdog, but our mouths get full so we throw
out about half of it and finish it, then a light makeout ensues. NO resistance whatsoever:
she's already decided to fuck me so it's up to me to close this.

She lives in Astoria (Queens), but is saving up to move into Manhattan, so she hasn't
gone out much. I ask her if she's ever been to Greenwich Village and she says once. We
make out intermittently as I walk her towards the subway and tell her to wait a second,
then HAIL A CAB. I got kino and a makeout going, and no fucking way I'm losing this
on the subway. She hops in and asks where we're going, then I tell the driver
"Washington Square Park. Fifth Avenue entrance (7th)." Kino and makeout escalate in
the cab, and we're already on fire, so I swing for the fences:

ME: "You'll like the Village. Doesn't even wake up until around 8:00, so
we're early! Are you a night owl?"

HER: "Definitely! I hate working afternoons like today. Tips suck too."

ME: "Oh shit I just thought of something. You mind if I have the cab stop
outside my place so I can pick something up?"

HER: "Not at all."

ME: <to the cabdriver>"Ocean and J , please."

HER: "Where's Ocean and J ?"

ME: "Brooklyn."

I thought she was gonna fuck me in the cab, but we just kept making out. Cabfare was a
fucking FORTUNE (like $30.00 w/tip), but cheaper than an evening out. The next line
closed it:

HER: "So what'd you forget that was so important?"

ME: "Condoms."

I tell her to wait in the cab, but pay the fare. She hops out and reestablishes kino. We do
the lobby/'elevator makeout thing, then spill into NHBGroupie's apartment. Turns out
she was on X, and offered me some. Says it's great for fucking (no shit). I think it's still
legal but I'mnot sure. Something about changing the formula each time to get around
the law. Whatever, it's fucking AWESOME, and next thing I know it's like 4:00 a.m.
and we're spent. Fucked her four times I think. Second time I got it up like five minutes
after the first, then slowed down a bit, and we took a break to clean out my fridge.



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I offer to put her in a cab home (Friday pay here, unlike Philadelphia, so I'mflush), but
she says she can go back tomorrow. I offer to put her on the express bus to Manhattan
so she can avoid the subway and she says fine, she wanted to pop into the city anyway.
Bus stops near the RR so she can get home fromthere. Not too worried about her, she's
pretty street-smart for a transplant.

We trade numbers, then she leaves, with a goodbye makeout, lots of smiles, and no
discussion of any relationship. She likes to live in the present. No complaints here!
She's not hung up on her future so she really focused on the here and now last night.

Hope the future becomes the "present" a few more times before I leave.

Ray


PTSD (thats post-traumatic stupidity disorder) from The Battle of Kate led to
HBHalloween-style persistence. I was not blowing this lay. Once you have even kino, and
especially if youre getting a public makeout, you can escalate like this with good winning
chances, since you can be pretty sure your target wont mind isolation.


I have a theory that a certain level of failure causes hunger, which leads to abnormal
aggression, which leads to stumbling onto winning combinations like this, which unravel one
move at a time. This time, nothing was more important than fucking a super-elite, and I acted
accordingly. My recreational use of pharmaceutical-grade women was fulfilled. Due to lack
of L-III game, this would be the only target I would lay, and only the few times, but something is
better than nothing, especially with women-addiction.

Report-Twenty-Two-The-Phantom-Pivot-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Twenty-Three:
Letting (Chess) Theory Get In The Way Of A Lay

When I warn the reader to never let theory get in the way of the lay, this wasn't exactly
what I had in mind:

DATE: August 1988
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: NHBGroupie has an SHBCousin!
NOW PLAYING: Roll With It, by Steve Winwood
IN THE NEWS: Mets, Pirates Battle For NL East

I'meither an idiot, a genius, or both. Probably both. You can add "insane" after tonight.
Chess and an SHB collided: I chose chess. There was one complication but that could
have been converted into a threesome, and even more complications.

Month has been going great. Almost broke everything while cycling with CycleDude,
when I clipped his wheels, but I threw the bike down, threw my leg over it, and landed
on my feet. SECOND time I did that, thought the first was a fluke. Must be the skating.
No more cycling, EVER. Lose control and the bike is your enemy; skating is much
safer.

I'mdeep into a study marathon Sunday night, around 10:30 p.m., when I get a call from
NHBGroupie that she's coming by for a visit with her cousin. I figure she wants to get
something, even though it's technically MY apartment, so I tell her okay come over, I'll
be up. Usually go to bed around 1:30-2:00 a.m., get up around 7:00, then head into the
city for work. Like to go in early before the traffic, since it's twenty-five minutes by
express bus at 7:15, and an hour if I leave at 7:45 or 8:15. Gives me time for a nice
breakfast at an Irish bar that's actually open; they drink early on Wall Street!

Got HYPNOTIZED out of my change for a $10.00 by an HBCashier (8.2) who
distracted me with her necklace and then sent me on my way. Not gonna let that happen
again but I'mup like $50.00+in extra change fromidiots who give me extra. Now I feel
good about keeping it! I was pissed at the cashier but she was hot. Not watching my
cash, but don't have to: paycheck is $575.00 a week after taxes (annual income is lower
due to just starting, so lower withholding). Left a stub out where NHBGroupie would
find it when she got back.

So I'mminding my business, when I get the call that they're coming over. I then get
advised "don't worry; she's quality." NHBGroupie was trying to fix me up! Or scout for
info! Or both! This was WEIRD so I just kept studying. They arrive around 11:00
p.m., and I'min my gymshorts, a t-shirt, with chess books all over the dining room
table, and working on a rook ending. I put the book down to say hi, but it's awkward
after that, like why are they there? SHBGroupieCousin (9.7) was definitely quality, but


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I already got enough of that to deal with. Was hoping for another booty call from
SHBBartender (two more since the first lay, one Friday), but no such luck. They left a
few minutes later, I went back to my chess training, then to bed around 2:00. Yeah, I
fucked up.

Ray


The cashier's hypnotic technique was amazing, but I was also an "easy subject"
because I hadn't sensed the potential to be ambushed like that. She had a nice little con going
there. Unfortunately, Diamonds practice incomplete hypnosis, hoping to use the subjects
craving for the state to addict them, rather than using the state itself. Its a subtle, yet notable,
difference.

This odd practice of offering up RSHCs and super-elites, as NHBGroupie had done
here, was more than welcomed, but had the tendency to catch me off-guard. My ferality had me
suspicious of live targets I had done nothing to cultivate, even if looking a gift-SHB in the mouth
was pretty fucking stupid. Men are so conditioned by Big Medias repeated claims of how
clueless we are, that we often dont see what is directly in front of us, in our own lives. I had
SHBBartender, so this one was easy to pass, but I should have just converted the lay, since she
was exceptionally hot, and, apparently, extremely submissive. A man can always use a good sex
toy. My guess is SHBGroupieCousin had some bad relationships, and just decided to trust
NHBGroupies recommendation, which, this time, happened to be me.


The reader should not dismiss pharmaceutical-grade women like this. She was
incredibly hot, as in centerfold-of-the-year quality. Just beautiful sexy, and amazingly
nonresistant. I didnt even pick up the bat to swing at a gopher ball. Shame! To avoid missing
an opportunity like this, it is wise to presume it exists, even if you might be wrongfooted for
attempting conversion. Even at the time, I resented how, most of the time, Im supposed to
presume a lack of interest, but on the targets whim, Im supposed to do a 180 and appreciate
such a good thing (read: sure thing).

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7748-Field-Report-Twenty-
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Field Report Twenty-Four:
Fuck Like A Grandmaster (Not!)

My "big moment" with NHBGroupie finally arrived:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+++: NHBGroupie Rejection Drama
NOW PLAYING: Sweet Child Of Mine, by Guns N' Roses
IN THE NEWS: Mets On Verge Of Clinching After Sweeping Pirates

J ust when I thought it was over with NHBGroupie, it heats up. Guess she's done with
HikingDude, because she invites me back up for six days, rent of $100.00. I can get the
apartment for $500.00 a month (but not rent-controlled), and PhysicsDude offered to
lend the deposit to me. Got a job lined up at $17.00 an hour but I wanted $18.00. Had a
nice week, weather was shit, and it was raining. At the LAST minute, with my bags
literally packed, she stops me at the door, picking up an old argument:

HER: "You're right."
ME: "About what?"
HER: "A woman would leave her man if a better one came along."

I pause for like FOREVER, because she KNEW I wanted this out of her since we met,
so she waits for THIS. I have a call to make, and do my best to play "speed chess" and
find the right move.

ME: "Goodbye, NHBGroupie."

Like I do in chess, I trusted my instincts. . Ray


A lifesaving decision, and the correct one, much as I would love to have explored this
ego-boost. Sex wouldnt have been worth the long-term consequences of settling.


It was like NHBDorm, only I wanted to fuck her this time. Now it was just resolved,
like all before her.

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Field Report Twenty-Five:
Thirty Years Ahead Of Her Time

Had I become a pedigree expert in horse-racing twenty years earlier, and learned about
mitochondrial DNA, the correct soulmate-target would have been so much clearer:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Labor Day Chess Tournament
NOW PLAYING: Welcome To The Jungle, by Guns N' Roses
IN THE NEWS: Hopes For Subway Series DimAs Yanks Falter

Done with Manhattan for now, and back home. Spent the long weekend with the chess
posse at PatronDude's house. HBFriendSis turns sixteen next month, legal in
Pennsylvania (but not New York), and her mom's side of the family has a house right
near the Adam's Mark. Haven't seen them here yet but they've mentioned it a few times.
J ust what I need. TheoryDude even told me he wished PatronDude's "sister were a little
older." I reacted neutrally, not telegraphing my interest, and not responding that I was
wishing more than HBFriendMomwere a little younger, as I didn't feel like starting
WWIII.

Was sparring with TheoryDude around 2:00 a.m. Sunday night, when HBFriendSis pops
down for a chat. It's the three of us so it's harmless, but I know TheoryDude's gonna be
into her the same day I will. For now we just ignore that dynamic and get into a nice
chat about chess and life, and she whips out The Book Of Questions to probe our brains.
Don't know how insightful it is but she's clearly curious about us, more so about me,
since we talked until like 4:30 a.m. after TheoryDude went to bed. I said fuck it, kept
studying all night, played, then went back to sleep before going home, but I was still
wound up.

HBFriendMOM sees I'mhaving difficulty sleeping and next thing I know she's in super-
hypno mode, saying just empty your mind as her secret for going to sleep. Fifteen
minutes later I'mout, wake up feeling great, go home, sleep really well for a few days,
then the spell breaks and I'mback to my insomnia (getting to sleep not staying asleep).
Brain is so active it never shuts off. HBFriendMomis also into yoga, probably massage,
and she's obviously studied some hypnosis. She's like a hotter, older,
NHBHypnoMassage. Not gonna go there, and this whole thing is getting too creepy. I
never win anything at these tournaments and this is probably why; I'mtoo damn SOFT
after staying there. Been sparring a bit with PatronDude, who drives down for a sparring
session every now and then.

Did so horrible in the tournament I was getting TRASH TALKED by loser geeks!! A
few of them hit on HBFriendSis the one day she stopped by briefly to check us out with
HBFriendMom. Something weird about a family that treats you better than your own,


263
but it's a chess/patronage thing. I bring my game, they bring hospitality, everyone wins.
Now if only there weren't two out-of-reach HBs in the mix, I might actually win
something. Oh yeah, HBFriendMominvited me down to go swimming.

Ray


SNL hit the nail on the head:

GARTH: "But she's my MOM!"

WAYNE: "Sorry, Garth, she's a babe!"

Was she ever. She was also a sorceress, an attraction which transcends all social
boundaries, particularly with an Ace of Clubs sorceress, the ultimate in too-good-go-be-true: the
sexy good witch. Dare I say if I werent spellbound, shed have taken offense, even more than
PatronDude will likely be offended by learning I was. Fortunately for the reader, Id rather
offend her than him, so this one goes in the books, however creepy and perverted it may have
seemed, beneath the surface, to wonder about what MomOfClubs would have been like in one of
those private relaxation sessions defines the OTL in her middle age.


I would never go there, yet this definitely made things much more complicated.
With a Mulligan, Id have gone there in a heartbeat. There is a damn sexy place.

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Field Report Twenty-Six:
Refusal To Supplicate Pays Off

Rejection has never been so profitable:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Got Rejected, A Drink Date, And PAID!
NOW PLAYING: On Our Own, by Bobby Brown
IN THE NEWS: KAL 007 Downing Threatens Nuclear War

Guess I ambecoming a PUA! Figured I might get rejected by this target, who asked me
to SUPPLICATE, so I cut that bullshit off. SHBIran (9.5) needed some help moving
into my building, and offers to pay me, figuring I'll do the chivalry thing and do it for
free, but NO FUCKING DICE. We agree to a fee of $60.00 for my services for three
hours, and I EARNED every fucking cent!!

We get rapport going during the move, and after she offers to BUY ME A DRINK! We
head over to Walsh's and grab a table in the back, where I have a Long Island Iced Tea,
and she pays me. Then I learn about her boyfriend, EggheadDude, one of those
intellectual snobs who's a professor at UPenn, and middle-eastern. He's got her snowed
into thinking he's the shit, but I bet they don't last. She rejects me indirectly when I say I
wish I'd met her when we were five, like she KNEW what I meant. Oh well, still got the
cash.

I don't mind the occasional supplication, but hard labor? No fucking way. Get PAID
when they ask for real work!

Ray


She wouldn't have paid me a cent if I had offered to do this for free. I determined
insufficient winning chances, and went for the money instead. Wise!


Sixty bucks is sixty bucks, and we did go out for a drink, for which she paid. Hardly a
failure.

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Field Report Twenty-Seven:
Hoes Before Bros

Whoever said it the other way around, was gay:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: ActorDude CHEATING on SHB/Dancer!
NOW PLAYING: Kokomo, by The Beach Boys
IN THE NEWS: Mets, Dodgers prepare for NLCS

Hit up ActorDude's spot (he lives alone in high school) for a party Friday night, and
what do I see, but himMAKING OUT with another chick! Not my business to tell
SHBDancer, but she's fair game now.

Don't ever buy into that bros-before-hoes bullshit. I should have taken her on the roof,
or with a return visit to the chess tables.

Tried out for Wheel of Fortune. Passed the written exam(it's hard!), got to the game
simulation, then lost. Trip to LA would have been costly anyway.

Ray


Let this be a lesson to the reader: absent a ring, or a wedding, go for it, and never look
back, even if shes fucking your best friend. Pathetic loyalty to other men can, will, and
should be punished. Youd think if I wanted to marry this Third Ace, Id have picked up the
phone by now, but noooooo..


With a Mulligan, I wouldnt have fucked around, instead just remarking I guess
youre done with SHBDancer, to let him know Id be gaming her. The reader who cannot see
himself doing this in a similar situation is letting those invisible barriers impede him. I had
every right to inquire, just as I had every right to want her. Had I confirmed their being over, or
his cheating, it would have been much easier to proceed. Instead, I chose not to mention the
elephant in the room, but that did not make it disappear.

Report-Twenty-Seven-Hoes-Before-Bros-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Twenty-Eight:
Too Good For My Own Good

By Thanksgiving 1988, my lifestyle had become a little too Kate-positive:

DATE: 27 Nov 1988 17:27:46 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU+++: Worst Weekend EVER!!
NOW PLAYING: Bad Medicine, by Bon J ovi
IN THE NEWS: Bush Assembles Transition Team

The most PROMISING weekend of my life turned into the most FUCKED UP weekend
of my life!!

I take pride in having my priorities straight, dropping chess when opportunity arises, but
this was a difficult one. I begin the National Chess Congress with a 3-0 start for a SIX-
game tournament with a $2,000.00 prize!! Game four starts Saturday night. I call home
to let Momknow things are going well, and this is when things fall apart:

ME: "Hey! I'm3-0!"

MOM: "Great. All that training is paying off. Oh, by the way, SHBDancer
called and said she's coming by to pick up her paper."

SHBDancer had left a five-page essay with me on Thursday, and I was hoping she
would pick it up Sunday, after my tournament, or at worst I could just take a half-point
bye (pass round 4), but NOOOOOOOO, I have to be UNDEFEATED! For ANY other
record, I would have just taken the bye, but winning this tournament would help my
chess rep, net me two grand, and maybe help with the Samford Fellowship I'mchasing.
Haven't won a BIG prize yet in chess and this would have been great. This tournament
attracts mostly locals, due to the much bigger one in Vegas also this weekend.

What to do? I try to do BOTH. Oh, let me quote the paper:

Dancers are very much in tune with their bodies. Anyone who has ever received
a massage from a dancer is not likely to forget the experience.

This was WORSE than ignoring the coat SHBFashion left in my room. Did the content
of the paper make her think of me? Was this even a REAL paper?? I was a little ticked
that she was "using" me as a free typing service, but coming by my HOME on a
SATURDAY NIGHT to pick it up on her ONLY weekend back home? Shit, if she
didn't want to see me she could have typed it herself.



267
So I stick around for Game 4, lose a miniature (like 20 moves) to another strong A
player I probably could have beaten, but maybe not, then go home, and she's already
picked up the paper and left. She didn't know I was playing in a tournament, or maybe
Momtold her, but that's just fucked up.

Drew my last two games to finish 4-2. Six-way tie for first at 5-1, and PatronDude
shared first! He took the chess posse (including ProgrammerDude, a new addition, plus
his wife), plus PG-4 (my "date," and HustlerDude, who loves free food) out to TGI
Fridays on City(line) Avenue to "celebrate," blowing a good chunk of his winnings, but
money's no issue with his family, who wasn't there.

PatronDude was a "prodigy" a long time ago, hasn't made much noise about his game,
seems to be playing recreationally, and he's the first of the posse to go over 2000
(Expert), an irony not lost on me. I'd have joined himor taken his prize without
SHBDancer distracting me, I bet, but hey, that's what I get for trying to do two things at
once. In chess they call that "overextending." In seduction I call it FUCKING UP!
Never again. Yeah sure. Ray

p.s. -- saw HBFriendSis and HBFriendMomat their relative's house briefly. She's
LEGAL in this state (sixteen), but I don't think that would have gone over too well.
Guess it's okay to say she's developing nicely, but that's no shock given that
HBFriendMomis still hot.


Excuse me:
FUCK!!!!

I think that says it all.


Despite the incredible fuckup (I wanted the 4-0 start and the lay, and thought the
former was more important), I can only admire the mixture of skillz and sheer arrogance that
gave rise to this level of complacency. I was torturing this poor lass!! While super-elites may
not like random L-III escalation, knowing how to take care of business once she begins sending
fuck-me signals is a must, something I had yet to master. A man is not going to get too many
opportunities like this in his lifetime, and he will regret any on which he passes. Trust Several
corrections to my lack of L-III skillz would trace their origins to this evening, for with them, I
absolutely, positively get laid here.

Discuss this chapter on our forum: http://tinyurl.com/bos-fr-28



268
Field Report Twenty-Nine:
Yet Another Mistake With SHBDancer

If the Third Ace were Superman, shed have been checking her cornflakes for
Kryptonite. I doubt any other men were blowing her off:

DATE: J anuary 1989
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Mistake #6 w/SHBDancer
NOW PLAYING: Straight Up, by Paula Abdul
IN THE NEWS: Historians Ponder Reagan Legacy

Another field report, another FUCKUP with SHBDancer. I think that's six now. Maybe
she's doing this to prove my incompetence.

Head up to Manhattan around Noon to train chess in the Village (at the Chess Shop at
Third And Thompson). Before I do that, I head up to SHBDancer's dormto call up to
her room(sick of the indirect approach), figuring maybe I could take her to lunch or
hang out. As I get near the entrance, SHE WALKS OUT with an HBFriend (7.6).
They're on their way to class and then something else, but she asks if I'd like to hang out
later, like around 5:30. I tell her I'mthere for a tournament at 7:00 (for congruence), and
she backs off, not wanting to interfere with my "art" I think.

All I had to do to get a date or Day2 or whatever we're calling it now was to blow off a
stupid tournament they have every week. The trainfare wouldn't have been wasted. -Ray


I had become ProfessorDude, except I was still at the age where training might have
made a difference in my peak rating.


This was just temporary insanity, spawned of some misguided desire for congruence
with the chess persona. The impact of this Kate-positive lifestyle had become astounding. Had
I actually threatened to become a champion, God only knows what might then have happened
with the alpha gimmick, once the mainstream groupies went live.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7758-Field-Report-Twenty-
Nine-Yet-Another-Mistake-With-SHBD-Dancer-(Full-Text)



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Field Report Thirty:
Shes Just Sixteen Years Old.

....leave her alone, they said.

DATE: 14 Feb 1989 23:06:52 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Five-Hour Phone Call w/HBFriendSis
NOW PLAYING: Into The Night, by Benny Mardones
IN THE NEWS: Bush Promises "Kinder, Gentler America"

Wow. That didn't take long.

HBFriendSis, now technically legal, spent FIVE HOURS on the phone with me tonight.
On Valentine's Day. Conversation was completely innocent, and resulted fromher
brother not being home when I called. We just stayed on the phone, started talking, and
didn't stop. Huge comfort but we already get along very well. Family likes me too and I
want to keep it that way, so I kept it very light. Still, if push comes to shove, I can
always find another place to stay for tournaments then claimher in a few years. Maybe
they know this and keep their "enemies" closer. Not sure what HBFriendMomthinks,
and her dad is always nice as can be. Maybe they're plotting something evil, or maybe
I'mjust paranoid. j/k everything is still cool.

There was no phone sex, no negs, no escalation (just BEING on the phone that long with
her was enough for now), just a rapidly narrowing age gap that will be completely gone
in less than two years.

Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick....

Ray


They should mind their own fucking business! Le Clubs family had noted how close
we were getting, but, even here, it was not their business. I crossed no lines, met her only
because I was invited by her brother and his friend to stay for a tournament, and it was clear we
would remain in touch long after she came of age, which she already had, as far as
Pennsylvanias age-of-consent law was concerned. People meet all the time the way we had, and
most of the time, it doesnt lead to five-hour phone conversations.

Proposing marriage way down the road might have been the correct move here. A
conversation like this strongly suggested marital compatibility, as it was the solid L-II isolation
on which strong marriages are built. Instead, we were still hung up on how we had met, or what


270
others might think, as if those others had to live our lives for us. Whether or not we would
ultimately hook up would eventually resolve, but it should have been for reasons that had
nothing to do with her family, yet it seems this was the only reason we didnt wind up together,
although other factors definitely came into play. We just got along, and neither of us was
commitment-averse, so we didnt fear intimacy, instead almost welcoming it, to the extent our
ages, and my ties to her family, allowed.

I would wind up in love with Le Club, with this call a part of that process. For 1989,
she was my L-II Valentine, and we covered an amazing amount of ground during this call, one of
my all-time favorites.


With a do-over, I would have hinted at marriage down the road, just to see how she
reacted. This was not a game, but a legitimate soulmate-target, and, like most of my target-
roster, directly attributable to Kate. This, and ActorDude, were largely responsible for my rule
never to pass judgment on other couples, even if my best friend is dating my worst enemy. We
have no right to interfere in others relationships, or to presume that anyone needs our approval
to fuck anyone they want, for any reason they want. Unfortunately, in the real world, economic
leverage makes this type of interference possible, which is why lifestyle game can sometimes be
a necessity, if only to establish independence from situations like this. I lacked the means to
rescue Le Club if she was being oppressed, although things were not this bad. The
interference was minor, yet insidious, and, possibly, fatal to our destiny.

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Field Report Thirty-One:
Hypnotizing PG-4

Step by step, I would become an L-III PUA:

DATE: March 1989
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: All-Night Hypno Session w/PG-4
NOW PLAYING: I'm That Type Of Guy, by LL Cool J
IN THE NEWS: DOW Surpasses '87 Crash Levels

Came REALLY close to crossing the line with PG-4. Spent all night with her in a hotel
(we split the cost) hypnotizing the SHIT out of her. Took her REALLY deep and kept
her there for hours. Also toyed with some massage techniques but the hypno went much
better. Needed some SAFE practice for this "gimmick" before I use it on a REAL target.

Took her to dinner beforehand, a nice practice date, then we sat out in a field near the
hotel for another hour or so, before she agreed to the hypno experiment. She's really
submissive, does whatever I ask, but still doesn't seemto want a relationship, or figures I
wouldn't last in one. She's right, but only with regard to her. She's nice and all but
neither of us really does it for each other, plus she's more into GMDude, and never lets
me forget it. He's nowhere to be found, however, and I'min the area, so she tends to
default to spending time with me or talking on the phone.

Didn't know what to do for an induction, so I just copied stuff I heard on the tapes I've
used over the years. WORKED LIKE A CHARM! She dropped like a rock, really
deep, to where she was doing anything I told her. Didn't try anything sexual since she
could have been setting a trap, but my goal was to just prove I could hypnotize a chick,
and I did!! It felt POWERFUL, being able to reduce her to a "relaxed pile of bliss."
Should have done this before, especially with SHBDancer, but better late than never, and
maybe I'll get to try it with her yet, since we're supposedly still on good terms, even if I
haven't heard fromher.

You can try hypnosis on a lover, but it's a good idea to practice on a throwaway target at
first, or someone who's just so into you she's already tranced, but that can be like
throwing gasoline on a fire, since it'll just intensify her interest, and you may not want
that. This was perfect.

Ray



272

A perfect, and extremely useful, dry run, and a perfect use for a PG. All systems were
go for my long-overdue deployment of this L-III gimmick.


It pays to be prepared. No changes, with indirect props to the OTL, for the harsh
lesson in proper deployment of this powerful L-III gimmick. My game was evolving to where
it needed to be in 1983. This is what I needed to do before the attempted deployment of such a
powerful L-III gimmick with the OTL, or anyone else. I was finally cleared for L-III takeoff.

Readers who wish to shorten their VCABM, or the time it takes to get where I got,
should strongly consider developing their L-III game much earlier, though target-orientation
does not require this, since your soulmate is supposed to select you in L-II, after which L-III
escalation becomes the right idea, and if you get your L-III skillz elsewhere, well, youre
cheating on your oneitis. If you do this, however, the odds of your wanting to revert to the EL-
IIs which define a soulmate-search are slim. During the VCABM, my El-IIs were with my
soulmate-targets, because I was aiming at marriage, but I did the opposite post-VCABM, using
PGs for the EL-II, because I had gone feral, and EL-IIs were getting in the way of my lays. This
was not a conscious adjustment, but just worked out that way, because I just wasnt getting laid
by my EL-IIs, and, when I skipped L-II altogether, I was.

This flies in the face of the claim that men dont want commitment, suggesting that
the targets who lament this, are speaking only of pharmaceutical-grade men, not regular guys.
Indeed, the man who responds to this shit test by saying he wants a commitment, has
communicated that he is unworthy. Indeed, if an Emo connection were so important, PG-4
would have wanted me (she didnt), and the RHCs and above on whom I would be deploying my
new L-III gimmick would have chosen to fuck an AFC for the right reasons, rather than go for
something so impersonal as hypnosex.

As for the hypnosis gimmick, it was completely good to go, which I pretty much
knew, but it never hurts to make absolutely sure, with the best target-simulator I could find.

Report-Thirty-One-Hypnotizing-PG-4-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Thirty-Two:
It Pays To Remember Birthdays

With six failed shots at this super-elite basket, I resorted to an old standby, to set up
the seventh:

DATE: 03 Apr 1989 11:01:29 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Sent Birthday Card To SHBDancer
NOW PLAYING: Funky Cold Medina, by Tone Loc
IN THE NEWS: Nation Prays For Continued Good Health For Bush

SHBDancer has a birthday coming up! Nothing happening since the last fuckup so I
figured I'd shake things up with a birthday card.

Have to exhaust every last winning chance, like any good chessplayer would.

Ray


An excellent risk-free move, even if I had better.


An impromptu visit with a gift, perhaps dinner out, might have done the trick, while a
phone call would have expedited my chances. What I did wasnt bad at all, however.
Memorizing birthdays can be a lot more fruitful than memorizing the latest negs, or other stupid
PUA tricks, however AFC it might have seemed. A strong AFC can blow a PUA out of
the water with canned material like this.

Report-Thirty-Two-It-Pays-To-Remember-Birthdays-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Thirty-Three:
Passing Through Cougar Town

This further review has proven intriguing:

DATE: May 1989
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: My MomMeets HBFriendMom!
NOW PLAYING: Lost In Your Eyes, by Debbie Gibson
IN THE NEWS: Sunday Silence Upsets Easy Goer In Derby

Talked to HBFriendSis again on the phone when her brother was gone (again!). Good
conversation, about an hour, normal for us. Talked to HBFriendMOM before that, and
she told me she was coming by to a psychic fair over at International House (37th and
Chestnut), a mere hop, skip, and a jump. It was on Kentucky Derby day (today), so
Momand I walked over after watching the race, and she got to meet HBFriendMom,
which was pretty cool. Maybe HBFriendMomwanted to meet the in-laws LOL. I mean,
why else would she travel alone to my neighborhood and invite me to meet her when
she gets here? Ray


Chill out: I brought my Mom. My intentions were pure!


Were hers? My professional opinion is that they were not. This is not wishful
Thinking, due to the enormous regret such a delayed epiphany brings. I say this for two
reasons:

1. Its exactly the type of move she would have had to make, to keep rejection
by me risk-free.

2. If she didnt want me, and didnt want me wanting her, why would she
arrange a meeting like this? Women will avoid isolation with men they
dont want, and usually seek only proximity when they do. With her
husband, son, and daughter in her home, it would have been difficult for er
to make a move.

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Field Report Thirty-Four:
Love And Basketball

My seventh and eighth "missed shots" with SHBDancer would occur sequentially:

DATE: 04 J un 1989 14:01:09 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Sent A Dozen Roses To SHBDancer
NOW PLAYING: Lost In Your Eyes, by Debbie Gibson
IN THE NEWS: Pistons Slight Favorite To Defeat Lakers

Today was symbolic. Said "goodbye" to SHBDancer by sending her a dozen roses, for
Mistake #8 (Mistake #7 was not following up since J anuary, and this was Mistake #8). I
know this won't work, because it NEVER does, but I just need to prove it once more,
since I'msick of this EL-II. Something about dancers, Manhattan and me that never
seems to work out. I think it has to do with me not being J FK Jr. or some rich bachelor,
since SOME Tischie would want me if I were. This one DOES want me, or did. Bet she
runs like hell like the other two (SHBStore and SHBFashion) now that I've given her
nowhere to hide.

Game One of the NBA Finals is tonight. If you can still get a bet down, take the
PISTONS to win the series. I put my ONLY $300.00 on themto win (actually laid
$330.00 to win $300.00, or 6-5 odds), but I don't see themlosing any games. Their
bench is like a second starting five, and this is how they win: the bench comes in during
the third quarter, keeps the game even, then the starters come back rested and put the
game away at the beginning of the fourth. They are the only NBA teamwhose bench
plays as a unit. The Bulls have J ordan but Rodman and Laimbeer didn't let him
BREATHE. I could have bet $500.00 on the series if I hadn't taken that stupid trip to
Manhattan. Yes, I went up there to personally deliver the roses, like a true AFC. I think
I did it more out of spite, like when Khan set off that nuclear thing to kill Spock at the
end of Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan. "Fromhate's heart, I spit my last breath at
thee..." Great filmif you never saw it, amazing special-effects.

So who is the better bet: Detroit or SHBDancer? Do I even have to ask? J ust to make it
interesting, if SHBDancer wants me, I will give up sports betting, and if the Pistons win,
I'll give up on love. Oops, forgot to mention WHY I sent the roses: got a letter back
fromher, thanking me profusely for the birthday card, saying "it was right on time!"
(exclamation points are some weird foreplay with penpals). Then she informs me "I
have no more contact with ActorDude. We just lost touch." I interpreted this as a booty
call, her clearly letting me know she was available. So instead of just heading up to her
dormand fucking her, I do this, not to be stupid, but to prove that men who do this
expecting to get laid are stupid.

Ray


276


Pay attention: roses do not work. Ever. Send a really cheap bouquet or something
instead.


Roses, dancers, and Manhattan just never worked for me. Basketball did. With that
said, either SHBDancer shouldnt have bothered letting me know she had separated from
ActorDude, or she should have reacted positively. The implication that I had her when she wrote
back (if not, she was teasing), but lost her because I sent a dozen roses, speaks to the moral
hazard of being AFC, since a PUA wouldnt have had to take any risks here, instead just
remarking on her new available status. It seems that even pharmaceutical-grade women, even
when seeking an LTR, still judge men on their game. If so, this is sad, because you dont hear
them crying about how their cheating ex-boyfriend lacked game.

Since I wanted a real answer to the above, I pondered what scenario would have
SHBDancer wanting me, if I made the right moves, but forgetting me otherwise, and about the
only one I could come up with that didnt have her intentionally breaking my heart was that her
perception of my ability to take care of business had her assuming I would find someone else,
or, given my several missed shots under the basket, didnt want her badly enough. She may have
been right on all counts.

Report-Thirty-Four-Love-And-Basketball-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Thirty-Five:
Help! I Have An SHBStalker!!

Run for your lives!

DATE: 01 J ul 1989 14:01:09 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: I'mA Little TOO Into Chess Sometimes!
NOW PLAYING: Right Here Waiting, by Richard Marx
IN THE NEWS: Pistons Thought Likely To Repeat As Champs

Was walking down Chestnut Street this morning around 9:30, on the way to 19th and
J FK, to catch the #44 bus to the Adam's Mark, for the first day of the World Open, and
some hustling, skittles, catching up with the chess world, gaming the SHBYugoslavians
(9.0, 9.3) in town to sell shit, and doing what I always do this time of year. Suddenly,
about a block behind me, I notice this REALLY HOT BLUR walking fast. I cross the
street to simplify, and she crosses at the same time! Then I realize she's GAINING on
me! Why an SHB would do this is beyond me, but I was outgunned, so I let her catch
up, and found out why: it was SHBTakeout (now a 9.99). She's Indian, sixteen (legal!),
and about the hottest fucking thing I've ever laid eyes on. She greets me energetically,
and we begin chatting as we continue over the Chestnut Street bridge, with me slowing
down the pace.

She asks what I'mup to, and I tell her I'mon my way to a big chess tournament, the
World Open, held in Philadelphia every J uly 4 weekend. She perks up (what is it with
chess and SHBs?), tells me she's on her way downtown to an electronics store, but has
no other plans for the day. Seems she's going off to some dance camp for five weeks
(!!). I tell her I'mgrabbing breakfast in the restaurant at 21st and Chestnut (in the lobby
of ProgrammerDude's building), and invite her to tag along. She says she's not hungry,
doesn't eat restaurant food anyway (too processed she says), but would be happy to join
me while I ate. Damn, she's into me!

I'mdeciding what to do with her, whether to blow off the World Open for a chick who'll
be gone for the next five weeks, a fucking ETERNITY. God knows how many guys will
hit on her in that time, but how much can I get done in a day? Maybe if I had my own
place I could have isolated her, but that never happened much last summer when I had
two, so I doubted that would happen. This all caught me off-guard, and this is a big
tournament, so I #closed her and headed off to the game. Conversation was shitty,
because I didn't really know what to say. Showed my ignorance of Indian culture, but it
didn't appear fatal. The five weeks is the problemhere, so I'll see what's up when she
gets back.

Ray



278

Long live congruence! Too bad she didnt give a shit about my chessplaying. As I
was only four years removed from The Battle of Kate, I didnt recognize just how strong this IOI
was, since I didnt want to get the wrong idea. Instead, I just did my thing, and let a smattering
of live, pharmaceutical-grade women come to me, blind the significance of acts like following
me down a street. This woman wanted to be fucked, and fucked by me; it was my job to make
that happen, and she decided that a full, lazy summer Saturday was more than enough time, had I
really wanted her. She was hotter than even SHBPolitics, SHBStuckUp, or SHBBartender,
about the only three women Ive ever met who were clearly better-looking than the OTL, or
Kate.


He who hesitates is lost. If the reader can name even one activity hed rather be
engaging in than fucking a target like this, Id be shocked. Pharmaceutical-grade women like
this are why I spent so much time learning game in the first place. I suppose my gaming of
Kate had not truly died, since I was still ignoring way too many super-elites for any other
explanation to make sense. A desire to avoid oneitis, and the very strong EL-II with PG-4, were
other factors.

Report-Thirty-Five-Help!-I-Have-An-SHBStalker!!-(Full-Text)


279
Field Report Thirty-Six:
My First True Fuckbuddy

Just like my neighborhood, my building has always been exceptionally target-rich:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: SHBWharton Gets Down To Business
NOW PLAYING: Batdance, by Prince
IN THE NEWS: Bush Signs S&L ReformLaw; Bailout To Cost $500 Billion

First things first: called SHBTakeout when she got back, she was on another call, I said
"I'd like to see you," she said that was "not possible," and now we're done. Knew that
five weeks was going to kill that. No way she stays available that long. Would have had
to go for it back in J uly but how? I need more skills.

Now for the good stuff. I live in an INCREDIBLY target-rich area, where even where
you live is a "venue" since the whole 'hood is just LOADED. Meet SHBWharton (9.2)
in the elevator, and ask her about The Wall Street Journal she's reading. She says it's
for a class, so I do a mild neg:

ME: "Let me guess: Wharton."

HER: "Perceptive! What gave me away?" <she's smiling and joking>

ME: "So you're paying $30,000.00 a year to learn how to read the Journal?
Sign me up!"

HER: "Actually the government is paying for it and I pay themback when I
get the six-figure job they promised me."

HER: What's with all the books?"

ME: "Chess books. I play tournaments. "

HER: "Interesting. I've seen you on your skates."

Its ON:

ME: "I usually don't make that much of a fool of myself."

HER: "Funny! You looked fine. You were going FAST! Where'd you learn
to skate like that?"



280
ME: "Manhattan. Primary transportation."

HER: "I'mtoo scared to skate in the city. Do you run much?"

ME: "Nope, but I can skate all day."

HER: "That's too bad."

<standing by the elevator too long, we let it go, and wrap up>

ME: "When do you run?"

HER: "6:45 a.m. sharp. Done at 7:25 so I can get to class by 8:00."

ME: "I study chess until around 8:00 a.m. usually and sleep days. I can stay
up late and skate while you jog if you'd like."

HER: "Sure. J ust knock on my door tomorrow."

ME: "Make it Friday. I need to adjust my sleeping so I'mnot a zombie."

HER: "Sure thing."

WHARTON HAS NO CLASSES ON FRIDAY! We had more time to kill than I
expected. J ust went back for breakfast after the run/skate, she escalates by sitting almost
on my lap, I take that as a green light, do the hand-massage kino, next thing I know its a
makeout, and fromthere the lay is easy.

Ray


You can live in isolation, without neighbors, or you can live in a target-rich campus
fishbowl, and run parasitic game. Its up to you.


My stripper game was stronger than I realized!! I never confirmed she was one, but
her lifestyle and L-III skillz suggested she was, as did how easy she made it to escalate, another
trait common to adult-entertainers (when interested), as they almost always do the choosing,
because their jobs require them to fend off so much unwanted attention.

Report-Thirty-Six-My-First-True-Fuckbuddy-(Full-Text)


281
Field Report Thirty-Seven:
Shalom!

Sadly, a defining moment:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU++: Stood Up For A J ewish Medical Student w/PERFECT
Resume <puke>
NOW PLAYING: Cold Hearted, by Paula Abdul
IN THE NEWS: Agassi Edges Connors In Thrilling Five-Set Match
TARGET CARD: Queen Of Diamonds

I almost CRIED when Connors lost, because I always hear I'm"too old" to be a chess
champion, and Connors was just a little too old to handle the young punk Agassi, a no-
talent player who gets his ranking with his hair I think. Fuck, you'd think if a 37 year-
old guy like Connors can play TENNIS at that level, that a chessplayer should be good
until his fifties. Steinitz was fifty when he won his title, Lasker almost as old in his last
defense. Saw a thing on the news about a 37-year-old equestrian who just became a
champ after starting at fifteen and being told he was too old. It's not about age. Gonna
keep training until mid-1991 and reassess, but this chick made me wonder if I shouldn't
just quit.

Nailed a $388.00 double at Belmont, made about $500.00 on the day, and spent most of
it on a new wardrobe at the GAP. Horses are perking up again; had all three exactas in
the triple-crown races and made about $500.00 total. This latest hit is encouraging,
because I used an improved speed-figure method to get it. Not that anyone here gives a
shit about horses, but winning is a lifestyle boost, and lifestyle is part of game right?
Well $500.00 won't help here. This isn't LimoDude, but he will be. He's about to move
in with SHBMed (9.1), J ewish med student fromNYC who just became my neighbor.
We make a "date" to show her around Philadelphia (yeah right), she agrees, then cancels
without a word. Unlike SHBFashion, I cannot avoid this BETCH (made-up name, goes
over better than "bitch") so I avoid her as much as I can, but I still see her a lot due to
how we are situated.

No oneitis here; check the SHBWharton lay report for a general perspective. I like this
one more, and SHBWharton doesn't seemtoo into relationships. She's a live-in-the-
moment type, while SHBMed is the opposite, living ten years in the future, as evidenced
by her choice of ResumeDude (second-year med student), a little older, met her at
orientation I think (she's not the type to stand guys up without a reason), and now he's
living with her. This pisses me off: she's brilliant, smart, did not go the pre-med route,
and thinks like a New Yorker. Instant, deep rapport that continues even after she
rejected me; typical LJ BF/L-II crap. Also as evidenced by ResumeDude, she's an
image-conscious social climber who's dating a RESUME and not a man. Guy's a total
fucking dweeb, thinks he's hot shit because he's in med school and has a hot girlfriend.


282
Wait, he IS hot shit FUCK! Still think she's making the wrong choice. That resume shit
is gonna wear off, and even if it doesn't, all he sees in her is a perfect J ewish wife. My
religion didn't get me rejected, but it got himIN, which got me rejected.

So wtf do I do now? She's PERFECT: really smart, polished, great career, great mind,
excellent body, freakish body language, nice as can be, and with that dweeb. To add
insult to injury, PG-4 was giving me shit over Agassi's win over Connors. She likes
him, and he's younger than me, richer than me, better-looking than me, and more athletic
than me.

Is twenty-two too early for a midlife crisis? Think I'll give that chess lesson to
SHBWharton now.

Ray


This Fifth Ace, almost called Le Diamond, were that title not already taken, had
barriers to entry that even the OTL lacked. She was as fascinated by me as she was certain I was
not husband material, and, therefore, not worth more than an EL-II, yet seemed equally certain
that, without her requirements, Id have blown ResumeDude out of the water.


Thanks to SHBWharton, it took a lot for other targets to get my attention, but this one
just stood out. Her LTR extinguished neither our proximity, nor our ferocious chemistry. Even
if shed deny it to the world, even now, she chose the wrong man, and a part of her always
seemed to know it. This was pure resume romance. At least the OTL scored herself a few
dozen independently-wealthy playboys, before she found a six-figure provider chump for her
retirement, and her new gig, offering those private relaxation sessions.

The religious barrier was odd, yet one of several that would surface (like the resume
barrier, from time to time, but itd have harmed my game to fix it), as BNai Brith seemed to
have announced my bachelorhood. I would have had my pick of the lot, and chosen this one,
essentially the OTL-Lite, replete with super-strong EL-II.

Report-Thirty-Seven-Shalom!-(Full-Text)


283
Field Report Thirty-Eight:
Stage Door Ray

Public-transit game strikes again:

DATE: December 1989
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU++: HBJ ewish Steals Christmas!
NOW PLAYING: We Didn't Start The Fire, by Billy J oel
IN THE NEWS: S&L Crisis Deepens; Bush Popularity Plummets

Met the most fascinating young lady on the bus a few weeks ago: HBJ ewish (8.8)
looked like a hot Sally Brown (actually played her once), and was telling me about this
production of Scrooge her theater company was putting on. I said I'd see the play if
she'd remember me when I looked her up afterwards, and she said she would, so I
headed down to the new local theater company's production house, which was cozy,
seating maybe 200-250.

The play had "nontraditional casting," but was nice, not like Broadway, where it might
as well be a film. The acting was okay, but a Black Scrooge took a little getting used to.
I think I get it, but did they have to mess with Scrooge? This PC thing is getting out of
hand.

After the most boring two hours of my life, and some chats with NHBs during
intermission/cigarette break, I play stage-door J ohnny, and somehow work through the
crowd of one, to find HBJ ewish, on her way out. I compliment her performance,
particularly for remaining in character after walking off stage, a sign of professionalism.
I talk about my Manhattan upbringing, exposure to the arts, and chess, and she lights up,
talking about her studies, and whether to become a "professional" or pursue her acting
dream. We get to the bus stop on Walnut, and I offer to drop her at her dormon 39th
and Spruce by cab, a few blocks fromme, and she accepts. Conversation goes well,
until she gets out, then asks the fatal question:

HER: "What's your last name?"

ME: <name>

I should have added "stein" to the end, to let her know I was onto her, but I didn't figure
it out until the door was shut. Damn I'mstill slow. These HBs are merciless.

Ray



284

I suppose the blond hair and blue eyes didnt give it away. That she checked my ID
means she was L-III probing. The target went live off little more than being opened on the #21
bus, a ten-minute set, an invitation to watch her perform, and a taxi home, with the latter
completely optional. I even picked up a little Kate-positive culture along the way! If only Id
worked this hard to lay SHBDancer.


Conversion to Juadaism might have worked. Given how things were going, it was
definitely worth considering. Jewish women seem to have a thing for tall, good-looking,
intelligent, interesting men with reasonably bright futures.

Report-Thirty-Eight-Stage-Door-Ray-(Full-Text)


285
Field Report Thirty-Nine:
The Beginning Of The End Of The Chess Gimmick

My chess career met its watershed, just as others saw this as a sign I was actually
making progress:

DATE: 04 Feb 1990 17:27:42 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Almost Pulled Upset Of The Year!
NOW PLAYING: Another Day In Paradise, by Phil Collins
IN THE NEWS: Dallas Cancellation Rumors Swirl

Made some SERIOUS noise at a regional tournament this weekend. Spent the last two
weeks studying the Pirc Defense against my 1. e4 and go up there intending to win the
whole damn thing, since I'msick of losing. I get there, and my first round opponent is
rated 2508, former champion of Moscow. He plays into the line I've been studying, but
slightly different fromthe book, but I use general principles, and sacrifice a pawn for the
attack. I miss 19. Bxf7!!, which would have won (a sacrifice), and wound up losing on
time with a winning position. Got tons of props for the game, and a few masters said my
IM opponent was "beet red." Looks like I'mimproving, even if the tournament was
shot. I was like an unseeded player almost beating the top seed at Wimbledon.

Hung out with HBFriendSis Sunday night, again after everyone else went to bed, and
with no game the next day. She's prettier than ever, even legal, but I still won't make a
move due to the family dynamic. Not sure they'd even object, but don't need the
complication. We talked for an hour or so about all kinds of stuff. Something's there
but nothing's gonna happen now. Still gaming others, got a few throwaways, but I want
themat least as hot as SHBMed. SHBWharton still gives me looks, but she's too freaky.
Maybe an MLTR isn't as bad as I thought....nah, just up my game and then see if she
wants that. She REFUSES to have relationships, fucking untouchable. I should talk, I
haven't had a regular girlfriend (that I fucked, not a PG) in like six years. I get my sex
and Emo bullshit fromdifferent women, keeps things simple, and the sexual variety can't
be beat. It's also sharpening my skills having to start over every month. You guys in
LTRs get rusty and complacent, then you have a breakup and wonder where your game
went. DO NOT FALL INTO THIS TRAP!

Not much else is happening, but Momand I are winning at the track, so money is good
again. No need to spend it much around here, since everyone's broke and all the venues
are so cheap it's fucking ridiculous. A "real date" with dinner and a movie still costs no
more than $50.00, or about cabfare and cover charges by now in Manhattan. Glad I live
in a place that's so inexpensive and target-rich. This is even better than my old
apartment on the upper east side, and I never thought I'd be saying that.

Ray


286


A future world champion would have found 19. Bxf7!! (the winning move), but I did
not. This meant I was one step slow, the step that would leave me thirty-five years old, ranked
twelfth in the world, and hating life. It was time to quit, even if Id hang on to my dream for a
bit.


Le Club had turned seventeen, SHBWharton was on the way out, and our horses were
starting to win, mostly because I had improved the Beyer method, and begun solving the mid-
Atlantic tracks. Looking back, Id have been better off quitting chess right then and there, for it
was no longer an alpha gimmick, and had run its course. Like me, my rating was one step slow
as well. This game would be published in the August 1990 Chess Life, in Larry Evans column,
as an example of how shorter time controls were wreaking havoc with traditional chess.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?7894-Filed-Report-Thirty-
Nine-The-Beginning-Of-The-End-Of-The-Chess-Gimmick-(Full-Text)


287
Field Report Forty:
My First True L-III Conquest

What I needed to know in 1983, I had finally learned, by 1990:

DATE: March 1990
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR++: HBPhD Completely Mindcontrolled
NOW PLAYING: The Power, by Snap!
IN THE NEWS: UNLV Ends LMU Miracle Run

I have NEVER had this kind of CONTROL over a woman! This was FREAKY, like I
did what I wanted NHBHypnoMassage or HBFriendMomto do to me. The "target"
LOVED it, even said she loved me, but then took it back like she realized she was under
a spell, and she was. Completely. This skill is GREAT and every guy should learn it
(hypnomassage). She couldn't resist a thing: first-date lay, took about eight hours, then
we fucked until around noon.

Hypnotized PG-4 a while ago for some practice (went beautifully, she dropped like a
rock), then met HBPhD (8.1) outside the laundromat across the street. We talk about
basketball, and I mention the Final Four is coming up, so we make a "date" to go to
Cavanaugh's (college bar at 39th and Sansom) to watch the final four. I picked her up
around 7:30, but the games were already over. Oh well, it's just a stupid sporting event,
and now I had her full attention, which I wouldn't lose the entire evening. We chow
down on a nice dinner, then I invite her back to Walsh's for drinks. We land WAY in
the back, and get to REALLY talking.

FASCINATING conversation: sexual tension is out in the open, as she confides to me
she hasn't had sex in EIGHTEEN MONTHS! I'mlike damn, I thought I was in a dry
spell. We keep drinking and talking and I start into a hand massage, copying what
HBMassage did to me. Fifteen minutes later she can't grip her glass. We close Walsh's
and land in her apartment around 2:30, then begin making out on her couch, and I'm
massaging her again. Finally, the LMR surfaces:

HER: "Let's wait."
ME: "For what?"
HER: "You know. I just think it's good to wait."
ME: "Okay, let's wait a year."
HER: "A year!? Hmm, forget what I said about waiting."

Backpedal! Fifteen minutes later we're in her bed, so I could give her the full-body
massage I promised her. We keep making out and I set her down. I do whatever I could
remember fromHBMassage, and it's working well enough. Then I start hypnotizing her,
by copying my Dick Sutphen tape, and she goes right under. J ust put her lights out


288
completely, kept hypnotizing her even after I knew she was long gone, just to see how
deep I could get her. There comes a point when you're hypnotizing a chick that has
become completely nonresistant, and you can just do whatever the fuck you want. I've
got her with this totally open mind so I keep putting her under for like another two
hours. I had consent, so she was expecting to fuck me. Didn't want to brainwash her
into that though I probably could have.

Next I "wake her up" but keep her under, only thinking she's awake. This means she
thinks she's conscious, but still responding like she's hypnotized. It's funny as hell
because they think they're conscious, and I had her doing all kinds of stuff. She was on
fire because I kept giving her suggestions that she wanted me more than any man she
ever knew, and she just got louder and stronger as we fucked. Had her move in slow
motion for a while which was kinda fun, then froze her in place standing for like an hour
after that. This is like every man's dream: a completely obedient SEX SLAVE. I wake
her up, and she says:

HER: "I am more relaxed than I have ever been in my LIFE!"

She was. We cuddled for a bit, she said she loved me, then took it back, then we kept
fucking, then I went back home, grabbed lunch, and bet some races. Tomorrow's the
NCAA title game: anyone know who's playing? Awesome fucking night. Ray


This target never had a chance of resisting me, and was outplayed every step of the
way. The token LMR was touching, and gave rise to the reverse-timetable technique, which has
now given rise to the Year of Celibacy routine. The dry-run with PG-4 set the (massage) table
for this, while the hypnosis gimmick was finally deployed. The date was solid, which traces
back to SHBLunch, and the class drop from super-elite to RHC meant I wouldnt be needing any
Kasparov shit. The hand-massage escalation was a calculated risk which paid off huge. There
was also a venue-change, to Walshs, after dinner, which meant the date would extend until 2:00
a.m. and beyond, if it went well, instead of the end of dinner. This lay shows why L-III skillz are
so critical: men who lack them might have presumed a lack of opportunity to escalate.


The recent Yale murder case, involving a research tech and a similar HBPhD had
people speculating she was out of his league. She may have rejected him, but his job would not
have been the reason. They reject the alphabet-soup types all the time.

Report-Forty-My-First-True-L-III-Conquest-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Twenty-One:
Lifestyle Integration

The heart of PUA economics is lifestyle integration, the process of maximizing your
lifestyle game through efficiency. Most men practice mild forms of it, yet never tap its true
potential. A truly integrated lifestyle can be amazingly powerful, as extra time and money free
up, while the gimmicks wind up sharpened. Your alpha gimmick should be the centerpiece,
much like chess was in The Summer of Twenty-One, with everything geared towards
maximizing its strength. The dollar or so an hour I was sacrificed by downgrading my regular
work paid off in increased prize money, more chess progress, and, of course, better seduction
results. In Manhattan, the loss of training time during the day was offset by the world-class
tournaments at the Manhattan, and, of course, by the proximity.

Student-Funded Game: Beyer And Mystery

Both Beyer and Mystery exemplify lifestyle integration, because each has acquired
status and wealth via their alpha gimmicks, and managed to fund their game through revenue
earned from their disciples, something not the case for the disciples themselves. This gives each
a tremendous edge in their own game, because the lack of infrastructure costs affords them a
level of patience not possible when one is paying, rather than getting paid, to play. While both
Beyer and Mystery have large followings, and have contributed to the theory of their respective
endeavors, so have many others, often without the income benefits that come with their level of
lifestyle integration.

Elements Of Lifestyle Integration

Call it the multipurpose-driven life. The five basic elements of lifestyle integration
are:

1. Work;
2. Play;
3. Housing;
4. Social-circle; and
5. Seduction

The rockstar lifestyle integrates all five elements, with a sixth for interest
integration, if he adds gimmicks like teaching music, instrument repair, and the like, to his
repertoire (a true rockstar obviously wont have to). Mindbuilding caused most of my interests
to integrate naturally. Few men will integrate all five elements, with most stopping after one or
two. Training at chess while pulling a receptionists paycheck integrated #1-2 into a single alpha
gimmick, which was then used to further integrate #4-5, and, during The Summer of Twenty-
One, #3. Men who live in target-rich areas integrate #3-5, while those who work in jobs
involving their alpha gimmick, or which are target-rich, integrate #1, #5, and sometimes, #4.


290

The 1990 Belmont Stakes

On Belmont Stakes day, 1990, I competed in the all-night insanity tournament at the
Manhattan Chess Club, a chance to get eleven rated games in for $30.00, and won $150.00 on
Belmont winner Go And Go, for what seemed like a perfectly integrated day, but which was
anything but. As it turned out, trying to do two things at once worked out no better with
horseplaying and chess, as it had with fucking super-elites and chess. This time, the $75.00+I
spent on Amtrak, and the entry fee, served only to cut my wager on Go And Go, on a race where
I didnt even hear the stretch call, thanks to the train entering the Hudson-River tunnel, while
staying home would have gotten me $38.40 on Go And Go, with the money I blew on the
tournament available for a much larger win bet. Thanks to the internet, this would not be an
issue today, but there once was a time when we had to go out to do things, and couldnt be in two
places at once.

One very impressive lifestyle integration from the chess world was Fred Waitzkin,
whose Searching For Bobby Fischer was written while his son played his tournament games,
got free lessons for being a prodigy, and a scholarship to Dalton, all from a boardgame that
fathers and sons play just to kill time, and all from a rating that did not exceed 1800, when he
got his scholarship. Like most smart chessplayers, the son would retire after college, thus
burning up more money devoted to the search for the Great American Hope. Had the elder
Waitzkin merely socialized during play, he would have made far less money, for a similar time
investment, a microcosm of just how far shy of our potential those who do not similarly integrate
will fall.

Finding a talent, and working it into an alpha gimmick, pays off, particularly when
age-appropriate, as chess no longer was for me, at twenty-three, the way it had been even at
twenty-one. My chess progress was fine, but the lifestyle had begun to lose its appeal,
particularly as the racetrack sprang back to life, and with the Red Queen threatening the
profitability of Beyers method, meaning I had a limited number of years to cash in. This had me
shifting my lifestyle-integration towards horseplaying, and sports betting, with chess relegated to
mere avocation, or what I would do when I had nothing to do and no tracks were running.
Absent the Samford Fellowship, the chess persona was about to die off anyway, since my rating
wasnt yet where I needed it to be. Had I been 2200, I would have considered playing on after
applying, but I was still all-out to get there, figuring my strength at around 2150, even if I were
not a class-conscious A-player.

The Same fellowship would have integrated work, play, and seduction, due to it being
a strong DHV, especially with minddiggers, and it would have led to premium teaching gigs,
particularly in Manhattan. CEOCousin actually paid me a babysitters fee for a three-hour
lesson given to his young daughter, the recipient of an invitation to Ivanka Trumps sixth
birthday party at the Plaza (it just happened to be lying in their kitchen). CEOCousin worked
hard, starting with relatively little after college, and I used to call him George Jefferson


291
because every time I looked, he was opening up a new store, even if his wife didnt get mad like
Wheezie. That whole side of the family began banking in the 1980s, through work, and inflating
apartment values, since their buildings had converted, while mine had not, giving them the
insiders rights windfall.

Target-Rich Lifestyle Integration

Work, play, and housing are all ripe for integration with seduction, just by making
each as target-rich as possible. Since 1986, I have never seen a reason to move, due to the Ivy-
League fishbowl in which I live. My work is no longer integrated, since I work alone, from
home, but was highly integrated in my youth. Quitting chess would allow my long-dormant L-I
game to activate, as it had begun doing at Garden State Park, a surprisingly target-rich venue
during that time, and one which had me passing through center city a great deal on the way there
and back. Although the many hours spent training in alpha isolation had me gaming few or no
targets, the DHV with which I would present, when a live target materialized, more than
compensated.

Work and housing are actually easiest to integrate, since we can pretty much pick and
choose either, while our social lives are a bit more taxing, particularly for loners who tend
towards male-dominated interests. Chess was an alpha gimmick, but that didnt mean the super-
elites who wanted to fuck a chessplayer also wanted to spend sixty hours a week watching me
train. The OTL could have gone through my Double Ex winnings in a week, but that doesnt
mean shed enjoy the track, or watching me transcribe speed-figures into the DRF. My
neighborhood served up a steady stream of live targets, while the alpha gimmicks, and my new
L-III gimmicks, made it easier than ever to convert even mild L-II opportunity into a lay. More
advanced work-play integration comes with jobs like package-delivery driver, room-service
waiter, or almost anything connected to the nightlife. On the flip side, the OTL integrated her
lifestyle nicely, by merging her employer- and suitor-classes into one large social-circle, as many
Manhattan Aces will.

Since the chess persona was constructed primarily as a device for gaming Kate, it
could be argued that seduction has been the central theme of all my lifestyle integration, since
late 1983, when the OTL had me placing it above all other pursuits. My life is not one-
dimensional; seduction is just not as easy as the rest of it. It is a lifetime discipline, and now a
multimillion-dollar, internet-based self-help niche. Losing against the OTL, and then Kate, left
me fascinated with the process that had given me winning chances at all, a minefield I wanted to
dissect, solve, and, eventually, learn to navigate, much like todays community newbies. I just
happened to come of age in an era without the internet infrastructure, and happened to be online
when it was built.



292
Keeping To Task

Without the of pharmaceutical-grade women guiding your integration, much of what
you do will harm your results, because you just wont care enough to make things happen. Even
PUAs usually restrict their target-roster to RHCs, their game to L-I venues, and their LTRs
and marriages to the one special hookup. They do what theyre supposed to do, according to Big
Media, and everyone who gets their marching orders from Big Media, while guys like me
detach from the grid, drop out with a 4.0 GPA, work temp jobs, study chess, and have
pharmaceutical-grade Tischies stalking us in Washington Square Park, when were not busy
avoiding not-yet-legal future-SHBs, whose near-fifty moms wed still like to fuck. This is not
what most in the community would consider very strong lifestyle game, yet the results speak
for themselves, and the power of lifestyle integration.

Like Kate herself, the Kate-positive lifestyle is an acquired taste. Shifting your focus
to where pharmaceutical-grade women become your primary mission in life, will not occur
overnight. The singleminded emphasis on wealth is the quickest, and surest, path to success,
since it yields OTL-types, or, more likely, SHBMed-types, but balance is equally important, as I
learned from The Summer of Twenty-One. I found it easier to stand out with the minddiggers,
than to attempt to become wealthier than LimoDude, or make my looks perfect, instead worrying
only about my infrastructure costs. With SHBDancer, I had pretty much done what I had done
before, with the OTL, and then with Kate, by cultivating a live soulmate-target, this time with
much stronger IOIs from her end, and even several fuck-me signals. My game had evolved,
with lifestyle integration playing a key role in improving my PUA economics.

Examples of subsequent, and present lifestyle-integration techniques will be addressed
in the remainder of the text.

Lesson-Twenty-One-Lifestyle-Integration-(Full-Text)



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Field Report Forty-One:
Cockblock Prevents Lay Of PG-4

With SHBDancer, I cry. With PG-4, I laugh.:

DATE: March 1990
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Blown Lay With PG-4
NOW PLAYING: Bust A Move, by Young MC
IN THE NEWS: Kasparov-Karpov Vie For Title Again
TARGET CARD: Ten Of Clubs

Had a hell of a weekend at a minor chess tournament (arent they all?). My rating is
stuck at around 1920, and this tournament has a prize for under-2100 (not u-2000),
which means Imgonna have to beat EXPERTS to nail the class prize. Its a four-
rounder, so anything can happen, and I pay my entry fee and play. PG-4 is also entered,
but we werent paired (only time we ever were we drew), and she doesnt play socially,
probably to keep her friendships intact.

So I play the first round, and draw, then lose a game, win another, and get the fourth
round against some guy with a 1950 rating. I sacrifice a pawn on f4 as black, and the
next thing I know six pieces are surrounding his king. He walks out of the room with
this look on his face. I ask if hes mad and he says I havent been attacked like that
EVER! It was a nice attack, but speculative. It just worked out.

I score 2 out of four, which gets me the $35.00 class prize, off a $20.00 entry fee.
Whoopie!

Caught up with PG-4 at the bar Sunday night. Were drinking our asses off, and flirting
with increasing intensity. I hint that maybe she should get us a roombecause she had a
credit-card, but shes ambiguous. She gets up to go to the bathroom, and while shes
gone, ClubDude, a guy fromthe Manhattan who knows both of us, lands at the seat IN
BETWEEN US. Hes smashed as well so theres no reasoning with him, and we dont
advertise to the chess world we hang out, so we want to play it cool until he leaves. That
takes about a half hour, when he finally figured out why we might be drinking together,
and he exited, but the mood was broken. I see PG-4 to the bus and grab a cab home.

I learn the next day she was ready to rent the room. FUCK!!

Ray

p.s. she saw me at another tournament giving a very public lesson to HBFriendSis,
who had popped in to watch PatronDude. All the geeks fromthat circuit were duly
impressed.



294
p.p.s. met a sixteen year-old SHB (9.7) on the way home froma scholastic chess
tournament I was coaching, but Id been up two days and dont know the age laws
here (I think its sixteen) so I backed off. Man she was HOT! She opened me on
the street, smiled widely, just WAITING for me to make a move, but I didnt. Im
an IDIOT sometimes!


PG-4 had decided to fuck me, if I were willing. I was willing,sort of. Then
ClubDude showed up. I had dusted off ActorDude, and all of McCools, in the past, yet was
bested by a drunken AFC my target had long-ago disqualified? Somehow, I dont think my A-
game was out, except in the tournament hall, where I took no prisoners.


The public chess lesson given to Le Club was powerful. We had that future-couple
vibe, as if we just belonged in proximity, with each of us making the other appear way better
than we did alone. Upon seeing her rival, PG-4 reacted as if she had just smashed into concrete
at full speed. Here, we just laughed at the sudden interest ClubDude had taken in socializing
with us. Because it was PG-4, and not a super-elite, I toyed with the lay, alternating between
carrying it out or not, in a way that is not possible with pharmaceutical-grade women, except
maybe for PUACousin. In other words, I had become Kate.

Report-Forty-One-Cockblock-Prevents-Lay-Of-PG-4-(Full-Text)



295
Field Report Forty-Two:
Single Mother = Empty Net

They say the nice guy wins in the end. They just don't tell him to check the date on
the prize:

DATE: May 1990
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: SHBDentist Helps w/HBSingleMom
NOW PLAYING: Vogue, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Middle East Tensions Reignite
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Diamonds/Queen Of Clubs

Lifestyle has changed subtly recently. My PICTURE appeared in Philadelphia
magazine! Article on the nonalcoholic nightlife had their photojournalist at my local
coffeehouse, where I'm, playing against some guy, and his HBGirlfriend is looking on.
One of those slice-of-life pictures I used to laugh at, because it looks so much cooler in
the magazine than when I was just sitting there fucking around at chess. Haven't won
much in tournaments, but in coffeehouses I'mlike the alpha chess guy. Fine with me.

My building had a brownout a few weeks, ago, the whole building went pitch dark on a
hot day. I help HBSingleMom(8.9) up nine floors to her apartment, and since there's
nothing else to do, we talk for like a few hours. Her kid doesn't like me, or maybe any
guy, but he's smart as hell, probably even knows I want his mom(he's four). She has a
GREAT body, especially since she's had a kid. She's twenty-five and not working,
maybe getting alimony or child-support. She's not married, but separated. Really
screwed up. She's got a "phantomboyfriend" (PB-1), who works like my PGs, only I
think he wants the real thing. He's a classic AFC and does everything for her except
fuck her, which I think she was considering me for. Key word: WAS. This didn't go
anywhere, but we had a nice drink "date" tonight.

Saw HBSingleMomagain after SHBDentist (9.2, learned hypnosis in dental school like
all dental students) gives me some stuffed animals before she moves. She's too distant,
but these animals are worth like $50.00 apiece: really well-made, the perfect gift for
HBSingleMom, so I scoop themup, then bring them to her. She freaks out until she
realized I got themfroma departing student and had nowhere else to put them, then
thanked me. This was during the Michigan-Loyola game, and she's rooting for Loyola.
I bet her a drink back in March that Michigan would come back, and lose (my intention),
when Loyola runs up the score and wins 149-115. Gathers had them juiced, and they
didn't miss a three. The real tribute to Gathers was the loss to UNLV, who just walked
through the hole he left, to win easily.

So we finally go for the drink, and she's telling me how she still loves her husband, and
this new guy wants her but she's not into him, doesn't know what to do, etc. I could have
escalated but it would have been major drama, not worth the lay, plus she has a kid and


296
isn't even divorced yet. PB-1 can have her and the headaches. She ignored me for him
one night already at the same bar (Walsh's), and I got the vibe she's getting ready to fuck
him, but he's got NO game (if he did he wouldn't be wasting his time).

Nothing innovative or new here, just an interesting few weeks on the homefront.
HBPhD hooked up with a guy like ten times hotter than me, so maybe that was it. Girl
has game. Also saw NHBHypnoMassage working at another new-age place, and she's
SHBHypnoMassage (9.5) now. Looks like she got in touch with her "inner golddigger."
Damn she was hot. J ust moved into a really nice sublet in my building. CHEAP! Ray


Seinfeld would later do an episode about a guy who intentionally lost a "dinner bet" to
Elaine as a means of scamming her out of a date. I was amazed it worked when I did it with a
drink! With PB-1 drawing to an inside straight, my target was able to be picky in a way that
made her impossible to game, because, despite her proven inability to choose men, she
continued to select with arrogance. She was very hot, and thought that was enough; it would
have been, if she had been more diligent in screening her suitors. That her toddler couldnt stand
me didnt help much.


PB-1 made it difficult for any man to compete. His strategy sucked, since it fails most
of the time, but it gives him the inside track, and her exercising the option for a devoted
boyfriend was just common sense. Im guessing I had a lay in here somewhere, but it was not
easily apparent, and the tie goes against any neighbor, because the building is too target-rich,
with each target moving out within a year or two, tops, for it to be worth risking any kind of
drama. This one was very clearly attracted to me, yet determined not to fuck me, since she knew
I was commitment-averse.

This is yet another case where an AFC can say one thing, a PUA another, and
both can be right. In this case, the AFC would say PB-1 was correct in courting
HBSingleMom, because thats the right idea, yet the PUA would also be correct in saying that
it is an unprofitable idea, one which will ruin most men who chase this dream. After The Battle
of Kate, I had to choose whether or not to continue my soulmate-search, and elected to terminate
it, a decision made much easier by Kate, because I never did meet anyone comparable, and only
Le Club would have worked for me as a wife (SHBDancer might have for the few minutes we
were home together). I leave the OTL out of this, because the woman I thought I loved, was a
golddigging wh er, Diamond, and, therefore, never existed, but in every other area we were
about as compatible as two people can be.

Report-Forty-Two-Single-Mother-Empty-Net-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Forty-Three:
If She Could Turn Back Time

I felt so sophisticated:

DATE: 17 J ul 1990 23:15:09
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Concert "Date" w/NHBNurse
NOW PLAYING: If I Could Turn Back Time, by Cher
IN THE NEWS: Bush Popularity Continues To Plummet

If it were not for the age difference, and her being a neighbor, I'd think I'd just been on a
DATE. J ust got back froma REALLY cool Cher concert, to which I won a pair of
tickets just yesterday. I needed a ride to the radio station (next to the Adam's Mark) to
get the tickets, and I take NHBNurse (7.6) to breakfast at Denny's as a thank-you. Turns
out she's a huge Cher fan so she wants to go to the concert too! That gives me a ride,
and a "date." She's in her late-thirties, but still an NHB, probably an FHB (former hot
babe),but still very attractive, and a nurse. We have a bit of an ambiguous history that
just became a lot more ambiguous.

Cher was excellent tonight, great show at the Spectrum. Always liked her, also liked
Suspect a few years back. NHBNurse had a great time, and we went to the Melrose
Diner afterwards for dinner. Never been there but it wasn't bad, the place is legendary
among locals, especially in South Philly.

Nothing physical happened, mostly due to the drama that would have resulted, but
there's some attraction here. Been gaming long enough to know the difference. She's
got legitimate questions about our ages, I'msure. Think she might have a boyfriend
somewhere.

Ray

p.s. she has an AWESOME car for riding shotgun.


My preteen hobby of winning radio-station contests paid off! She had the car, liked
Cher, and was around in mid-morning, to drive me to get them. A definite no-brainer. Also an
ego boost, given her advanced degrees, the kind every Cosmo reader is convinced would have
disqualified me, and every Yale-murder pundit, yet which never seemed to.



298

Within the EL-II limitations, this date was flawless, and good general practice, even if
it didnt rise to the level of a bootcamp. The target was well-preserved, mature, yet still running
strong game as she pushed forty. Admirable. We just looked good together, and had fun.

What was really going on was even simpler: men my age were supposed to be getting
married. Ferality begins to rule in a PUAs mid-twenties, as his skillz continue to sharpen,
and his rivals fall by the wayside, or hopelessly behind, with a new crop of barely-legal super-
elites emerging literally every year, and most not wanting to date younger men. Its like the
opposite of high-school.

Report-Forty-Three-If-She-Could-Turn-Back-Time-(Full-Text)


299
Field Report Forty-Four:
A Measure Of Respectability

Were this not an SHB, the field report would have little of note:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Lunch Date With SHBOptometrist
NOW PLAYING: Cradle Of Love, by Billy Idol
IN THE NEWS: Iraq Invades Kuwait, Uses "Human Shields" To Fend Off "Great
Satan"

Before I get to the Lunch date, I just picked up another phantomgirlfriend, PG-5, but
she's not as serious as PG-4, plus she's an SHB (9.0), with all kinds of guys after her.
Technically she's not a PG I guess but we talk like she is. Got her #and call her a lot but
it's pure LJ BF, and she made that clear. She tends bar once a week and works retail, so I
pop in to say hi and chat, bought some drinks fromher last weekend. She's cool to drink
and hang with.

SHBOptometrist (9.2) is a neighbor who also works at Temple, so we agreed to have
lunch. Been flirting on and off with her for a while, so I took her to this pizza/steak
place I eat it, there's like NOTHING in the way of good food up there. We have a nice
lunch and convo, but no spark. She's hot as hell too: Asian, in great shape. I should
want her more than I do, but sometimes it's not there. We still see each other at work
occasionally and are still friends. Gonna next this one and don't think anything will
happen. J ob is cool but the location is NOT. Broad and fucking ONTARIO!
Dangerous as hell, especially at night, but day is not so bad. Ray


An amazing lack of chemistry, but it scores as a lunch date with an SHB, thus padding
my individual stats, like any modern athlete would.


This one had strong pivot potential, had I aimed in that direction. With Le Club going
legal, and live, I wasnt too concerned. If results were all I cared about, I could have stopped
pushing my boundaries, focused all my efforts on Le Club, and probably married her, with a nice
text about my PUA career leading up to its neatly-tied conclusion.

Report-Forty-Four-A-Measure-Of-Respectability-(Full-Text)


300
Lesson Twenty-Two:
Formal L-III Training Pays Off

Can you hypnotize a pharmaceutical-grade woman into hallucination and amnesia?
Probably not. Can you give one a professional-quality, full-body massage? Again, doubtful. A
few months shy of my twenty-fourth birthday, I had begun deploying them in my game, in
both L-II and L-III. Suffice it to say that men who lack these L-III gimmicks, or something
comparable, are going to lose when pitted against men like me, an example of how rivals bring
their A-game for the super-elites. who have a surprisingly voracious appetite for being
massaged, and mind-controlled. SHBMeds reaction to the massage class I completed, in the fall
of 1990, was priceless, and all I needed to know, since she would bring it up, unprovoked, when
our paths would cross.

After parting ways with NHBHypnoMassage (who then became SHBHypnoMassage),
I began receiving regular massages from HBMassage, without the hypno, and signed up for the
fifty-hour certification class she offered with MassageDude. Tuition was $900.00 for the
twelve-week course, with graduates receiving a certificate, and information on how to take the
AMTA exam, not required in Pennsylvania, to practice massage, but useful massage cred.
With the recession deepening, a backup career made sense, plus I wanted the L-III gimmick, for
targets like SHBDancer, who had given me such a golden opportunity with her massage from a
dancer reference in the paper I typed for her.

The dry-run with PG-4 was useful, but I knew my massages didnt measure up to
HBMassages standards, and I wanted to close the gap, so Id be a true expert the next time I
would deploy the gimmick. For the hypnosis gimmick, I was able to skip, due to a relatively
intense, lifetime study, but I needed all the training I could get for massage, which required a
much greater knowledge of physiology, and which had techniques that have been developed
over thousands of years. The class was among the best $900.00 Ive ever spent, as I emerged a
qualified masseur, for entry level places like Toppers Spa, where a half-hour, assembly-line
massage is part of an all-day relaxation package. Presuming a large gay male and UG clientele,
this option would have been a last resort, since my primary purpose for taking the class was the
L-III gimmick, and I dont like mixing work with L-III.

The wannabe alphas in the community look lame when they posture about
dominance and frame-control, when most would freeze in their tracks if offered the chance to
give a full-body massage, with hypno, to a pharmaceutical-grade woman. If advised to acquire
skillz like this, they would laugh equally, at advice and advisor alike, using their own
stereotyping to dismiss actual solutions to problems they spend their lives attempting to solve.
They might pursue a target here and there, seduce a few, and wind up settling for the hottest one
they can keep, but on a much higher level, they arent even picking up the bat. I consider this
work easy in that any man can do it, yet most men were not out the door by 8:00 a.m. on a
Saturday, in order to finish a class like this, nor were many willing to shell out the $900.00
tuition, a fraction of what todays bootcamps cost.


301

With so few men having game in 1990, my L-III gimmicks were even more
powerful than they would be now, for the reader. There was no modern internet to speak of, but
there were bookstores, talk shows, workshops, workgroups, interest and hobby groups, and a
thriving, new-age subculture, in most major cities. Anyone who walked around center city, or
South Street, was going to find these places; they were not some secret society, into which one
had to be introduced, and indoctrinated. I stumbled upon NHBHypnoMassage via a storefront
relaxation center, took a look around, tried it, and that was that. Once there, finding
HBMassage, and others, was just a matter of opening the phonebook.

L-II Deployment Of L-III Gimmicks

Unlike most L-III gimmicks, or what some might call fetishes, hypnosis and massage
are easily deployed in L-II, and are most effective if you discuss how you deploy them with other
targets, preferably when prompted. Many targets will melt themselves into the fantasy, wishing
youd to do her what you do to your indirect pivot, phantom or otherwise. Formal training in
these gimmicks amplifies their effectiveness, and gives a man the ability to just conquer a
woman, by exploiting a single, brief window of L-II opportunity, like a hand-massage in a bar,
which is all it took to ultimately inflict total mind-control on HBPhD. My actual preference is
for someone like NHBHypnoMassage, MomOfClubs, or Le Club to do the same for me, but
sorceresses are not easily found, particularly the Ace-of-Clubs variety, let alone escorted into L-
III, so its easier for the PUA to resign himself to the predatory role of hypnomasseur. The
exception, of course, is the wealthy male, for whom Aces of Diamonds will line up for the
chance of proving themselves with one of those private relaxation sessions, at which the OTL is
now so proficient.

Perhaps the ultimate L-II deployment of any L-III gimmick is that of the stage
hypnotist, who can spend his days globetrotting, hypnotizing numerous super-elites, his
intentions cloaked by the general audience, and just remain in touch with the hottest of his
groupies, particularly over the internet. He can use audio and video hypnosis to retain total mind
control, and build a global harem, all the while earning a six-figure salary, and making
numerous media appearances, many of which will be PG-13, or even R or NC-17 in rating, with
still more eager super-elites, just dying to be brainwashed. Many men actually live this dream,
but have little reason to Red-Queen themselves by bragging. I have never run the hypnosis
gimmick in such a hardcore fashion, but I must admit, the idea has been very tempting, at times.

Upon completion of the massage course, I would deploy the massage gimmick
liberally, usually by initiating a hand-massage, which, if the target remained live, would escalate
to extended hand-holding, and, from there, usually (but not always) a lay. My professional
massage skillz also enabled me to detect live kino, where the target returns energy, and dead
kino, where she merely tolerates the invasion of her physicality. This enabled me to avoid
riskier tactics, like asking for dates, or *closing, since five seconds with her hand had become all


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I needed to determine my winning chances, and to convert them effortlessly, when they were
present.

Any reader who is seriously contemplating spending thousands of dollars, plus travel
time and expenses, on a seduction bootcamp from some reality-show contestant, would be
wise to consider investing in certification classes for massage and hypnosis, with an
acting/improvisation class on the side, and the rest deployed as TURD-money, once the new L-
III gimmicks are in place. Even shy AFCs can run these as L-II gimmicks, until he feels more
comfortable escalating, or if he wants to deploy them only in the context of a soulmate-pairing.
What is clear is that his results will skyrocket with this training, even now. Indeed, they are the
few elements of my game which have truly improved with age.

Lesson-Twenty-Two-Formal-L-III-Training-Pays-Off-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Forty-Five:
Chess Groupie Stalkers, On The Next Geraldo

Run for your lives!:

DATE: October 1990
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: SHBIndian Is A Chess Groupie!
NOW PLAYING: Black Cat, by J anet J ackson
IN THE NEWS: Giants Remain Undefeated; Gulf War Looms

Not gonna quit chess just yet! Not after tonight. SHBIndian (9.7) was playing chess at
the coffeehouse, and was beating up on some guy. She's sharp, about 1700 strength, like
many Indian chicks. India is like the only country where women like being smart, and
don't hide it. They also like smart guys and chessplayers, so my A-game came out fast.

I look at the board, then SHBIndian, and smile:

ME: "I'll take the winner."

HER: "Okay."

HIM: "Okay. Wonder who you're rooting for hehe."

Great, a geek AMOG, who doesn't even know he's busted.

ME: "Game's not over yet. No telling who might win."

Three moves later, he loses. I sit down to play SHBIndian:

ME: "Nice opening. King's Indian?"

HER: "Old Indian."

ME: "Same pawn structure."

HER: "A little safer."

ME: "I don't play 1. d4."

HER: "Ah, so it doesn't matter except maybe against the Pirc."

ME: "Tell me you're married."



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HER: "I'mnot."

ME: "Tell me you have a boyfriend."

HER: "I don't."

ME: "Let me guess: you live in India."

HER: "New York, but Imfrom there."

ME: "I play there a lot at the Manhattan."

HER: "I don't like tournaments, but I play at home a lot."

ME: "Yeah, I like to train at home. It's quiet. What brings you down here?"

HER: "Checking out grad schools. That was very clever."

ME: "Known trap. Wins a piece or the queen."

Other guy is long gone. Furniture people (those whose lives are the coffeehouse) are
watching in amazement.

HER: "Play another?"

ME: "Sure."

HER: "I like that you didn't let me win."

ME: "That would be lame."

HER: "Can you show me how to play the opening?"

ME: "Sure."

Give her an intense, one-hour lesson, and she thanks me. We hang and chat for another
hour, and she leaves:

HER: <gives #>"Give me a call if you're in New York."

Checkmate.

Ray



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Hotter groupies, who dont even check for rating, or international standing, probing
only for the dominant player in a venue that never measures up to its stereotype when it comes to
chess ability (tournament players are too busy to train in public, as a rule). Coffeehouse chess
and I got along famously.


Now you know why American players dont win internationally.

Discuss this chapter (link):
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8389-Field-Report-Forty-
Five-Chess-Groupie-Stalkers-On-The-Next-Geraldo-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Forty-Six:
Lifestyle Rift

Ironic timing, given the big win that followed soon after:

DATE: October 1990
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Major Fight w/PatronDude Cuts Off HBFriendSis
NOW PLAYING: Someday, by Mariah Carey
IN THE NEWS: Giants Remain Undefeated; Gulf War Looms
TARGET CARD: Ace of Clubs (x2)

What a FUCKING ASSHOLE! J ust when you think you know someone, and ALWAYS
when you NEED someone, they reveal their ugly, true colors. This was fucking UGLY
too. God may help those who help themselves, but people sure won't, especially when
they cop an attitude.

PatronDude and his family have been EXTREMELY generous to me in the past, but that
was all related to chess, which is NOT a necessity. If he'd never driven me to a single
tournament, or put me up for a single night for the tournaments he enabled me to enter,
my training wouldn't have suffered one bit. This time, however, I needed his help to do
a $3,000.00 typing job that had to be done on a Mac. He could have helped me rent one,
just by using his credit-card (I don't have one) to secure the rental, but he wouldn't
fucking do it! Not only that, but when I asked, he starts up a shitstorm about how
financially irresponsible I am, how I need to get a REAL JOB, and stop "mooching off
others." Like FUCK YOU DUDE. Hell I even HAVE a job, just not a credit-card.

Wound up calling a mutual friend of Boards, who came through with no questions
asked. Didn't even think of himas a close friend, but he was happy to help once we
explained it wouldn't cost himanything, and we needed to rent the machine to do the
work. I did his daughter's resume for free ($35.00 value) as a thank-you.

Told PatronDude to fuck off, but that cut me off fromHBFriendSis, and HBFriendMom,
so that was kinda stupid. Gonna game BOTH of themfromnow on, thanks to
PatronDude's little tantrum. He DESERVES to learn I'mfucking one of the women in
his house. Don't know if I'll ever pull that off, but I'll try right in front of his face.

What a fucking asshole.

Ray



307

This is classic trainwrecking, motivated by long-held resentment over my lifestyle,
and, perhaps, progress with his sister, who had no choice but to remain neutral (and no credit-
card of her own). All I could do going forward was cut ties with him, game Le Club, and
rethink just how off-limits MomOfClubs really was, but that was more out of spite. What struck
me most about this was how meaningless the platitudes others give about how money doesnt
matter are complete bullshit.


The only way to prevent this type of trainwreck is to ask for assistance when you
dont need it, as a test, but thats deceptive. Invulnerability, to the extent one can build it, is
ideal, but we are mere mortals, and will stumble into crisis from time to time. The other option,
assuming the worst, does little good, since were going to reach out in all directions in true times
of need. PatronDudes contempt was misplaced, since I was just trying to make a living, and
needed the Mac rental to complete a large job, all at no cost to him. Not only could he not be
bothered, he seemed almost gleeful to be fucking me over.

Marilyn Monroe said it perfectly:

If you cant handle me at my worst, you dont deserve me at my best.

No one needs fair-weather friends. The problem is, we tend to unmask them only after
a trainwreck, and dont test their true colors until failing that test causes one.

The lasting impact of PatronDudes little ego-boosting tirade is that I really, truly
dont give a shit about what he thinks of anything I have written about him, his mother, or his
sister, and it would not surprise me if he were to go public and start outing what he thinks he
knows about me or my love life, though the reader should understand why he might have been
kept in the dark about a few things. Then again, he didnt read me very well financially, either,
because our problem was more that we didnt have a credit-card, than the money for the rental
(which was cheap). Finally, he, of all people, should understand my need to look after
number-one (no one else will), and that means putting business above friendship, though ours
terminated here. He may even have thought the pharmaceutical-grade types in his domicile
agreed with his view of me as a bum, but y guess is, if they did, it was just to keep the peace,
as Clubs do so expertly, and this was also why I didnt hold PatronDudes outburst against them,
since they had to live with him, and not with me.

Because he couldnt just pretend to be poor, thanks to having done the opposite to
impress me when I was playing chess, PatronDude had no choice but to display contempt, to
justify refusing my request for assistance. This was the last straw in four years of two-faced
behavior I had seen since leaving Manhattan. I began thinking back to how many people I had


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helped in the past, how much money is still owed to me, that I will never see (well over
$10,000.00), and how PatronDude, or others, would have treated me, were I still living in my
luxury apartment. Considering that some of the greatest cons in the world have involved phony
relatives of wealthy families claiming temporary financial distress (wounded lion game), I knew.
No one is surprised by this, butt 1) those who are wealthy, never have to rely on others, and
wont ask for the help, while 2) those who are not wealthy, are not expected to ever become
wealthy (again, in my case), so there is no perceived consequence for refusing, or even
dismissing someone who makes the request, since this is cheaper than actually pitching in for
someone perceived as beneath the trainwrecker.

PatronDudes family was very financially sound, but it was obviously a top priority
with them. MomOfClubs married a man who became very successful, and built her own career,
while PatronDude always had a good job doing something, and still does. I had misread their
desire to have a serious chessplayer in the house, with a general respect for humanity, not
realizing I was once again privileged, even if I had earned it by playing. With CEOCousin, the
reverse had occurred, where I gained respect by taking up chess, and by teaching his gifted
daughter, so I knew there was a quid pro quo, but this ambush was unexpected, particularly
since I was asking for help only so I could earn a lot of money.

The key lesson here, one the reader should not ignore if hes smart, is not to give
credit to those who are nice to us, since they usually have ulterior motives. As many
pharmaceutical-grade women know, strings are almost always attached to kindness, or it is
conditional, in this case predicated on my training at chess, and, probably, hitting some hidden
timetables for improvement. You may think those around you are friends, or relatives upon
whom you can count in a crisis, but odds are you cannot. I can assure you, if I ever become
privileged again (I intend to), I will, no doubt, hear this one: I would have helped you, if only
Id known.

Thats the trainwreckers escape hatch: dismiss those in crisis, and pretend you would
have helped someone else who was in crisis, once the crisis has passed. Ive done this a few
times, and its never failed, that even then, the trainwrecker assumes I still need the help. The
man who thinks all the new people who enter his life when things turn around wouldnt walk out
if things turned bad again, is deluding himself, but this too is understandable, since the truth is so
fugly. The Emo kiddies have a field day with text like this, attempting to pin the blame on me,
for expecting too much from others, or for having issues when dealing with new people, but
youre better off at least testing others with nothing at stake, unless you have a thing for rude
awakenings. My views arent much different than those on polygraphs; too many liars abuse our
trust for me to ever advise risking betrayal, sometimes with survival at stake.

Report-Forty-Six-Lifestyle-Rift-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Twenty-Three:
Project Manhattan II And Back

Sometimes, ferality, lifestyle integration, and Manhattan proximity do not pay off. In
late October, 1990, after winning $1,800.00+in a dream weekend at the Turf Club, from the
$42.00 left over from my paycheck that Mom hadnt deployed towards the bills, I took a job as a
floating secretary at one of the largest lawfirms in the city, at a higher pay rate ($11.00/hour),
across the street from the Turf Club, for maximum lifestyle integration. Immediately after
PatronDudes self-reliance lecture, I secured the Mac rental for the freelance gig, won
$2,100.00+on Friday and Saturday combined, then lost back $300.00 on Sunday, elected to keep
my temp gig at Temple Hospital, but then bailed on that, for a chance to gain that all-important
legal experience, so I could eventually become a full-fledged legal secretary, the end of my
chosen profession with the best salary and benefits, and the best working conditions.

In one short month, all of this would crash, sending me back to Manhattan, of all
places. I hadnt realized that legal experience was just a pretext used by attorneys, to weed out
anyone they didnt want to hire (i.e., not an RHC+). For good measure, the best way to get that
experience is after high-school, working part-time, but the firms would place those jobs through
all-girl Catholic Schools. As with the OTL, this target-class saw nothing wrong with the
beauty premium, as it was a lifeline for many RHC+types, who would otherwise have to turn to
adult-entertainment, hired-gun retail, or golddigging. Hiring for looks was never an issue, as
long as the boss didnt touch, and even then, the target was often a Diamond, which meant the
only ones who would object, werent hired in the first place, a standing few white men ever get
very far by taking in lawsuits, so I was fucked.

By late 1990, my horseplaying ROI had returned to 1986 levels, while Mom had been
all but making her living betting, thanks to several four-figure jackpots. What I had envisioned
when I left NYRA behind for the mid-Atlantic tracks had become a reality at Philadelphia Park
and Penn National, and had suddenly become even more profitable, thanks to the opening of the
Center City Turf Club, at 17
th
and Market Streets, the new ground-zero for my lifestyle
integration. A successful spring at Garden State Park had completed my wardrobe, while
funding an entire summer of alpha isolation in a cheap sublet in my building ($160.00 a month
for a one-bedroom), during which I alternated between chess, and trainer studies, a favored
handicapping method of Steve Davidowitz, author of Betting Thoroughbreds. This enhanced
my ROI considerably, and led to our much-improved cash-flow situation, with Mom and I firing
on all cylinders once again. I suppose this alone made me alpha, because only an alpha
would persevere against all the trainwreckers pouncing on even a brief losing streak

Its pretty amazing how rapidly ones financial situation can improve, when they have
the right tools, the drive to improve, are willing to work almost every waking hour at making
money doing something or other, and are fortunate. Even chess had indirectly turned profitable
in the winter of 1989-1990, thanks to PowerBase, my application of the Elo chess-rating system
to making pointspreads for NCAA Division I basketball, an experiment which netted several


310
thousand dollars in its first season. Even more profitable was quitting chess, because it freed up
dozens of hours a week, which were now being deployed towards handicapping and betting, and
working regular hours, without any increase in my total workweek. I was still putting in eighty-
hour weeks, but was getting a great deal more in return than from chess, which wound up like
four years at Mindbuilding University, preparing me for life the way college was supposed to.

During what was originally intended as my final year at Harvard Law, I found myself
living the rather mundane existence of an office worker by day, and the exciting existence of a
professional gambler at night, with my L-III game spicing things up with the target-class
enough to score lays relatively easily. Even the falling-out with PatronDude worked to my
advantage, since it removed him from the equation with Le Club, who had finally gone legal,
and was the only remaining soulmate-target, one who had been cultivated very steadily over the
previous three years, by far my longest EL-II with anything not a PG, though not as intense as
the one with the OTL (nothing could be). Unlike the first Three Aces, however, I would not
commit any serious tactical errors, thus lending credence to the claim by PUAs that having
game never hurts, even with a soulmate-target. The best way to test this would have been to
reconnect with Kate or the OTL, but that wasnt happening, and they were six years older. My
post-VCABM results support this notion very clearly, however.

Le Club was an exceptional woman, one I was so certain I could one day marry, if I
wanted to, that I treated it more as a lifestyle decision, than something I needed to engineer by
doing anything more than asking, after seducing. This was not the OTL, or Kate, or even
SHBDancer, where I projected my love into an assumption that fate would bring us together;
with this Fourth Ace, it was a solid, years-long EL-II, during which the table was set for a logical
L-III escalation, a rare relationship sequence. I was no longer a sexually overpowered, women-
addicted sixteen year-old, a surprised eighteen year-old, or a complacent twenty-one year-old,
but an experienced twenty-three year-old, who was more than capable of taking the lead, with a
soulmate-target who appeared willing to be led. How much of this was a factor in how live this
Fourth Ace was, is how much one needs to game their soulmate-targets. Were I as clueless as
I was with the first pair of Aces, I doubt Id ever have gotten anywhere near this far with the
Fourth.

The Winter Of Twenty-Four

The Summer of Twenty-One had been such a success, that when WaiterDude offered
me a room in his two-bedroom, rent-controlled apartment, in exchange for paying the $350.00
(total) rent, I figured I could construct a nice lifestyle game, especially with my knowledge of the
upper east side. I could work high-paying temp gigs, play tournaments, bet horses, and work
PowerBase every evening. Even though I foolishly surrendered an indefinite position at Temple
Hospital, in which I could probably still be working, if I had chosen, I had not lost any time,
because I went straight to the lawfirm, and then straight to Manhattan. What I didnt have was
an in-house groupie, or an $18.00/hour job, neither of which would prove forthcoming. I did,
however, have a place to stay, and managed a $12.00/hour gig for a word-processing service, one


311
much like Moms, where I learned a great deal about modern equipment and software. This
time, the beauty premium would do me in, something about which the target-class has never
cared.

While the OTL was raking in $50,000.00+annually, plus whatever her LimoDude du
jour would shower on her off the job, I was struggling just to survive in our hometown, in the
grips of a horrible recession, which made feral employment more challenging than ever, and
which rewarded the stable corporate hired-gun. Kate was working her way up in the fashion
world, and was actually mere blocks from my office, at 35
th
and Sixth, in a mixed
commercial/residential building. For all I know, we might even have crossed paths, though I was
hardly a walking DHV, if we had. I was just a regular Manahattanite, more Law & Order street-
witness than future CNBC perp, and found myself in a cold, rainy, overpriced jungle. I longed
for the target-rich UPenn campus, and the reasonably-priced center city, particularly its Turf
Club. I did attempt to stay in Manhattan for as long as possible, so I could enjoy my working
vacation. For its purpose, however, the trip was a complete bust, save for some lively
theoretical exchanges with WaiterDude, which gave birth to my recommendation in Foxes to
deploy wealth in the form of an extra Manhattan bedroom, an extremely powerful lifestyle tactic
not obvious at first blush.

As a mindbuilder, who always expects his future to outperform his past, I was more
excited about this go-around in Manhattan, than The Summer of Twenty-One, particularly since
this attempt had yet to fail. The recession, and my not having been active with several temp
agencies prior to my relocation, doomed me, until I used the trick I learned from Moms typists,
and began calling word-processing services out of the Yellow Pages, until one called back with
work when I was literally down to my last subway token. The gig was nice, and had me
walking to and from work many mornings and evenings, or spending time at some L-I venue
after work, though not very productively, due to my absence of alpha gimmicks, or even my
Wall Street, suit-and-tie gig for a DHV.

My game had gone completely to shit, an example of how living on auto-pilot, like
the typical AFC, is a complete gamekiller. During The Summer of Twenty-One, I was
somebody, in Manhattan for a purpose, even if I had not yet achieved my goal. Few ever do
reach the top, and it was the effort I was making that had the super-elites taking notice. Planting
myself in a tenement on the upper-east-side, working regular hours, and spending most of my
time at home, due to lack of TURD-money, was just a waste of space, time, and money. My rule
that a regular life attracts regular targets, to the extent it attracts any targets at all, had been
confirmed. The lifestyle wasnt bad, but required a lot of Emo game to neutralize, and that had
gone to shit as well.

Project Manhattan II may have been a failure, but I could have done worse than to
spend six weeks on the upper east side at a steep discount. Doing so did leave me in a precarious
financial condition, and my return to Philadelphia found an equally hostile job market, though
one I managed to crack, thanks to my bread-and-butter temp-agency, the one who discriminated


312
against me in favor of hired-guns, but who always found me work, usually with middle-aged UG
clients. This was my survival mechanism, which would come in the form of a $10.00/hour
assignment at Temple University, for two male professors, working only five-and-a-half hours a
day, while the OTL was banking $1,000.00+/week as a corporate hired-gun, for the very men she
wanted gaming her. To her, this is divine order, including displacing men like me, or even
women like Mom, to the tune of costing us six-figures annually, combined. I guess the OTL
never planned to have children, because she didnt, and because this isnt exactly a world one
would like to have to explain to a child if they did have one.

The logical question is this:

If the beauty premium is so wrong, why doesnt anyone fight against it?

Pretty women are outraged outraged, I tell ya at being objectified, yet every civil-
rights law we have does not include looks-discrimination, while our courts have refused to make
the obvious coupling with sexual-harassment and discrimination, not just against me, but against
people you might actually care about, like older, ugly, and less-attractive women, or males. The
doctrine of romantic favoritism has not held sway in any case, except in one California state
court, and has been explicitly rejected by many other courts, even if it would stop sexual
harassment in its tracks. Like the phantom jerk problem that RHC+types dont want fixed,
this is yet another, where people pretend to be against it, while thinking he just doesnt get it,
when all he is doing is proving that the other side doesnt get a hella lot more. Now to
answer the question:

1. Women need the jobs; and
2. Men need the women

That this trainwrecked my chess career mattered to no one, and some idiot even tried
to tell me that at age thirty I could still make that dream come true, as a means of minimizing my
claims of injustice. Materially, this was Armageddon, since anywhere from 50-75 percent of
what should have been my paycheck, every week, was stolen from my pocket, as surely as if by a
thief. I was supposed to vacate the profession, and find a mans job, or just find one job,
take the lower pay, and shut up, but I believe in America, and I also believe in truthseeking.
Although the motivation was always obvious, anytime employers are willing to not hire the best-
qualified worker, and risk lawsuits, over a secretarial job, something much greater, in this case
sex, is the driving force, since powerful men dont fight over triviality. What caught them so off-
guard about me was that they never had to fight this fight before.

The advice and taunts I would get (the latter was usually less brutal) over how to fix
a problem caused by women-addicted bosses, as if I could have changed David Letterman, was
downright insulting, and stupid, but only to disguise evil, as if often done:



313
1. Get over it. Meaning change nothing other than my feelings about what
was going on. Thats fine, but it didnt make Letterman any less of a
predator, and I had grown up being told that as a white male, I had a duty to
fight discrimination. I didnt realize that those who invoked the D-word
never applied it to white males, even in secretarial work.

2. Sell your computer. Internet advice from 1994, during one of my leaner
months. This one stuck, because my computer (paid for), and its internet
connection ($19.95 a month), were hardly offsetting the loss of five-figures
a year in income.

3. Fix your attitude and stop troublemaking. This one came in an investment
chat from 1996, when I thought warning investors that the companies in
which they were investing were corrupt, and therefore inefficient (the
trainwreckers used to gleefully claim that companies couldnt afford to
discriminate, or theyd go broke), and that Wall Street was filled with
corrupt sexual-harassers who wouldnt think twice about fucking them
over. In addition to the above, most of the chatters endorsed the corruption,
saying theyd fired people for whistleblowing, and that they had no ethical
issues with Wall Street. I hope these people are enjoying their retirement in
whichever homeless shelter their 401(k) can still afford. In 1994, I went
online as a female secretary looking for work, and was repeatedly asked if I
could take dicktation, while getting way too many legitimate offers,
particularly from attorneys, who tend to settle Title VII claims under the
table rather than establish a pattern by allowing themselves to be sued.

4. Work for a gay male. I would tell these folks to keep trying to fix their
dad/husband/brother up with another guy, because I didnt swing that way.

5. FIND ANOTHER PROFESSION. Hope the office whores like seduction
guru. As a man who has spent years working as a secretary, I used to
laugh when men who didnt, claimed I didnt understand women.

Similar advice to oppressed females would have been met with anything up to and
including a meat cleaver to the middle of the forehead. Between this, PatronDudes self-reliance
rant, and the two-faced nature of people, as particularly evidenced by my privilege, and how I
was treated then, I began appreciating my ferality, because the whole concept of relationships is
just opportunism. These mythical exceptional people who make everything okay do not exist.
If they did, theyd have stepped forward long before it got to the point where I was losing my
home in Manhattan, this time for the second time. I had built a life in Philadelphia, so 1991
wasnt as traumatic as 1986, but the injustice was just as bad. Dreams can only be killed once,
so I wasnt going to repeatedly grieve over the damage done to my chessplaying, or anything


314
else, and I had made the best out of a bad situation, but in no way did that justify my having to
endure it, nor did what others had to endure justify it.

Beyond my personal injustice, what does it say about people that theyd break the law
so easily, stand down while others do it, or lie about it in court? (Thats perjury, which is a
felony)? The answer is: almost everyone. Thats what happens in a corrupt society, where those
in power exclude those who dont play along, and people are too scared to take a stand,
particularly for someone they perceive as of no use to them. I think back to when I left college,
and what would have happened if Kate, or HBHalloween, had been my girlfriend, and cant say
theyd have behaved any differently, though Kate would have acted like a teammate, as would
have the other three Aces (thats why they were soulmate-targets), including the OTL, though
she wouldnt have changed her own views. For the trainwreckers, however, if you do choose to
ignore what Ive written, you can expect the following in your relationships:

1. Someone who is practically honest, meaning they wont lie to you unless
they have to, i.e., to protect their reputation, or hide something from you
they really dont want you finding out, which can be anything.

2. Someone who will love youuntil something better comes along, or until
you deteriorate past the point where she considers leaving to be addition by
subtraction.

3. Someone who will turn against you, once they no longer have any use for
you, or if they ever decide you have wronged them, i.e., they wont fight
fair. They will also badmouth you, on sites like dontdatehimgirl.com.
Since they lack ethics, they wont hesitate to manufacture some false
allegations, which the courts will believe, if she decides she needs to get
out of the relationship and needs you to be the one at fault.

4. Someone who believes that civil-rights violations, apathy, retaliation
against whistleblowers (including silence or lying under oath), are
acceptable, particularly against troublemakers.

5. S/he will explain to your daughter why things are the way they are, and
leave the world intact for her, so your male buddies can sexually harass her
when she goes to work for one of them.

I could list many more, but its all the same theme: I should seek relationships with
people who lack ethics, and will be judged by how pretty my girlfriend or wife is, which is fine,
since civil-rights laws dont apply to the bedroom, but that is irrelevant, if Im stuck in that
bedroom with someone whose ethics arent pristine.



315
Of the Four Aces, only the OTL did not measure up to my objective ethical standards,
yet she is technically ethical, because she was honest about her beliefs, and, had she known what
was going on with me, might have actually done something, even in an EL-II. I cannot know for
sure, however, due to our ages when we knew each other, and reactions from later targets do not
bode well for that belief. By contrast, the other Aces have pristine ethics, to the point where
they would go out of their way to do the right thing, to the extent they could, even at their own
expense. That activists manifesto is romantic, but the own expense part shouldnt be ignored,
since it can get expensive to fight for justice in a world so lacking in it. What usually happens
with activism is this:

1. People in power, convincing
2. People who arent in power,
3. To fight for those with no power.

Its similar to the way billionaires go on television urging regular folks to give, when
thats really their job. Until someone has enough on which to retire, they cant even be sure they
wont need the money down the road. Those who sought charity from my family during its
wealthier days sure as hell never came by to pitch in when we were down. One reason Mom and
I remained close, aside from never knowing who would win big next, and not wanting to cut
ourselves out of a jackpot, was that when we needed to cut expenses, even by living together, we
took care of business.

In the final analysis, however, consider this dialogue:

OTL: Why do you do this to yourself, Ray? You know things wont
change. Just find another profession! Youre no fun to be around
like this, and youd make more money!

ME: I could, but then I might wind up married to someone like you. How
else would I ever have gotten to see your true colors?

This is not to say I wanted to be discriminated against, because I was just looking for a
career other than horseplaying (the one viable solution, and the one that offended the
trainwreckers), but I sure as hell didnt want to run from a line of work which was obviously an
ideal fit, if one removed perversion from the equation. Initially, my activism was sparked by
what I saw being done to the females, like in the movie 9 to 5, but when I started losing the
ability to live and work where I wanted, while the victims were living in buildings like the one
in which I grew up, I began to question the concept of one-way civil-rights. One would think
that feminists would have sided with me, as an example of what men should be, but to them, I
was a man, to minorities, I was white, and to white males, I was a traitor. On top of this, I was
suffering materially, and sexually, due to the existence of Diamonds, but also with the other three
suits, since it still takes money to establish proximity, and maintain an interesting life.



316
Later, as the internet took over, I would often get into it with males or females about
this obvious discrimination, yet people felt compelled to attack me at every turn, as if every
female were a corporate hired-gun, or as if every man were fucking one. I think what got the
ones who made noise was knowing that their lovers were going off to work every day, possibly
facing this same environment, and would not admit it even if they were. Even when I had proof
of discrimination and harassment, with verifiable job offers given to my female online persona
(Mom and I had done a few similar experiments that confirmed this), I was told it was my fault
for entrapping the employers, when all I would do was post an AOL profile, and hang out in
regular chats, when I would get the IMs.

As for how the target-class operates, the following posting sequence sums it up better
than I ever could:

Post #1: Ray, you are a LOSER that NO ONE WOULD hire because of his
ATTITUDE! Thank GOD I married a REAL MAN who doesnt
whine, and would never consider such a shitty profession. You
DESERVE what you get!

Post #2: <Five years later> HELP! I want to DIE! My husband of FIFTEEN
YEARS just walked out of our marriage for his SECRETARY!

Cry me a river, and choose your soulmates very carefully. Everyone wont give a
fuck that you chose a toxic target, like a legal secretary, for a girlfriend or wife, and you might
be very happy, until she turns into PatronDude on you, except in your bed, rather than on the
other end of a phone you can easily hang up, and with your finances completely intertwined. All
lays are not created equal. Unless you wish to admit to yourself, here and now, that you expect,
and are prepared for, what I write about here to materialize, take a look at where your target is
getting her money from. If her boss wouldnt hire a man for her job, you can be pretty sure why
s/he (yes, s/he) hired her. One thing I did learn from my gender-bending AOL experiment was
that receptionists were almost two-thirds bisexual, even more than normal for AOL, and not
surprising, since receptionists usually report to a female office manager, or secretary.

I can be thankful now that I did not build that ideal Manhattan lifestyle, because my
ferality would have crumbled in a heartbeat, and I would have wound up with someone like the
OTL, in a nice apartment, where everything that now defines me would have perished in the
name of marital bliss (Im assuming marriage to that one special hookup). My life would have
been easier, but by no means better, since I would have remained permanently ignorant. By
confronting this evil head-on, I made as much headway as I could, but I also learned, over time,
how to work around the problem, after which many would say that its great I did so, yet I have
no one to thank for this but myself, and all those fine folks who would have helped.



317
My Return To Philadelphia

Feral sort that I was, I packed up and left Manhattan in February, landed a temp gig at
Temple, scored a second, part-time job at a center-city trade school, which was in the process of
moving next door, and left myself an hour a day for horseplaying during my pitstop at the Turf
Club. The Temple gig ended, and the trade-school gig morphed into a permanent retail gig, with
Mom taking over my part-time gig, followed by my quitting that, and beginning my search for
permanent work, in early June, 1991. Mom and I did well with the horses while we were
working at the trade-school, and she continued there for another year after I left. On Memorial
Day, on our breaks, we scored a $1,200.00+win that cleared our bills, and kept me going until
mid-June, when everything dried up at once. I took a third-shift, data-entry gig at $8.50 an hour,
for a local bank, but walked out into the warm, summer overnight, during lunch, knowing
there had to be something better out there. It turned out there was.

My First Real Job

In late June, 1991, at the end of my financial rope, I received a call from
AccountantDude, the owner of a small, center-city CPA firm. He wanted me to come in for an
interview that afternoon, a Friday, the first day of the World Open festival. I scooted down, was
offered the job at the end of the interview, and accepted a starting salary of $18,500.00, for hours
of 9:00-5:30, which I didnt like, and a compulsory hour lunch, preferably from noon-1:00 p.m.,
which I definitely didnt like, since it cut the third at Philadelphia Park from my betting radar.
What I did like, enough to blow off an interview with a public-interest attorney three days later,
for what would have been a job Id still have now, was that the office was at 18
th
and Market,
one block from the Turf Club, which meant I could augment my paycheck through horseplaying,
with a steady bankroll to ensure I wouldnt be tapping out for more than a week, and my
infrastructure costs covered, unlike 1986.

The job itself was fine, and ensured my lifetime employment if I wanted it. I was
the only secretary, in a position which had turned over fourteen times in the previous six years,
with more skill than they were accustomed to having, and no desire to quit (initially). It was my
employment bootcamp, a means of putting a year of stability on my resume, during a deep
recession, when even temp gigs were difficult to land. At worst, I would get another job in July,
1992, but I had no plans to do so, particularly as long as I was winning. To the extent I had
overcome the beauty premium, it was only by virtue of the skill premium. Females with similar
skills to my own, at this point, would be hired instantly, promoted rapidly, and begged to stay if
they even thought about quitting. Im sure the OTL could write an amazing text about all this,
but wont be holding my breath, since thats how she believes the world should work, and since
confronting why I wasnt hired, would have meant confronting why she was.

The Temple gig turned out to be in an empty office, because the Department was on
its annual field-trip, followed by spring break. This got me back to training at chess, even
awakening at 2:00 a.m., so I could train when freshest. Money had stabilized, but my ferality


318
caused the brief panic, until I got the CPA-firm job. At a World Open warmup on the evening I
was hired, I had no desire to play, forfeited my final tournament game, and would never again
play, though I visited a few events in recent years, to purchase equipment and books. I could no
longer see the point in spending so much time on something so unprofitable, and the Samford
Fellowship was about to slip through my grasp, anyway. The chess persona was officially dead.

In its own, odd way, the regular job was feral in that I had never held one down
before, at least not one I intended to keep. Inspired by J ackie Robinsons promise to Branch
Rickey not to be uppity for a full year, I had even resolved to take everything this firm could
throw at me, just to prove I could work anywhere, a truly feral objective. The recession made
the timing for this new adventure perfect, and I would indeed by tested by every minor indignity
my evil bosses those bastards who paid me could conjure, like lunch at noon instead of
12:30, working until 5:30 p.m. instead of 5:00 p.m., having no formal sicktime because no one
else could work the computer, and giving me a brand of English usage that today I would charge
extra for, as a foreign language. Taking this shit was not beta, but job security, since it was
why the turnover rate was so high. It was a bare bones secretarial job, but also excellent
training, and, as it turned out, an excellent example of how income is only one ingredient in total
compensation.

The next several field reports reflect my time in Project Manhattan II, and for the
following four months back in Philadelphia, where I was mixing sports betting, horseplaying,
temp gigs, chess, and some coffeehouse L-I game, due to the minddigger-rich nature of the
increasingly popular venue. My favorite exchange in one came when I was playing one of those
intellectual snobs from UPenn, in front of his girlfriend:

HIM: You cant castle.

ME: Why not?

HIM: Youve already been in check.

ME: So? Just like a rook can be castled with if its moved through a force,
a king that hasnt moved can castle as well. Wish I had my official
rulebook.

I used to carry The Official Rules of Chess for just such situations, particularly since I
played money-games, and didnt always know the rulebook myself:

HIM: Thats the rule.

ME: Fine. I play tournaments, but I guess I dont know.



319
I castle by hand, moving the king to f2, the rook to f1, and then dropping his
majesty on g1, before slaughtering him:

HIM: I suck at chess, but Im pretty sure that you havent been playing in
tournaments for years.

As he storms out, I add:

ME: <to small crowd> I can say Im pretty sure that he sucks at chess.

It shouldnt have shocked him that I had spent equivalent time on my informal
education, than he on his formal one. My tournament experience had me ruling the citys
coffeehouse chess circuit, save for a few tournament stragglers in center-city. My status was
similar to that of poet or musician, legitimized by my having been a serious tournament player,
with a strong rating, for empirical cred. Between Kate and CEOCousins reaction to the idea of
me as a professional chessplayer, I knew the persona was money, and this was its next evolution,
one which had me as something more than just a typical chess degenerate, a definite threat to
those who dont quit by twenty-five or so. To this day, I get congratulated on having the good
sense to quit play at such an early age. Socially, however, chess was an awesome networking
device, since even CEOCousin couldnt just dial up a master-strength coach (okay, he could),
nor could the patrons at the local coffeehouse ever get to play many bona-fide tournament
players, particularly those willing to play down, play at full strength (my way of promoting the
game), and not play for stakes. This was deliberate, part of my desire to bring a complete,
genuine chess experience to the undeserving masses. Its a Club thing.

Sodini Watch

L.A. Fitness mass-murder/suicide gunman George Sodini reported, on his internet
blog, having last had sex in mid-1990, shortly after I completely dominated HBPhD. He was
around thirty back then, near his lifetime peak, or where I found myself in 1997, when my results
began declining. Since Sodinis peak was the occasional lay from an RHC/NHB/whatever, its
not surprising he crapped out beginning in 1990, despite a rather enviable lifestyle, one which
would include home ownership, a high-income job (especially for Pittsburgh), and a nest-egg of
$225,000.00, or a hundred-fifty Spitzers, one a super-elite could easily have depleted within two
years, given the street value of women. For as financially stable as Sodini may have appeared,
he was dependent on working most of the time, and banking most of his extra money, which left
him with shit for Emo game, and results which reflected this. Meanwhile, I had been living from
unstable paycheck to unstable paycheck (something the OTL would never have to do, secondary
to the beauty premium) and attracting some of the hottest women on the planet.

This is not a minor issue, particularly in an era of internet flaming and lack of privacy,
like the one that allowed a single trainwrecker to out the fact that I was domiciled with Mom (I
would reside in many places), and usually shared an apartment with her, much as one would with


320
a roommate, but, as they say in politics, explaining is losing, so I wasnt about to attempt to
qualify my lifestyle to anyone, especially since, like my budding relationship with Le Club, it
was no one elses business. All the standard insults hurled against my lifestyle, were based on
my not living like.George Sodini.

The Sodini Question can be asked of all of us, even in reverse:

Would it have been easier for Sodini to get Emo game, or for an Emo PUA to
match his lifestyle?

What makes Emo PUAs so dangerous is that money is often the only thing they lack,
and is much easier to acquire than Emo game, which is usually built over years, if not decades.
The target-classs Emo needs also trump its financial needs, with the loser stripper boyfriend
the obvious extreme, one which demonstrates that money is not necessary for seduction; indeed,
only one thing is truly necessary, and it sure aint cash, though some may have given it that
name.

Lifestyle game has severely diminishing returns, particularly when one must trade
time and labor to acquire it. Even when broke, my ability to win jackpots would often leave
me with more TURD-money than men earning double or triple my regular income. With lower
expenses, I was actually the one saving money, such that a single win of $1,800.00+would
yield 100 percent TURD-money, or around three Spitzers in 1990, while my AFC rival with
the $35,000.00 salary, and six-figure nest-egg, would be stuck in his office, with his money
disappearing rapidly the moment hed find any serious time to spend it. He might get rich by
the time hes too old to do the things I did to build my Emo game in my youth, but better-late-
than-never applies there as well.

If you find yourself in George Sodinis position at forty-seven, i.e., well-off, but
utterly clueless, there is a way to improve your Emo game, but using a guru is not
recommended, for the same reasons it didnt work for Sodini. Older men have difficulty with
patience, which is why it helps to get the VCABM out of the way as early as possible. If Sodini
were to take this text literally, and begin a reborn VCABM at forty-seven, he would still be
only fifty-two at his Battle of Kate, if he were to follow my timetable (say by using just
enough of his money to equalize his L-I weaknesses). This would be theoretically correct, but
could get in the way of lays. Steeles approach of teaching him to act alpha is dubious,
because theres no guidance on what happens next, and shooting up a fitness center isnt much of
a DHV. Of course, when your guru bans you from friending your target-simulator (one of
the t-babes) on MySpace, and his advice hasnt gotten you laid, you might feel alone in the
world.

Though I had begun Volume I, and written about the need for genuine,
pharmaceutical-grade target-practice, rather than target-simulators, Sodini personifies this need
in a way I never could have, or would have wanted to. I would have touched on the subject in


321
Foxes, and definitely in 29 Reasons, had I known that one day there would be things like the t-
babes, or bootcamp pivots. The problem is that, since he never squared off against the OTL,
Kate, or anything close to a true super-elite, he never overcame his women-addiction. With his
brain compromised, he lacked the necessities to differentiate between a bootcamp setting with
a hired-gun RHC, and The Battle of Kate, or my visit to McCools. The mere existence of
bootcamp pivots is bad enough, since the target-class is cashing in on the community of men
who are told not to spend money trying to get laid!! To Sodini, the t-babes were amazing
amazing, hed have told ya because his women-addiction had overloaded his poorly-developed
mind. This raised one last question, based on what I had noticed, near the end of 1990, just
when things were starting to look up:

Why was I happier than people with much greater wealth?

The Winter of Twenty-Four was not a complete failure. I had some success with the
target-class, spent an evening at PhysicsDudes, when locked out of WaiterDudes (he wasnt
there, and we hadnt talked in a few years), and just lived in my old neighborhood, in many ways
enjoying it more than in my palace, which harpoons the notion that being positive is such a
plus with the target-class, unless, of course, one is that way while living in luxury. If one takes
sex off the table, the trip was a moderate success, since treading water in Manhattan is making
it by most standards, but I had too many roots for that to be the case. Returning home, instead
of leaving it, was a big plus, just as the lack of preparatory steps, like registering with temp
agencies, hurt me on my way up.

Lesson-Twenty-Three-Project-Manhattan-II-And-Back-(Full-Text)


322
Field Report Forty-Seven:
Regaming Le Club

The Fourth Ace was not going to suffer her brothers sins. Or maybe she was:

DATE: J anuary 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: Declined A Date w/HBFriendSis
NOW PLAYING: Justify My Love, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Bills Roll Through AFC

PatronDude calls me up a few weeks ago to see how things are going for me. Remained
distant and civil, told himthings were "fine," and let himwormhis way back, slightly,
into my life, just enough so I could game his sister again. It worked, since he didn't
really think he did anything wrong, and that's cool. Big tournament near hima month
later, and it'll be nice to be able to stay near there.

Call up HBFriendSis (she's eighteen now) a few days after that (asked for PatronDude
but he's not there thank god), and we get to talking. I tell her about how I moved back to
Manhattan, this time rooming with a childhood friend (WaiterDude), on the upper east
side. She doesn't know it's a rent-controlled, sixth-floor walkup, but the location is
great. Kinda nice to live in the old neighborhood, but it's not the DHV my old building
was. Now I see why I was doing so well with SHBStore.

We talk for a while, and then make plans to hang out last Saturday, my day off froman
in-house word-processing gig for a service that I got just as I ran out of money. Shit pay
($12.00 an hour), but enough to stay in town, though not enough to have any fun. She
agrees to spend Saturday with me, which is cool. Even have a place to fuck her if he
gets to that, now that she's (finally) LEGAL everywhere! Unfortunately, the weather is
shit Friday, with the forecast for more shit on Saturday (cold and rainy). I got like
$20.00 to my name that I need to use to get to and from work and get lunch, so I couldn't
really afford to do anything with her. My roomis shit, no furniture, just a futon, and a
shitty living roomwith a shitty television.

I decide I don't want her seeing me this way so I cancel, even after she says:

"If you still want me to come up, I will."

Definitely wanted her to, but not like this.

Ray

p.s. don't eat out at expensive restaurants...ever! The staff hates the customers and
fucks with its food.


323


For as much as I wanted revenge on PatronDude, this was not the right time. With
no money, no weather, and one room in a shitty apartment, the experience would have been a bit
raw for Le Clubs privileged tastes. As an Ace of Clubs, she would have coped, and perhaps
even fucked me, but I chose to wait for better days.


Female readers who want to learn how to ensnare men in LTRs and marriages should
learn why this Fourth Ace said shed come up if I asked her to, and why she wouldnt have
cared about my living quarters. They should then read on, to see why not asking her was among
my bigger mistakes, no small feat when one is me.

Report-Forty-Seven-Regaming-Le-Club-(Full-Text)


324
Field Report Forty-Eight:
God Bless Chess Groupies

What Greenspan would later call an oasis of prosperity in a world of crisis:

DATE: February 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: SHBIndian Rocks My World
NOW PLAYING: Gonna Make You Sweat, by C&C Music Factory
IN THE NEWS: Giants Celebrate Super Bowl Win
TARGET CARD: Ace of Spades/Ace of Clubs

Fromdesperation to inspiration!

Only reason I GOT laid this time was I was sitting around with nothing to do and called
up SHBIndian, who I'd practically forgotten with all the shit going on trying to find
work and not having extra money. I call her up and ask if she wants to play that
chessgame, and she says sure. She's in midtown, just north of Port Authority, one of
those "emerging" areas that's not quite there yet.

I get there, she's wearing this GORGEOUS black slip, black fuck-me heels, very stylish.
Apartment is IMMACULATE, not like the shithole I'm sharing with WaiterDude. She
asks if I've eaten and I told her I got some Chinese mix-and-match buffet ($4.59 a pound
for whatever), to "prepare for the match." She pulls out the board and we get like
halfway through one game before the makeout. Then we say fuck it and the
talking/makeout continues, getting hotter and heavier. She talks about how much she
likes smart guys, and I say I like Indian women for the same reason (no lie, but her being
SHB sure helped).

I start in with the hand massage, then a backrub, then a makeshift full-body on her
couch/pullout bed (not yet pulled out), but I'mused to working on a table fromclass, or
my single bed in the sublet last year (PG-4), where they could lie down properly with
their arms extended. I do what I can and it works pretty well, shit it better after all that
money I paid for the course. She relaxes really nicely, I throw in some mild hypno, and
she's like:

HER: "Do you do yoga?"

ME: "No. Why?"

HER: "You sound like my yoga teacher with the relaxation."

ME: "Yeah, it's pretty standard stuff. I had yoga classes in third grade.
Upper east side thing."



325
Sex was almost MYSTICAL. She did some relaxation and hypnomassage type stuff
(amateur level tantra) that was AWESOME. Her eye contact, body and that melodic
Indian voice makes her like a natural born hypnoqueen. I spend the night then bail,
since I can't afford anything else.

Looks like she IS moving back to India, but not until August. Said to look her up
anytime I want another game. Think I will.

Ray


A mini-sorceress! And INDIAN!!
15
In horseplaying, they call it a trainer pattern:

1. Blown lay with soulmate-target
2. Alpha isolation
3. Class drop
4. Lay with RHC+

Though technically not a super-elite, Le Club was always treated as if she would
inevitably mature into one. Another good rule: if you want to fuck the mom, marry the
daughter. The converse is also true. This gave Le Club a much longer timetable for reaching
her peak.


Its easy to keep to task when one has no other tasks to keep.

She was leaving for India, I was leaving for Philadelphia, and Le Club had soulmate
potential. I was no longer the aspiring world champion this groupie craved, so I quit while I
was ahead, and while she was ahead, since I told myself she wanted the fantasy. After this, I
just waited to Escape From New York.

Report-Forty-Eight-God-Bless-Chess-Groupies-(Full-Text)

15
Various cultural stereotypes ascribe mystical abilities to Indians, be it in chess, hypnosis, or medicine (not to name
any names).


326
Field Report Forty-Nine:
Life Of The Tournament

I may have been done with chess, but you would never have known it from this
weekend:

DATE: February 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Win Some Chess, #/*close HBSpanish
NOW PLAYING: Policy of Truth, by Depeche Mode
IN THE NEWS: Iraqi Army Deserters Welcome Americans
TARGET CARD: Ace of Spades/Ace of Clubs

Had a cool weekend, except for coming down with the FLU on Monday. Idiot kid
fucking BREATHES directly on me with the flu, and his dad's a DOCTOR. #$)*#$)@*
child prodigies think they're being funny.

Before I got sick, I managed to win my only two games as fifth board on our team.
Called out checkmate in six in the hall (I said "Wow, I have mate in six!"), which is
apparently bad form, but it cracked up everyone who heard it, since that's what they used
to do in the 1800s. Chessgame is stronger than ever, but it should be.

Met HBSpanish (8.2) on Saturday. She's tagging along for family or something, was
bored out of her mind, and stuck to me like GLUE once we started talking. Major
isolation whenever I'mnot playing, worked some hand-massage kino, with some light
kissing, and I #closed her, but I was so fucking SICK by Monday I couldn't do anything
about it. Wouldn't call her a chess groupie, just a bored HB who took a liking to me.

Stayed with PatronDude, but that was fucked up. Left something important at his house,
that I had no cash to replace, and he's giving me major shit over it. Guess my chess
progress wasn't fast enough to stay in their good graces. HBFriendSis almost came up to
Manhattan when I was still there, so that's still cool. She also sent me back my shit.

Back to Philadelphia now to train for the World Open and find another job.

Ray


Le Club redeemed herself by returning my item, while PatronDude effectively
ended our friendship. Having gone from chess hopeful to chess bum in a few short years was
one more reason to quit, but the pair of victories said to keep the jury out until the summer.



327

Since PatronDude was also playing, it made sense to stay with his family, as I had
done for many other events. With chess keeping us busy all weekend, it was easy enough to
avoid any confrontations, plus we had a pretty strong history, so conflict was absent, until I
wanted my stuff back, and Le Club resolved that before it escalated. This would be my final
visit to his home.

Absolutely nothing was wrong with my chessgame. I was rated Class A, under 2000,
which meant I was still eligible for the big u2000 class prizes, which are the same as all other
class prizes, which is why the Class-A sections at big tournaments are loaded with talent. I was
much stronger than 2000 by this point, but was not going to lose my eligibility without a big win.
My rating stayed deflated naturally, because I was always playing to my weaknesses, rather than
my strengths, because I was timing my training to peak at age thirty-five. Had I simply
perfected my mediocrity, as Jeremy Silman put it in How To Reassess Your Chess, about the
only book that shows beginners how GMs think, in language they can understand (Silman was
only an IM).

The chessplayer I most feared turning into was Calvin Blocker. People might say
who?, but he was among the top fifty players in the United States for many years, able to crush
me and HustlerDude at heavy time-odds. He was thirty-one, rated 2520, and could earn a good
living teaching the game, but it was too stagnant, and not at all Kate-positive. Leaving
Manhattan meant leaving chess behind, mentally, which is why I let loose on the board here.
The result almost sucked me back into THE Game.

Report-Forty-Nine-Life-Of-The-Tournament-(Full-Text)


328
Field Report Fifty:
Seven Hours From Meet To Lay

Thats Mysterys timetable. SHBBartender took five. This was more like nine or ten:

DATE: April 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: Same-Day Lay w/NHBSculptor
NOW PLAYING: Baby Baby, by Amy Grant
IN THE NEWS: Bush Reelection Likely After Gulf War Victory
TARGET CARD: Ten of Spades

It seems persistence pays off!!

Met NHBSculptor (7.1) around 1:00 p.m. at the coffeehouse, where she rolled in with
the "furniture" (people whose lives are the coffeehouse). I give up my chess practice for
a game of cards, which lasts about an hour. The group slowly dissipates, leaving me in
semi-isolation with NHBScupltor, so I get to work, giving her all my attention, ramping
up the rapport, complimenting her, but doing some push-pull, so she'd reciprocate, and
did. She had to know in an hour or less that I wanted to fuck her, and spent the rest of
the day making up her mind.

It's pushing 5:00, so I go for a venue change, by inviting her to dinner and drinks at
Walsh's, which is open until 2:00, and where I won't have any AMOGs or other
obstacles. She accepts, and we walk over for our impromptu dinner-date. I isolate her
to "my table," the same one I shared with HBPhD, we order, then eat, dinner, with the
conversation intensifying. After dinner, she has wine, I have an iced tea (Long Island),
and I do the same hand-massage kino, with the same result. She's push-pulling a bit,
mostly due to reputation concerns, but it's obvious she's getting aroused. Around 11:30
or so we scoot out, as she invited me over to accept my offer of a massage. We walk
back to her place and the SMOOTHEST first kiss I ever had with a chick followed. J ust
completely natural. Fromthen on we're acting like a new couple, continuing the
makeout, walking slowly, with neither of us wanting to be anywhere else.

Get back to her place, I give her a massage (she's sitting with her back up against me so
mostly her temples), then hypnotize her a few times, she zones in and out, and at the end
of the night, we fuck. Then I spend the night, sleep really well, and return in the
morning (didn't want to walk home at 4:00 a.m. but got some LMR due to staying over
being serious). Went very well, and we'll see each other again. Not officially a couple,
but it's leaning that way.

Ray



329

Class drop: super-elites do not fall this way. Using the baseball analogy, this was
almost 30 mph slower than the similarly-seduced SHBBartender. Few men she was capable of
attracting had my L-III skillz, mostly because those who have them, would rarely have settled for
her. Even my B-game would have looked like A-game to her, with no LimoDudes or FunDudes
among my rival-class.


A flawless, results-oriented lay with a target I never would have considered, had I
remained target-oriented. Pretty much the story of a PUAs life of indiscriminate gluttony,
and the tendency to perform pretty fucking well once he gets going with a live target.

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Field Report Fifty-One:
Reversal Of Gender Roles

Shades of Poltergeist:

DATE: April 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: NHBSculptor Explodes After Movie Kino
NOW PLAYING: The Kissing Game, by Hi-Five
IN THE NEWS: S&L Crisis Drags On; RTC Waste Alleged

I don't think a woman has EVER found me sexier than my "girlfriend" did tonight. This
was nice, well-constructed, and perfect. A truly great date. Like that old Poltergeist
date with SHBLunch, kind of like an evolution, this time ending in a lay, but with
someone not as hot.

Stop by NHBSculptor's on the way back fromwork. Brief makeout, but she's busy
sculpting and her hands are all gooey like in that film. I ask her out to dinner and a
movie, and she says sure. I notice Reversal of Fortune is playing. The movie is based
on the Claus Von Bulow appeal of his murder conviction, a big story in Manhattan back
in the early 1980s. The story was great, so the filmfigured to be good, and it was Oscar-
nominated (thus re-released), so we went. I'mglad we did.

Knowing the story made me like an alpha for the film, so I could explain the plot to her
if she had questions, plus I got two hours of uninterrupted kino, this time with full
massage training. No way she could resist that, and as soon as we got out of the theater,
we hopped over to Independence Mall, found a secluded area with a bench (same
privacy as an office cubicle), had an INTENSE makeout for like a half-hour, then venue-
changed to my roof and did the deed.

All I'll say is if you think living with Momis a gamekiller, you don't have game. If she
wants to see your home before she fucks you, it's not you she's checking out, and watch
your money. I don't make enough to attract golddiggers, but if I did, I don't think I'd
bring themhome no matter where I lived. The South Philly HBs can have some thug
rob you while they're out with you, I see that in the papers a bit. Did take her "home"
and fucked her on my ROOF. We hang out up there a lot; it's really nice on a warm,
spring night

Guys: LEARN MASSAGE. I mean like take a real course. This shit is MONEY.

Ray



331

Think Paradise By The Dashboard Light, with the female as the aggressor. This
target was preheated for ninety minutes in the theater, with expert hand-massage and other kino,
and detonated upon leaving.


Almost eleven years after my first kiss, I finally had a clue. An unexpected quantum
leap was also looming, one which would upgrade my game from mad to sick. Props to
SHBLunch for the movie choice.

Discuss this chapter on our forum:):
Report-Fifty-One-Reversal-Of-Gender-Roles-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Fifty-Two:
AFC Orbiter Pulls A Challenger

I couldn't even get angry watching this Challenger blow up while orbiting:

DATE: May 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: Orbiter Crashes Booty Call w/NHBSculptor
NOW PLAYING: I Wanna Sex You Up, by Color Me Badd
IN THE NEWS: Bush Says Recession Ending; Public Skeptical

What a fucking CHODE!!!

OrbiterDude is a guy I've seen around the coffeehouse, and apparently he was waiting
for NHBSculptor and me to break up. I figured this out after this morning, and my
successful BOOTY CALL with NHBScupltor. Called her up around 9:30 this morning,
and we talk for like an hour. It's getting increasingly phone-sexy, so I suggest a visit,
and she agrees, after some token LMR. More LMR ensues in her room, but that fades
with kino, as the memories flood back (a weakness for all chicks it seems). We fuck,
and just as we're getting done...

<BLAM!>

Her door SLAMS open! It's OrbiterDude, with a PISSED look on his face, like he was
SEETHING for the last hour, couldn't take it anymore, and then exploded. He's acting
like he didn't know I was in there, but he had to. What else could he have been so mad
about? He looked almost SCARED for a second, and I didn't even do anything! I held a
simple frame: I belong here, dude, and YOU DO NOT. He says some bullshit to save
face and walks.

He's a NICE GUY and all (I know him), but that was so lame. Looks like I dashed
whatever stupid hope he's been nursing for this chick since before I met her, probably all
school year.

What a fucking dweeb. I'd show himthis group but he'd just put it down anyway, as if
his "method" was getting the results he wanted. At least I haven't done anything as
stupid as he did since that bar-meltdown thing with SHBFashion, or the "suicidal
gestures" with SHBStore. I'mnot the type to tell others to seek therapy, but he needs a
clue or a shrink really bad. J udging fromhis behavior today, he should start with the
clue.

Ray



333

This is why NHBs are so desperate to be properly gamed. Its also why AFCs
often find it difficult to ignore losers like OrbiterDude, because intimidation is about the only
antidote, and that can lead to fighting. The man who wants zero fights (even if he can fight) will
not bother calling OrbiterDude to task, and he seemed not to sweat me. I didnt sweat him,
because there was no point, but if this had been Kate or the OTL, my ethics would have been
tested, but either of those Aces would have ripped him a new one before Id even have had the
chance. SHBTakeout would have brutalized him herself. Young, physically fit women have
about 70-80 percent of the strength of similarly-situated men, particularly below competition
level, where women dont participate in large numbers, since men dont prefer the body-type.


Five years earlier, I was OrbiterDude, except I didnt barge into the rooms of my
targets, unannounced, precisely because I always feared this might happen. The look of anger
(not at me, at her) on his face should have creeped her out, but I had no fear of him, since I was
much larger, and working out regularly at the time (another reason I got laid more easily). I
wasnt better-looking at eighteen than at twenty-four, but I had a much larger target-class to
impress with my youth.

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Field Report Fifty-Three:
Raspberry Dutch Chocolate Cake

Supplication is double-edged. Men do it because they think it scores points:

DATE: J une 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU: PG-5 Loves Cake, Hates Roses
NOW PLAYING: I Wanna Sex You Up, by Color Me Badd
IN THE NEWS: Economy Worsens Despite ClaimRecession Is Over

Been hanging out a LOT with PG-5 the last month or so. Swiped a big Raspberry-
Chocolate cake fromwork and gave it to her, which she loved. Been going out "as
friends" a lot lately, so I upped the ante by sending a dozen red roses, without signing
my name. Put some lame shit on the card and figured out what I should have said only
after the fact, as usual. One day I'mgonna start finding the right thing to say when it
counts.

She calls me around 8:00 p.m., asking if I sent them, and I confessed. She tried to let me
down easy (for her, she's pretty blunt), and I tried not to be disappointed, but rejection
always stings. No difficulty remaining friends, and it's kind of good to set the boundary.
She doesn't freak out when guys want her, but she lets themknow she doesn't feel the
same way\. She said it wasn't me, I was nice, blah blah blah, but it's just how it is. (Ray)


Rumors of an impending endorsement deal between me and FTD are false. This was
but a formality, an attempt to exhaust all winning chances, and to run up the score on my Absolut
198.88-proof that the flower industry should be starved to death by men, via the refusal to send
flowers to any target, ever.


She was a huge David Bowie fan, which meant the card should have said this: I had
to like someone, so I picked on you. As Ive said before: flowers never work. These were sent
with no expectation of success, and I certainly wasnt disappointed. The jury, however, is still
out on the Raspberry Dutch Chocolate cake.

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Field Report Fifty-Four:
Six For Seventeen

A test, passed:

DATE: J une 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+++: Coffeehouse Craziness
NOW PLAYING: Unbelievable, by EMF
IN THE NEWS: Mayoral Race Still Up For Grabs

Tonight was a record: a spontaneous "dinner date," one makeout, kino with three
separate targets, and SIX #closes at the coffeehouse. I guess they call that a good night!
Best "Level I game" I ever ran, that's for sure. With each successful set, my confidence
built, and maybe they got the wrong idea about what me and HBDramaQueen (8.6) were
doing for the hour or so we spent at dinner.

Started a new practice of tipping $10.00 or $20.00 as "table rent" upon my arrival, not
really to "buy my rep" (though I'msure it helps), but because those poor souls make
minimumwage (and they're friends of mine), definitely not doing it for the money.
Want the place to stay in business and it's tough when everyone's hanging out and not
spending. NO ONE in there has money, like DelcoDude, a student at Delaware County
Community College, which must not have any hangouts, since a dozen or more of their
students driven down regularly, through Southwest Philadelphia, to get here. It's cool,
they're not like the Penn snobs, who also don't spend. Weird socio/political thing going
on there. I'mnot the most social guy but I get by, sticking with a few wings and the
chicks who like me. Not like these guys are that cool or they'd be in bars.

So I'mtalking with HBDramaQueen, and she looks and acts like SHBFashion, like she's
an SHBFashion wannabe, even the same age (eighteen) as when I met the original. She
mentions that she's starving, and I figure neither she nor anyone else in there can afford
to buy her food, so I invite her to tag along for dinner at this new diner between 39th and
40th on Walnut. Excellent choice: they have all the cool American dishes (wings,
shrimp, ribs, etc.), in a platter, so I get that, and she has one too. Downs it like she hasn't
eaten all day, which puts her in a GREAT mood. We linger over the meal, then head
back to the coffeehouse arm-in-arm. Like SHBFashion, she's not tied down, and I knew
not to hint to that, telling her I knew what she meant, and felt the same way, which
spiked her interest.

When we get back to the coffeehouse, it's J AMMED, with S/HBs all over the place. I
get a makeout and kino going with HBStoic (8.1), then a #close, then I just hit on
everything in the joint, get rejected about a dozen times, but wind up with four more
#closes, making me 6-for-17 on the evening. Not sure what to do with all those
numbers, since dating all of themwould get expensive fast.


336

Good to know I can cold approach when I have to.

Ray


The precursor to fire-at-will game, all the proof I needed to know I could engineer a
girlfriend on whim. My inner guru was beginning to emerge. This was such a DupliKate
evening, from the eerily similar target, to the unsustainable PUA front. My skillz were not
improved, just redirected towards easier prey.


Ferality strikes again: the observant PUA will try new things, and, over time, they
accumulate into an impressive body of knowledge and theory. This mini-CABM was a specific
test of results-oriented game, with the results giving the all-clear to pursue this new avenue.

Report-Fifty-Four-Six-For-Seventeen-(Full-Text)



337
Lesson Twenty-Four:
My First PUA Bootcamp

After a rather interesting first half of 1991, and the extreme winning that continued
from 1990, horseplaying became my primary alpha gimmick, with all lifestyle integration efforts
geared towards my only stable career, that of aspiring professional horseplayer, a unique
persona, though similar to that of daytrader, poker player, or generic hustler. Dad may have
given me a thirteen-year head start, but the rest was my initiative, and mine alone. I am very
grateful that Dad had the foresight to equip me with the handicapping skillz to treat the track
almost as a well, and always as an inexpensive form of entertainment, for whenever I want to
win twenty dollars, while losing twenty hours. Despite the apparent lifestyle switch, the
mindbuilding theme had not changed. Sticking to what I did well was logical, as this enabled
me to present as alpha to new targets.

Within a week of quitting chess, I was suddenly cashing a paycheck of $272.55 every
Friday morning, and wagering half of it on the afternoon card at Philadelphia Park, via the Turf
Club. Usually I would win, which meant an evening betting Penn National, and Saturday at
Philadelphia Park, plus whatever my bankroll allowed for Penn National on Saturday evening,
both tracks on Sunday afternoon, and, if things worked out, the Sunday evening harness cards
from The Meadows and Pocono Downs, two tracks I had actually been to, back in the summer of
1986, thanks to a friend of Boards, who found the central Pennsylvania tracks a perfect solution
to our boredom. At the Turf Club, I could wager on all Pennsylvania races, and an increasing
number of national simulcasts, thanks to the British bookies who had bought Philadelphia Park,
with the intention of converting its Turf Clubs into the worlds premier OTB parlor. I was even
able to wager on most NYRA races again, thus solving the problem from 1986.

On a game note, it was one Sunday evening, during the Meadows and Pocono
Downs simulcasts at the Turf Club, that I conversed with J ackie Wallace, mother of then-future
NBA star Rasheed, at the time fifteen years old, and exiled to North Carolina, because, as Jackie
put it, all the girls wont leave him alone. Rasheed would go on to father several children out
of wedlock, and win an NBA title for the badboy Detroit Pistons, over the heavily-favored
Lakers.

Game Over: Beyer Whores Out To The Red Queen

It was going to happen with or without Beyer, but the formal Red-Queening of the
Beyer Speed Figure (BSF) method occurred on April 1, 1992, the day the BSFs began appearing
in the DRF past-performances, thus causing the ROI for all speed-handicappers to immediately
plummet. My anticipation of this allowed me to cash in for the final two years, particularly in
the final six months of 1991, since I made sure not to miss a single day at the track. Combined
with my regular income, and Mom winning similar amounts, due to her using my figures
(another incentive to make them, as it prevented her from losing), cash was flowing more freely


338
than ever. Mom and I had become the opposite of compulsive gamblers, forgetting our wins,
and remembering the sting of the few times we would lose for more than a day or two.

The Handicapping Tournament

Readers should be aware that every lifestyle decision can have very serious, and very
indirect, consequences on your game. The Double Ex hammered that one home for me.
Quitting chess enabled me to earn a paycheck, which enabled me to cough up the $100.00 entry
fee for the 1991 Philadelphia Park handicapping tournament, with a $10,000.00 first prize. It
was like a World Open, with half the competitors, the same prize fund, and much better winning
chances. I entered on principle, did up the speed-figures, and paid Banned4Life to drive the
$2,000.00+Mom and I had rolled up in PhoneBet back home, while I remained at the track for
the entire card (see subsequent field report).

With profits rolling in regularly, I had no difficulty taking a shot at a quick-kill for the
tournament. I began with a $1,000.00 wager, my entire mythical contest bankroll, on
Greenflash, who won the first race by six lengths, at even-money ($4.00). Next up was a pair of
$1,000.00 show bets on two 6-1 shots, who each hit the board, and left me with $4,950.00, all of
which was then wagered on Boca Baby, the dominant 3-5 favorite. I ignored my intuition, did
not make a backup (or primary!) wager on 8-1 winner In The Aly, but did cash an exacta box,
and resumed my winning streak, after the tournament near-miss, one which had me much closer
to a big prize than any chess tournament, further confirmation that it was time to switch alpha
gimmicks.

My First PUA Bootcamp

TrustFundDude began as a wing, but quickly assumed the role of guru, in what
would become a summer-long bootcamp, with a formal structure similar to what one finds on the
market today, at a cost of thousands of dollars for a weekend spent learning obsolete theory,
some of which originated here. After seeing physical evidence of TrustFundDudes prowess, I
asked if he would teach me his game, in a format similar to chess lessons, i.e., post-mortems of
his past experiences, and our new experiences as wingmen. He jumped at the chance to help a
brother out.


339

Learning the truth about just how easily men like TrustFundDude get laid can lead to
contempt for the target-class, particularly its phantom prudence, and phantom selectivity, each of
which flew out the window with him. His success was scary, with few rejections or resistance,
and an open MLTR, without a primary, and a half-dozen or more secondarys, literally one for
every day of the week, and a high attrition rate. We would go out most days, then return to his
apartment in the evenings, for a post-mortem, and to listen to his flood of answering-machine
messages. TrustFundDude shared all of his tactics, which were pretty straightforward:

1. Hed calibrate his target, using body-language, and never approached a
mixed-set.

2. His opener was simple: Hey, how ya doin? His L-I skillz were strong
(esp. looks and grooming), so he usually had no difficulty opening.

3. Once opened, hed make fluff talk for five or ten minutes, never about
anything serious, and usually about the target, but never anything so
personal as to make her defensive.

4. After fluff talk, hed #close.

5. Once he got the #, hed call that day, when the iron was still hot. He was
adamant about the need for this

6. He would use the phone mostly to arrange meetings, since he had very little
time to talk, a subtle DHV unto itself. Once he had a Day2, it was game
over for the target.



340
By the time of my bootcamp, my gurus MLTR was already thriving, so he never
had to chase. The result was a nearly-infinite harem of live targets, empty-netters, and sure-
things, mostly RHC+, but few super-elites. Alphabet-soup targets, like HBPhD, were as easy for
him as for me, including an HBAttorney, who managed to last a month as his primary, and
NHBNurse, who claimed, unconvincingly, to have bypassed him. He had already tapped
SHBWharton (he remarked after realizing she was smiling at me when all three of our paths
crossed in the lobby once0, but that was practically a given.

To test our different approaches, we constructed an experiment, where we hit on the
same ten targets (SHBWharton not included), without the targets knowing we knew each other,
and compared notes. He won, 8-1-1, but the super-elite who wanted me, was the one he wanted,
thus proving his limitations, while another of the targets was PG-5, thus proving mine. Still
smarting from the rose debacle with PG-5, I fed TrustFundDude my target-intel, and he did the
rest. I told him where she worked, and that she was really into David Bowie. He elected to
stumble into her store (a DHV the way he did it), and use what I thought would be shot down as
a transparent, lame opener:

HIM: I bet I can guess your favorite rock star.

HER: Yeah? Who?

HIM: David Bowie.

HER: Oh my GOD! Howd you guess that?

HIM: You got that Bowie look.

From there he arranges a date at a center-city singles bar, which they close. He then
reveals she gave him her number, by slipping him a matchbook with it, and not telling him. He
could do no wrong, despite her supposed penchant for serious, intellectual types, her supposed
relationship-aversion, and busy schedule. Seeing her completely dismantled by a world-class
PUA was epiphanic. Im reminded of the time in 1985, when, at the Union Square OTB, a
cultural center unto itself, I conveyed to BowlingDude, the chess strength of the late, legendary
hustler, Vincent Vinnie Livermore (also at the OTB), by saying: he beats me the way I beat
you. I would last see Livermore at the 1991 World Open, just prior to his death from AIDS. He
snickered at a miniature I showed him that I had just won, as if proud that the park had
spawned a tournament win.



341
One night, upon arriving home from the Turf Club, I decided to test PG-5, by having
my guru call her.at 2:00 a.m. He awakened her, seemingly oblivious to his mistake, and
was not punished, beyond an admonition to call earlier in the future. This game finally ended
when I called her, heard some bullshit about how she wasnt hanging out these days, had him
call her twenty minutes later, only to have her arrive at his door before he hung up the phone.
Finally, I answered the phone the next time she called, to reveal the scam. Our EL-II terminated,
but it was obvious that I didnt really give a shit. I do suspect they fucked.

TrustFundDude was how I learned of the existence of my local stripclub, Wizzards
(38
th
and Chestnut). One evening, he brought two dancers home, leaving one in isolation with
me in the living room, without explanation. Unsure of why he had done this, I refrained from
escalation, figuring my job was to babysit the dancer, who quickly broke into tears, over my
rejection by omission. That she was left with me, as one might leave a pack of cigarettes
purchased on errand, was amusing. This was the second time I had discovered that strippers do
in fact go home with customers. BowlingDude, who had a much larger trust fund from an
inheritance, had married a stripper he met as a customer in her club, in Florida.

For whatever value the reader attributes to the community style bootcamp, I had
derived that value, and then some, from TrustFundDude. I would eventually return to my lone-
wolf game, but with a much stronger foundation, one which would enable the next quantum leap.
The beginner will be better off if he finds a strong wing on his own, and spends an extended time
in the field, practicing and learning, with the wings primary role to deliver live targets. A
proper bootcamp should be conducted one-on-one, by someone competent, and should ideally
last anywhere from a few months, to a year, or longer. The guru should also prove himself a
competent wing, as TrustFundDude more than had, particularly with the stripper. His single
failure in our comparative experiment also made me realize that the way to defeat him was not to
emulate him, which would effectively have moved the battle to his turf. This led to the creation
of CUPID, and my emphasis on pharmaceutical-grade minddiggers as the ideal target.

Lesson-Twenty-Four-My-First-PUA-Bootcamp-(Full-Text)


342
Field Report Fifty-Five:
Immaturity As Game

Part of being immature is not knowing all those things the older people know. Against
a Thirtysomething former SHB, this is a fatal weakness:

DATE: J uly 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Dinner Date w/NHBNurse; I was SHORT!
NOW PLAYING: You Belong To The City, by Glen Fry
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Continues To Rise As Consumer Confidence
Plummets

I should have learned fromthe 1988 National Chess Congress not to mix game with
something important, but NOOOOOOO....actually this turned out pretty well compared
to that, but that's not saying much.

Enter the Philadelphia Park handicapping tournament, with my "mythical" $1,000.00
bankroll. I decide to try to put away the tournament in the first few races, and, but I
crash and burn one bet away froma big win...so I'mfree to resume betting, with
NHBNurse due to arrive shortly. Family's up over two grand, and Banned4Life drove
me up here to get the cash, which I sent him home with to give to Mom. Left Mom
$270.00 to bet with, find out she slammed it down to $11.00 when I got home! FUCK!
That's how we win though: we bet aggressively with an edge.

So I get to dinner, let NHBNurse pick the place, figuring it'll be cheap. It wasn't.
Dinner was $59.00! Not THAT bad, but I only had $42.00! This KILLED my game
with NHBNurse because it reinforced my supposed "immaturity." Yeah, sure, like I
couldn't have just kept another $100.00 or whatever that I gave to Banned (he got paid
$50.00 for driving). So NHBNurse kicks in $17.00 towards the check, says its no big
deal, but obviously it is. After dinner, we isolate back to her place, while she's telling
me how much growing up I still have to do. Yeah, right, she's like all grown up and on
the way downhill, who is she to talk?

She has a NICE place though. Definitely beyond my means, but nursing pays really
well. She does the hard stuff: Pediatric ICU, so she's got her shit together. Tonight I
find out about her boyfriend, FortiesDude, a successful executive, makes about a
quarter-mil a year, another fucking RESUME. No wonder she's got me alone in her
apartment on a Saturday evening. We hang for another half-hour, then she drives me
home. I do a TOTAL FREEZOUT on the way back, mostly pissed that she's being so
shallow, not feeling like I failed anywhere. I notice her attitude start changing, and she
lightens up, gets me to be civil by basically admitting she finds me attractive and
interesting, but thinks we're incompatible, mostly socioeconomically.



343
We part on good terms, and she says to keep in touch. I probably will. She's got a nice
car for riding shotgun, dines well, and makes a decent date. J ust too sexually ambiguous
for me to take seriously, but too "attracted and interested" for me to dismiss.

Ray


My experienced opponent was toying with me, until she got a proper freezeout, after
which her respect for me increased, even if she was still unwilling to fuck me easily (I still
believe a lay was in there somewhere).


The freezeout is useful when you feel like youre being jerked around by a target you
believe is otherwise a decent woman. Much as I hate deploying it, it has always proven effective
when they conform to these rules. She had this one coming, and seemed to admire my PUA
skillz more than being offended by having her date turn into Ray Gorton.

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344
Field Report Fifty-Six:
Winging With A Top Gun

Much of this was already covered in the previous lesson::

DATE: August 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: Winging w/TrustFundDude (LONG)
NOW PLAYING: Unbelievable, by EMF
IN THE NEWS: Republicans In Mayoral Shambles After Rizzo Death
TARGET CARDS: Aces Wild

Found a WING! Man, this guy has SICK game! He's a GREAT GUY -- if he were a
chick, I'd fuck him myself, I tell ya -- and he gets laid more than any living male, I
think. You'd have to SEE this guy in action to believe it. He's great-looking, in perfect
shape, can open anything, anywhere, anytime, and he's INDEPENDENTLY
WEALTHY, though not as rich as he lets on. TrustFundDude (the wing) has a trust
fund, but he can't touch anything but the annual dividend, like twenty dimes a year, or
more than I make for doing NOTHING! He watches his money, but dishes out enough
of it at the right times to make it work for him.

Since I go to the Turf Club a lot, he's been tagging along, and gaming all the hottie
tellers and staff. He #closed two SHBs who work there, think he fucked one. We were
both gaming SHBWaitress (9.9), who looks like a recent Playboy Centerfold. She said
she's in college and on her way to law school. She seemed more into me than the other
targets we opened, so maybe I'll game this one, since she's on my "home turf." Don't
like to hit on the staff there since I bet so much and it would get in the way, but I'm
learning fromTrustFundDude and getting dragged into his sets, even there. The guy
NEVER stops running game.

TrustFundDude and I start comparing notes on ten targets that we would hit on
independently, and eight of them(including PG-5) wanted him. One fucked each of us
(SHBWharton), while the other (SHBWaitress) turned out to want me. TrustFundDude
decides he wants HER and winds up AMOGing me so neither of us can get her. Final
score: 8-1-1, in his favor, with himwanting my one more than me his eight.

I swear, every fucking DAY was like a damn YEAR with a regular guy. One day he's
going out to lay some chick, when ANOTHER one (hotter) calls himjust as he's leaving.
He changes plans, and blows off the first chick. The next day, we're hanging out, and
she calls back. She acts pissed about being stood up until she realizes he doesn't give a
fuck, and is like "so do you want to do something today?" Yeah, guys have to be real
NICE to keep them interested. What fucking BULLSHIT.

His opener is really simple: he's like "Hey, how ya doin?" If they talk, he #closes them,
and calls themTHAT DAY, figuring they'll just move on to another guy, and to strike


345
while the iron is hot. He forgets them even after he fucks them, so they wind up ignored
and desperate to talk to him. He's always gaming new targets so he never gets oneitis
except for SHBWaitress (of course). Been learning a TON fromwatching himand
winging. Like I learned there is a STRIPCLUB in my area. I learned this when he
brought two dancers home, took one into his room, and left the other one in the living
roomalone with me. Didn't figure out WHY he did that until she was crying and then it
was just awkward. Like he should have TOLD me that could happen and I would have
been prepared. If a stripper says she doesn't fuck customers, DO NOT BELIEVE HER.
He doesn't spend a lot there, but stretches it out long enough until he can game one into
coming home with him. Never been to a stripclub, never had the need. Real dancers are
hotter and dance better.

After a month or two this got old, but man what a way to learn game. Guess I'ma full-
fledged PUA now. I definitely feel like one. I even learned how to do cold openers
now. Now I gotta put all this into practice.

Ray


The stripper demonstrated my persistent cluelessness, which no level of game
seemed to preclude. Even the best PUAs have their blind spots, particularly when they know
another live target is always on the horizon. Along similar lines, around this time, I lost an
$82.00 voucher at the Turf Club, by leaving it in the automated machine. This caused a tilt, until
three days later, I won $270.00+on a ten-minute, midday break from work. The mistake was
secondary to my having worked all day, and then worked out for an hour in the gym, before
betting Penn National that evening.


Its safe to say that, with todays knowledge, Id have fucked the stripper, and
SHBWaitress, perhaps my gurus sick idea of a self-serving test. PG-5 would have been
difficult, but winning chances were definitely present.

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Field Report Fifty-Seven:
New Hope With An Old Target

My "bootcamp" left me hungry for a quality target, so the inevitable finally occurred:

DATE: August 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+: First Date w/HBFriendSis
NOW PLAYING: Touch Me, by Cathy Dennis
IN THE NEWS: Rizzo Death Makes Rendell Shoo-In For Mayor

Finally got around to a real date with HBFriendSis. We spent the afternoon in New
Hope, Pennsylvania, where NHBSculptor wanted me to take her. Very "ancient" town,
lots of power outages during storms. We settle into a nice cafe, and talk for about an
hour. Then we sightsee, check out the stores, and this quaint town that's become "hip"
recently. NHBNurse dragged me to dinner across the river in NJ , come to think of it, but
that was at night so I didn't get to enjoy the area. It's nice, but not my ideal date.

There was NO CHEMISTRY. It was like her family was involved, watching us. Like
this date had to establish us separate fromthem. Not sure there'll be another. Still glad I
went, since this had to happen sooner or later; better sooner.

No physicality, not even kino. We were like two boxers dancing around the ring in the
first round of a fight, neither wanting to throw the first punch. Phone rapport was better
than ever, so this was a bit of a surprise. She's off to college in the fall, so things might
get interesting. Ray


As I suspected would be the outcome, this date shook off her familys influence, since
we seemed determined to give them nothing about which to gossip. It was a nice date, but
expectations were shelved, lest we become the center of any drama.


This was a live sorceress. Caution should have been thrown to the wind as far back as
January. That she was still live was testimony to our uber-compatibility, and the strength of our
EL-II. A real date with Le Club will always score positively she was hot!

Report-Fifty-Seven-New-Hope-With-An-Old-Target-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Fifty-Eight:
Warning To Women: Avoid GAMBLERS!

A fascinating debate:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: SHBWaitress Smiles And Waves; SHBAmtrak Hates
Gamblers
NOW PLAYING: Good Vibrations, by Marky Mark And The Funky Bunch
IN THE NEWS: Cuomo Denies Candidacy, Mob Ties
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Diamonds/Ace Of Clubs

Guess my game is getting somewhere, if I'mcombining targets in my field reports.
Looks like TrustFundDude LIED to me about SHBWaitress. I think she's still into me
but she's staff so I said fuck it. Also wasn't sure if it was me or the new wardrobe i put
together in between the races at Philadelphia Park and Penn National.

Met SHBAmtrak (9.3) a while back on Amtrak to Manhattan for tournament. I give her
my copy of a paperback on Bobby Fischer, writing my contact info inside the front
cover. She calls me out of the blue "to return the book" (worth all of $0.25); turns out
she lives a few blocks frommy work, so I ask her to lunch, and she accepts. We have a
nice lunch at TGI Friday's on the Parkway (near 18th), but she turns her cheek to deflect
my goodbye kiss. No SHBLunch here unfortunately.

I call her up a few days later to ask her to lunch at the Turf Club. She said she was
unemployed and low on cash, so I offer to split my winnings with her, saying I'll bring
$50.00 to bet. Been winning like mad so I figure it might work out. She says her family
hates gamblers and wouldn't want her dating one. I say fine so I go myself. I wind up
winning $575.00 in the afternoon, spend EVERY cent of it over at Liberty Place on my
wardrobe (J . Crew shit), including a really nice pair of casual shoes ($125.00), some nice
shorts, and this GORGEOUS beige silk shirt. I throw the whole outfit together in the
mall, then wear it back into the Turf Club. SHBWaitress walks past me, almost doesn't
recognize me (I got a haircut too), and her jaw just DROPS. She smiles, waves, then
walks past. Absent all the drama (fishbowl, AMOG, etc.) I'd have SO closed her, but I
went back to bet the Penn National races, losing all night until I hit the last race for
another $550.00 win, giving me a profit of about a dime for the day. AWESOME!
Last-race winner was a 9-1 shot who got up by a NOSE. Kept $35.00 to bet with from
my afternoon win.

Back to work tomorrow. Shit. I hate this job but it's good to be working and
"corporate." Too bad SHBAmtrak didn't tag along. Would have been profitable for her.

Ray



348

Such a lovely foreshadowing of the current financial crisis, when targets like this often
wound up with ResumeDudes, who suddenly became Broke Men Walking, upon simultaneously
losing their jobs, homes, cars, nest-eggs, insurance cover, and the ability to discharge their
student loans in bankruptcy. The 1991 recession wasnt as bad, but it had its moments.


She wouldnt have had to find a reason not to fuck me, if she wasnt strongly
considering fucking me. Hers was classic Diamond behavior, and Id already seen the best that
suit has ever had to offer. Like Kate, the OTL had made me immune to cheap imitations of
perfection.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8467-Field-Report-Fifty-
Eight-Warning-To-Women-Avoid-GAMBLERS!-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Fifty-Nine:
Hot Chicks And Cold Trifectas

In The Winning Horseplayer, Beyer wrote that "hitting a trifecta is about as difficult
as making a hole-in-one in golf." I know this is no longer the case, though it may have been in
1982:

FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: LR: Hit Trifecta, Then Hit It (NHBWine)
NOW PLAYING: Set Adrift On Memory Bliss, by P.M. Dawn
IN THE NEWS: Bush Popularity Plummets As Recession Lingers

Laid NHBWine (7.8) today. She's like FORTY (my oldest), but still pretty hot, used to
be an SHB back in the day I'msure. She stands out at the Turf Club since she's like the
ONLY single female there, no company. I send her a glass of wine, then drop a trifecta
ticket next to it: $2.00 on 5-9-1, "cold" (they have to finish that way first, second, and
third). I hammer the race for over $50.00 on the same three horses, then disappear to
watch the race alone (so no cockblocking). Momhad been bugging me before the race
to ask what I liked, and I called out the same numbers, but said she wanted to "analyze"
it. I told her that was all the analysis she needed.

Five horse draws off, with the nine chasing him, and some horses I don't have in third. I
got the exacta easily, but I'mfixated on the monitor as the horses cross the wire:
Five...nine.....ONE!! Fucking one FLIES late to get third, getting me a $130.00 trifecta
four-and-a-half times, plus the exacta, a large win bet, and I make like a dime on the
race, then reopen NHBWine with "So how'd you do?" We left five minutes later. I paid
for dinner and the hotel, letting her shop with her winnings or whatever. Never had a
DHV like that in my life. Knew I'd be getting laid the second the one got up for third.

Ray


Maybe a dozen men reading this could pull off a seduction like this, which still
required an amazing amount of luck, but nowhere near as much as it appeared to NHBWine.



350

I never had the guts to risk this on SHBWaitress. Worse yet, the few times I came
close, the horses won. For what its worth now, PAP picks the cold trifecta approximately seven
percent of the time in certain situations, for a substantially profitable ROI. If I did the same thing
with win bets, it would be less dazzling when I won, but would nail about 60 percent winners
from my best bet of the day, at odds of around 8-5 ($5.20 for a $2.00 bet).

The reader is not likely to find this tactic anywhere else, or find much use for it, unless
he wishes to purchase the PAP sheets (advertised in the headers), safe in the knowledge that this
text will be completed by then, and no longer a distraction, yet another reason it was written first.

Discuss thi chapter here (click):
Report-Fifty-Nine-Hot-Chicks-And-Cold-Trifectas-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty:
Protector Of Loved Ones

My Captain Saveaho costume makes its debut:

DATE: November 1991
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR+++: Protector of SHBMed
NOW PLAYING: Black Or White, by Michael J ackson
IN THE NEWS: Dems In Disarray as Bush Solidifies Reelection Base

Finally DHVed SHBMed in a really strong way. Bet she wanted to fuck me tonight, but
she couldn't. She and ResumeDude are still living together, happy as can be. I'mnot
surprised at this, because there was no sign of SHBMed when I saw ResumeDude on
Walnut Street CRANKING HIS HEAD to ogle an SHB who was walking on the other
side of the street. Yeah, he'll stay loyal, but she's BOUGHT anyway, so she's getting
what she deserves. I kept my mouth shut; maybe she'll catch on before she marries the
loser, maybe not.

We're walking out of the Acme across the street (we had entered separately), when three
ThugDudes SURROUND us. We hadn't walked too far out of the store, so I take two
steps back, SHBMed follows, and just stand there, making it obvious we were being
targeted. They start taunting us, and my main concern is getting SHBMed out of danger
(AFC/chivalry thing, I know), so I walk back a few feet out, and say something to draw
their attention to me, like "why do you care how I walk home?" This works, since they
start thinking of an answer, something not easy with their IQ. While they're thinking, I
turn quickly to SHBMed, say "go," and she walks away quickly. Once she gets five
steps away she's fine, and just blends in. Then I walk back under the store entrance, the
thugs stand there and watch, realize they have no opening, and might get busted, so they
split.

This on top of SHBMed taunting me about my massage class for the last year, and
inviting me up to a LOUD party she was throwing, where she came out in this really hot
black dress. I know she fucking wants me, which makes it even more annoying.
ResumeDude is SO fucking lame. She could do so much better: ME!

Ray


I realized I was falling in love with this Fifth Ace after this close call. Wonder what
she was realizing about me. It was my honor to be able to offer such an intimate favor, even if
the payoff was never consummated. The look on her face told me all I would ever need to know.


352

Even today, if she told me with a straight face, that she did not want to fuck me that
night, I would laugh in that beautiful face, and say of course not. After all, she had a
boyfriend.

Discuss this chapter (click):
Report-Sixty-Protector-Of-Loved-Ones-(Full-Text)


353
Field Report Sixty-One:
Disqualified For Living With Mom

The stigma attached to adult males who live with their mothers comes from
somewhere:

DATE: November 1991
FROM: Ray (Age 24)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Negged by SHBDentist
NOW PLAYING: Smells Like Teen Spirit, by Nirvana
IN THE NEWS: Bush 3-1 Favorite To Win Reelection

OUCH!!

Run into SHBDentist on Walnut Street on my way to lunch, outside her new Rittenhouse
Square skyscraper. She's the one who gave me the stuffed animals that went to
HBSingleMom. I talked to her a few times in the building before, and she was nice, but
man what a BITCH!

After a few pleasantries, she hits me with this:

HER: "Don't you still live with your MOTHER!?"

At least she was blunt, just like SHBStore when she dropped the LimoDude bomb. Like
if I moved next door she would have fucked me -- ha, she probably would have, since
WHY ELSE WOULD SHE HAVE NOTICED?

They are ALWAYS checking us out. ALWAYS. Like a fucking MICROSCOPE.

Or a PROBE.

It was kind of funny that a chick who wore BRACES at age TWENTY-THREE would
be lecturing on me maturity.

Ray


She wanted ResumeDude. I always felt sorry for men who were getting laid because
of their careers, because I could never envision the sex being anything but a chore for the target.
The financial limitations of my chess lifestyle precluded this,



354

The decision to live at home or not should have nothing to do with seduction. If you
have the skillz, you dont need your own place, and if you dont, your own place wont help.
If you do have skillz and your own place, you wont want to risk the negative consequences of
having a target over to your place, even especially if you are living in luxury. The cost of
getting my own place way exceeded the few stray Diamonds I wasnt going to be fucking, even
with what was supposedly killing my chances.

Report-Sixty-One-Disqualified-For-Living-With-Mom(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Two:
Father Of The Club

Another strong movie choice:

DATE: December 1991
FROM: Ray (Age 24)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Second Date w/HBFriendSis!
NOW PLAYING: Chapel Of Love, by The Dixie Cups
IN THE NEWS: Cuomo Denies Presidential Bid

Things just got REALLY interesting with HBFriendSis, who is now 19. Spent ALL day
on an actual DATE with her, and it was GREAT! She drove us around (no car, big city,
she's where she has to have one), we stopped at a mall, then a nice restaurant for dinner,
and then a movie.

Learned froma mistake I made with NHBGroupie, when I chose Beetlejuice (lame
horror flick) over Crocodile Dundee II (chick flick). Didn't make that mistake this time:
we saw Father Of The Bride on its opening Saturday night. I'ma big fan of Steve
Martin, so I was looking forward to seeing himin a comedy-drama. Hadn't caught a
movie its first week out since...Poltergeist! This date was similar, except there was a
real chance of isolation. Theater kino was strong, and the movie was GREAT. Really
funny, even though the filmwas a remake. Very well done.

She drops me off at the train station, I tell her I'd love to take her out anytime, she's
ambiguous but that's how she always is. Finally I get something long overdue out of the
way:

ME: "Cheek or lips?"

HER: "You decide.

Lips. Nice kiss too.

Ray


Clubs have an amazing sense of duty to please men they want pleased, to the extent
they can. This Fourth Ace did not agree to a relationship, yet did not rule one out, which I found
very encouraging. The kiss was important, to begin a move out of the friend zone, even though I
didnt mind the EL-II at all.


356


For the first time in six years, I made the correct request, of the correct target. She just
said no to the relationship, but left me with a really nice date, and a decent goodbye kiss.

Report-Sixty-Two-Father-Of-The-Club-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Three:
The Girlfriend Experience

Conformism was the bitch, not she:

DATE: J anuary 1992
FROM: Ray (Age 25)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Whoopie I Got A Girlfriend
NOW PLAYING: Never Gonna Get It, by En Vogue
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Continues To Rise Despite Recovery

I have a HOT GIRLFRIEND! I ama WINNER now! HOORAY!

For those who don't know me, I'mbeing sarcastic.

Met SHBSeventeen (9.0) during a three-way conversation at a coffeehouse with
ScooterDude (he has one of those scooters he gets around on). He "scoots" out a few
minutes after I scooted in, which left us in isolation. Cynics can be quiet sixteen is legal
in Pennsylvania.

We start talking, and she's nursing her coffee like FOREVER. I hate paying for shit for
chicks, but I offer her a refill since it's pretty obvious she has no cash. Lives in a white-
trash area but she's classier than her neighbors; matter of time before she moves out. We
get to talking, I learn her mom's on disability, and she's trying to find work, but having a
difficult time. She's like a TROLLDIGGER, a golddigger trolling for a guy who'll spend
on her. Hasn't done well with the BOYS in her area, and is looking to improve herself,
but I can't blame her. She's like a poor version of SHBStore.

I start some hand-massage kino (told her about my massage training and she wanted a
sample), but break it off after like thirty seconds so I don't scare her away. There's like
NO resistance here, probably because I was dressed for work. I started feeling like
ResumeDude, and pictured SHBMed treating himthe way SHBSeventeen was treating
me. It's not exactly a fool's mate but it "Midas Welby." I #close her, kiss her on the
cheek (she's 17), and head home. Call her later that night, talk to her mom, and she
gives me her approval.

Hypnotized the shit out of her over the phone, but she was more resistant in person.

Ray

p.s. -- I sublet a MASSAGE STUDIO to give us some privacy, two Sundays a month.
Cost me all of like $40.00 for the two days. Worth every fucking cent!



358

Whoopie: I had a girlfriend. Four months later, I realized why I never did the
commitment thing, unless an Ace was on the table. I was a model boyfriend, pivoting my
SHBLunch redux all over the place, netting some makeouts in addition to the goodbye kisses,
and demonstrating what might have been with SHBDancer, a few years too late. I took her out
twice or thrice a week, to very nice places, and liked the boyfriend cred, yet other targets
beckoned, because a guy can spend only so much time in the kiddie pool, and ResumeDudes
method wasnt to my liking, even on this smaller scale. I escaped one evening at dinner, quite
rudely, but only to sever all ties. She got over me fast, had morphed into an excellent date, and
girlfriend, and wound up working as a hired-gun.


Better late than never on the massage studio, but it would have been nice to conquer
SHBDancer in there, or vice versa. That was definitely achievable.

Report-Sixty-Three-The-Girlfriend-Experience-(Full-Text)


359
Lesson Twenty-Five:
How To Get Hired In A Recession If Youre Unattractive

My political game was born in 1991, mostly due to the repeated discrimination I
would encounter, often blatantly, due to a much more hostile legal climate than even todays.
My feral employment, and sheer persistence, usually landed me somewhere, at a rate of around
$10.00 an hour, but I grew tired of this, which is why I attempted to reboot, as a permanent
employee, for the CPA firm. By July 1992, I had been seeking the exits, coming closest to
bailing out in April, for a solo-practitioner attorney, who wanted to explore my entrepreneurial
side, while paying me $8.00 an hour to get my much-needed legal experience. I passed. The
Beyer Armageddon had eliminated horseplaying as an alpha gimmick, but PowerBase had
emerged as a viable substitute, albeit for only five months a year. This left me free to work
anywhere in town, and attempt to return to college, which made UPenn my logical next
employer.

My decision to bail on the CPA firm was made by simple calculation that a
replacement job would not be that much of an economic hit, and that my income, while secure,
was never going to make me rich, absent an advantage at the track, which had disappeared, or a
replacement, which PowerBase was threatening to become. This left me to fend for myself on
the regular job market, and live within a regular budget, during regular hours. My results, not
surprisingly, were regular, particularly after I landed my second permanent job, this time at
UPenn, in a paper-pushing profit-center for its Medical Center. The title had more prestige
than the job, but the compensation package was embarrassing:

$22,000.00/year (8:00-5:00 hours)
PennCard (run of campus/transit)
Twelve sick days, accruing
Six personal days
Three floating holidays (MLK, etc.)
Two weeks of vacation after one year
Four weeks of vacation after three years
A special vacation from Christmas-New Years
Full medical, dental, and life insurance
Six free tuition credits per semester
Pension after five years, fully vested in twenty
Free tuition at Penn, or another school, for my kids.

The generous, universal benefit package minimized any income lost to discrimination.
The job switch was tantamount to a 50 percent raise, thanks to the benefits. The benefit
structure was designed for working mothers, so they wouldnt quit when their children entered
college. Mom could have put me through UPenn for free this way, but elected to work
independently.



360
The beauty premium had become pretty obvious, particularly at the citys lawfirms,
whose pedophilic hiring practices I outlined earlier, something the target-class didnt seem to
mind a bit, since wealthy attorneys were welcome suitors anyway, and they needed the
respectable income, which was substantial, particularly after a few years, where a $30,000.00+
base salary, generous benefits, taxis home at night, and loads of overtime, can make a millionaire
out of a financially-savvy legal-secretary before shes thirty. My gender precluded this, but the
occasional decent job, like the one at UPenn, would occasionally spit out. My primary defense
was still betting, but because my ROI was unprofitable, I was holding back. PowerBases 1991-
92 NCAA season was its first losing one ever, thanks to the Fab Five of Michigan repeatedly
confounding the methods distaste for freshman squads.

What caused me to look for the UPenn job was a week that included no raise on my
one-year anniversary, despite a hint to CPADude that it had been a good year, with the final
straw coming that Friday evening, at 6:30 p.m., when I was asked to insert a comma I had taken
out, because it didnt belong, only to be made to stay late to restore the foreign language (it
sure wasnt English). I considered this a sign of stagnation, fired up my resume blitz that
Monday, was interviewed Wednesday night by my supervisors supervisors assistant, and hired
that Friday morning by my supervisor. Ironically, I had beaten out a hundred-fifty applicants
because I knew the Paradox 3.5 database software, and most secretaries did not, while most
computer guys werent good secretaries. Unique skillz pay off in a recession.

Paradox seemed perfect for PowerBase, so I talked it up anytime I interviewed for a
job which required it, usually because the hiring manager liked Paradox as much as I did. That I
could get paid to learn a software that I could then use to build PowerBase was excellent lifestyle
integration, which I could enhance further by studying database management upon my return to
school, planned for the spring of 1993. I was even paying off my old college debt at $50.00 a
week, which would have cleared the debt in a little more than a year. For the fall, I decided to
try my hand at politics yet again, and wound up working at Clinton headquarters, every evening,
and with only every other Sunday off. The atmosphere was enthusiastic, since it was the first
time a Democrat was going to win in sixteen years. That spring, a commercial I had donated to
the Dems ran as a news item on Good Morning America, as a sign of the new aggression from
the left. It depicted a cocktail party, with a narrator:

The 1980s were a party, but only the rich were invitedthings were great until
their house-of-cards economy came crashing down.

A wine glass shattered on the floor to symbolize the recession. In the YouTube era, I
could have used it to build a portfolio (note: if anyone still has that commercial on video, and
can legally post it, please do so). The Clinton campaign would prove target-poor, save for the
very intriguing HBClinton (8.2), who turned out even more intriguing than I would imagine, and,
apparently, still single, perhaps due to the Ray Effect. I realized the strength of risk-free game,
which I had run on her, by walking her home one warm, fall evening, and doing nothing.
Nothing happened, and I felt like I might have been able to achieve L-III escalation, yet I had


361
taken no risks, while retaining some winning chances. Out of a hundred similar L-II escalation
situations, I would score the lay a small percentage of the time. Enterprising readers could
deploy this knowledge, perhaps by becoming a designated-driver at bars frequented by
SHBPrep-types.

UPenn was extremely target-rich, yet I shied away from its corporate hired-guns,
mostly to simplify my workplace, while I did not blend in with the students, particularly their all-
important drinking itinerary. Coffeehouses, and a modified version of the chess gimmick, had
become my weapon of choice, by 1992, with SHBSeventeens reputation-boost having a
significant long-term impact on my rep. A more subtle shift was my going from someone who
built his social-circle at the coffeehouse, or what I call furniture (this can be good and bad), to
one who uses it as a mere pitstop, like when I trotted SHBSeventeen in for a performance from
MusicDude, who had just missed a big-label contract, and settled for a successful career as an
indie producer and composer.

If Three Doors Close, Another Opens

Secretarial discrimination rules much of our world, as even David Letterman has
shown, due to its subtle impact on the workplace, our careers, and, as Big Media has let us know,
our relationships with those who work in offices, or other jobs, including the now-infamous VIP
hostesses. My Emo game became strong, because normal lifestyle channels were cut off,
making it almost impossible to remain in Manhattan, or in proximity to the worlds sexiest
women, something I had taken for granted as a teenager. UPenn was comparable, but different.
PowerBase, and my clinging for dear life to the few office jobs I could secure, became a
necessary way of life, my only hope at long-term prosperity. This didnt mean the OTL didnt
have it ten times easier, though Im sure she found some positive rationalization for this.

Had I never left UPenn, both my nest-egg and Emo game would have rivaled George
Sodinis. The man I am now would not exist, for my alpha gimmicks would have fallen by the
wayside, since what I do is very labor-intensive. To not do my own thing would have
compromised my ability to earn a living my way, and made me indirectly dependent on target-
approval, or even target-networking, to support the married lifestyle. This wipes out my L-III
game, and takes L-I and L-II along with it, since Id have remained out of practice for years, and
lacking my primary earning weapons. A mans game cannot help but atrophy in this situation,
which is why I was unquestionably Bettor Off Single.

What kept me out of office work, kept me in the running with super-elites, and led to
the lifetime devotion to seduction, as a means of overcoming my lack of lifestyle game. That, in
turn, led to Foxes and 29 Reasons, which helped to shape the community, of which this text is
now a part. I would much rather have led the boring life of an office grunt, but circumstances
forced my hand. That the public cares little about civil-rights violations against men, or the
beauty premium, which plants the seeds of sexual harassment, and causes the target-class to
bank, at the expense of all others, does not lessen its impact. The low salaries, and shitty


362
working conditions, which had become my norm, also left me rewarded for quitting a job, as
long as I could find an immediate replacement. At UPenn, this led to my getting paid to master
Paradox, which would set the table for computerizing PowerBase for the 1992-93 NCAA season.

I gave up the Clinton campaign when Perot reentered, but voted for Clinton, so as to
help ensure that Bush would not win. Clinton would eventually be caught having an affair with
his own corporate hired-gun, Monica Lewinsky, and while he never helped me find a secretarial
job, he did have Vernon Jordan offer her $45,000.00+a year as an administrative assistant at
several Manhattan firms, but Lewinsky turned them all down (its not clear if Letterman was one
of the offers). Rather than just sex, this scandal involved civil-rights violations that no one in
the country, particularly skintern-happy Washington, wanted to discuss, let alone remedy. This
is, as they say, the way the world is, and those who complain about it are generally thought
traitors, to be blacklisted, or whiners, to be ignored, and mock-pitied.

The recession ran its course, and recovery finally came, in the fourth quarter of 1992,
with 4.7 percent economic growth. My resume had two years of stability, enough for me to
return to feral employment. Mom took ill on Election Day, and would be hospitalized across the
street from my office in the Penn Tower Hotel, a fascinating mixed venue of offices and hotel
rooms, with the nicest corporate bathroom Ive ever had. Once the holidays passed, and Mom
had recovered, my vow to transfer, due to stagnation (I was told I couldnt transfer up to the
executive floor, with all-female support staff, after one month, which was incorrect; I should
have just quit to make myself eligible), had reasserted itself, and I began looking for a new
employment adventure in January 1993, the moment I became eligible. Getting hired is not
really that difficult if one is persistent, covers the basics (grooming, resume, punctuality, well-
spoken, well-written, easy to train, etc.), and knows where the work is, perhaps the most
underrated of all employment skillz.

With it comes to even the recreational use of pharmaceutical-grade targets, a man
must stand out in some form or other, or the target will slot him among her orbiters, forgetting
him the moment he loses proximity, while the PUA will embed memories of him in her brain,
until she is ready to fuck, which, according to the soaps, she will signal by lighting three zillion
candles in her bedroom, and inviting him over. The UPenn job was nice, but horseplaying and
PowerBase were my way out, and my way up, with finishing college a five-year backup option,
one I wasnt eager to exercise, even as I prepared to do so. My lifestyle game was improving,
but at the expense of the Emo strength I had built with the chess persona, and my winnings,
before Beyer and the Red Queen took care of my second income.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8947-Lesson-Twenty-Five-
How-To-Get-Hired-In-A-Recession-If-Youre-Unattractive(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Four:
The End Of PG-4 And The Massage Studio

I could have flipped a coin on this one:

DATE: August 1992
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FU+: I Flaked On PG-4!
NOW PLAYING: Baby Got Back, by Sir Mixalot
IN THE NEWS: Rising Unemployment Destroying Bush Reelection Prospects

I had a SURE THING and just CANCELLED IT!

Invited PG-4 to the massage studio for an all-day hypnomassage, and she accepted! No
LJ BF strings this time, either. I think she was ready to take it to the next level, since she
knew why I invited her.

So what do I do? I CHICKEN OUT! Sort of: I called her to cancel, because I didn't
want to deal with the emotional complexity. Plus she's "only" an NHB, but that's no
excuse since I wouldn't have minded fucking her.

Time to get rid of the studio, obviously. Working all the time now and don't have time
to use it, even if I could find someone to practice on. Ray

p.s. -- job's going okay, but the assistant to my supervisor's supervisor just quit, leaving
her job open and my SHBCoworker (9.3) doesn't want it, saying I should go for it.
No male secretaries on the entire floor, and I just got here, but I'd have applied
anyway if I weren't. Got an interview set up for next week.


I had become Kate. Such a bitch.


Inviting Le Club for one of them private relaxation sessions, for which the OTL is
now famous, is pretty obvious, in retrospect.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8948-Field-Report-Sixty-
Four-The-End-Of-PG-4-And-The-Massage-Studio-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Five:
That Giant Sucking Sound

When Ross Perot re-entered the presidential race in October, 1992, this "liberated" me
from my evening job, as I supported the third-party system:

DATE: J anuary 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Back After A Busy Fall
NOW PLAYING: I Got A Man, by Positive K Ft. MC-Lyte
IN THE NEWS: Clinton TeamHaving Difficulty Getting Security Clearance

Finally got some breathing room! Back to work after a snowstorm, a NINE-DAY
Christmas Vacation (picked up another temp paycheck on a three-day assignment due to
boredom), and Momhome fromthe hospital, so we've been readjusting. She's fine now
but it was scary: she got really sick Election Day.

Hate my job, but love working on campus. Who wouldn't? Check these out:

SHBEarrings (9.3) is married, but dresses really hot for work, flirts all the time,
and bought me lunch! Said she was thinking of starting up a typing service and
wanted to know what to charge LOL. Has one of those amazing bodies, really
curvy, great eyes, great skin. Mmmm. Nothing there but a great pivot.

SHBFoodCourt (9.8) is religious (born-again), works where I eat at in the Houston
Hall food court (where my business used to be), and joined me on a break a few
times during my meal. #closed her and she said to call whenever. Not the
brightest chick on the planet but who gives a shit?

SHBMed turned up across a table fromme at the McDonald's in CHOP late one
morning, and we talk for like fifteen minutes. She's surprised to see me working, I
get more IOIs, but she's moving with ResumeDude somewhere. I think they're
engaged or about to be. Wanted to make a move but didn't. Didn't tell her about
her man's roving eye (he was cranking his head at an SHB downtown on Walnut
last I saw him).

NHBTranscription (6.7) is forty, does medical transcription, and is into hypnosis
and massage. Might have her visit the studio to work on me! Lunched with her
several times. Has a boyfriend but doesn't seemtoo into him. Concerned about
her being too old for me she said once.

SHBLibrary (9.7) was studying in the main library when I was copying some
books for my boss, she didn't want to study, and I dragged out the copying long
enough to #close. She graduates in J une.


365

Had lunch with SHBCoworker, but she's my "peer" secretary, and off-limits. Fired
up a pack of Lloyd's ribs, which she LOVED. She's a heartbreaker with like a
dozen guys coming by the office regularly LOL, and more call during the day.
Very private about specifics, but lots of general ideas on relationships. We spar a
lot. Sex would ruin the emotional thing and make for job drama. She likes my
ambition but she's got it made here a lot more than I ever will. Her boss is SO cool
and she said she'd have trouble working for mine (but she wouldn't).

SHBNurseBetty (9.8) and SHBNurseVeronica (9.2) look like their namesakes,
with the former dressing really elegant, and the latter really slutty. Former one
tries to hide how hot she is but she can't. The latter thinks she's that hot but it's just
noise. They work on another floor but I see them in the elevators a lot. Damn.
Don't think they're into secretaries much.

HBPennTower (8.1) is a waitress in the hotel restaurant in the lobby, who lives a
block fromme. #closed her easily, and hang out with her at her place sometimes,
along with her "party posse." Anytime I want a party on a weekend I just head
over there and there's always a nice crowd. Like the Central Park posse in high
school kinda.

SHBCrewcut (9.5) has a crewcut, with a perfect body underneath. All this PC shit
says we can't talk about it so I don't know what her deal is. She's ambitious as hell,
total power-chick, but polite when we talk.

HBFriendSis is at a big university now, She calls me to thank me (for a birthday
card), tells me she's lonely, doesn't know too many people there, so I send a
holiday card with a letter telling her not to worry, and that it's easier to keep people
out of your life than to get the wrong people out, so it's okay to be a loner. She
eats that up and we're flirting stronger than ever.

Don't know what the fuck to do with these targets, but I'msure I'll figure something out.


The reader should be able to identify the easy lay.


No changes, since I wound up stumbling on the correct move, almost by accident, but
mostly by process of elimination. Which door had the car, and why? Answer correctly, and you
can call yourself a PUA with my blessing.

Report-Sixty-Five-That-Giant-Sucking-Sound-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Six:
Mixed Signals

Mo' skillz/mo guilt:

DATE: February 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Two-Hour Dinner With NHBComputer
NOW PLAYING: I Have Nothing, by Whitney Houston
IN THE NEWS: Cowboys Crush Bills In Super Bowl

Met a nice geeky chick at the computer store! NHBComputer (7.7) is very cute, with a
nice body, and (surprise!) HAS A BOYFRIEND, IraqDude, a classic "AFC" who knows
he's out of his league, and in over his head. I met the guy, and we "get along" but I'm
sure he's not thrilled to see me talking to his chick. The store is on the way home from
work, and she gets off at 6:00 p.m., so it's easy to chat her up for a few when I stop in.
Been shopping for a new machine (won about two grand on hoops with a 24-6
Saturday), but she doesn't know that yet. Bought a few peripherals and software but
nothing big, and she knows I'd buy there anyway, so that's not why we wound up at
dinner, and definitely not for two hours (we lingered).

She tells me about her relationship, and how her guy had a bad time in the war, she
wants to make the relationship work (bad sign since if it's working she'd never say that),
and I could tell she felt trapped. She was definitely probing me as a potential boyfriend,
and I came across decently, but I'mambiguous about an LTR with her and I think she
sensed that. Looks like she's gonna stay with her guy for the time being. Think she's
afraid he'll get depressed if she leaves and doesn't want the guilt. Kind of fucked up
situation, but I'mnot gonna let another guy GUILT TRIP me out of a lay or a good
girlfriend, which she is.


She was mine for the taking, but destroying a wounded boyfriend is not pleasant, and
hardly risk-free, since he was not going to be replacing her easily, a nasty thing for any sex-
addicted male to endure, even a nice one. He would lose her eventually, to the UPS driver,
whose child she would bear.


I liked the way this turned out. It scores as one date, a very lively few hours, almost
as intense as the cafeteria-date with Kate, and pads the individual stats for this text. Discuss this
chapter here: http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8952-Bettor-Off-Single-
Field-Report-Sixty-Six-Mixed-Signals-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Sixty-Seven:
Hypnotrolling

These days, the cure for male addiction to sexy hypnosis is easily found on the
internet, but 1993 was a much different story:

DATE: February 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Hypnotic Exploration w/HBFriendSis
NOW PLAYING: Black Magic Woman, by Santana
IN THE NEWS: Clinton Inaugurated As Nation Hopes

Well, things finally got interesting with HBFriendSis. Been talking on the phone with
her a few months, and somehow got to talking about hypnosis. I used the words "sexual
trance" to describe something (I forget what), and just lit up:

HER: "Mmmsexual TRANCE? That sounds NICE!" <her voice perked up a
lot>

ME: "So you like relaxation. I think I saw a cassette on your nightstand
once. Tried it out it was pretty cool. I have several tapes."

Having slept in her bed (without her there) before helped!

HER: "Yeah, I use it once in a while. Never thought of it as sexy though.
That's interesting."

ME: "Very. I play around with it a lot actually. Lots of women like being
hypnotized."

HER: "That would kinda freak me out. I'd rather learn more about doing it."

Holy shit.

ME: "I'd be happy to teach you and see what you can do to me with it, if you
promise not to fuck with my head too much."

HER: "So what do you want me to say?"

ME: "I dunno. Is that the only tape you have? Ever take a yoga class?"

HER: "Yeah. My mom got me into this stuff."



368
ME: "Really. Let's see. Try to sound like your yoga teacher, but use words
like what's on the relaxation cassette."

HER: "Okay." <sorceress emerges for ten seconds>

ME: "Hold on a second, my call-waiting just went off."

HER: "Okay."

We get back and just talk about other shit, but she's got SKILL for this. Now I want to
hook up with her like BAD. She can hypnotize me next time we hang out.

Ray


Phone-hypno would have been cheesy. I wanted the real thing.


As if I were going to do better than an Ace of Clubs sorceress. Hypnosis transcends
its medium, so its an excellent long-distance L-III gimmick. Here, a woman with whom I was
contemplating marriage began performing it over the phone on me, and I cut her off, yet another
hall-of-fame error. I should at least have let her know it was working really well, to awaken her
inner sorceress. On the other hand, my willingness to abort, and then change the subject, did
make me seem less creepy and perverted, and more willing to roll with the punches, both of
which increased the odds of a live performance.

Report-Sixty-Seven-Hypnotrolling-(Full-Text)



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Field Report Sixty-Eight:
Target-Calibration Pays Off Huge

Now for the answer to the earlier question:

DATE: J anuary 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Way to SHBFoodCourt's Heart Is Her Stomach!
NOW PLAYING: Informer, by Snow
IN THE NEWS: Post Office Prints Record 300 Million Elvis Stamps

GUYS!! PAY ATTENTION! IMPORTANT INFO!!!!

If you find she is doing whatever you tell her, ESCALATE!!!! I did this and went from
saying hi to SHBFoodCourt at her job after work, to walking around campus, to dinner,
then to fucking her at her place, all in TWO HOURS!!!

Been talking to SHBFoodCourt a bit lately, to cut down on the phone bills (HBFriendSis
is getting expensive). She lives in southwest Philadelphia (near the airport), a quick trip
on the #11 trolley that runs on Elmwood. Rode back with her so I saved the cabfare, but
it was SCARY coming back at night. Shitty area but not bad for low rent. She doesn't
give a shit about money just likes being happy, and I made her happy. Think she's broke
too because she hadn't eaten and it's Thursday. Bought her an early dinner at
Cavanaughs after she protested a little, then thanked me after she filled up, saying she
didn't realize how hungry she was. Obviously didn't have a guy in her life or he'd be
doing what I did. She's too fucking hot to be living like this. If she weren't so ditzy I
might keep her around, because she's got a PERFECT fucking body. I mean like right
out of Playboy. Didn't have to do much once we isolated at her place. Just gave her a
tiny backrub and it was like setting off a pack of dynamite. She tranced easily, and
deeply. Completely, in fact. Why are the SHBs always the nicest ones? Ray


Her job was the tell. No rich boyfriends or hired-gun jobs.


Give credit where credit is due: ferality, with a lot of interim improvement
interspersed over the years. Just being single at my age played the biggest role.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?8955-Field-Report-Sixty-
Eight-Target-Calibration-Pays-Off-Huge-(Full-Text)


370
Field Report Seventy:
A Mitochondrial Mess

If only I had my current knowledge of mitochondrial DNA. This was a most
fascinating application of a most fascinating seduction theory:

DATE: March 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Mindfucked by HBFriendMom
NOW PLAYING: Runaway Train, by Soul Asylum
IN THE NEWS: Michigan Fab Five Favored In March Madness

Okay, this just got FREAKY. As in TALKSHOW FREAKY.

Called up HBFriendSis on Friday, but she wasn't home. She's on spring break, and
wasn't at school. HBFriendMomanswers instead, and we get into a LONG chat, not
characteristic of her at all. We hadn't talked in like forever so we catch up on all kinds
of stuff. She knows I want to fuck her daughter but never says shit. HBFriendSis has
mentioned she knew we've dated, which means her brother also knows. That creeps me
out too, but nothing like this (in a good way!).

Some BIG games tomorrow: got $400.00 on Michigan at 6-1 to win it all, and got them
playing Cincinnati in the Finals. They came back from 25 down to beat UCLA thanks to
a missed dunk at the end, and everyone else is holding up. If everything breaks right I
can win six dimes ($6k), and four dimes if Michigan wins it all. Fucking AWESOME
BABY!! J ust need NC to lose tomorrow or next week and I'mgood. Got nothing to do
the night before so that's why I called HBFriendSis, who wasn't home. So her momand
I get to talking, and I tell her I'mall stressed out about the tournament. That set the
long-overdue hypnotrolling in motion:

HER: I use relaxation techniques in my work all the time. Also use them
myself. Great for reducing stress! (translation: I can hypnotize the
shit out of you).

ME: I find that stuff fascinating, like anything involving the mind. I
definitely believe in it. Do you have a lot of experience with that stuff?
(Please hypnotize the shit out of me.)

HER: You should definitely try it sometime. (I might hypnotize the shit out
of you, but you're gonna have to beg me for it).

ME: Been meaning to. Can you give me some pointers? (Please hypnotize
the shit out of me).



371
HER: Well you just need to EMPTY YOUR MIND and FOCUS....(get ready,
I'm gonna hypnotize the shit out of you).

TWENTY SECONDS later, I couldn't move. A minute later, she had me in the deepest
trance of my life. Never felt anything like it. She's like the sexiest fucking thing that
ever lived, but I don't think I can have her. I just want her daughter to learn how to do
that. Ray


Hypnotrolling at its finest! Le Sorceress decided to give me a sample of what I
already knew she was capable of inflicting, and Ill be forever thankful. In retrospect, her
existence is not inexplicable, just extremely Ray-positive, which is why she so easily enslaved a
half-her-age Ace, one in front of whom she had once dangled herself, so tantalizingly. Sexy is
not a term that does this woman justice; what she could have done to me, had she chosen, is
beyond freaky. Her lifetime accumulation of L-III skillz was the most impressive I had ever
seen, and her well-preserved physicality made her a literally perfect package, even into her mid-
fifties.


Social boundaries are too strong an influence on most. They should have been
nonexistent here. Im more convinced now than before, though not totally, that the 1989 visit
was a potential booty call. That I was on a crash-course to possibly marry her daughter
complicated things a great deal more. I took the easy way out, by gaming Le Club, but I never
had a reason to say no to this woman, except when I had done so, very foolishly, by omission.
Even here, I didnt really follow up, when I kind of wish I had. She just had more of what I
wanted than any target I had ever encountered. Had she not been my road mom, I wouldnt
have thought twice about exhausting all winning chances, but caved so badly to the social
pressure, that I didnt even realize I was caving.

Sorceresses are an acquired taste, and dont lend themselves to advice to GFTOS (go
fuck ten other sorceresses), because they arent that easy to find, let alone fuck. The Ace of
Clubs is unique in that she is the only good sorceress, who will use her powers to reward what
she perceives to be genuinely worthy men, while the other suits will either reward bad behavior,
punish good behavior, or reward those who make them feel good. The Club stands alone in
giving that complete, genuine experience to her prey, while her rivals merely tease. Fortunately,
the Ace-of-Clubs sorceress is a type, though very rare, and the only one Id now consider
marrying. I have identified exactly four of them, wanted to fuck three, marry two, and had the
option with one, but was too busy being a PUA to exercise my good sense.

Report-Seventy-A-Mitochondrial-Mess-(Full-Text)


372
Field Report Seventy-One:
Love And Basketball II

The phone hypnosis from MomOfClubs had an interesting impact on my confidence:

DATE: March 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: LR: ONS w/NHBJ eff
NOW PLAYING: Freak Me, by Silk
IN THE NEWS: Top Seeds Dominate NCAAs
TARGET CARD: Ten of Diamonds

NHBJ eff (6.9) is a nurse at J efferson that I scored an ONS with last night, without even
trying. Slept REALLY late today (being hypnotized by the best will do that), got up
around 10:30 p.m., headed over to Murph's to catch the basketball highlights looking
like this:

T-shirt
Shorts
Unshaven
Uncombed

In keeping with the rule that anytime a guy dresses down, he'll find a live target, Murph's
was loaded with them. Chatted up several SHBs/HBs and a few NHBs, including
NHBJ eff, basically PAWNED onto me by her SHBFriend, but she was kinda cute so we
started talking. She's like BORING as shit but easy to keep interested, so we keep
talking. I get some light kino at first, but it's crowded, and I disengage to head
downstairs, where I talk to some other targets, but everyone's pretty much paired up
(downstairs is more quiet, with tables).

Head back UPSTAIRS and reengage NHBJ eff, who's busy tolerating this DrunkDude. I
do nothing, wait for himto crash and burn, then begin regaming her. This time we
isolate all the way to the back of the dining roomon the top level, so no more
cockblocking and AMOGing. We talk for five or ten minutes, then a makeout about as
long, then some more talking, then more making out, and she decides to invite me home.
We stop in my lobby (!) where I leave her there to go get my coat since I wasn't prepared
for travel and it was cold, but she's cool. Then it's a cab to her place (she paid!), and
she's locked out so she's gotta pay the super $20.00 to let us in. She's got a NICE
fucking place around the corner fromJ eff that she shares with another nurse.

We fucked until around 6:00, then again at noon, "spontaneously," while I was waiting
for Banned4Life to drive by to pick me up (he was scheduled for a visit). He drives me
home and we bet the races all day. Still not winning there. #)$*)#$*@ Beyer!! Guys,
KEEP YOUR SECRETS! Don't be stupid and publish thembecause that Red Queen
will destroy your edge.


373

Gave this one an "informal" hypnomassage (just toyed around enough to make her
sluttier and more relaxed), but she was like a sex-toy fromthe get-go. Probably hasn't
been laid in a while. Reminds me of me when I devoured SHBFoodCourt.

Ray

p.s. Got three of the Final Four in a really large pool intact, but NC beat Cincy, so I
need Michigan to win it all, for that and my futures bet.


If seduction were basketball, this was the result:

77 North Carolina
40 Yale

99 UNLV
54 San Francisco

42 Ball St.
87 Michigan

It was not:

49 Princeton (16)
50 Georgetown (1)

They call it running into a buzzsaw. The target was overmatched, and overwhelmed,
never standing a chance against a Division I superpower.


Aim high long enough, and the power of the class drop will convert targets like this
into empty-netters. L-III PUAs usually wont waste their L-III gimmicks an NHB, unless theyre
horny, and on a bit of a power-trip, which, thanks to Michigan, I definitely was. I realized that
my energy when watching the highlights of my high-stakes wager was way more seductive than
my reverse peacocking was a repellant.

Report-Seventy-One-Love-And-Basketball-II-(Full-Text)


374
Lesson Twenty-Six:
The Ultimate Mindfuck

Hypnosis is as misunderstood as it is powerful. My years of devotion to finding the
perfect trance had paid off, not just with MomOfClubs, but with my general development of the
gimmick, and as my preferred method of relaxation, stress relief, creativity-enhancement, and
sleep-control, all rolled into one. Unlike most "hypnotherapists," who like to target specific
behaviors with hypnosis (selling the mysticism of trance as a therapy-bonus to increase revenue),
I "target" its use for general well-being, when not running it as a gimmick. In MomOfClubs, I
had found a perfect sexy hypnotist, yet her single "performance" was not going to be repeated,
thus leaving me with knowledge of her technique, and the drive to find similar talent in another.
Instead, I reverted to the tape I was using back then (Hypnosis For Weight Control), to bide my
time.

Hypnotic Sealing

The hypnotic seal rewires the brain so that weaker hypnotists can no longer hypnotize
the sealed subject. This potentially dire scenario would fade away with internet video, where
RHCs (but few SHBs) upload their own hypnosis videos, with varying degrees of success, and
some outfits produce sexy-hypnosis video for retail consumption, making it possible to fulfill the
L-III fantasy impersonally, without begging, for the price of a regular video, usually between
$20.00-50.00. In 1993, the closest I could find to sexy audio was a phonesex operator, and that
was way too expensive to try out at $2.00 a minute. I did, however, learn of several "backdoor"
numbers that cost no more than a regular call, as far back as 1987, and had found a few operators
who were into phone hypno, but nothing approaching MomOfClubss level of technique. Since
MomOfClubs was not my first sealer, I figured she wouldnt be the last, and she was not, but
finding someone better was not going to be easy, thus intensifying my search.

Most sealing hypnotists are well aware of their ability, since it becomes obvious from
their subjects' reactions. Given her age, MomOfClubs had to know her power, since sorcery is
not an accident. No doubt she saw the L-III applications herself a long while back, and always
retained it as an option. To the extent her proximity in 1989 wasnt a booty call, even that
speaks to how safe we make things for the target-class, by discouraging pursuit to the extent that
she would view the visit as completely innocuous, despite having obvious signs, even before I
recognized them, that Id want her, and want her badly.

Pharmaceutical-Grade Hypnosis

As a mind-altering process with deep influence over the subconscious, great hypnosis
can be as addictive as any drug, if not more, particularly due to its lack of side-effects. Hypnotic
immunity is what causes the sealing process: the "sealing trance" makes the subject immune to
weaker hypnotists, or hypnotists. This is something few hypnotists understand, because they
assume their techniques will work the same on all subjects, most of whom are unsealed (or


375
sealed by them), or easily resealed by others. It is only when a subject is intentionally sealed by
a super-strong hypnotist that the effect is noticed. Seals cannot be broken via regression: saying
"go back to your seal" or anything similar will "bounce off the walls" of the seal, as would
instructions to give yourself a new favorite food, or favorite song. As a sorceress, MomOfClubs
would seal far more of her subjects than the average hypnotist.

In the course of my own deployment of this alpha gimmick, I have sealed dozens of
female subjects, but was always available for encores, as they needed. Since few were that much
into hypnosis, the seal had little lasting impact, or they just found a stronger male hypnotist,
something very easy for an RHC+, as male hypnotists will literally line up around the block,
tending towards much more powerful, aggressive inductions, so as not to squander their only
winning chance. In extreme cases, hypnorape is possible, as evidenced by two cases this decade,
where hypnotists were arrested for coercing their unwitting subjects (hypnotized under therapy
pretext) into sex, in one case on videotape. The legal theory was diminished capacity, much like
with alcohol, yet hypnotic control can be much deeper, with the "right" hypnotist. Those who
say all hypnosis is self-hypnosis obviously believe the seven alleged rape victims were lying.

On the toxic-target side, financial mind control, usually from dominatrixes, is the
most common weapon of choice for the female hypnopredator, along with "romantic
enslavement," or using the subject to commit criminal acts. The 2002 film The Surge has one of
the sexiest hypnosis scenes ever, courtesy of Melissa Rene Martin, whose "Ashley Bainbridge"
character was given mind-control powers, with dialogue that carefully cloaked her inductions, so
only a true hypnofreak would do the math, and the edits. Martin's vocal delivery was among the
most hypnotic I've ever seen, while the "roleplay" suggestions were quite strong, even if the
subject had to use self-hypnosis to become receptive two it. The 2005 film Tamara, starring
Jenna Dewan-Tatum, relied more on visual hypnosis (her body is amazing, as is her eye contact),
but her hypnovoice was equally impressive. In one scene, she hypnotizes two men to
hallucinate they are making out with her, when they are actually making out with each other!

The CIA's infamous MK-ULTRA experiment sources much of what little there is of
modern hypnotic-coercion theory. As a youth, I read The Control Of Candy Jones, about a
females experience with MK-ULTRA. An old episode of Vegas featured a "beautiful
hypnotist" (a laughably weak NHB) who hypnotized the male lead into committing crimes.
Shows like this triggered the hypnofetish for a generation of males who would later form their
own internet subculture. More recently, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation's "The Happy Place"
focused on a female stage hypnotist (MENSA member Glenne Headley) and therapist who
hypnotized bank tellers to confuse $1.00 bills with $100.00 bills, making robbery simple, and
then hypnotized one of the tellers to dive off a hotel balcony, via a hallucination that she was
diving into an ocean. The recent film Fourth Mind features Mila Janovic as a "sexy
psychiatrist" who performs hypnosis, while Stir Of Echoes featured Ileana Douglas as a medium
who hypnotizes Kevin Spacey. None of this is new, however, as The Woman In Green (1945)
featured a female hypnocriminal.



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The application of hypnotic control to seduction is obvious to the trained mind, and
has a huge market niche all its own, yet has not been dealt with very well by Big Media, or the
adult industry. YouTube has excerpts of pretty much every female-hypnotist scene ever filmed,
and I've found that the "comedy" skits, most of which rely on hallucination, are often the most
hypnotic. Far more common are male hypnotists and female subjects. The few adult films with
direct hypnotic themes (Night Trips was indirect, and more sexy than hypnotic), include
Hypnorotica, a 1975 film which has been made obsolete by modern induction techniques,
Suggestive Behavior, which relied on a hypnosis tape, and the 2005 direct-themed Come Under
My Spell, starring Las Vegas hypnotist Rob Seven. This last film was poorly received by the
hypnofetish community, for having "too much sex, and not enough hypno." Thats right: there
was too much sex in the porn movie.

Advanced hypnofetishists have two clear fantasies: one is of the all-powerful super-
elite, who uses her looks and sexuality to enhance her perfect induction technique, while the
other, more "pure" version, has a plain hypnotist who becomes more appealing as the subject
goes deeper, and her technique overcomes her physicality. I do prefer the latter, but am wise to
the limitations of not wanting the woman to be too plain. All else equal, I'd rather have a Jenna
Dewan (Tamara) than a UG, but pharmaceutical-grade sorceresses rarely need (or deploy)
more than visual hypnosis, so it is the RHC, or Melissa-Martin type, who tends to offer the best
combination of looks and skillz. Some internet outfits, which I refer to as shit factories,
"specialize" in combining subpar looks, subpar talent, and subpar inductions to grind out revenue
from the "unsealed masses." Thanks to internet-video sites, the next generation of sorceresses is
developing more rapidly than ever, providing increasingly better experiences, often free of
charge, and completely eliminating the need for hypnotrolling. Had I met Le Club today, odds
are the gimmick would never have been deployed, with her or MomOfClubs.

My neverending search for stronger and deeper trances has raised my hypnotic
immunity to deep levels, yet a sealing hypnotist can "drop" even me without difficulty (if she
wants to, even as others would assure her I'm a "lousy subject." Applied to other areas of life,
Michael Jordan was my "sealing" basketball player, while either shrimp or barbecued spareribs
are my "sealing food," etc. In the pre-internet era, however, I was stuck with MomOfClubs as
my sealer, and "stuck" by an inability to further explore hypnosis with her. NHBHypnoMassage
disclaimed any L-III intent, but I suspect her personal life has a few interesting stories, as
possession of this power is difficult for one to remain ignorant of having. Diamonds, like the
OTL, offer excellent private relaxation sessions, but bring that A-game only for guys like
LimoDude. As I could not afford her, motivate the Spades, or romance the Hearts (who make
lousy sorceresses anyway), the Aces of Clubs were my only option.

Things were so dire for hypnotrolls in 1993, that Madonna's Erotica, where she sang
I'd like to put you in a trance, was about the most "hypnotic" mass-distributed sexy hypnosis
out there. Actresses who have claimed an interest in hypnosis (most do relaxation exercises as
part of acting classes), include Julia Roberts, a trained hypnotist, Florence Henderson, an actual
hypnotherapist (her eye contact in the Amish Paradise video suggests competence), and Vegas's


377
Vanessa Marcil, who related in an FHM interview that a man she knew would hypnotize her
over the phone and get her off, which she noted was "efficient," since she could easily fit it into
her schedule. I once called a little-known female actress who performed a very sexy, powerful
induction on The Rockford Files, to see if she had training, and she said she had not. This
showed that a well-scripted actress who properly gets into character can function as well, or
better, than a trained one.

With the community covering NLP and hypnotic persuasion so well, the reader
should already be somewhat familiar with the basic techniques, while those who have been
marketed to by the gurus have had NLP run directly on them, as it is a common
community sales tactic. With the typical whale customer confused about seduction, he is
already more suggestible than normal, and easy prey for NLP sales tactics, but this is not specific
to the community, since mainstream advertising is usually loaded with NLP questions like
When was the last time you felt great about owning a car? They want you to attach those
feelings to the car they are selling, etc. My main objection to NLP is that its patronizing, with
the NLPer never seeming to grasp that some targets are immune to it, while others are just better
hypnotists.

Pure sorcery is a secret art form, because stealth is a key ingredient. MomOfClubs
would not dazzle the PUA at first blush, although her daughter might, yet if she chooses to
reveal herself, as she slowly did to me, shell find little resistance, particularly if she has
carefully chosen her prey. I was a sitting duck, precisely because she was so off-limits. I could
have gamed her six ways to Sunday and back, and otherwise would have. What she has, I
have found exactly four times in my life, and it is not something that can be faked, a role which
can be played, or something that can be learned overnight. Kate, with these skillz, would blow
these four AOCSs (Ace-of-Clubs sorceresses) out of the water, yet its difficult to imagine her
having felt any need to develop them. The OTL has, but only for the right price, while
SHBDancer was more than capable, but not predisposed to sorcery.

Hypnosis And The Clueless-Or-Gay Rule

One disturbing community trend is men hypnotizing other men, in a terminal
breach of the clueless-or-gay rule. Many of these NLPGurus are gay, and gaming their
students under the radar, exploiting their uncertainty about the target-class, and their ignorance
about sorcery. Indeed, the term under the radar that PUAs use originated in the gay
community. On another level, why men would want to be hypnotized by a male, rather than a
female, is beyond me. Its not like fucking other men, but its definitely on a par with slow-
dancing with them. To those who consider my views on hypnosis creepy and perverted, I
answer as I always do: Why do they perform stage-hypnosis in high-schools?

Lesson-Twenty-Six-The-Ultimate-Mindfuck-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Seventy-Two:
Sanity Calls A Timeout (Love And Basketball III)

Chris Webber's infamous timeout at the end of the 1993 NCAA Championship Game
was the second biggest error of that Final Four. Here was the first:

DATE: March 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FU+++: Wrong Answer, No Girlfriend
NOW PLAYING: I Have Nothing, by Whitney Houston
IN THE NEWS: Michigan, NC Make Final Four

Did I do the right thing? Either I took a stand for men everywhere, or just had an all-
time FUCKUP. Maybe both?

WHY do chicks DO this? Everything was PERFECT this time, except the TIMING.
Maybe I would have fucked it up some other way, but I would have loved the chance.

Talked to HBFriendSis again on the phone. This time SHE called ME (always more
significant). Brief, to-the-point conversation, after the ringing phone wakes me up:

ME: "Hello."

HER: "Ray?"

ME: "Yeah...what's up?"

HER: "I've talked it over with my mom, and have decided to give a
relationship with you a try. I'mfree all day Saturday. Would you like
to visit and go out?"

ME: "Saturday? Hmm...wait, that's the FINAL FOUR...."

HER: "Forget it."

No second chance. Topic is now off the table. I was going to blow off the games for
her, but I was groggy and I stand to win two dimes on Michigan, so I had to think for a
second.

One second too long.

Ray



379

The night Hoosier Keith Smart sank the game-winning shot against Syracuse in the
1987 NCAA Championship game, I banked by typing a rush paper for a Wharton MBA
(double the normal rate). On my way home, at 40
th
and Locust, a drunk HB briefly stopped in
front of me, and, in hit-and-run fashion, said:

Tell me: would you blow your girlfriend off for a basketball game!!?

Oh no, not me! Never!


Choose one:

a. Watching the Final Four; or
b. Sex with an AOCS

Simple!

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?9089-Field-Report-Seventy-
Two-Sanity-Calls-A-Timeout-(Love-And-Basketball-III-Full-Text)


380
Field Report Seventy-Three:
Its The Thought That Counts

Due to the Fourth Aces propensity for club conferences, I figured Id give them
something to really chew on for the next one:

DATE: May 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Sent HBFriendSis A Gift
NOW PLAYING: Two Princes, by The Spin Doctors
IN THE NEWS: Phillies Open Huge Early Division Lead; Skeptics Declare
Collapse Imminent
TARGET CARDS: Aces of Clubs

Called HBFriendSis after her temper tantrumat me not jumping at the chance to be with
her. Pretend to flirt with her long enough to get her measurements, and apologized for
blowing her off for the Final Four even if I wasn't going to. We're back pretty much
where we were, I think, could probably go out again, but distance is still an issue. She's
home for the summer so nowhere to fuck her other than under a roof where I know her
whole family, and still want to fuck her mom. Too freaky.

Didn't like the way she consulted her mombefore she called me out of the blue like that,
so I decided to give themsomething to talk about. Told her I saw something I thought
would be perfect for her, a "small gift" I would be sending in the mail. I head to this
LINGERIE STORE (where PG-5 works!), pick up this GORGEOUS, full-length, RED
SILK NEGLIGEE with more holes than Swiss cheese. Cost me like $85.00, but
money's still good, so no biggie. Giftwrap it and have it sent to her directly fromthe
shop, with a card that said "Enjoy." Call her up a few weeks later:

ME: "Did you get the gift?"

HER: "Um, yeah. It caused quite a stir!"

ME: "Your opinion is the only one that counts."

HER: "Well I don't have anything else like it, that's for sure. Thank you for
thinking of me."

ME: "Wear it well!"

Definitely shook things up!

Ray



381

Mission accomplished: she had something to wear for our next rendezvous, and fodder
for the next Club conference, where my fate would be determined, this time not so favorably,
and I did nothing to reverse it, figuring we were done.


Like a true Ace of Clubs, she thanked me for the gift, graciously, while commenting
on its boldness, for which I didnt apologize, making it unambiguous that I wanted to be
fucking her. From here, our EL-II dissipated, as my focus shifted back to results-oriented game.

Three-Its-The-Thought-That-Counts-(Full-Text)


382
Lesson Twenty-Seven:
The Fall Of Twenty-Six

The Philadelphia counterpart to The Summer of Twenty-One had a perfect-storm
convergence, that had me spending my days in a lawfirm word-processing pit, with thirteen older
females, two hired-guns in charge, and me (I lasted six weeks, amazingly, before quitting), and
evenings working on a Paradox project at the Wharton offices, which allowed me to finish my
year working at UPenn, for maximum resume value. Both gigs ended simultaneously, cutting
my combined income from a robust $600.00 a week, to zero, which meant it was time for my
next employment adventure, as I continued to code PowerBase, courtesy of the computer
purchased in March, thanks to PowerBase hitting almost every game on the card one Saturday.
That win, plus a last gasp racetrack windfall of $1,100.00+, allowed me to purchase a state-of-
the-art computer, and laser printer, in cash. This had me back in business as a freelancer.

In late August, 1993, I took a temp gig at the offices of the District Council 33 (DC-
33) legal-services plan, paid for by the citys blue-collar union, located on a near-island, at 30
th

and Walnut, with the entrance prone to worker protests, real or threatened strikes, and
impromptu media events. It was a nice walk, or a quick busride home, but lunch had me
venturing to 30
th
Street Station, particularly its bookstore, where I began digesting every
relationship text I could find. I stumbled upon Are You The One For Me?, by Barbara
DeAngelis. Her work, along with Larry Daviss Black And Single, addressed issues of
compatibility and SMV, similar to the basis for CUPID. Another book from that era, Winifred
Cutlers Searching For Courtship, took a more gender-neutral approach; the author had actually
called me one morning in response to a letter I had faxed in response to one of her columns,
saying my viewpoint was interesting. In those days, however, absent a book deal, or Big
Media gig, the study of game was purely a labor of love, and sex. Most of my work with
CUPID was for deployment as an L-II gimmick, so I could present as a relationship expert,
instead of a regular working grunt. With betting still in the toilet, I needed a new alpha gimmick.

Eight Weeks At Arthur Anderson

After the DC-33 assignment ended successfully, I was called into another Big Six
accounting firm, where I stayed until 8:45 p.m. one night, marveling at how quiet the office had
become, despite several partners having not gone home. The pay was shit ($8.50 an hour), but I
felt important, though not enough to offset being underpaid, so I bailed, until the following day I
was called to interview at my third Big Six firm, this time for a job managing a Paradox
database, for a big litigation-support project. The position required a college degree, but the
placement counselor scored me an interview, due to my skill with this obscure software. I
brought a printout of the March 1993 rating list to the interview, and scored the job, on the spot,
sealed with a cold-transmitting handshake, which would knock me out for three days, after a
half-day of torture on Monday, proving myself worth the wait, while overlooking the injury.



383
My feral employment, and work with PowerBase, had led me to the halls of power of
corporate America, to an opportunity to work alongside sharpest of the sharp financial minds, as
part of their crack support staff, which was pretty skilled by corporate standards, but not too
impressive otherwise, and extremely overpaid. Andersons lawfirm client was the one whose
word-processing pit I had just exited, which meant that I was being paid $11.00 an hour to work
on a database, with a pair of CPAs working under me, at double or triple my salary, all for
something I would have gladly done at the lawfirm itself for $10.00 an hour! I calculated that I
was making Anderson about $9.00 for every $1.00 they were paying me, which offended my
sense of everything, particularly exploitation. With so many government clients in the mix, the
costs were being passed on to the Treasury, but no one cared, because the economy was good,
and our growing national debt concerned no one.

The temp agency which hired me for this gig actually stole it from another agency
that had called to warn me that the applicant pool is drying up. The 1991 recession was
similar to the current financial crisis, in that workers were so discouraged, and had difficulty
grasping how much things had improved. It paid to be feral once again, after two years of
stability. I wound up running the database project, after the manager responsible for it elected
to defer to me on everything, instead focusing on keeping me happy, taking me to lunch several
days a week (Ribit or TGIFridays, usually for ribs, and sometimes drinks), and even driving me
home when we left at the same time. My first full day, I was given the input sheets, and a
quota of 105 records a day to input, based on their interns performance. At 3:45 p.m., after
hitting 300 records, I quit for the day, and usually got out by 4:00 p.m. on subsequent days, once
I hit my personal quota of 350. The September beginning, and my suit-and-tie, made me appear
to the firm as just another newly-minted CPA. My agency didnt care what I did, because my
reviews were glowing.

When the Phillies beat the Braves in the playoffs, and the partner who hired me won a
nice bet, I was in. When the 1993-94 NCAA basketball season began, I had PowerBase ready to
go, and enough of a bankroll to start at $100.00 a game. The newly-coded program caught fire,
opening the season with a 24-5 winning streak, netting me several thousand dollars, while my
last big win at the track added $1,500.00+, giving me enough TURD-money to survive the
winter without working, if I so chose. Things were going great at Anderson, except for a few
things:

1. Racism and sexism. I would be told, by more than one in a position to
know, that if you were black, Jewish, or female, your odds of making
partner were slim.

2. Overcharging. Not overbilling, since I never found those secret files, but
just charging white-collar rates for what really required a tradesman, or
database-specialist. If this database job was any indication, corporate
America was being bled to death by bloat, inefficiency, and outright
corruption.


384

3. Corruption/cynicism. Ill let the 1998 irregularities speak for themselves.

4. Their employment agency. The agency that didnt send me to this gig,
called me in response to another resume, then refused to send me to a
medical-secretarial gig, claiming the job required a year of medical
experience, which I had. I cut off the agency, and, with it, Anderson, since
the agency was the primary path into permanent office work there, and in
the Big Six. Stagnation was obvious, plus I had serious ethical issues
with the way the firm was run.

5. Hired-guns. A brilliant SHBAccountant was relegated to wearing a
flaming-red cocktail dress, and attending lunch with recruits. She was
excellent in her role, and introduced me better than any coworker ever had
(rare office props for me), but I knew she was biting the bullet; she would
soon leave for a smaller, venture-capital firm, as their corporate hired-gun
instead. She used to brag about her new marriage to some white-bread, frat-
boy type, but based on what is in this text, I would predict theyve been
divorced by now. One subtle form of sexual-harassment I noticed was the
refusal of men to call her by her married name (I got there after she was
married).

I had actually come within a hair of being the first nondegreed staffer at Anderson, but
they chose to cling to their sheepskin requirement. My manager had even made it known he
would tilt work to me, to avoid losing me. This required me to be a white guy in a suit,
reporting to work every morning, at a firm lacking in diversity, which was exploiting my work
by a nine-to-one ratio, using hired-guns (the first beauty premium studies were coming out
around here), and engaging in the accounting irregularities which would one day make them
famous. I saw a line of dominoes, certain to fall once the overpriced gravy-train dried up, but
also knew it would take a long, long time, around fifteen to twenty years. I eventually left the
firm, saying I dont take money from Satan. I then remember thinking I would be swimming
upstream until something destroyed corporate America, and used my fifteen-year timetable as
a guide, figuring that was how long it would take for everything to truly crash our economy. I
had thought the 1990-1991 recession was going to do it, but realized that technology was making
America too wealthy. For a $300.00-an-hour attorney to stop hiring eye-candy, his clients would
have to go broke first, to where he couldnt afford to discriminate. Fifteen years after I left this
assignment was late 2008, the beginning of the financial crisis.

Given the choice of looking the other way, for personal gain, and separating once and
for all from the American way of life (apathy), I moved my tack back home, spent the winter
finishing PowerBase, while living off my winnings, after which I would seek a new employment
adventure in the spring, while dedicating all spare time to becoming my own boss, completely
off the poisoned corporate grid I was confident would one day crumble under the inevitable


385
financial earthquake that results when one squanders power and money, by placing it in the
wrong hands. I was already against discrimination, but my main opposition then, as now, was
economic, because I felt then, as now, that meritocracy is essential to the survival of capitalism.
This is common sense: overpay an underqualified person to do anything, and money runs out.
Because this is a macroeconomic concern, our nation of microeconomists couldnt have cared
less.

Politics may seem unrelated to seduction, but they arent, particularly when it comes
to breeding, and have been known to break up marriages. The rift between me and the typical
corporate hired-gun, like the OTL, ran deep, and precluded even an EL-II, due to the censorship
and denial which would have been necessary to keep the peace. Admonishments not to go
there, abrupt termination of conversations, and advisories to seek minimum-wage employment,
or psychiatric help, are not solid building blocks of a friendship, particularly when sourced by a
Letterman type Manhattan support-staffer, or one who has done time in the infamous boom-
boom rooms on Wall Street. When ethics are so clearly absent, sex is fine with these targets, but
only a women-addicted fool would consider them fit girlfriends, wives, or mothers, particularly
when Le Club, or another AOCS, was a live alternative.

The Fall of Twenty-Six was an unqualified success. I would profit for many years
from the work performed during these few months, at both Anderson, and at home. I had been
consistently employed for over two straight years, and had a solid resume, even if I went back to
temping, and could use my freelancing to cover any time gaps. As a sled-dog, my skillz
usually got me hired, but it was nice to be able to provide two references from permanent jobs. I
did, however, lose the agency that sent me to Anderson, when I walked out, yet they seemed
more curious that I had actually done so, since most workers lack that initiative. In many ways,
it was similar to walking out of the public junior-high, just knowing something better had to be
out there.somewhere. Racist, sexist, corrupt corporate types were not what I wanted to spend
the majority of my time among, as I figured this would make me one of them way too easily.
This was almost financial suicide, yet it was an extremely liberating, defining moment,
particularly for my game, which was about to skyrocket beyond even the impact of thirteen
years, Four Aces, countless other targets, and two PUA bootcamps, all because I chose to remain
true to myself.

Lesson-Twenty-Seven-The-Fall-Of-Twenty-Six-(Full-Text)


386
Field Report Seventy-Four:
Close Quarters Syndrome

Tied up a loose end in between temp assignments:

DATE: 11 Sep 1993
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Lunch Date w/SHBCoworker
NOW PLAYING: Do You Really Want Me?, by Salt N' Pepa
IN THE NEWS: Braves 2-1 To Crush Phillies In NLCS.

Caught up with SHBCoworker for lunch at the main campus food court (split check).
Lingered for a while, had a nice chat, flirted a little, but no real sparks.

Watch out for coworkers, guys: you'll think you want themmore than you do when
you're there, but once you quit you won't.

Ray


Such an interesting date for this lunch date, one I had always remembered positively,
until a few years down the road. Separation from our coworker relationship shed proper light on
this high-quality target, but we wound up a step short of L-III escalation, despite the occasional
hint that something might eventually happen. I believe she was open to fucking me, but not as
the man I was presenting as at the time. Our EL-II was excellent, entertaining, and educational,
so it was a net plus, and this does technically score as a stats-padding lunch date, with a strong
pivot. A man could do worse.


In 1999, on my way back from Kinkos, not long after I published Foxes, this target
called out to me on the street, looking hot as ever, yet I ignored her. She would go on to take the
higher-level administrative position in the department, a year or so after I left. Had she done so
originally, I might have been able to remain at UPenn, since I wouldnt have felt so stagnated,
due to not applying for the job.

Report-Seventy-Four-Close-Quarters-Syndrome-(Full-Text)


387
Field Report Seventy-Five:
Weighting For A Girl Like You

I used to say this one backed away because of my weight, but it was more like weight
had "backed me in" to her:

DATE: 03 Nov 1993 20:32:1 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 26)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: HELP! I'M AFC AGAIN!
NOW PLAYING: Shoop, by Salt N' Pepa
IN THE NEWS: Phillies Lose Series On Carter Walkoff Grand Slam

SHIT! FUCK! I HAVE ONEITIS!! If you saw HBLatvia (8.8), you would too! She's
pretty, SMART, and a great date! Took her out TWICE this weekend, then spent this
evening (Monday) with her all evening in her apartment after work. We both live with
family so nothing happened (wouldn't have anyway), other than some strong kino on the
first "date," and mild on dates two and three.

She's Eastern-European (Latvian), twenty-three, met her across the street as her family
was unloading their car to move in to one of the houses. They invite me in, I invite her
out for the day, take her all over campus. Next day I take her to a coffeehouse, then was
gonna take her to dinner last night, but she was sick, yet still insisted on hanging out.
We're going out again Friday. She asked me to teach her CHESS! Also said she liked
hypno and wants to try it with me. Fascinating!

Talk about a WHIRLWIND. We have SO much in common, and she's not like the
ditzes in this country. Mom's a visiting scholar at Penn. Only drawback is she hangs
with this group of Latvians who never talk to anyone else. Said she followed her mom
over here to get away froma psycho fianc who wouldn't take no for an answer. J ust
what I need: an international AMOG.

Will keep you posted, if the KGB doesn't get us first.

Ray


Lets just say there were serious mitochondrial issues opposite those surrounding Le
Club. This was a fetish chick, easily confused with a soulmate-target, by the sex-addicted.



388

In reaction to this heartbreak, I had a meltup, particularly of my CUPID rating, due
to a winter spent shedding fat, building muscle, and getting in the best shape of my life, which
caused the looks points to jack my CUPID rating into super-elite territory, with a pile of TURD-
money on call, though, like most eye-candy, I wound up not needing an extra cent (above
infrastructure costs) to run game once the winter ice broke. This was a very intentional part of
my seduction research, an exploration of what it would be like to be a hottie. It was also a
perfect excuse, at a perfect time, due to the horrific weather, which would leave me little else to
do but finish PowerBase, bet hoops, and work out every few days.

Five-Weighting-For-A-Girl-Like-You-(Full-Text)


389
.Lesson Twenty-Eight:
Diet And Exercise

The "Winter of Twenty-Seven" consisted, almost entirely, of the lessons titular
activities, plus PowerBase. If I wasn't working out (to gain CUPID looks points), I was coding
the software, and betting (to gain TURD-money), and eating right (for more looks points). My
own "method" (CUPID) said I would get laid like a rockstar if I did this, and I figured I should
take my own advice, if I was planning to sell it to others. This "active" approach to writing,
popularized by Hunter S. Thompson, leads to better experiences, for both writer and reader. I
had the youth, the fitness, and the TURD-money to fund this alpha isolation, the need to wait out
HBLatvia, until she would inevitably move, and aimed for a lifetime peak in the spring of 1994.

The isolation was easy, and fun, since the permafrost precluded going out. I spent
down the TURD-money on living expenses. The Anderson assignment left me with sufficient
Paradox "skillz" to finish PowerBase, while my "sabbatical" left me with no daily grind to
interfere with my exercise. I could go to the gym at any hour, and would sometimes stumble in
at 5:30 a.m., during the day, or in the evenings, but only thrice a week, in accordance with my
new program (outlined below). My goal was to lose forty pounds in sixteen or so weeks, an
average of two to three pounds a week. This was a personal, self-driven lifestyle bootcamp,
during which I would record my progress, via a diary of my eating and exercise habits, to
measure their impact. To this extent, it was a perfect success on all counts. A text on weight-
loss and the beauty premium was also compiled.

How To REALLY Get In Shape. Fast

It is said there is no magic bullet for fitness, but there is, and it's a two-step process:

1. Eat right
2. Exercise

It works! Really! If you eat right, and exercise regularly, your fitness will improve.
This is not difficult, especially if you make the connection between fitness and the sex with
pharmaceutical-grade women, which will inevitably result. Lifestyle game becomes
unnecessary when ones looks approach perfection, since status will be bestowed soon after, as
any super-elite knows instinctively. Besides, it takes a lot more than a $22,000.00 salary to
seduce the OTL. If I couldnt compete with LimoDude, I wasnt going to piss into the
hurricane by giving up my time for anything more than infrastructure costs. Bodybuilding was
easier, cheaper, and didnt require much time, though the high intensity program was, well,
intense.

After reading everything I could on the subject (another product of having more than
just a lunch hour to browse), and doing so in the bookstores, so I didn't have to purchase the


390
books, I did wind up buying one book, while following the principles of a second, to form my
personal "fitness method":

1. High-Intensity Bodybuilding, by Ellington Darden

2. Eat More/Weigh Less, by Dean Ornish, M.D.

I would modify Darden's program only slightly, following it almost to the letter, while
using Ornish's "low-fat/high-calorie" approach, the opposite of The Atkins Diet, and one I
consider much healthier, since it does not allow for the pounds of artery-clogging red meat of the
"low-carb" approach.

Pursuant to Darden's recommendations, this was my high intensity workout:

Exercise Begin# End# Reps

Full squats (x2) 135 350 12-20
Torso pullover 35 65 8-12
Bicep curls (x2) 35 60 8-12
Tricep curls (x2) 20 50 8-12
Adduction (legs) 90 150 6-10
Abduction (legs) 90 150 6-10
Calf raises (x2) 160 340 12-20
Pulldowns (rope) 90 140 8-12
Leg curls 70 170 8-12
Leg extension 70 140 8-12
Shrugs 50 100 8-12
Bench press 150 320 4-8
Incline situps N/A 2 16
Stairmaster N/A 45:00-L3 90:00-L10

The weights you use at first are irrelevant, since your body will strengthen as you
continually push your limits. Darden is correct, in that the extended recovery time that comes
with a whole-body workout will accelerate your progress, while cutting your gym visits and total
"sets" in half. The workouts are brutal, however, and take some getting used to, but thoughts of
HBLatvia, and the fat-induced desperation which led to her, made quitting not an option. The
picture from my 1991 License Not To Drive (nondriver's ID), replete with double-chin, was
further inspiration. I would even save money, since high-carb foods, like pasta, are inexpensive,
while I could even cut my gym "membership" to $5.00 a visit, or $50.00 for ten visits, rather
than the $75.00 a month I would have had to pay otherwise. I would work out every three days,
eventually cutting to twice a week. Normal workout days were Monday, Wednesday, and
Saturday. For vanity, I used the tanning booths after each workout.

My diet plan, the meal management system, divided meals into three categories:


391

1. Primary meals, very low in fat (less than 10 percent calories from fat),
sugar, and salt, and high in complex carbohydrates. My primary meal was
usually 6-8 oz. of pasta, 8-12 ounces of sauce, and a pint or quart of orange
juice.

2. Secondary meals, or the typical American "primary" meal (30-40 percent
calories from fat), such as a Quarter Pounder With Cheese, fries, and a
medium soda. My normal secondary meal was something like a large (21
oz.) Stouffer's lasagna.

3. Binge meal. Every Friday at midnight, to ensure I would get enough fat
calories (!), I would eat as much of whatever I wanted, and drink as much as
I wanted. I would usually go to Murph's, for a few Long Island Iced Teas,
and a large pizza with double onions, which I would eat as I ran "game" on
the Friday night crowd. As my weight decreased, my results definitely
increased.

The breakdown of the meals was simple:

1. Eleven primary meals each week, with fruit, bread, and orange juice, my
only snacks.

2. Three secondary meals, usually both Tuesday meals, and Friday's
"breakfast."

3. One binge meal, Friday, at midnight, usually a 14" pizza with double-
onions, at Murphy's Tavern, where I would measure the impact of looks on
my L-I game. Not once did I ever put on an extra ounce because of this
meal, designed to ensure I got enough fat in my diet.

4. All meals eaten twelve hours apart, usually at 7:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m.,
except for the binge meals.

5. Snacks as needed, usually bread and orange juice, or anything low in fat,
sugar, and salt.

This added up to 15 percent of total calories from fat, from around 3,000 calories a
day, or 450 daily fat calories, far lower than I had previously been ingesting. The primary meals
were around 1,300 calories, with only 150 or so from fat. The secondary meals were more
generous, usually a 21 oz. Stouffer's Lasagna, or a McDonald's Quarter-Pounder combination
meal. The binge meal could be anything I wanted, and was designed to ensure sufficient fat
intake. Fat is actually a nutrient, but most diets overload it; not this one! I had to add the binge


392
meal just to ensure I was getting enough fat! By not adding new stored fat to my stomach,
increasing muscle mass (muscle burns seventy-five calories a day per pound, while fat burns
eleven), my forty-pound spare tire (the equivalent of the two bowling balls I used to carry to my
league, plus bags), began dropping off, like clockwork, at the rate of two pounds per week, after
an initial loss of ten or so pounds in the first two weeks.

Each week, I would watch my weight drop, to 216...then 214...212....210, then 208,
206, 204, 202, and, shortly after New Year's, back to 200, for the first time since early 1988. By
Valentine's Day, 1994, I had hit 192#, stepped up my efforts, and plowed through to 190, 188,
186, and 184, before finally topping off in March, 1994, at 183#, 11.7 percent bodyfat, and what
the trainer in my gym reported, from his testing, as excellent physical condition....for a twenty-
one year-old. My hard work had definitely paid off. I had become truly hawt.

Looks DO Count

While I have no "before" pictures, the one from 2001 (Age 34) approximates my looks
from The Fall of Twenty-Six:

1994 (Age 27)

2001 (Age 34)

2006 (Age 39)

My looks in 1994 exceeded even those from The Battle of Kate. I was living the
CUPID dream, achieving near-perfection in two categories (looks and brains), which put my
CUPID rating at around 70 (strong sub-elite), with my average status pushing me well into
elite territory (80-90). Because men need strength in three categories, a case could be made for
my being a super-elite, which I was, among targets who equated looks with status. Combined
with my experience, ferality, and lifestyle integration, if seduction were martial arts, I'd have
been the Ultimate Fighting Champion, or damn close. While I would teach this to the
"community," rather than playing student, my motivations were identical to that of even today's
rank-and-file: the use of pharmaceutical-grade women. In other words, I was still chasing, not
what the OTL and Kate had become, but what they were at their peak.

A Message For "Outcast" Males

Once again:

Do you want to fuck pharmaceutical-grade women or not?



393
In order to achieve this goal, I was walking two miles each way, with a high-intensity
workout, and ninety minutes of StairMaster hell, in between, eating mostly pasta and rice,
drinking mostly orange juice, and adding long-distance skating, once the weather improved. I
gamed not a single target, instead getting ready to implement my own version of GFTOW,
and, if I was lucky, score a book deal, or a writing gig, though these were longshots. With looks,
brains, L-III gimmicks, and youth, I had no difficulty presenting strongly to new targets, and a
lifestyle bump in my finances was always one winning streak, or new employment adventure,
away. While this was going on, George Sodinis dry spell was approaching four years, and his
Emo game would not be as easy to fix as my finances.

Inventing The Internets

Al Gores invention of the internets in 1992, caught on like wildfire. A brief stop
into the center-city Borders, after my workout, yielded some insight into the publishing industry.
One of the clerks there was working a computer, which tracked the number of copies of each
book sold in that store over the previous twelve months. I asked about some titles, and got the
following:

Copies Title

508 Sein Language (Seinfeld)
307 Stop The Insanity! (Powter)
225 Eat More/Weigh Less (Ornish)
026 High-Intensity Bodybuilding (Darden)
014 Picking Winners (Beyer)
006 Najdorf For The Tournament Player (Nunn)

Add a very curious tally, since every other tech book was averaging 15-20 copies a
year:

300 Navigating The Internet[s] (unknown)

My offering, Lose Weight And Live Happily Ever After, a combination of my meal
management system and workout program, and a commentary on looks bias, resulted in
Snoopy-like rejections from the six publishers to whom I hand-delivered the manuscript, but the
experience was educational, particularly when smaller publishers began asking me for the
manuscript, noting that anyone who took the time to register their work was a "serious author,"
the kind they would fish for among the unknowns. I took myself so seriously, that I didn't want
anything less than a major publisher but did keep the "lesser" options in mind. I also got
solicitations for writing songs, short-stories, and children's books, all thanks to the $20.00
registration fee (now $35.00) that got my name listed as an "author." As I had suspected, the
reason I was getting contacted was that registering ones work is a sign that one takes it
seriously. With the internet about to take over the world, I figured internet stocks, like Prodigy


394
and AOL, would be a great investment. Without a stable income, however, investments like that
were not within reach. On the other hand, with a stable job, the knowledge required to find them
would have escaped me.

The ice would finally melt in mid-March, 1994, after an extended "heat wave" of
around fifty degrees. This cleared the streets for the return of the skating gimmick, which had
risen to new heights, since I was now the "cool guy" rolling by. On nice days, I would run L-I
game just by throwing them on, along with those fashionable shorts I envisioned myself wearing
for HBLatvia, and with a tan I got from the gym's tanning booth, as a means of "topping off" my
looks, the only time I ever deliberately tanned. My elite CUPID-rating made me fearless,
supremely confident, and...an arrogant asshole. This cannot be avoided, with narcissism
rewarded by the target-class. I would be AMOGed and hated upon as never before, but this
would have occurred regardless of my attitude, a bitch shield of sorts, which kept my need to
break hearts to a minimum.

I had just arrived at my lifetime peak, and was completely aware of its implications.
Had I remained at Anderson, I would have also remained at the 225#, and still had no game.
Instead, HBLatvia had lit a fire under me, not to win her back, but to get back to where I
wouldnt have given her a second look. What bothered me about HBLatvia was that my feelings
for her were as sincere as they were going to get, our compatibility was obvious, yet I could tell
my feelings meant absolutely nothing. This, and Le Club finally resolving, cemented my
ferality, and my shift to results-oriented game. Having left nothing on the table with HBLatvia, I
had vowed never again to let oneitis get the best of me, and, for the most part, as in not for more
than a few weeks or a month, and only in exceptional circumstances, it hasnt.

Lesson-Twenty-Eight-Diet-And-Exercise-(Full-Text)


395
Field Report Seventy-Six:
Fire-At-Will Game

Shoot to kill:

GROUPS: alt.seduction.guru
16

DATE: February 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Streetwalker NHBGym
NOW PLAYING: Come To My Window, by Melissa Etheridge
IN THE NEWS: Republicans AimTo Regain House, Senate

Looks fucking COUNT! I don't even need game anymore!

Was walking home fromthe gymafter my workout, with a stop at this chic coffeehouse
near Walnut, when I suddenly notice I'm being FOLLOWED! Turns out it's NHBGym
(7.9), who opens ME by noting that we work out at the same gym. Swore I barely
recognized her, since I don't pay much attention to anyone. Did run into
AccountantDude in the locker roomone Saturday morning, and only one of us was in
great shape. Gave hima look that said "money isn't everything" but it was cool he's
pretty decent, especially for an older guy with money. He's just not young and buff and
I'msure he wishes he were.

I survey the situation -- an NHB who opened me -- and "fired at will" by asking her to
coffee. She accepts. An hour later, we're fucking. Two hours later, I'mhome.

Too fucking easy. Busted through minor LMR with a look that said "are you fucking
SERIOUS?" Even the chicks don't fuck with you when you look THIS good.

I'mthe fucking SHIT and I know it. They don't even care if I'marrogant, and I think
they like it. Didn't even have to hypnotize this one, since she was spellbound fromthe
get-go.

Like I say, it's not what you do, it's WHO YOU ARE.

Ray

16
As ASF became a USENET group in 1994, I have fictionalized the USENET group in the reports by renaming the
group alt.seduction.guru, to avoid any confusion.


396

Mismatch. CUPID theory was being proven, with L-I game my new bread-and-butter,
with some very expensive jam on top. Fire-at-will game is the quickest way to determine if
youve really peaked. The confidence, and lack of fear or second-guessing, will generally
improve your ROI. In my horseplaying, I practice fire-at-will money-management.


I know I need to convey to the reader, the exact frame that made this, and similar, lays
so easy. Its not about affirmations, body language, or anything else. Its about knowing your
CUPID strengths, empathizing with the target-class, so you can understand how it thinks,
recognizing even a slight ROI, because fear might cause her not to risk rejection by being too
obvious, and creating an opportunity for her (the coffee), so her inner slut can awaken,
without harming her rep. To the AFC, being called out by a lone target on the street seems
ambiguous, but it usually isnt. To the PUA, this is a fuck-me signal. The coffeehouse was
neutral territory, where she could exit gracefully, without rejecting me, if my instincts are proven
wrong, but the given information was compelling, due to my higher value, and her IOI.
Mathematically, it equates to this:

Higher value +IOI +L-II isolation +verbal escalation =Lay!

With pharmaceutical-grade women, you can try alpha aggression and treat her as if
she were an RHC, but she will usually disqualify you for being stupid. Had a super-elite stopped
me the same way, there are two main strategies:

1. Delay L-III isolation until she sends a clear signal (she usually will,
believing all she has to do is up the ante to get a man to crumble, as the
OTL and Kate had done), and go for the EL-II in the meantime. This is
often more powerful than alpha escalation because not hitting on them is
as much of an IOI as being alpha, plus they will love the EL-II. Or.

2. Escalate immediately, using any number of PUA tactics. I personally
prefer the EL-II, because neither the EL-II with the OTL, nor with Kate,
cost me the lay with either, and likely improved my chances. If one
presumes booty calls from the drunk Friday-night visits by the OTL, or The
Battle of Kate, each EL-II had been going on a while before they made the
leap.

Supreme, quiet confidence that things will go well (not I KNOW Im gonna get
laid!) is ideal here. Targets just sense this, as mine must have, even before she hunted me
down. The same was true of SHBTakeout, who invited herself on what became our breakfast
date. Whether you call it dating or not means little; the L-II isolation is the key.


397

Due To Time Constraints....

Like they do on ESPNs overnight rebroadcasts of big games, field-reports from this
era may be consolidated, with as many as a half-dozen or more condensed into one. This may
make me appear smoother than I actually was, since several reports will combine elements of
multiple lays, particularly those with similar themes. A blow-by-blow account of the
whitewashes from this period would expand this book to several thousand pages. Such is life for
a super-elite male. Skeptical readers are invited to duplicate the fourteen years of work
outlined in this text, and compare their results.

Report-Seventy-Six-Fire-At-Will-Game-(Full-Text)


398
Field Report Seventy-Seven:
Mo Skillz/Mo Haterz

No matter how strong your "game," when you play in the "major leagues," everyone
on the field will be bringing their A-game, including the AMOGs:

DATE: 12 Feb 1994 8:07 p.m. GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: FU: AMOGed Out Of NOWHERE!!
NOW PLAYING: Come To My Window, by Melissa Etheridge
IN THE NEWS: Health Care ReformLegislation Declared Dead

Had a GREAT evening going until a pair of fucking AMOGs ruined it. Not prepared for
haters, but I guess I better get used to it, especially with the sets I've been opening lately.
This guy was SO jealous it wasn't funny. Doubt he got anywhere after I left.

Sitting at home at 8:30 p.m. with nothing to do, so I pack up my chess set, and head over
to the coffeehouse to run an old gimmick. Grab a table and start studying, when
SHBMindBody (9.99) and HBMindBody (8.99) plop down at the table across from
mine. We ignore each other for about five minutes, until HBMindBody opens me:

HER: "Wanna join us?"

ME: "Nah, I'd rather study chess than talk to a pair of incredibly hot chicks."

WTF? OF COURSE I joined them. Put the chessboard away, and they seemed more
impressed with that than with the fact that I play. Asked a few questions, said I must be
smart, and I thanked them, noting that lots of guys get good at chess in prison. She's like
"ooh you're an ex-con?" I'mlike no, and she laughs in mock-disappointment.
SHBMindBody looks PERFECT, not a single flaw, and everything in the right place, so
it's more than flawless, there's a lot of good on top of it. One of the hottest chicks I've
ever met, and now I'm at her table. HBMindBody is spitting mad IOIs, making it pretty
obvious I could have her.

SHBMindBody mentions a "perfect" boyfriend (like she'd have anything else), but
HBMindBody lets drop she's single (hint hint). I ignore this and get into it with
SHBMindBody over the beauty premium(looks bias), and she starts defending her
"inner qualities" and how there's more to her than her looks. I say I know this but that
doesn't change the rest of the world. HBMindBody starts snickering because I think she
wanted to say this stuff to her friend but never had the nerve. Both were REALLY nice,
but SHBMindBody was a bit of a princess.

I change the subject to their studies, and learn that they're graduate psychology students,
specializing in "mind-body medicine." It's fucking ON after this because part of that is


399
studying hypnosis, and they just LOOKED like they'd be into being funky with it. I'm
moving the convo in that direction, everything is going great, and then BikeDude comes
in after locking his bike outside, wearing his bike-riding clothes. Fucking jerk PLOPS
down at the table and starts AMOGing me immediately by pretending to be my friend.
Never said FIVE words to the guy in three years as an acquaintance, and now he's acting
like we go way back. I play it cool but it's impossible because he's making minor shit up
about me, just enough to try to make me seem uncool. Got sick of it and walked, telling
the pair I'd catch up with themagain if they were in the venue.

This was like DweebDude with a little game. Very little.

Ray


Welcome to the NFL. Play at this level, and you will get slammed to the turf.
Repeatedly. A high-level Sorceress, completely unavailable to all but the most unreal men.
HBMindBody was another sorceress, but didnt even measure up to Le Club. All other targets
were interchangeable at this point. I had developed the same bad habit as TrustFundDude, by
becoming almost indiscriminate in my targeting, as happens when one fires at will.


The reader should note that I did not open this pair, and could easily have wound up
shot down if I had. With my CUPID rating almost on par with theirs, this had a Battle-of-Kate
flavor to it, without the preliminary EL-II, which is why the AMOG cockroaches came out of the
woodwork. The confidence was similar to that with NHBGym, but more reserved, as outlined in
the previous report, and that paid off. pharmaceutical-grade women check out every guy on
their radar, lest they overlook a winner. They tend not to rely on third-party intel, because they
see all third-parties as beneath them as well. This risk-free tactic conveyed the right mix of
confidence and target-opportunity, and got the set to open me.

I should have trusted the sorceresses to vaporize my rivals, but they were actively
AMOGing me, so I just cut my losses. The real problem was the L-I venue, which lends itself to
this problem, a more evolved version of the cafeteria-date with Kate. In nine years, my target-
quality had not suffered one iota, and I was still achieving L-II isolation with super-elites, not at
all bad for a twenty-seven year-old feral PUA, with unstable finances, who lived with his mom
(and was hawt!).

Report-Seventy-Seven-Mo-Skillz-Mo-Haterz-(Full-Text)


400
Field Report Seventy-Eight:
The Author Gimmick

That Lose Weight would debut the author gimmick was planned, but how this would
occur definitely was not:

DATE: May 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: LR: SHBRegionalRail Has A Week To Kill
NOW PLAYING: Because The Night, by 10,000 Maniacs
IN THE NEWS: Purists Decry Celebrity Book Deals As Industry Death-Knell

Is this even a game anymore? Another EMPTY NETTER!

Wrote this BOOK on weight-loss, bodybuilding, and American society's obsession with
looks, as is the trend. Took six copies of the manuscript up on SEPTA/NJTransit (to
save money), and spent the day walking around. Trip cost me like thirty bucks, about
the same as the postage.

Not dressed to impress anyone (I was basically a messenger), nothing happens until I hit
the SEPTA R7 train fromTrenton back home to 30th Street Station, about a 45-minute
ride, plenty of time to #close SHBRegionalRail (9.2), an eighteen year-old Brazilian
who was riding her momback to the airport, and who's in town for another two weeks
after that. They're sitting across the aisle fromme, one row in front, at the front of the
car, when SHBRegionalRail DIVES into the seat in front of me, to start reading the
SEPTA map. I know she's bullshitting, so I just let her keep reading until she strops
fronting, then she plops her head over the headrest of the seat in front of me, making
direct eye-contact fromlike eight inches away, WITH HER MOM ONE AISLE AWAY,
watching. A little forward but I'mnot complaining! Mom was an FHB (7.3), late-
forties. Something about South-American chicks I just love. They treat men really well
too.

Using broken English, she explains that she's going back in two weeks, after she finishes
up here (school I think). I ask if she's been to center city or South Street and she says
once, but it was raining (just like the day I went up). Offered to call her and meet up "if
I have time" (yeah right), so she's #closed. Momis smirking but not giving me shit at
all, guess I still have that nice-guy vibe. Book had me all pumped so maybe it was the
testosterone.

Call her up when I'mbored, and have her meet me at the Oyster House (16th and
Sansom), take her to dinner (I paid), then to Oscar's for drinks. Isolated to a booth in the
back, did some hand-massage kino, got a makeout with a lot of groping, but she puts up
LMR about how she's going home and not coming back blah blah blah whatever. Give
her the are-you-fucking-serious look and that was that. Next thing I know we're at her


401
place. Came home twice to get changes of clothes and some money and food. Man
those South-Americans can fuck.

I'mthe good-looking COCKY ASSHOLE I used to hate. So fucking cocky. But I
should be!

Ray


Another lay scored because I wasnt trapped in an office during business hours.


I would have been curious to see Kates or the OTLs reaction to my new look. If ever
there was a time to reconnect, this was it.

Report-Seventy-Eight-The-Author-Gimmick-(Full-Text)


402
Field Report Seventy-Nine:
Vaporized By SHBParalegal

Every man has his limitations. Meet mine:

DATE: May 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: FU: Stalled w/SHBParalegal
NOW PLAYING: Rebirth Of Slick, by Digable Planets
IN THE NEWS: Gingrich Promises Contract With America

Okay, I'mno longer cocky. Couldn't get ANYWHERE with SHBParalegal (9.7), a
pacific-northwest transplant who landed a plumjob (surprise) at the lawfirmthat hired
me as a secretary (REAL surprise!). Was running out of cash frommy win last fall so
went back to the stability thing. Second batch of resumes landed this job, with shit pay
($18,000.00 a year, 9-5 hours), but it's LEGAL EXPERIENCE, and the kind of job
EVERY hot chick can get just by showing up, if she even wanted it, because they can do
better (like SHBParalegal). I'mway overqualified, but a paycheck's a paycheck, and I'm
not responsible for shit, so I just pass the days at my desk.

HBLegalSecretary (8.3) is my age, been working at the firmsince high-school (all-girl
catholic school), runs the office with an iron fist, and mostly does parallel work. She
works for one partner, I work for the other, a guy who used to work at the firmthat had
me in its word-processing pit; small world. J ob is VERY tedious, but the day goes by.
HBReceptionist (8.2) just moved here fromupstate (she's black). Told her she'd make
more at UPenn, with full benefits (none here to speak of), and strong diversity policies.
She mock-flirts but likes talking about the "game" and the guys in her life mostly. Think
she's got a sorta-serious boyfriend. She throws fake IOIs a lot and asked me to test my
"pickup lines" on her but I declined. Only one I'd fuck fromhere is SHBParalegal but
that ain't happening anytime soon, for me or anyone else here. She's all new-agey and
into yoga/meditation, even likes to talk about it, but I don't nibble since that would
complicate my paycheck.

Lunch and after work are cool. Spend a lot of time after work downtown, and why not?
Got the looks, might as well flaunt it while I'mstill young and single. Got fuck-buddy
options all over the place (mostly HBs), and exercise themsometimes. Locust Walk is
like a fucking NIGHTCLUB on the weekends, anytime I just toss on the skates and go
for a spin. Getting some NASTY reactions when I ignore IOIs fromthe lesser chicks
(NHBs) and especially the hotter ones if I'mbusy. They like FREAK OUT if you don't
pay immediate attention when they want you to. Yeah where were you before I started
lifting weights fuck that. They call ME shallow but why aren't they crying to the short
fat guys? Fucking hypocrites.



403
One day I'mgonna be old and reading these words and think "what a fucking arrogant
piece of shit," and I'll be right. I AM arrogant. Cocky, and all that too. Total fucking
jerk, just because I can get away with it. No such thing is fucking up when you're hot.

Ray


Another sorceress, out of my price range, my Emo range, and my everything range. One of
the few targets still truly out of my league, but also out of every other mans. Prayer game seems to work
best on this Magic Hottie.


If I had the lay here, I wish she would tell me, because Id like to know how, or why.
Assuming I didnt, nothing would have changed that, barring a miracle or five.

Seventy-Nine-Vaporized-By-SHBParalegal-(Full-Text)



404
Field Report Eighty:
My Second World-Class Bootcamp

Wanting to apprentice under the tutelage of a master PUA is not specific, or new, to the
community. An hour after I met this one, I knew I had found my guru, one with an ideal price tag:

DATE: J une 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: FR+++: Got A New mPUA Wing!
NOW PLAYING: Stay, by Lisa Loeb
IN THE NEWS: OJ Surrenders After White Bronco Chase Paralyzes Nation
TARGET CARDS: Queen of Diamonds/Clubs

Met PonytailDude, my new wing, at "Coffeehouse #6" (first five closed down), on 20th,
just off Walnut. It's fucking POURING again, for like three hours, so I ducked in out of
the rain, and saw himSTUDYING chess. I see he's serious so I offer hima chess lesson,
and we get to talking. My first lesson is three hours and brutal; if they survive, they go
on to be strong players, and he was eating it up, realizing he didn't know shit about the
game. He got sick of losing to his social circle, or in coffeehouses, and wanted to
improve. I taught him the Muzio Gambit (White sacrifices a piece for a huge attack on
move six), and that woke himup. Schooled himlike any other student, and he'll be
tournament-ready in a month or so if he wants, but I doubt he'll bother.

He's got a live-in girlfriend, an NHB (7.5 or so), very nice, and says he's a "reformed
player." He said a few years ago some SHB broke an engagement, and broke his heart,
then he just fucked everything he could for two years (like thirty-plus SHBs). Now he's
off the market and the chicks are all over him. It's fucking MAD!! While we were
playing, two HBs (8.5 range) start giving us IOIs, which he notices through the
MIRROR, without even looking at them. Gives me a rundown on their "type" and the
correct way to game them(says just keep ignoring themsince they're already into us).
Sure as fuck, ten minutes later the slightly hotter one opens us, and he #closes them "as
friends." Invites them to a house party he's throwing next weekend.

We made a deal: I'll teach himchess in return for himteaching me about women.

Ray


This jam session combined my dusted-off alpha gimmick, with my second extended
bootcamp that would fetch five-figures on todays market. In what would become the
community tradition, we immediately began comparing notes, and winging, during the three-
hour torture of my initial chess lesson, an exercise designed to humiliate the student, to the point
of him (or her!) wanting to quit. PonytailDude survived the lesson, and would go on to defeat
some AMOGs who had been attaching intellectual inferiority to his losses. In return, he shared


405
his PUA playbook, no longer in use, after two years of madness, followed by an inexplicable
NHBFianc. Teaching me was his way of remaining in The Game without having to stray from
his beloved. His ability to pull, particularly into and from an EL-II, was inspiring.


The poor guy married his DupliKate. His heartbreak from his Kate was something
he wouldnt even talk about, but said it cured him of his looks obsession. After further
review, I say he just wimped out, and perhaps all his Kate was, was an RSHC, and not a truly
pharmaceutical-grade woman. He certainly could pull super-elites anytime he wanted, but he
had just lost his taste for them, instead choosing an NHB he could easily dominate. A pathetic
example of settling, one for which I have even less sympathy now.

Discuss this chapt4er on our forum:
Report-Eighty-My-Second-World-Class-Bootcamp-(Full-Text)


406
Field Report Eighty-One:
Phone Game Simplified

No different than ordering up a pizza, if you know how:

DATE: J uly 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: LR: HBPersonals
NOW PLAYING: Stay, by Lisa Loeb
IN THE NEWS: Republicans Push For Pro-Business Securities Reform

Met HBPersonals on a phone personal that was doing beta testing, and was free for like
a month. Met HBPersonals (8.2) over their system. She loved my impersonation of
Casey Kasemhosting America's Most Wanted, and lots of other chicks say I sound
EXACTLY like him. It's a funny, original bit that gets a lot of laughs, and now a lay!
Chicks dig the WEIRDEST shit but whatever works. We talk for about a month, did
some phone sex fromthe second call, but I stopped it a week later telling her I want the
real thing. She puts up LMR and acts scared of meeting (not meeting me, just getting
close). She works as a fulltime nanny so she's got lots of time to kill and she's isolated
(why she was on the personals). Nice little system they got but I wouldn't pay full price
(It's gonna be $0.69 a minute when it launches).

Ran the hypno routines on her, got her into it, put her under over the phone, which
freaked her out, but not enough not to come and meet me at the train station and then
drive me back...and cumwhen I drove her back. Tranced the SHIT out of her, then
made her cumthirteen times, counting them off. She's enthralled. Fucked her three
times since, but she wants a relationship so I may have to cut her loose. I can do better
anyway. Ray


If you can handle the obvious risks (liars), the convenience cant be beat, and the free
phone sex, if you want it, conserves capital. The hypnosis gimmick is ideal for extended phone
game, but any EL-II, and patience, will usually do the trick.


Internet social-networking, including video and photos, has made most of the above
concerns obsolete. Im amazed there are still phonesex operators who refuse to verify looks.

Report-Eighty-One-Phone-Game-Simplified-(Full-Text)


407
Field Report Eighty-Two:
Female Boss Has The HOTS For Me

Not the L-III hots! I was hired on the spot:

DATE: J uly 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: HIRED By NHBAttorney!
NOW PLAYING: Carnival, by Natalie Merchant
IN THE NEWS: Phils Sink Further Out Of NL East Contention.

This was a J OB INTERVIEW, not a field report per se, but she's cute and we have a lot
in common so who knows. Don't mix business with pleasure much but this is part-time,
just me and her. NHBAttorney (7.1) is well-preserved, in her thirties, and a "big firm
reject" who didn't make partner, so she set up her own practice. She calls me up in
response to my situations-wanted ad in the Legal Intelligencer, and offers me the job by
the end of our ninety-minute interview.

The pay SUCKS, but the job is so COOL, and a great resume-builder. I'mthe secretary,
paralegal, and ADMINISTRATOR of "the firm." Get to build it fromSCRATCH too.
All that for $9.00 an hour LOL. That jumps if I make it a year here, or if business
grows. Not sure what'll happen with the "target," but the "boss" is pretty damn cool.
We get along GREAT.

Ray


The beauty premium in reverse, replete with easy interview, followed by immediate
offer.


This job was integrating nicely with the internet, which developed much more slowly
than I had anticipated. With a Mulligan, I would have kept this job a few more years. The low
pay rate meant quitting didnt hurt too much, but running a law office was a good resume-
builder. My title was not secretary, but the more gender-neutral administrator.

Discuss this chapter on our form:
Report-Eighty-Two-Female-Boss-Has-The-HOTS-For-ME(Full-Text)


408
Field Report Eighty-Three:
PonytailDudes Party Game

To think I considered The Battle of Kate ingenious:

DATE: November 1994
FROM: Ray (Age 27)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Another PonytailDude Party Lay (SHBBrooklyn)
NOW PLAYING: Here Comes The Hotstepper, by Ini Kamoze
IN THE NEWS: America Questions Fine Print Of Contract With America

There are parties, and then there are PARTIES. I think PonytailDudes was three-to-one
female. Not a UG in the house, and only a few NHBs. Everything else was SMOKING.
Selecting a target was easy: SHBBrooklyn (9.4) is in town for the weekend with her
friend, makes eye contact (definite IOI), I approach, open with "hey" and we're talking.
I ask her about NYC, she says she's a cocktail waitress (no shock there). She had a
PORSCHE parked outside, and was staying at the house. She knew PonytailDude from
NYC and he arranged for the party and the roomfor her. We isolate there and the kino
escalates instantly. I do the hand-massage/hypno thing and she starts melting, then we
fuck for an hour or so, but I'mbeat froma long week so I bail out and head back home.
How PontytailDude stays loyal to his fianc is beyond me, but maybe he's all "played
out." He must have been something in NYC. Ray


Parties were the payoff for the MEL-II that PonytailDude cultivated. He did once
mention that his fianc (who then became his wife) was an amazing neg, due to her relatively
plain appearance. Since he just collected his EL-IIs, putting them all in one place at one time
made getting laid within the fallout zone easy, like the way one imagines the Playboy Mansion
on a good night. Parties had several advantages over bars, all of which became apparent, most
notably the ability to venue-change without leaving the venue. \


I might have hung out more with PUACousin; his celebrity parties were like this.

Due to time constraints: what you read about from the last half of 1994 doesnt do
justice to the results. I was cultivating live targets almost every time I left home.

Report-Eighty-Three-PonytailDudes-Party-Game-(Full-Text)


409
Field Report Eighty-Four:
How To Hypnotize A Hot Chick

This date had a kind of perfection to it which had previously escaped me. It combined
several previously separated elements from my previous targets:

DATE: May 1995
FROM: Ray (Age 28)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Hypnotized The SHIT Out Of SHBRaver
NOW PLAYING: Hand In My Pocket, by Alanis Morissette
IN THE NEWS: Baseball Strike Leaves Bitter Taste In Fans' Mouths

When an SHB says "hypnotize me," give her what she wants, but make her BEG for it,
or ANTICIPATE it, so she goes half-under while waiting. Met SHBRaver (9.9)
ONLINE, had the lay in the bag by the time she drove up yesterday. Never even asked
for her pic. Didn't have to, it was obvious fromeverything she said and did that she was
SMOKIN HOT.

Pay attention: this is money if you do it right. You better be a DAMN good hypnotist to
pull this off, though, so its not for the newbies. Practice on some NHB or UG and work
your way up if you have to. With an SHB, you have to be INDIRECT, making it so she
WANTS to be hypnotized, and shes CONFIDENT you can get her under. In other
words, DONT BREAK THE SPELL. You will get ONE CHANCE to fuck her.. Dont
mess it up!

Step one is getting her to talk about hypnosis and know you do it. AOL takes care of
that for me because I put it in my profile. She says it sounds funky and shed like to try
it, so I whet her appetite over the phone, telling her about other chicks Ive hypnotized,
and how I could make them do anything, without being too specific. This turns her on,
and I know shes being reeled in. The next step is to get her to ask me to hypnotize her,
which I did by waiting her out. Once shes aware of the possibility if she wants it, shell
ask for it, or hint in a way that makes it easy to offer it. Fromthere, you dont want to
appear HUNGRY, instead like a spider trapping a fly. Remain CONFIDENT of your
ability to get her under, but only IF she works with you, and really wants it. What I do is
tell her that I cant make her go under, but I can performhypnosis and shell go under
if she tunes in, kind of like listening to poetry or music. Youve GOT to set it up so if
she doesnt go under, its not your fault, just bad timing, or she wasnt as focused as she
might be later, etc. Sometimes it just wont work, but if youre good you should succeed
60 percent of the time completely, and about 95 percent somewhat.

Once she lets you put her under, TURN ON THE GAS. Dont let up until shes
COMPLETELY UNDER, unable to move or think, to where you can make her
hallucinate,, like a stage-hypnosis subject. You start slow but build a rhythmthat draws
her mind in deeper and deeper until she doesnt even realize shes slipping away, just


410
like they do on stage. A massage class doesnt hurt either, since that can relax her
physically, making her much easier to hypnotize, plus you already got the kino going
that way. If youre GOOD, and you get her under your control, just be creative with the
roleplay, and go to town, as she is EXPECTING you to, since she asked for this
UNIQUE EXPERIENCE. Most guys will be tranced out just LOOKING at her, so if
you can achieve this level of CONTROL, over yourself, and her, youre IN, and she
WILL fuck you. The hypnosis part is easy compared to learning not to be intimidated
by perfect-looking chicks. Once you get to talking to her, shes already accepted you
and doesnt think shes out of your league, especially if you have something like this to
offer.

The GAME in this is setting up the experience. Once you do that, its just a NUMBERS
game. Sixty percent of the time, I get total control, like I did here.

Ray


This consolidated report marked my separation from PonytailDude, and reversion to
my primary weapons, since he was getting married soon, and the bootcamp had run its course.
Years of polishing my favorite L-III gimmick continued to pay off, even better than before, due
to my continually improving technique. Ferality is crucial here, because hypnoseduction tends
to happen very quickly after the h-bomb is dropped on a live target, even in L-II.


Today its even easier to deploy this amazing L-III gimmick online. You can post a
video that hypnotizes the viewer directly, or put videos of you hypnotizing others online, and
drop mentions of it on your social-networking pages, and amaze your friends!

Enterprising readers who seek hypnotic PUA inspiration should check out videos of
Tony Kamo, who has hypnotized well over a hundred super-elites on Spanish television over the
years, and who has a rather large cult following on YouTube, of men who want to achieve but a
fraction of his success. The ability to convince a target to let you hypnotize her, and the ability
to provide a complete, genuine hypnosis experience are equally important in pulling off lays like
these.

Report-Eighty-Four-How-To-Hypnotize-A-Hot-Chick-(Full-Text)


411
Field Report Eighty-Five:
Love And Basketball IV

A high-percentage, three-point shot at this basket materializes:

DATE: J une 1995
FROM: Ray (Age 28)
SUBJ ECT: FU: Hakeem AMOGs My Online Game
NOW PLAYING: You Oughta Know, by Alanis Morissette.
IN THE NEWS: Susan Smith Held In Drowning Death Of Her Two Infant
Children

ARRRRGH this SUCKS! Bet the WRONG TEAM to win the NBA Finals and now I
can't fuck SHBWitchy (9.6), this AMAZING chick I met on AOL. She's fromOregon,
right near Nevada, where I would be MOVING to right now if only the Magic hadn't
blown a 20-point lead in Game 1, then a four-point lead at the end of game 1, thanks to
four missed free-throws, then gotten their asses SWEPT by the Rockets. They have
fucking SHAQ! He's UNSTOPPABLE! Word is Shaq's going to LA so they can win a
title.

Met her over AOL about two months ago. Got an INTENSE phone thing going. She's
like really into hypno, but had me teach her how to do it to others, and to me! Fucking
COOL SHIT. She's like really good at it too, exceptionally hot (unless she's lying but
she's got dozens of pics), twenty, and wants to hook up if I move out west. I had about
$1,400.00 saved up, decided I needed $1,700.00, so I bet $300.00 on Orlando, and left it
up to "fate." FUCK! This one is SO damn smart and nice, and loyal too. J ust wants to
find the right guy and fuck his brains out in an LTR. She did that after I couldn't come
out there. Her new guy even IMs me to thank me for teaching her hypno.

All is not lost: things are going well here. Been hitting up some center city
coffeehouses, all of themare target-rich, and getting some play, mostly HBs and some
SHBs. The NHBs are EASY and all over me, but I just ignore themand they get pissed
but don't want to piss me off so then they act hurt. Must suck being a chick who's not
that hot but oh well.

Pulled a #close of SHBWindow (9.5) in front of her MOTHER, who's downstairs while
she's opening me and sending IOIs fromher bedroom window. I get permission to take
her out on a real date LOL. Told her momI'd have her back in time but if I might marry
her. Momis like "don't get my hopes up" but she's just kidding. I'mfucking TWENTY-
EIGHT and a seventeen year-old's momwants me dating her daughter J esus Christ.
AOL is a fucking GOLDMINE right now. Center city isn't bad either. Things are just
going well.

Ray


412

This was a tremendous loss, since the target was comparing favorably with Le Club.
Her hypnosis skillz were just plain wicked, and shed have made an amazing, loyal wife. She
was clearly husband-hunting when we met, and her hypnotic probing couldnt be beat. She
also had that same no-man-left-unsatisfied attitude I had found in Le Club and MomOfClubs.
SHBWindow kind of freaked me out, because her mom either wanted to get her out of the home,
or knew better than to even attempt to halt my progress.


The handicapper I am now might have been more partial to the Rockets for my bet..
The PUA I am now would have hopped the next plan for this Pharmaceutical-grade, Ace of
Clubs sorceress, the only one I would ever encounter, an even sexier version of Le Club, and a
younger version of her mom, all rolled into one.

Of ALL targets referenced in this text, if I had to choose one, preserved as she was
when I met her, I would choose this one without a third thought, the second going to Le Club.
When I speak of Le Club as the perfect wife, that acknowledges our real-world connection, a
formality we had yet to cover, but a relatively minor one, since my looks were not scaring any
online targets away at this point. I was extremely fortune to have taken up bodybuilding just as
this amazing, global target-pool had opened up. This makes her, based on her hypnosis skillz,
super-elite ranking, and desire for me (our EL-II was rock-solid, and she routinely went to L-III
with hypnosis over the phone), officially the one that got away.

Report-Eighty-Five-Love-And-Basketball-IV-(Full-Text)


413
Lesson Twenty-Nine:
First In Wins

The title refers to a financial-market commentary on the advantage of being a first-
mover into any internet space, like Amazon, eBay, and Paypal, yet many other juggernauts, like
Google, were late entries. In 1995, the internet was truly up for grabs, and I was one of many
millions attempting to grab it. Several years, and many miscalculations later, I was in the
process of rebuilding, when Foxes and 29 Reasons dropped, and would go on to make some
money selling e-books and other published material online, as well as securing freelance gigs in
the new medium as well. From 1994-1996, however, e-commerce was embryonic, and some
spectacular fortunes were built, almost overnight, by those smart and lucky enough to make the
right moves.

The seduction communitys first mover was Ross Jeffries, with his Speed
Seduction product line. Ross was ultimately the catalyst for the creation of ASF, a group in
which he had no commercial rivals until late 1996, when R. Don Steele, George Sodinis guru,
arrived, igniting a flamewar against the SSers, which Jeffries ultimately won, on a relatively
minor legal issue (republishing SS list newsletters). As I had gone online mostly for
PowerBase, my interests were in promoting the PowerBase software, which I was gearing up for
retail distribution, its ratings newsletter, and its selections, all of which seemed to offer potential
as an internet business. I was correct on all counts, but had failed to realize that what I thought
was a steadily growing internet, was but a jungle, offering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for
the first-movers. My decision to take it slow with PowerBase, by delaying its launch until
September, 1996, would prove fatal. (PowerBase is still a working program, its output as
accurate as ever. To be fair, attempts to outlaw internet gambling, were the ultimate problem,
but being a slowpoke did not help.

The internet graveyard is littered with first-movers who squandered their advantage:
Netscape, Prodigy, and even Yahoo!, were once dominant, only to lose their advantage to an
upstart, but the most egregious case of squandering a lead in internet commerce has to be AOL.
From almost thirty million subscribers, in late 1996, in a few short years, AOLs user base
would become but a footnote, as the web systematically adopted its features, and business
platforms, all of which were in its possession as far back as 1994. This includes payment
processing (Paypal), keywords (websites), secure e-mail
17
message boards, and, since everyone
could have been using the same ISP, search (Google). Instead, AOL hoarded its technology,
made it ridiculously expensive to do business on their service, and terminated the accounts of
regular users who commercialized, thus stifling economic growth and future tax revenue,

17
At the time, AOL-to-AOL email was delivered instantly, while inter-ISP mail could take hours or longer. The
perishable nature of gambling information made AOL the only reliable distribution channel, an effective monopoly.
AOL policy, however, did not allow commercial use of the system, a rather clear Antitrust violation, one which
cost our government tax revenue (dont worry, not like were in debt), and harming our economy (not like it needs
jobs). At the time, smug idiots would say things like go start your own ISP. AOLs power trip would lead to its
downfall, once an alternative surfaced, but this took several years.


414
which would ultimately inflate our national debt, and increase unemployment, by all the new
jobs they were stifling.

Distribution Is King

The exception to the first-in-wins rule occurs whenever Big Media crosses over, or
elects to play internet kingmaker. After the internet had spawned the commercial machine, into
which the seduction community had morphed, The Game and VH-1s The Pickup Artist, not
only made millions of dollars for mainstream media outfits who had ignored its message for
years, it made brand-name gurus out of Strauss, Mystery, and even the lovable loser
contestants on the reality show, men who began charging $2,000.00+, per student, per
weekend, despite, according to their own words, having failed miserably as recently as one year
prior. They can run, and even teach, game, but internalizing it generally requires firsthand
experience, rather than parroting by some copycat guru.

That the public has no difficulty with betting its future sex life on distribution,
purchasing products and services because a website built a large following, rather than gave
them the correct advice, is anathema to the independent-thinking required to achieve superior
results. Distribution, or lack thereof, is the only reason I have waited many years to drop this
new theory, because, until now, I had little incentive to do so. I was never really concerned,
because I knew this day would arrive, but am surprised it took until 2010, rather than 2000, or, at
the latest, around 2003, when I figured the Red Queen would be done spreading the word.

Even now, the internet offers amazing ground-floor opportunities for a new generation
of first-movers, but the internet itself was being built out back in the mid-1990s, offering a
frontier even todays robust creative environment cannot match. It truly was an amazing time,
and one reason I practiced internet lifestyle integration, by moving my business, and much of my
game, into cyberspace. I wasnt sure when the future would arrive, but after a lifetime spent
playing catchup due to a late start with computers, I vowed to be ahead of the curve. It would
prove to be a very long fifteen years before I could properly cash in on my head start.

On a completely unrelated note, my political separation from most of humanity
intensified, as I began getting multiple confirmation of the beauty premium, either via firsthand
accounts from online targets, many of whom would go online all day, while pulling down
$50,000.00+in Manhattan, or Id see attorneys or other executives hunting for office whores
online, sometimes with verifiably legitimate offers. Sometimes, when bored, Id go online as a
female secretary, which led to requests for taking dicktation, cater to some fetish,
18
or just serve
as a loyal corporate hired-gun. Not all offers were legit, but many were, and would wind up

18
Somewhere in the past ten years or so, it became acceptable for females to wear open-toed shoes to work,
something only strippers and prostitutes used to do. One-third of men have a foot fetish, with the new fashion
trend baking this into the employment numbers, to where pretty feet are actually a job skill on par with almost
any other, for female applicants. Youd think knowledge of the fetish would preclude waving the red cape in front
of the bull, yet the opposite behavior (exploitation) seems to occur.


415
filled by some Letterman support-staff type. Seeing Manhattan secretaries my age, with half
my skills, and $300,000.00+nest eggs, for which they needed investment advice, further
underscored just how much money is at stake, and its very strong impact on game.

I had made the best of a bad situation, but no thanks to anyone other than Mom, and
only managed success after years of persistence which should never have been necessary.
Sometimes, I would get the most patronizing advice, either to upgrade my office skillz,
which I had done for years, thinking that was the problem, and then becoming increasingly
negative, as I eliminated the other explanations for my resume. The internet offered an escape
from looks bias (in the pre-social-networking era), gender bias, and everything else wrong with
traditional employment, but it was rough going in the early years, due to the undeveloped nature
of the medium.

Discuss this chpter on our forum:
Lesson-Twenty-Nine-First-In-Wins-(Full-Text)


416
Field Report Eighty-Six:
All In The Family

A different type of mitochondrial mess:

DATE: J une 1995
FROM: Ray (Age 28)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Intense Hypno Phone Sex with HBMafia
NOW PLAYING: This Is How We Do It, by Montell J ordan
IN THE NEWS: Rockets Sweep Magic In NBA Finals

I REALLY didn't want to have to throw this one back. Chick is IN LOVE WITH ME.
Figures the ONE chick who likes my "integrity" (and everything else about me) is
directly related to a MAFIA FAMILY! Same surname and all! She claims she's
distantly related but those guys have a long arm. Plus if she ever gets pissed at me I
could be sunk! She didnt do this to brag, either, but to warn me because we were
getting too close.

Met HBMafia (8.1) online, and went right to the phone, then right to regular phone sex,
with HYPNO! She did the hypnotizing, and did it really well. Has a great technique of
inducing twice, so I'malready under when she begins the second time. That shit is
WILD. So's she, and that's the problem. She sends me CARDS, and GIFTS (little stuff
like ties). Even verified her looks (as much as one can online; had her take extra pics
after she sent me the first set and it was the same girl). Most mob chicks are hot anyway
but it's nice she checked out. Scoring like mad on campus when I want to, but been lazy
lately. Working on this basketball betting software for a promising online biz. Still
toying with moving to Vegas, but not with less than $1,700.00 to relocate. Ray


Meadow Soprano is not the ideal girlfriend.


Meadow Soprano is not the ideal girlfriend. Due to time constraints, I have left out
the field-report where I hypnotized an alleged Waco survivor (semi-confirmed) over the phone,
and regressed her to a past sexual encounter with David Koresh. Mo' skillz/mo' problems.

Report-Eighty-Six-All-In-The-Family-(Full-Text)


417
Field Report Eighty-Seven:
Yet Another Hypnopet

This almost counts as a relationship, but it was too one-sided for me to think of it
as one:

FROM: Ray (Age 28)
SUBJ ECT: LR+: My Own Personal Hypnoslave!
NOW PLAYING: Name, by The Goo Goo Dolls
IN THE NEWS: OJ Trial Set For Spring

Winging with PonytailDude SO paid off! Recognized an IOI I never would have before,
then converted it into a same-day lay. Keeping her around a bit, and she's not going
anywhere. She loves being hypnotized, and I love trancing her, especially with what she
does when under.

Met HB411 (8.6), an information operator (hence the name) on a bench at 30th Street
Station. I was passing through on my way downtown and had stopped to browse the
bookstores, and get some lunch. Love that venue: it's so classy, and LOADED with
high-value targets, especially when the trains are backed up, which they were due to
some power outage. That left SHB411 with nothing to do. She's talking to a guy, but I
could tell fromthe body language they weren't a couple, and just moved in. She looks
frustrated so I use that as the hook:

ME: "Let me guess. Your train's been delayed."

HER: "Three. Fucking. HOURS!"

ME: "That sucks. Since you got some time to kill, join me for a pastry and
coffee if you'd like. I'll buy." (yeah it's supplication but it works to
isolate her).

HER: "Sure why not."

<she turns to LuggageDude, says " I'll be back">

ME: "Wow, he's accommodating."

HER: "LOL he's my COUSIN! He's going back home. I just drove himhere.
That's all his luggage. I'mnot going with him."

ME: "Aha! Actually I could tell he wasn't a boyfriend fromyour body
language."


418

HER: "What gave it away?"<giggle>
ME: "You weren't nagging himand he didn't seemto care when I talked to
you."
HER: "Very funny. So where are you from?" <blah blah blah #close>

Call her up that night (TrustFundDude's recommendation is not to wait), and we get to
talking about hypnosis. Says she's always wanted to be hypnotized blah blah blah, but I
don't grab the bait just yet. Tease her a little, let her know I'mgood, but I'mvery picky
with my subjects. Hook her with that, she asks me several times how she can become a
subject, and I got her jumping through hoops to surrender her mind to me! Love running
hypno game, it's so easy when they're into it.

To save time, I offer to do a one-minute "test induction" on the phone, to see if she's
receptive. Did a rapid induction that got her under in like 45 seconds (copied a lot of
what MomOfClubs did on me). Kept her there a bit, then asked if she wanted to meet.
She's like yeah, so we meet at the center-city coffeehouse I frequent, for pivoting. She
says the phone hypno was "exciting," and wants to try it again. I tell her I need a quiet
place, privacy, no distractions, and no deadlines since I don't want to be rushed. She
suggests her place. Fromthere it's a standard mindfuck, followed by a real fuck, and
she's TOTALLY into me after that, telling me she loves me, and I cool her down a bit by
saying I'mnot into commitment. She acts hurt but says she likes whatever I can give
her. Once we fucked, I began hypnotizing her on the phone almost every night. My
favorite routine was a play on her job:

ME: "Whenever I say the number 900, you will be a phone sex operator,
having just received a new call. Your operator name and personality
will change each time.'

That shit is POWERFUL. She'd become a killer phone-sex operator (she already has the
voice), but with MULTIPLE PRSONALITIES, all sexy! Been toying around with d/s a
lot lately, and hypno's been a big part of that. Got tons of online prospects for it as well,
but nothing beats the real thing.Ray


I swear, I did not get into details to whet the appetite of my pharmaceutical-grade
female readers. Collateral hypnosis is bogus!


Those private relaxation sessions are powerful. Im sure the OTL would agree.

Report-Eighty-Seven-Yet-Another-Hypnopet-(Full-Text)


419
Field Report Eighty-Eight:
Motherfucking Hotties On This Motherfucking Plane

Mo skillz.this is the closest I have ever come to cheating:

DATE: 24 Dec 1995 06:37:19 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 28)
SUBJ ECT: LR/FU: Met A Chick Online. Met Another On The Plane.
Almost DIED!
NOW PLAYING: Only Wanna Be With You, by Darius "Hootie" Rucker And The
Blowfish
IN THE NEWS: Stratton Oakmont Wins Prodigy Lawsuit
TARGET CARDS: Ten Of Clubs/Queen of Spaces

If fate was ever trying to tell me something, it was here. Why oh WHY does this
happen? Oh yeah, it happened because I decided to fly to Denver to hook up with
NHBDenver (6.1), a late-thirties single momwho used to model. She has a young son
and wants an LTR for stability. Great for her, not so great for me. We were getting
along great on the phone, and rather than run up our bills, I just said fuck it and flew out
there to stay with her, figuring I could come back if it didn't work out. It didn't work
out, and I came back, but just barely. What a fucking ADVENTURE.

Been holed up WAY too long at home, working on basketball stuff (it's in season), so
I've been running a lot more online game lately. Got several options, but this one just lit
up. She sends me an OLD picture of her, but warns she no longer looks like that. I sort
of care, but I've had enough SHBs that I could downgrade a bit in my "old age." She has
a nice personality, and the family thing is kind of cool, especially since her son is out of
diapers. Said she wanted me to teach himchess, but not in a pushy way. She runs a
typing business that's doing well and offered to make me a working partner. She owns a
house worth about 200k, so if I had stayed, my lifestyle would have been seriously
upgraded. Why I didn't stay is a cautionary tale for you guys: DO NOT SETTLE!!

I arrange to fly out there on the 21st (Thursday) because there's almost no hoop games
this weekend, so I'd have time to set up my software and catch up the database once I got
out there. She sends me a ticket, and I bring about $200.00 with me for the trip. She
has work for me once I get there, and I bill at a high rate, so we should do well in
business together. None of that matters by the time I get there, because of what
happened on the plane.

I "met" HBTarmac (8.3) when our plane wound up stuck on the tarmac at Philadelphia
International Airport. She's twenty and a college student in my area. I had an empty
seat next to me, and she J UMPED out of her seat, flew three rows back, and landed in it.
Talk about an IOI! I'mdressed really nicely (white sweater, slacks, shoes) , and my
confidence is sky-high thanks to NHBDenver, so I guess she found it attractive.
Because the plane is stuck, we get to talking....and talking, and talking, and talking! The


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plane winds up stuck for THREE HOURS, which totally fucks up my plans. This flight
was to Cleveland, where she had a connecting flight to San Francisco (going home for
the winter break), and I'd be getting my Denver flight. The delay turned this into a
fucking DATE!

I offer to buy HBTarmac a drink, and she accepts, but the airline GIVES us each a free
one. BONUS! We wind up with two free drinks, and start flirting really aggressively.
Minor kino; would have gone for the makeout but I was "taken." Talk to her some more,
and learn she's into NLP and hypno, and likes the fact that I amas well. Things are
heating up FAST, when the plane finally gets moving to Cleveland. An hour later, we
land, only to learn that our connecting flights have been delayed. I offer to buy her
dinner and she accepts, but it turns out the airline is springing for that as well.

Dinner goes GREAT. We wind up trading #s and she said she'd go out with me if I were
bank in Philadelphia when she got back to school (she knew why I was flying to
Denver). My flight finally starts boarding again, for takeoff around 10:30 p.m., while
hers is nowhere to be found. If my luggage hadn't been on the way to Denver, I'd have
called off the flight and turned back, especially with her having all that time to kill. I get
to Denver no longer wanting the chick I'mmoving in with. Bad news all around.

I land in Denver, and she's waiting for me. Greets me with a kiss on the lips, so she's
transitioned (that's why I asked her to do that). We go back to her place and she sent her
son away for the night, so we can fuck in private. We do, then hit the sack. By morning
I'mfelling IMPRISONED. She started acting like a girlfriend (surprise), but not in a
good way. I'mlike fuck this it's not gonna last, and she's got a kid I don't want to
confuse, so I start planning my exit. Tell her I need to get back home for some bullshit
reasons, which she knows are bullshit, and things get nasty.

I tell her I'mnot ready to settle down and mention HBTarmac -- BAD IDEA. She
bitches about the money she spent flying me out here. Yeah, whatever, can I have my
Van Halen money back? Don't think so. I throw down what's in my pocket on her table,
and she SWIPES it up, leaving me without cash until I can arrange for some to be sent to
get me home. She doesn't wait though, and KICKS ME OUT. On Friday night, before
Christmas, at fucking MIDNIGT! I got no money, just my clothes, a few suitcases, and
my bowling balls, which I wind up leaving in the street. I refused to leave at first, citing
the weather (it was SIX degrees), my lack of money, and that I didn't know Denver at
all, but she's unmoved and CALLS THE COPS. Turned out to be a good thing because
this allowed me to get my stuff back.

Cops show up and separate us to get our stories. I tell themI met her online, flew out
fromPhiladelphia, it didn't work out, and I needed to figure out how to get home.
They're like "well, you got to leave here first" so I call Mombefore they leave and tell
her to call back and raise hell if she doesn't hear fromme without two hours, figuring I
won't die that quickly. By now it's like 11:30 p.m. (2:30 a.m. EST), and NOTHING is
around. I tell the cops to call me an AMBULANCE because I could die of exposure, but
they refuse. I head out of her house with my suitcases, dressed warmenough, but with
no idea where to go. I tell myself not to panic, and remain strangely calm. A few blocks


421
later, the same two cops drive up, and finally call for Rescue, and an ambulance takes
me to Denver General, where I park in the lobby. I figure no matter what I won't die in a
hospital, and they were open.

Call Momand learn she's only got half the airfare I need. She books me on a flight
home at 11:30 a.m. PST, but I'mstuck at the hospital, with no money to get a bus to the
airport, and no idea where I can find a Western Union. The hospital is trying to find me
a HOMELESS SHELTER, and I'mlike J UST GET ME TO THE FUCKING AIRPORT!
The ER waiting roomtakes up a collection and gives me like $7.00. I use $1.00 for
candy, and it turns out the bus to the airport is $6.00, so I have EIGHT CENTS when I
get there. Got Boards on the phone around 5:00 a.m. (8:00 a.m. Eastern) and he came
through with the other half of the fare, plus a few bucks for incidentals, like FOOD (I
hadn't eaten in a day). I down two lunches, then hit the plane. Sort of sleep a little on
the way to Cleveland, get my connecting flight home, then crash around 8:00 p.m.
yesterday, getting up like an hour ago.

I go online and NHBDenver IMs me to "say hi." I'mlike "Didn't think I'd make it back,
did ya?" She didn't have much to say, but we're broken up now THANK GOD.

Guys, be VERY careful who you commit to relationships with. I could have prevented
the nasty stuff by staying at a hotel even, but I never thought she'd get so spiteful.
There's no polite way to reject or dump someone so I kind of expected some rudeness
but I think she overplayed her hand a bit.

Ray


Leftovers and damaged goods refers to divorced (not single) mothers with children,
who act as if they were still the prizes who ignored the AFCs in high-school. I had come to
resent these empty-netters, for wanting me to clean up the mess left by some jerk, and, largely
because of this experience, elected to rule out all targets over age twenty-one upon meeting me,
plus those who were divorced, or had children from another man. Without even trying, I had
found a much more appropriate target on the plane, yet another sign of the lifetime peak. Once
you hit yours, youll find targets just rolling over, even going out of their way to do so, as this
one had. Its delightfully scary. Readers should beware, however; aiming low can lead to
blowing out an already-fragile NHB, or missing the best airport sex a man could ever have had.
I had done to her heart what the OTL had done to mine.



422

Surprisingly, no regrets, even though I almost died! The experience was invigorating,
though very tiring, and, once I was safe, the memory became priceless! The world always looks
a little different when one might freeze to death in a strange city, as a homeless person. Its good
for ones ferality to gain new perspectives like this, in something beyond a simulation. The
look on your empty-netters face when she realizes youve dumped her for a trophy, prior to
even arriving at her home, on a plane ticket for which she paid, is equally.priceless.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?9232-Field-Report-Eighty-
Eight-Motherfucking-Hotties-On-This-Motherfucking-Plane-(Full...


423
Lesson Thirty:
The 95 Percent Rule

From an old episode of Alice:

MEL: When I see a woman I want, I go right up to her, and say your place
or mine?

ALICE: I bet you get your face slapped ninety percent of the time!

MEL: I do.

ALICE: Then why do you do it?

MEL: The other ten percent!

This lesson in a nutshell. If the last report didnt make this clear, heres a reminder:

Aim high. Just. Aim. High.

I actually use a 98 percent rule now, for serious pursuit, but will waive it when I need
to take care of business. The rule is simple:

If you aren't rejected 95 percent of the time, your standards are too low.

Despite the highlight film format of this text, I had countless approaches, and
responses to approaches, lead absolutely nowhere, sometimes after a target had initially gone
live, particularly during periods of alpha isolation, or in low-percentage L-I venues. Super-elites
are rarely on the market, are extremely picky, and everything must fall into place for a lay to
occur, even when the PUA has his shit together. For that 2-5 percent chance of scoring an
SHBBartender, SHBRaver, or SHBPolitics, one must work diligently, and expect rough going
during his VCABM. Over time, his PUA reflexes will sharpen, and hell find even super-elites
within reach, if he runs his game, remains patient, and refuses to settle. Scoring an NHBSkates,
an NHBDorm, or an NHBJeff, is always an option, but it pays so much better to swing for the
fences.

The Challenge Fox And The 95 Percent Rule

A good example of the 95 percent rule generating a challenge fox was HBMindBody,
who sensed the futility of attempting to attract me, in the presence of her pharmaceutical-grade
wing, but who also sensed that I could easily have been conquered over time. Despite this, Im
sure she found it novel, and frustrating, to be blown out, something I doubt happened very often.
I know if I had settled for NHBMall, instead of chasing the OTL, or dominated NHBDorm in


424
college, instead of finding community glory in defeat at The Battle of Kate, my 1994-1996
peak would have been much weaker, most likely an LTR with an RHC, whose inner beauty I
would extol, as I had with HBLatvia.

The lack of a challenge on my end, with anything other than pharmaceutical-grade
women, was converting even exceptionally high-quality targets, like HBMindBody, into
challenge foxes. The rule is also a great way to become impervious to rejecting, particularly
with returning fox such a strong tactic, especially among super-elites, who are often tied up with
the wrong man when first gamed, but who will regame once they resume their ferality. Had I
met Kate after FunDude got her, this would have landed me squarely in an EL-II, and Id have
felt no reason to terminate it, since the cafeteria-date, and The Battle of Kate, are wiped.

This learning process can be brutally heartbreaking, especially in the beginning, but
real PUA muscles are built that way, not with steroids. It takes faith, time, a massive,
consistent, effort, loads of patience, ferality, and a willingness to have ones heart repeatedly
smashed by pharmaceutical-grade women. A bent for quantitative analysis doesnt hurt, either,
particularly when one is tempted to focus on the ninety-five percent, rather than the five.

Lesson-Thirty-The-95-Percent-Rule-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Thirty-One:
Dominance And Submission (D/S)

Dominance and submission ("d/s") is a form of L-III roleplay, which can be sexual or
nonsexual. Its defining characteristic can be found in its name: the "dominant" partner, usually
called Master, if male, or Mistress, if female, completely controls the relationship (not the
partner, who is free to leave), with the fundamental tradeoff of attention for easy sex. As I
mentioned earlier, no matter who is dominant, the male is expected to pay the freight. As many
men are submissive, and few females (even dominant females) want submissive men (no
challenge), the going rate for a dominatrix is $300.00 an hour and up, in public "dungeons" that
operate as legitimate businesses, while private d/s relationships can result in much more
substantial transfers of wealth. As a switch, who can play either role, I have substantial
experience on both sides of the coin. I got into d/s for the same reason most super-elites do:
sexual boredom.

Regular d/s is not to be confused with hypnodomming, which has a completely
different protocol. For example, in "regular d/s," a disobedient submissive is punished, usually
with a lack of attention (I used to punish my subs by sarcastically by calling them "Mistress" and
then not dominating them, which they hated), but in hypnodomming, the burden is on the
hypnotist to deepen the trance, since all control flows directly from the hypnosis, rather than
conscious, willing obedience. Most hypnodommes have little respect for regular d/s, because the
submissive does not experience a blissful trance state that allows them to ignore any humiliation
(the reason stage-hypnosis shows work so well).

I personally liken roleplay d/s to root canal without Novocain, since the only
"pleasure" the roleplay submissive can take is in serving a domme, or in the humiliation she
dishes out. A roleplay domme asking me to clean her house, while wearing a French maid
costume, would not be pleasing me, but a hypnodomme with the "skillz" to get me in a trance so
deep I would do so blissfully, is an entirely different breed. I have often been "flamed" for
"feminization" content in the hypnosis mp3s I have produced, yet it was originally included as a
convincer or proof the subject is under hypnosis, and was kept there for the second recording,
because the majority of customers who bought the first were into "forced feminization, i.e., who
wanted to be gender-switched.

Roleplay D/S And Hypnosis

Hypnosis can be very effectively cloaked in roleplay d/s, since the submissive is
following instructions. Most d/s is hypnotic on some level, with subspace (ultimate submission)
having many trancelike qualities. Roleplay submission is more psychologically complex than
hypnosubmission, since it lacks the endorphin flood of a deep trance. For this reason, most
hypnosubs make poor roleplay submissives, while few roleplay dominants make good
hypnodom(me)s. After eighteen months or so on AOL, and visits to many d/s chatrooms, I
became familiar with the terminology, and the culture, in a way that would be rare today, since


426
national internet chatrooms have pretty much fallen by the wayside, as has the text-domming it
yielded, replaced now by video domming, where no one can cheat on looks, and where direct
hypnodomming (or just regular hypnosis) is now possible.

The fundamental d/s transaction is actually a very positive one:

He gives generous amounts of attention, and she never says no, except to leave.

A d/s relationship tends to be much more equal than its vanilla counterparts, because
each partner is more likely to execute their role. While I no longer practice d/s, I very easily
could, and I know how potent it is as a gimmick, but the thought of some barely-legal super-elite
taking orders from a middle-aged fat guy is a bit of a credulity strain.

If You Insist On Trying D/S

If you want to become a hardcore dominant, to where you feel like you are part of a
"scene" in the subculture, that is beyond the scope of this text. Instead, I will caution the reader
that many SHBs, even super-elites, are submissives, either only in the bedroom, or throughout
the relationship. D/s can be an excellent portal for L-III escalation, for live targets with whom
you are stuck in an EL-II, or for new targets you might run indirect game, by telling them about
other targets you've dominated. This can lead to a passive-aggressive exchange like this, from
say an EL-II.

HER: "Roger was such a jerk! I'm glad I dumped him. Any luck on
your end? New woman in your life I don't know about?"

HIM: "A few. I'm not really the boyfriend type."

HER: "Oh come on, you're great! If we weren't such good friends, I'd
probably want you myself."

HIM: "Sex ruins the friendship, so I know how you feel."

HER: "It does! Why don't men ever get this!? It's not an insult but
they always think it is."

HIM: "Yeah, well maybe it's because they figure they should be getting
laid over some dominant, controlling jerk, but they just don't get
it. What women say they want isn't always what they really
want."

HER: "So what is it you want? Hey you're not gay, are you?



427
HIM: "That's a hell of a question. Why do you ask? Trying to fix up
your brother?

HER: "No! You're not his type....just kidding! You just understand
women so well, and I don't know any straight guys that do."

HIM: "Maybe those guys already have girlfriends. Anyway, I'm not
gay, just discreet."

HER: "Ah, the mystery woman. So what do you look for in one?"

HIM: "Total submission. I'm into d/s. Know what that is?"

<she almost squirts her chair, then quickly recomposes>

HER: "You mean dominance and submission? Think I saw a website
about it once. Like whips-and-chains stuff?"

HIM: "Nah, it's not that dramatic. Ever read The Story of O?"

HER: "No. Should I?"

HIM: "If you're curious. Most of what you ask me will be answered by
that book, so you should start there first."

HER: "Hmm is that an order?"

A dominate me signal:

HIM: "Very funny, but since you put it that way, yes."

HER: "Oooh I like it! Rules!"

HIM: "If you stay, you must obey...enjoy the book."

HER: "Will do."

Now that he's become D/SDude, he can let the world do his work, since he will be
where she reports back when she's ready to practice what she's learned, and he knows this.
Meanwhile, "AFCs" and "PUAs" alike will "game" her normally, and crash-and-burn in large
numbers. This works even on super-elites, but submissive ones at that level are so rare, and so
prized, that they will not remain on the market for very long, and tend to have high expectations
of their "Masters." I coined the term passive-aggressive domination ("PAD") for "submissives"


428
who like to "top from the bottom" via selective compliance. After a while, the various
psychodramas became predictable, causing me more to outgrow d/s, much as I had professional
wrestling, which I stopped watching around age fourteen, since by then I'd seen pretty much all
of the major plotlines play out.

Considering the potential payoff of sexual control over a super-elite, d/s is an L-III
gimmick worth learning, if for no other reason than you never know when its deployment may
score an easy lay you otherwise would have lost. Some of my most difficult "learning exercises"
involve imagining my past targets as submissives. The Four Aces are most difficult to picture
this way, but targets like SHBPolitics, SHBTwentySix, SHBTakeout, SHBJulliard, and
SHBJoffrey, are not. If any of the Four Aces ever had submissive tendencies, they were well-
hidden. Kate struck me as the type who would tire quickly of the simplicity of the roleplay,
while the OTL is "submissive to Ben Franklin," and behaves accordingly. SHBDancer is
submissive to true love, but her sexual dominance is difficult to trump. Le Club, on the other
hand, I could see as a domme, sub, or switch, particularly given the way she lit up in response to
the words sexual trance. Clubs might also engage in roleplay just to accommodate their man.

Following is some advice, based on my own experience, for those who wish to attempt
domination:

1. Looks count. Yours and hers. If you are unattractive, you'll have to run
Emo game to get yourself a sub, which is actually not that difficult, since
they are attracted to the dominant personality as much as the looks or
lifestyle behind it. Her looks, on the other hand, should exceed what you
could normally seduce otherwise, to reflect the quality bump from the L-III
gimmick.

2. Go indirect. AOL caused an "explosion" in "the scene," because male
doms could DHV through their profiles, even giving hints of what it would
be like to "serve" them. The best profile I ever saw was one from a guy
who went by "KingOfDoms," and who warned his would-be subs that once
they began obeying him, there would be no second chances if they stopped,
no matter how much they begged, and that many have. I preferred to
merely hint at dominance, with one or two references to liking "pets" in my
profile. I also usually mentioned hypnosis. Later in the year, I began
combining gimmicks, with the name PsychicDom. The most effective form
of indirect game is the EL-II, made much easier to achieve, by your
common interest in d/s.

3. Calibrate! Shit-testing is rampant in d/s, as submissive targets like to make
sure their man is worthy of their submission. This seems to trace back to
the Spartan mating ritual of taking a target by force, with her submitting if


429
unable to fight off her attacker, all in the name of improving the Spartan
gene pool.

4. Peacock. A solid social-networking and/or video presence seems to be a
must these days. If you have an entire page, preferably with video, that
shows you know how to dominate a target, and have done so with high-
value targets in the past, you get a much stronger version of the boost that
effective AOL (or Yahoo, etc.) profiles provided in the 1990s. If you have
L-I strength, you can use that as a DHV, while if you don't, you'll have to
rely on your ability to dominate.

5. Develop your verbal game. Wit, finesse, creativity, and foresight (the
ability to see things before she does) all come into play, since you are the
"leader" of the relationship.

6. Do not be harsh or abusive. If your submissive attempts to goad you into
crossing the line from dominant to domineering, just let her walk. Often
this will snap her back in line quicker than if you overreact, since she can
wrongfoot you from then on, eliminating any "control" you thought you
had. The ultimate control a dominant has is over himself, not his target. He
can only enforce his rules by not participating if they are not followed.

7. Dont order her to have sex with you. Stick to L-II d/s, and you wont
find resistance. If you just say fuck me, shell terminate the relationship
by saying no. A good exercise is to imagine that your favorite female
celebrity has allowed you to dominate her completely for an evening, but
that she will walk if you order the sex too quickly. The proper sequence
is to preheat her with L-II domination, enjoy her nonsexual obedience, and
let her satisfaction increase her motivation to please you sexually. As Ive
already said many times, targets view L-III as a reward, which means the
way to achieve L-III escalation is for her to want you sexually satisfied, to
get the love she wants from you.

8. Study the culture. D/s is a peculiar subculture, where participants purport
to get along, yet are also rivals and Emosexual adversaries (targets). The
more you know about how most people perceive d/s, its protocols, and
terminology, the easier it will be to establish confidence in your
submissives, particularly first-timers, who tend to be a bit easier to conquer,
but more difficult to guide.

9. Be ready for shit-tests. In d/s, shit-testing is greatly amplified, as your
target will repeatedly test your dominance, even after submitting. On the


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upside, d/s is great practice for dealing with this major annoyance in regular
seduction.

Leverage is not d/s!! Wealthy men are dominant in their relationships with
golddiggers, as are super-elites with looksdiggers (i.e., all men). Power and roleplay are not the
same thing, though they are easily confused. Other dominant men are being topped from the
bottom by attention-whoring submissives who frequently trainwreck the dom, who can wind
up begging his amused pet if he is not careful (hes supposed to dismiss her and let her beg
her way back). I found, even in formal d/s, that my lack of reliance on protocol, freely giving
my attention without punishment except for anything major, and punishing by simply
withdrawing attention, or not dominating (e.g., sarcastically calling them Mistress and
referring to a general lack of discipline) were more effective, since it reminded the pet of her
desire not to lead, and to just enjoy my attention, as well as my desire for reliability, and an
absence of bullshit-driven rejection (they could always say no, but had to end the relationship to
do so).

In the final analysis, I was going with the AOL flow, since even super-elites were
showing interest. The novelty has long since worn off, though stray targets will always be
seeking to explore their curiosity. I eventually grew tired of the drama, the time investment, and
the repetitive, one-dimensional nature of the hookups, even though I still like the option for
guaranteed sex d/s offers, when done properly.

Lesson-Thirty-One-Dominance-And-Submission-(D-S-Full-Text)



431
Field Report Eighty-Nine:
Hypnoswitching With A Professional

I had a lot in common with this target:

DATE: February 1996
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Phone Hypnosis With NHBAromatherapy
NOW PLAYING: 1979, by The Smashing Pumpkins
IN THE NEWS: Clinton Reelection Appears Certain
TARGET CARDS: Queen of Diamonds

Met a phone-hypno partner in an AOL psychic chat I set up. Not my normal type:
actually mature (closer to my age), intelligent, refined, and she lives in Manhattan.
Does office work, normally a disqualifier, but I also stereotyped NHBAromatherapy
(7.6) as attractive based on her job-title, and wasn't far off. The jobs she has just don't
usually go to anything below an NHB. Not that anyone gives a shit about that, but it
helps to stick to the hired-gun jobs before asking for a pic, which I didn't initially. Turns
out she's pretty cute.

Like me, she likes hypnotizing and being hypnotized, so we fuck around with it A LOT
on the phone. Might meet one day, but no hurry. She's a busy New Yorker, like I used
to be, and has her shit together. Knows how to treat men well, and be a good girlfriend,
but I doubt we could stand each other face-to-face for that long. She obviously likes my
intelligence, and tends to get frustrated quickly by other men's stupidity, and mine as
well. Not sure any one man will ever make her happy long-term. She has lots of
interest, and I'mthe "writer" in her life. Also a hypno-partner.

Ray


Were we not doing L-III hypnosis over the phone, this would have qualified as PG-6.
She did not replace my target-roster, but was just a nice addition, one which didnt require me to
waste time running L-I game on random targets. She was very intelligent, well-informed,
cultured, refined, and a few dozen other things which made her attraction to me all the more
perplexing. I attributed our connection to boredom, my intelligence and creativity, and a strong,
mutual interest in hypnosis.



432

Im neutral on this one, although the hypnosis practice was enjoyable, and improved
my favorite L-III gimmick. The proliferation of sexy-hypnosis videos on the internet has
rendered this target-type obsolete. Our EL-II would continue for several years, with some close-
calls for L-III isolation, including her visiting Philadelphia on a day I had a horrible cold (she
thought I was lying and blowing her off), after which we began separating. She no longer speaks
to me, though I somehow managed to survive. Great lady though.

NHBAromatherapy would go on to internet fame as a sexy-hypnotist who went by the
name of Anonymistress. She and I would build the internet sexy-hypnosis community with
the Anonymistress recording, which I wrote, she performed, and we gave away, as a means of
raising the bar, because ours was the first, full-length, free recording, one which caused every
other sexy-hypnotist to match. The $200.00 I paid her to make the recording saved me many
times that, because I could finally evaluate other sexy-hypnotists without having to purchase a
recording. The Anonymistress recording was strong by 1990s standards, but is of too poor
quality by todays for me to distribute it.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?9742-Field-Report-Eighty-
Nine-Hypnoswitching-With-A-Professional-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Ninety:
Sealed

This is why I never let females hypnotize me, who havent first done so by audio or
video recording:

DATE: 18 Apr 1996 1039:01 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: FU++: "Sealed" By NHBHypno
NOW PLAYING: It's All Coming Back To Me Now, by Celine Dion
IN THE NEWS: Powell Weighs Presidential Run As Likely Frontrunner
TARGET CARDS: Queen of Diamonds

Man this SUCKS! Got "hypnofucked" without the sex. EXTREMELY powerful female
hypnotist puts me under the other night, deeper than anyone ever has (even
HBFriendMomor NHBHypnoMassage). We hit it off REALLY well, talking for like
three hours on the phone the first night. She's like a SORCERESS or something: been
doing hypno all her life, idolized Pat Collins, and hypnotizes just like her. I now see
why Pat is so legendary. She also had training fromone of the best hypnosis schools in
the country, and hasn't done anything else for work. Amazing skill with it. Said she
could hypnotize people in loud bars even with music playing.

So after the first trance she pulls a disappearing act. The phone session was supposed to
test out an induction we put together, that she would then record, to fix my insomnia.
Now I can't go under to ANYTHING, including the tape I was using, or
NHBAromatherapy. Noticed the difference immediately too. Gotta figure out a way to
fix my brain now. This SUCKS!!

Ray


Do enough private relaxation sessions with enough sorceresses, and one is bound to
experience the hypnosis equivalent of a faceplant. Ironically, I had let my guard down, and went
for an L-II session, because of her certification. Dominatrixes, golddiggers, phonesex
operators, and just plain psychotic targets had never given me a problem, but a certified clinical
hypnotherapist proved the danger. After the seal, NHBAromatherapy could never again get me
truly under, whereas before she had complete control over my brain, which is why the impact of
the seal was so easy to measure. The same was true of the tape (Josie Hadleys) I had been
using. My original intent was to teach NHBAromatherapy what I learned from NHBHypno, but
that would have required one more trance, which was never forthcoming.



434

Involuntary hypnotic influence seems sexy, but its not, and can be hellish. The level
of trance required to achieve it is the lure. Many PUAs wont hesitate to seal their targets,
which this one had done to me, something I would not find a way to undo for almost a decade.

At the time, I had attributed what I now know was just a simple trainwrecking, to an
OTL-style reaction to my interest in hypnosis, but I would later learn that NHBHypno had done
some similar hypnosis with a few other men online (one of whom taunted me about it), so that
wasnt the issue. When the worlds best practicing female hypnotists couldnt even dent the seal
(dozens tried), I knew I had a problem, because only a stronger hypnotist can break the seal, and
there were none. To this extent, I had painted myself into the same corner as with Kate, except
this couldnt be cured by a decision to remain single. My only option was to let nature yield a
stronger, sexier hypnotist at some point, and I was pretty sure it would take at least one
generation, which it did. Within two years, I began training my own hypnotists, but this was
doomed to failure, because one cannot throw themselves a surprise party.

My brain could only be reconquered by a woman whose talent for hypnosis exceeded
my own scripting ability, which was also decent. I envisioned this new sealer as someone who
would just come out of nowhere one day, because the existing talent pool had no answers. I
knew it would take a while to break the seal, even if I viewed this occurrence as inevitable. The
nature of sealing is such that I had no choice but to just wait until, one day, a hypnotist so
superior would arrive on the scene, that the seal would be, not just broken, but smashed.

Report-Ninety-Sealed-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Ninety-One:
Building A Submissive Harem

Babe Ruth had 1927. I had 1996. :

DATE: May 1996
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Hypnotized And Toyed With SHBSocietyHill
NOW PLAYING: Macarena, by Los Del Rio (Bayside Boys Mix)
IN THE NEWS: Perot Not Seen As Third-Party Threat This Time
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Hearts

Fuck what the books say: all hypnosis is NOT self-hypnosis. Tranced the SHIT out of
SHBSocietyHill (9.2) over the phone, after meeting her on AOL. Woke her up long
enough to have her DRIVE to me, pick me up, and take me back to her place. If I didn't
have so much damn work to do I'd have moved in with her. She's got a REALLY nice
place too, a condo on Lombard and Third. Love that neighborhood, because it reminds
me of where I grew up. Really upscale, same type of people.

I "overhypnotized" her, meaning I kept putting her deeper no matter how deep she
already was. J ust went to town on her once she started dropping. Total hypnotic
enslavement is FUNKY, especially when they allow a "no-limit session." I told her no
limits meant NO LIMITS. Hypnosis is NOT three-magic-words-and-you're-out. Have
to calibrate it like with any other target, and use a lot of indirect game to get themto
want to go under. Warned her I could make her do anything, and I did! Now she's
totally hypnosubmissive, a toy. Good release for my dominant energy after the shit with
NHBHypno, but I still can't go under at all. This is pretty cool in the meantime.


Dont let the sparse field-report fool you: I got more action in 1996 than in most years
combined. The trainwrecking by NHBHypno was at the root of this. I was dominant, had zero-
tolerance for bullshit (rejection, shit-tests), and just kept accumulating live targets, online or
offline. By the time I was done, I had no further need for proof that chicks dig dominant jerks.
The worse my behavior got, the better the target-class would treat me. It was a definite eye-
opener. I had simply decided that NHBHypno would be my last trainwreck from a female.


Get while the getting is good.

Report-Ninety-One-Building-A-Submissive-Harem-(Full-Text)


436
Field Report Ninety-Two:
My First Official Students First Official Pivot

For those who wonder how the pivot debuted, I was there:

DATE: J une 1996
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Helped My Wing Get Laid Like A Demon
IN THE NEWS: Dole Locks Up Republican Nomination.
TARGET CARD: N/A

Did my good deed for the year! Got my wingman (online) laid with some SIMPLE
advice. This was SO easy, ANY guy can do it. J ust goes to show how STUPID and
easily fooled chicks can be. Same guy, one minor adjustment, and he goes fromthe
friend zone into the PORN ZONE.

FootballDude used to play college football. He's been reading my Netgirl postings on
AOL, and IMs me for advice on what to do with this chick he "really" wants. Says they
go out AS FRIENDS three times a week on average, and she just hinted that she hates it
when her male friends try for more. Hint hint hint how subtle. He obviously needs to
shake things up with this chick, and thank god he took my advice not to make a move.
He said he was about to go meet her, when I gave himsome advice:

STAND. HER. UP.

Also said to wait until she called himto see what's up, to spring the trap. She waits from
Friday to Tuesday to call, and I tell himto tell her he met another chick (and to use the
termCHICK) on the way to seeing her, wound up getting laid, and because she was such
a good FRIEND she'd understand. He does this, and she pretends to be happy for him,
asking to meet again, as friends, of course, a few days later. My advice for that was this:

TREAT HER AS IF SHE WERE YOUR COUSIN.

He was ORBITING and she knew it. By "flying his ship" away fromher, she'd pick up
on his colder body language, and indifference to who she's fucking, and start wanting
him. So he does this, and then all fucking hell breaks loose. Next time they go out, she
brings an SHB with her, who wants him. Next time the three of themgo out, six more
show up, and ALL of them want him. He's gone through four of them already, including
a Sixers cheerleader (wait that could still be a UG ours aren't that hot j/k she's an SHB).
He's a good guy, good boyfriend, so once they saw he could "get some" they wanted him
too. Fucking LEMMINGS!!!

This ONE simple change in attitude and tactics opened FORT KNOX. He'll never look
back either, and get laid like that forever fromhere on out. He invited me to party with


437
himand his haremup in Manayunk, but I'mbusy these days and can run game just fine
on my own in center city, on campus, or ANYWHERE. Hell, I can even change the
gene pool by changing who the hot women fuck! What POWER!!!

Cool beans.

Ray


The Red Queen takes her baby steps! The power of the internet to educate men had
just been made clear. It felt good to Outfox The Fox. So good, I began doing a lot more of it,
and wound up writing some books!


When a half-dozen hotties, including local pro cheerleaders, all but served up, cant
drag you out of the house, you know you have game.

At the time, it was just an IM between two guys from the same area, with one
schooling the other on how to convert an LJBF into a pivot. The transformation was reality-
show material, enough for me to know I was definitely onto something, and that something
definitely had a huge market. I began looking at seduction-advice as more than just a hobby,
initially deciding to use Paradox to automate CUPID, in something I was going to call LoveBase,
along the lines of PowerBase, but that never caught on. What did catch on was my advice, even
as it was repeatedly getting me banned from AOLs Netgirl boards for offending women.
Without anyone realizing it, the seeds of the community had just been planted, even more by
AOL, than by me.

Given a Mulligan, I definitely would have trademarked the term pivot, since many
RHCs now list it as their occupation, and the market-value of a professional pivot is around
$50.00/hour, in most major urban areas.

Discuss this chapter here:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?9749-Field-Report-Ninety-
Two-My-First-Official-Students-First-Official-Pivot-(Full-Text)



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Field Report Ninety-Three:
Under My Thumb

The Absolut peak of my prime:

DATE: October 1996
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Three-Way Domination
IN THE NEWS: Perot Expected To Get Fewer Votes Than Last Run
TARGET CARD: Ace of Clubs/Queen Of Hearts

I AM KING OF THE WORLD!!!! Got a PAIR of submissives! Been doing "d/s"
(dominance and submission) all year, and pulling like MAD online. Offline has been
good too but I won't bring it up F2F (face-to-face) with targets I don't know are into it. I
do act MUCH more dominant in the field now, and will start being dominant if a target
responds well to the first "instruction." Shit is weird: goes against everything guys think
is true about women. Some will do whatever you tell them, just because you tell them.

Picked up HBPrison (8.2) on AOL, when she approached me in response to my profile,
which mentioned d/s and hypno. Says she likes submitting and wanted to try hypnosis.
I accommodate her over the phone that night and she's MINE. This is more regular d/s
than hypno d/s which is a little different for me, as is how I met HBPrison, in her late
twenties, and on trial for something that can send her to prison for like ten years, but
says she can beat the trap by getting her life together and delaying the trial. Good
strategy! She's all confused and needs a guy to tell her what to do. Can't even hang with
her old friends since they got her into trouble. As for how we MET....

Met SHBRetail (9.0) in a d/s chat on AOL. She's eighteen, and her family owns a few
retail stores out west. Not super-rich, but not hurting. She was sitting in the chat
watching and saying nothing, then she sent a dominate-me signal, I picked up on it,
"ordered" her into a private chat, #closed her a half-hour later, and began dominating her
on the phone. I laid down two ground rules:

1. She has to call me once every twelve hours.

2. She has to let me use her AOL account (at $2.95 an hour) to game other
chicks (she's also bi).

Now THAT'S dominance! Used the AOL time to pull several more subs and other
prospects, and to meet HBPrison, who lives much closer, and who wound up driving up
for a car-fuck (no place of my own, and not getting one for a one-timer). After the sex,
she stopped being so submissive (hinted at LTR too much), so I dismissed her. Did
several three-way calls between the pair of "pets" which was cool. SHBRetail didn't call


439
on time once, then just stopped calling, but that was cool too, really intense while it
lasted (about a month total).

Ray


During our bootcamp, PonytailDude once spoke of how he once let four members of
his MLTR harem compete against each other, and said they would just keep upping the ante,
rather than rejecting him as a cheater (it wasnt cheating since they knew he was doing it). My
decision to deliberately test his theory is what led to this outcome. With the point proven, I
wound down my practice of d/s, and with me now several months removed from my seal, I
began adjusting to the new normal of not experiencing super-deep trances, spending more time
as the hypnotist, and began seeking more vanilla interaction with the target-class. The other
problem was that my lifestyle game was shot to shit, as the failure of PowerBase to drive revenue
had become clear.


Little did I realize how quickly my finances were about to crumble, but the run was
good while it lasted. The internet jungle would not prove kind, while the basketball jungle began
letting me down, and the post-apocalyptic racetrack jungle offered no refuge. Things got very
bleak, very quickly, but I had rolled with worse punches before, like in Manhattan in 1986 and
early 1991. The loss of potential was the bigger blow, but the internet was still young, and I
wasnt going to give up on it. I just wasnt going to get rich with PowerBase, in part due to a
strong rival (ToutDude), and in part because of the uncertain legal climate, one which left my
business model still viable (legal), but which Washington was threatening to destroy, apparently
imminently.

My patient approach to developing PowerBase, on the assumption that the market
would only grow, with each new season, was fatal, because it allowed ToutDude to gain the first-
mover advantage, and become the brand-name guru for sports bettors. That he was getting
syndicate games to give out made him impossible to compete against. As it turned out, had I
just worked a regular job, and bet the games I was getting from VegasDude and ToutDude, Id
have become rich, but that level of faith in a tout is not easy to come by, especially when ones
bankroll is limited, and a super-aggressive betting strategy would have been required to fully
capitalize. For the long-term, I would turn out correct, as each source eventually dried up, but
for two years, I had access to the syndicate games. Fortunately, PowerBase had the ability to
reverse-engineer these games, and I wound up learning how to find most of them on my own,
once I realized what the syndicates looked for when choosing a team on which to wager.

The typical sports bettor is extremely stupid. All one really needs to do to become a
professional sports bettor is an extreme contrarian approach. The first time I did this on blind
faith was in an NFL game in 1997, when Tampa Bay was getting a ridiculous amount of points


440
from Green Bay, who mailed in a 13-7 win, nailing my score prediction on the nose. John
Piesen actually went one better, declaring the Minnesota Timberwolves on the road his best
bet in their first season in existence, when they covered their first eleven away games, because
everyone thought that the stronger teams would just beat up on them, when in reality, they took a
breather, won the game, and lost the bet, until the lines adjusted.

Report-Ninety-Three-Under-My-Thumb-(Full-Text)


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Field Report Ninety-Four:
Treat Your Soulmate Like A Pivot

Leave it to Le Club to properly resolve a soulmate courtship. The only word that
comes to mind is class:

DATE: November 1996
FROM: Ray (Age 29)
SUBJ ECT: FR: HBFriendSis is now SHBFriendSis, Drives 120 Miles To
"Dump" Me.
NOW PLAYING: No Diggity, by BLACKstreet ft. Dr. Dre
IN THE NEWS: Macarena Declared Officially Dead

This was weird. And oddly NICE. Very oddly.

Sent SHBFriendSis (now a 9.3) a birthday card recently, and we started talking. Ask her
out to lunch down here, and she accepts. I'mpsyched, because she's twenty-three now,
an SHB (kind of expected that), and now the right age (twenty-three) instead of the
wrong age (just shy of fifteen when we met). She shows up looking MUCH hotter than
the last time we went out, and she's dressed down to minimize attention fromother guys,
but you can't hide a body like that. She's turning into her momand then some.

I double-pivot her by taking her to lunch at this cool Thai place on South Street, which
she liked a lot. Then I take her to a really trendy coffeehouse in center city, for
maximumpivot value. We get in and go STRAIGHT to a quiet table in the back, and
the three hired-guns working (all HBs) start watching us. They could tell we were about
to have an intense relationship talk, which we did. Here's the basic summary:

HER: "I don't think it'll work between us."

ME: "You DROVE A HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILES TO REJ ECT ME?"

HER: "Yeah."

ME: "Why?"

She didn't really answer. Talk about manners. She's probably the only chick left on the
planet who wouldn't have done that over the phone. Got a nice date out of it anyway.

Ray



442

Such a true Ace of Clubs, and a sorceress! The perfect wife slips through my fingers,
and drives down to do it to my face, showing her supreme class, and respect for my feelings.
She may have been probing, and keeping a slightly open mind, but definitely didnt seem
shocked by the breakup. My pivot meltdown made the best of the negative outcome. But for a
few turns, wed have wound up married.


The AOCS is difficult enough to attract in ones prime. Hooking anything at all like
this one was at twenty-three would be an absolute miracle for me at this point.

Due To Time Constraints.

Field-reports will be reduced in frequency, to those most theoretically relevant. After
this date, it was all downhill in many ways, and I have never come close to considering
marriage to another target, except very mildly, with one. Any serious chance of my becoming
The Family Man ended here, with this Fourth Ace having finally resolved, a mere nine years
after we met.

Upon even further reflection, my biggest lesson from Le Club is that even a perfect
wife type can be lost, and life will still go on. Judging by how rapidly my game would
decline due to age within even five years, its clear that if I had wanted to cash out while on
top, this was the target with whom I should have done it.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?9751-Field-Report-Ninety-
Four-Treat-Your-Soulmate-Like-A-Pivot-(Full-Text)


443
Lesson Thirty-Two:
Financial Housecleaning

Many famous people have, or will, declared bankruptcy. Donald Trump has been
mistakenly accused of declaring personal bankruptcy, when it was just some venture to which he
was attached that wound up reorganizing. Trump did once rely on a large line of credit to bridge
some difficult times, but is now worth billions. Some bankruptcies reflect a permanent decline
in lifestyle, such as Leonard Toses, caused by the former Eagle owners penchant for Atlantic
City, and other excesses. He died in a small apartment provided by former Eagle coach Dick
Vermeil, one of numerous men in professional sports who quietly aid of their extended
professional family, in times of need. Chrysler was bankrupt, when a government bailout, and
Lee Iacocca, nursed it back to health.

Countless individuals file Chapter 7 or 13 petitions (13 lets you keep your property but
you have to pay off everything you can for three to five years), in order to move on, hopefully to
a brighter future. Those who fail to reboot their finances can go right back into Chapter 13, or,
after six years, file another Chapter 7 petition, which meant I needed to keep my house in order,
at least through 2004. Regardless of ones views on bankruptcy law, these were the rules of the
game, many of which have since changed (for instance, student debt can no longer be discharged
at all). The axe would finally fall on my solvency in early 1998.

Rather than stall my creditors, which I could have done for up to a year, or much
longer, had they not elected to go legal, I just filed a Chapter 7 petition, to wipe out all my
debts, from various long-ago medical expenses, my outstanding college tuition (so I could get
my transcript), and expenses related to my internet business. In preparation, I cut expenses to the
bone, but was still struggling. The only benefit was loads of free time, and having the
opportunity to take a risk-free shot at becoming wealthy, with PowerBase, which I would get to
keep in the bankruptcy, since the program had no proven retail value. Another advantage was
that my handicapping skillz would be retained. I had already won tens of thousands of dollars (if
not more) for my horse clients, and my selections were pulling in a few hundred dollars a month
from subscribers, until I discontinued the venture, in search of bigger game.

Thanks to the job with NHBAttorney, I prepared and filed my own bankruptcy
petition, for $195.00, and was discharged after the Meeting Of Creditors, a five-minute
administrative procedure, which was uncontested (no one showed but me). When asked for an
official reason for the bankruptcy, I gave employment discrimination, to note the permanent
damage inflicted by reverse-discrimination and the beauty premium, plus retaliation against me
for having become a whistleblower, after Anderson.

It infuriated me that a simple office job would have prevented the bankruptcy, yet the
actual impact on my basic lifestyle was minimal. The OTL was thriving in Manhattan, on jobs I
could do in my sleep (and sometimes did), which made it clear to me just how corrupt the
game was, whenever a target judged me financially, as she had. My PUA skillz were pure


444
overcompensation for this weakness, with my entire game built almost entirely around Emo
tactics. This led to higher-quality targets, under the DeAngelis doctrine of not rewarding my
oppressors, rejecting them for the same lack of ethics DeAngelis noted among what was left of
the patriarchy. George Sodinis simultaneously increasing wealth, and lengthening dry spell,
attests to the phantom strength of the AFC lifestyle. At all times, it was always easier for me
to accumulate wealth, than for him to accumulate even a fraction of a clue.

Alpha Isolation: Interim Financial Improvement

Of all forms of housecleaning, financial is usually the easiest, because it is a true
numbers game, of income, expenses, debt, debt-service, and accumulated wealth. What I lacked
in pecuniary value detracted not at all from my Emo Wealth, in the form of alpha gimmicks, the
ability to create intellectual property, employment ferality, and L-III skillz. As Sodini so clearly
proved, wealth can be accumulated much more easily than advanced Emo game. I was dead
broke, deep in debt, and living with Mom, but the courts couldnt take my game, or my ability
to win money in the future. As a loner, alpha isolation was enjoyable, because it allowed me to
be fully productive, avoid drama and heartbreak, yet still get laid when live targets materialized.
Post-bankruptcy, I began taking receptionist gigs, this time integrating my writing Foxes with
collecting the survival paycheck.

NHBAttorney had tipped me off to bankruptcy being viewed as a positive by
creditors, as it is a sign of taking responsibility, and that the worst is probably over. She also
noted the obvious: someone who has filed Chapter 7 has no debt, and cannot refile for six years.
By August, 1998, I would receive my first credit-card, with a $1,000.00 limit, and no annual fee,
after rejecting the more predatory offers (I think they are sent in sequence to trap the suckers,
then mop up the smarter consumers). I questioned the wisdom of anyone lending money to me,
but was obligated, out of self-interest, to take what was thrown my way, as it would be used to
fund my internet publishing venture, which would hopefully multiply it.

Ethics And Morally Bankrupt Targets

While bankruptcy is hardly an improvement for most, it is a last-resort for many,
including those whose incomes have been artificially deflated by injustices, like discrimination,
and retaliation against whistleblowers. The cruel world in which we live leaves little room for
redress, or even verbalization of the injustice, or its ethical implications for seduction and
relationships. Very telling was that, while I was flirting with bankruptcy, Diamonds like the
OTL were accumulating enough wealth to retire by age thirty, often with little more than the
hired-gun secretarial jobs others had so cavalierly dismissed. These targets, who knew the
Letterman score full well, would often lash out at me, particularly online, where they couldnt
shut me up as they might socially, often enlisting the aid of the very misogynist PUAs they
claimed hated women, as if the identical imputation upon me somehow justified civil-rights
violations.



445
Meanwhile, the OTL and her ilk could retain respectability, while plundering their
corporate sugardaddies, even as they attacked me as the reason my results werent matching
theirs. Im sure even a few of Lettermans office whores would have done the same, imputing
attitude problems onto me, while speaking about how they got ahead solely on skillz, relying
on general plausible deniability to attempt to fool.the one person left who doesnt know the
score, Id imagine. This is why I say continuing the EL-II with the OTL would have been
impossible, due to the inevitable career comparisons which would be drawn, and our mutual
inability to discuss our workdays. The level of denial required on both our parts would have
crushed even the otherwise deep level of open, honest communication we had demonstrated in
1984, when we were seventeen, and this was not an issue.

By far, the most eye-opening aspect of my bankruptcy was the permanent impact on
my finances, which also made permanent any workplace injustices. What made this so telling is
that, absent bankruptcy, the damage was reversible, and many trainwreckers would rely on
platitudes about how things would one day work out, yet once one realizes that their definition of
working out might include bankruptcy, its as if you realized theyd kill you if they had the
chance, that they really would pull the trigger, yet, for some odd reason, still wish to be your
friend, in case you manage to turn things around. The lie is similar to the Magic Hottie lie told
to the AFC, that things will work out, yet no one is held accountable when they dont. In each
case, the oppressor class just wants the whiner to shut up, take care of business, and
remain on good terms, in case things turn up, just like PatronDude did when he called to follow
up on my finances, after his attempted trainwrecking.

That the trainwreckers had no issue with working for, befriending, fucking, dating, or
marrying those who had violated my civil-rights was bad enough, but their attempts to remain on
good terms with me were a bit much, since it was obvious they were covering their bases in case
I made it big. As long as I knew my place, and didnt complain about anything, I was fine to
have around, but I could no longer ignore that those who might have really believed things will
work out, stood down, even as I went bankrupt! As they say, we discover our true friends in
time of crisis. Thanks to the internet, and people revealing even more of how they enforce lifes
unwritten rules, the selfish category was overwhelmingly large, filled with people who would
not be the first notified of any change in my wealth, and who were no longer those I deemed
worthy of anything, let alone marriage. Needless to say, OTL-types, and their Johns, were not
pleased.

As I said above, when someone is willing to allow an injustice they could reverse or
prevent to bankrupt you, it is as if they had pointed a loaded gun and pulled the trigger. Even if
the gun misfires, their intent can never be revoked, nor can any connection be rebuilt. For the
target-class, that meant that guys like Letterman were the winners, and guys like me were
viewed as inferior, all ethics be damned. The loss of accumulated wealth was bad enough, but
even my basic living expenses were deemed not worth protecting my ability to earn. The idea of
help from the OTL-types, or her Johns, would consist of this:



446
1. Get over it;

2. Stop whining;

3. Get psychiatric help for your hatred of women and denial about why they
get office jobs. In other words, accept that I didnt get the Letterman
secretarial job because of my attitude.

Also, my favorite, given what I chose:

4. Find another profession. Seduction guru was the one I found. Hope
theyre happy!

The more I saw people choosing wrong over right, the more clear the connection
between corporate corruption, or general selfishness, and poor relationship outcomes, became. I
started seeing patterns like this:

Post #1: Ray is a bitter, whining loser who cant get a secretarial job because
of his attitude.

Post #2: The law-office I work at just installed a stripper pole and a VIP
room.

Post #3: My husband left me for his paralegal. Why does this happen to
me!?

Polygraphs may have problems in criminal trials, but in civil cases, particularly
employment, they would be quite the eye-opener. Socially, they would put an end to much of
the bullshit regurgitated by Big Media, and those it brainwashes. Political hypocrisy aside, by
1998, I was less attempting to change the world, than to just make Foxhunting as effective as
possible, and part of this included a recommendation to avoid the corporate hired-gun, mostly for
ethical reasons. To me, it was an easy analysis, but most readers answer the following
differently:

1. Do you want to marry someone who was hired primarily because her looks
attract clients, and/or she might fuck her boss?

2. Do you want to marry someone who would stand down in cases where #1 is
occurring, to the point of committing perjury (a felony), if called upon to
testify to what she witnessed?

3. Do you want to marry someone who cares only about how much money a
man has, not whether he respects the civil rights of those beneath him?


447

4. Do you want to marry someone who would kick a man when hes down, or
cheer on a man who would? If so, you might be on top now, but you will
have seen a preview of what will happen should things go sour at any point
in your marriage.

Empirically, I had long ago adjusted to the discrimination, and my bankruptcy was but
one more consequence of that, one definitely not caused by me, because I was willing to report
to work at a proper salary, yet could only secure fractions of what my office skillz said I
should be making. Even that wasnt enough to topple me, but it did make me vulnerable to what
happened in 1996, leaving me in a position of having to regroup, file bankruptcy, and then
redouble my efforts to avoid debt at all costs. Lack of mainstream opportunity had tilted me
towards my alpha gimmicks, and had made a winning bettor out of me, most years, but 1996 and
1997 were not among those years, and the internet business stalling was just too much to handle.

With no assets or accumulated wealth, and my free shot with PowerBase having
failed, I had no reason not to houseclean, both financially, and socially. I would do what I had
been doing for years: find work to pay my bills, while using all extra cash, and extra time, to
build something on the internet that would give me a way out, and a way up. Getting laid had
not been a problem since 1982 (selectivity is not a problem per se), so game was among the
least of my worries, beyond my increasingly stringent ethical requirements, an excellent adjunct
to my ferality, since it disqualified almost every RHC+in America, although the OTL was the
only one of the Four Aces who did not meet the standards, something to be expected from an
Ace of Diamonds, since sex is unapologetically her meal-ticket.

Once bankrupt, I made the most of my fresh start through more receptionist temp
gigs, which I integrated this time, by writing Foxes while collecting yet another shitty paycheck.
Combined with the revenue from Foxes, the assignment was the highest-paying of my life, save
for the period at the CPA firm where I was winning a second paycheck. Horseplaying was
making a resurgence, with PAP beginning to take shape, and PowerBase had begun showing
increasing promise, except for the Kyl Bill threatening to make my business model illegal, I was
handcuffed. Even without debt, my earning power was still restricted to McJob wages,
another reason I could afford to be political. By blacklisting me from the higher-paying jobs,
corporate America had made me fireproof, since a lateral move was always on the board.

Any moral opposition I had to bankruptcy also faded, since I never would have wound
up in that position in anything resembling a meritocracy. Chapter 7 was just a survival
mechanism, a means of mitigating the permanent damage caused by discrimination and
retaliation. Once my case discharged, I resolved never to allow my finances to claim my
intellectual property, the one harm I sought to prevent, a line in the sand against oppression. I
could still swing for the fences, but had to become more of a singles hitter, since I would not
be able to file under Chapter 7 again until 2004, if necessary, and had no interest in a Chapter 13,
which would have been necessary to protect Foxes and my other intellectual property.


448

My internet haters, who had grown to include female office workers, fed the
stereotype of me as undesirable, for their type, not realizing I had long ago dismissed their
type, and had no reason to settle down, even if I had almost done so with Le Club, while living
the very lifestyle they were claiming I had never achieved, and from which I had voluntarily
walked, due to its gamekilling tendencies. My Kate-positive lifestyle, particularly chess, had
prepared me for my new ethical isolation, one which had me arguing against discrimination, not
because I was begging for a job, but because I was notifying the public that this was a symptom
of why their love lives were so fucked up. The combination of open hostility, financial
oppression, and general apathy, made clear to me that the Letterman problem is no accident,
something people want in place, and just dont want discussed, even online, where no one can
claim to be bothered by USENET postings they are free to ignore. What bothers them, of
course, is that others may read, and -- <gasp!> -- might not agree with them.

As my contempt for the corporate hired-gun grew, calling into question the accuracy
of my read of the OTL, my game with this target-class improved dramatically, because I had
no difficulty wrongfooting these targets, no desire to fuck them, treated them primarily as sex-
objects, presumed they had the Letterman problem, and just treated them as party-sluts, who
were primarily good for one thing, and one thing only. While Id never hire them for looks,
civil-rights laws do not govern sex, and my social stereotyping was an extremely useful target-
calibration tool, particularly as an ethical screen. I stand now where I stood then, in my belief
that minor ethical flaws foreshadow major relationship flaws, but with the understanding that the
reader really isnt going to give a shit, assuming s/he even makes this connection in the first
place. Given the quality of three of the Four Aces, and the fourth being an unapologetic
Diamond, who at least had the nerve to own her golddigging, Id say Im on the right track.

Ray Gordon CLOBBERS Saratoga!!

With August to kill prior to the 1998 NFL season, which would mark the return of
Revolution Sports, my football and basketball tout service, I decided to publish free selections
for the Saratoga meet, declaring my intention to clobber it, to a surprisingly large audience of
700-1,000 hits a day. On opening day, I listed, as my best bet, a horse named The Knight Sky, a
son of turf champion Sky Classic, who was a juicy 12-1 in his grass debut. With all of a $10.00
bankroll for the entire day, I bet $6.00 to win, with a $2.00 box of my choice and the favorite.
The Knight Sky struck the lead in the stretch, and held sway, at 36-1! This sent my ROI into
orbit, and ensured a profitable best-bet ROI for the entire meet! The next day, I would win
another $1,000.00+, enough to buy a state of the art Pentium II ($650.00), with a Spitzer or
two left over.

I would close the Saratoga experiment with a $1.20 win ROI, and an astronomical
best-bet ROI of $2.00+! My edge was returning, which meant it was time to intensify my
horseplaying, something made much easier by my no longer losing. This inspired yet another
book, How To Break Even At The Track, designed for rebated players, who turned a profit by


449
breaking even on their betting, and getting a kickback from their OTB of 4-18 percent,
sometimes as owners of the OTB. For me, breaking even meant free practice, which made
profitability an inevitability, since the average ROI among horseplayers is around $0.78-0.85,
depending on takeout and rebate. The rebate whales were becoming a stronger influence,
since their rebate-enhanced, profitable ROI allowed their bankrolls to snowball, much like it had
for Beyers disciples. Since I required an ROI of $1.17 to consider professional play, rebates
were a minor issue, though they definitely help. I had almost moved to Nevada in 1995 to claim
a nine-percent rebate, but it was discontinued.

Not Such A Random Walk

At the time, my life always seemed unpredictable, and financially unstable, yet it was
much closer to the opposite, for the areas of consistency far outweighed the volatility. I would
change jobs frequently, yet usually do the same type of work, for the same wages, in the same
places, at the same hours. My alpha gimmicks changed little from 1986, with the new ones clear
extensions of the old. In 1998, I was taking the same risks, and doing the same work, but the
income just wasnt there, and a single creditor had forced my hand. Once the bankruptcy was
discharged, I used my fresh start to reinvent my internet persona, stabilize my regular income,
and avoid debt. I was successful on all counts, but only in that I preserved my credit-rating,
and paid my bills. My card-type was still Deuce of Spades, since I lacked the lifestyle of the
King, or Ace, yet had too much upside to be considered a Jack. My Emo game allowed me to be
patient in upgrading my lifestyle, because I was still pulling barely-legal super-elites, well into
1998.

Lesson-Thirty-Two-Financial-Housecleaning-(Full-Text)


450
Field Report Ninety-Five:
Be Flexible

Not you; her! To wit:

DATE: J uly 1997
FROM: Ray (Age 30)
SUBJ ECT: LR: SHBGymnCoach Bends Her Own Rules (And A Lot More)
NOW PLAYING: Fly, by Sugar Ray
IN THE NEWS: Tech Stocks Continue Surge

Love that reverse-timetable. Same shit-test every time:

1. She says "let's wait."

2. I say "let's wait longer."

3. She says "let's fuck."

I'mwilling to wait, so I pass the test. Every fucking time. Wasnt as direct as with
HBPhD, but thats only because I knew not to make the initial move.

SHBGymnCoach (9.6) is in PERFECT SHAPE, plus she's an ex-gymnast herself
(NCAA). She coaches kids somewhere around here, and pretty much keeps to herself.
Met her at Cavanaughs (sports bar) while I was watching eating my meal. She sits
down across fromme, asks if I'mwatching the game, and what the score is. Says she's
fromNYC and likes the Mets (they were playing). Didn't give a shit about the game but
got the score and then we're talking. I'mdowning a coconut shrimp appetizer and she's
nursing a soda.

She tells me what she does for a living and I'mlike holy shit! Tell her I knew a lot of
gymnasts online because of all the Olympic hype, and dazzle her with my knowledge of
the sport and its celebs. Her gymisn't that serious, just beginners, and she was never an
elite, just competed in high-school (around an L-7). Turns out she just got out of a
relationship two months ago and this was her first time out. She was HUNTING FOR
DICK, and trying not to be obvious about it, so I play along. She's also got standards so
she wanted to talk a while, but she was so hard-up it was obvious. Love the man-
dependent "picky" types: gotta have a man, but he's still gotta measure up. PERFECT!
Keeps the losers away.

We get to talking and I find out she lives just around the corner, on Chestnut. Says she's
got a roommate who goes to bed early or she'd invite me back, but asks if I'd like to
come over on the weekend to watch a Phillies game, when the roommate will be away.
I'mlike sure LOL. Too fucking easy. I don't escalate verbally or with kino AT ALL


451
because gymnasts usually hate that, and because I'mmaking progress by just going
along with what she says. Take her #(don't give her mine), call to confirm, then pop
over. By the second inning, she asks to sit next to me because it's "chilly" (it's fucking
J ULY, but she had the a/c up so it was a little) . Kino starts in the third inning, and the
game was called on account of sex by the sixth.

Ray


What separates female athletes from other pharmaceutical-grade women is they dont
develop their looks to build a better bitch shield. Many have no game at all, and are socially
clueless, even isolated, due to their training regimen. The movie Stick It addressed this through
one of its characters, a super-elite who had never even had a date! Most gymnasts are
minddiggers, which makes them PUA-immune, and which scares away most rivals. In many
ways, they are ideal targets, but only once they go live. Many are commitment-averse, and
difficult to seduce, even when they want the attention from the suitor-class. Those who are this
way are enabled by their AFC bodycount, which can number in the hundreds. Achieve L-II
isolation, and you might find one of the hottest empty-netters on earth. Simply delaying
escalation is usually enough to quiet her pervert alarm, right along the lines of the reverse-
timetable.


Female athletes can be very shallow, so looks count a lot more with them. They figure
they are in perfect shape, so their men should be as well, in addition to being everything else they
want. At thirty, I still looked good enough to compete in this league; at forty-three, Id need a
very forgiving super-elite. I had gotten into a public flamewar over child-abuse at the Olympic
level, which left me talking to a lot of NCAA gymnast, and coaches, so my knowledge of the
sport evolved into an L-II gimmick. The abuse would be exposed by Big Media a year later,
which resolved my crusade, and terminated the surprisingly effective gimmick.

Report-Ninety-Five-Be-Flexible-(Full-Text)


452
Field Report Ninety-Six:
The Battle Of Kate II

We now revisit the endgame, replete with the neg of a prelude, for time had ravaged
my one true love:

HER: "My beauty will block out the sun."

ME: "That's not your beauty, that's your fat ass. I see its time to check the
date on that milk."

Kate was brilliant, successful, fascinating, andold:

DATE: November 1998
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR: Guys, Show No Mercy
NOW PLAYING: The Power Of Goodbye, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: J ordan Retirement Leaves Bulls In Shambles

Finished some unfinished business fromLONG ago, as I'mfinishing up the new book.
It's GREAT, and I hope you all BUY it (shameless plug!).

I never talk about this chick much anymore, because she was a total AFC failure, but I
just spent an hour on the phone with SHBFashion, the one from1985 in college. Yeah,
THAT one. The one I had a meltdown in front of in a bar. The one that "broke my
heart" and left me chasing sex but not love for thirteen years, with no relationship longer
than four months. I think I called her to test my game since she was the most
DIFFICULT chick I've ever gamed. Thought it might be different now but should have
known better. Also know my game has a ways to go because she caught me off guard
once again. Now I know what you guys mean about not gaming the chicks who knew
you as AFC. It's not worth it unless they see the change and game you.

So I call her up and she answers:

ME: "Hey, is this SHBFashion?"

HER: "Who's this?"

(I know it's her)

ME: "I go by Ray now, but you would know me as <birth name>."

HER: "Oh my God Hi! I'mon the other line right now. Can I call you back?"


453

Kinda fitting I'd have to run some game. This one's a softball:

ME: "Oh, okay. Pardon the intrusion."

HER: "NO I MEAN IT!!! Let me have your number and I'll call you in about
fifteen minutes."

ME: "Of course you will."

HER: "May I PLEASE have your number?"

ME: "Fine. XXX-XXX-XXXX. I'll be holding my breath."

Last thing I'mgonna do is wait by the phone for her on a Friday evening, so I go out for
a few hours. I get back around 10:30 to find a message fromMom:

Ray,

SHBFashion Called at 7:45 pm
(212) XXX-XXXX

No surprise there, since she can't prove me right by blowing me off. What IS it with
chicks and that shit?

So I call her back and she's able to talk. VERY nice at first, very happy to hear fromme.
Guess she had time to regroup. Too much time in fact. The actual conversation was an
hour or so, with a lot of fluff talk that went well, until the end. Here's the highlight reel:

HER: "So how have you BEEN?"

ME: "Not bad. I sent you a birthday card like ten years ago. Don't know if
you got it."

HER: "I did. It was very lovely."

ME: "I meant it. You're one of the nicest women I've ever met. So what are
you doing these days?"

HER: "My life is TOTALLY different now than back then. I'ma <fashion
diva job>."

ME: "Yeah, I know you always liked that stuff. I do word processing and
just started an internet publishing company. I'mdoing a book on
relationships and that got me thinking of you. Found your name in an
online directory so that's how I got your number."



454
HER: "I don't even REMEMBER that part of my life. I had a different
mindset, A DIFFERENT WEIGHT. Everything was different."

ME: "Ha. I remember college like it was yesterday. One thing I remember
about you is you were nice to everyone, no matter who they were. I
liked that about you the most."

HER: "My time there is just a blur. I'mso different now."

ME: "Well it was over a decade. We do grow up. I thought about you
because I'malways analyzing relationships that actually happen, or
may happen. You're what didn't happen."

HER: "What do you mean?"

ME: "J ust as I said. Nothing happened between us, but it could have, and
this had as much an impact as what did happen."

HER: "I don't get what you're saying."

The fuck she doesn't.

ME: "Okay, guess you don't want to talk about it. I just like to be thorough
in my writing, so I figured I'd ask you about then."

HER: "Um, Ray, have you ever considered GETTING A DOCTOR? I think
it might do you some good. Are we done?"

ME: "Sounds like you are. Let me think. Yeah, I guess we are done. Cya."
<click>

I don't know, and I don't want to find out what locked her down. Don't care anyway,
she's thirty-one, and unless she's anorexic, the "different weight" thing scares me. Okay
so she's living in Manhattan and paying at least two dimes a month in rent, but guys
don't give a shit about that, and I bet that annoys the SHIT out of her.

I KNOW she was surprised by the first call, since I was such a WUSS back in college.
Wonder if she would even have called me back otherwise; probably not but maybe.
Didn't matter, she had almost three hours to prepare and her logical social-genius brain
kicked in. Still didn't get her anywhere because I've had better arguments online with
chicks on the old AOL boards (where they censor anything that "hates on women" but
allow perpetual man-bashing). She was so LAME, like the other chicks who think we'll
never wise up. Not like I should talk I wasn't wise at all when it counted with her, but
even she can't stop Father Time. "Different weight" LOL. I bet!

Ray



455

With the benefit of the backstory, something unavailable to Kate during this battle,
the reader can see more clearly why Kate meant nothing to me by now, particularly with
Foxes beginning to Red-Queen the theory I had begun deriving via my post-mortem of The
Battle of Kate. I determined that, had I fucked her at The Battle of Kate, she could have wound
up my wife, thus precluding the need for thirteen years of ferality. She was, literally, what
didnt happen. This led me to seek closure regarding the date she cancelled, and, perhaps, The
Battle of Kate itself, but the former topic was easier to broach. She saw where I was going,
however, and cut me off with her amnesia claim, instead just relying on generally good
memories, hoping that would be sufficient for my inner writer, yet it was not. Despite living,
working, and playing among writers, Kate didnt seem to digest that she was talking to one every
bit as legitimate as those surrounding her, or, if she did, no comment was all she had. I would
expect little else from an Ace of Spades.

I knew better than to raise any political issues, even if they were the main reason I
lacked proximity to Kate all these years. Odds are, if I had been living in Manhattan, wed have
reconnected years earlier, on much more compatible turf, and perhaps even caught fire
(particularly in 1994), but the beauty premium ensured this would never be the case. Kate
herself was not corrupt, and got ahead on talent alone, but she was not about to offset the
negative impact of something she did not cause. On a larger scale, the premise that I was
somehow the loser, when she is the one who ignored a man who truly loved her, seemed as
flawed as her wrong idea remark. As long as Kate was more financially successful, however,
her decision to separate from me, was difficult to contest. She was a millionaire, not some
abandoned single-mother, who desperately needed a provider chump to raise another mans
children. To that extent, I took pride in having chosen well in 1985.

The other reason I gave Kate an ethical pass, aside from having met her before
political considerations entered the picture, was that, had we married, shed have easily been able
to render moot any discrimination, just via her networking value. I never would have needed
much help, just an introduction or two, and could have assisted her career, much the same way I
had many like her, for whom I had worked. Her rejection of me had nothing to do with office
work or anything else, though it did ensure that there would be no reversal, due to no proximity.
Even there, however, nothing was preventing me from looking her up the many times I was in
town, and SHBDancer was hardly settling.


Imagine a seduction community with no pivot, no CUPID, no reverse-timetable, no
returning fox, no psychic gimmicks, no hypnomassage gimmick, no half-dozen-other-
contributions-which-escape-my-mind-at-present, and, most of all, no advice to treat your
soulmate like a slut. All of this was directly attributable to 29 Reasons Not To Be A Nice Guy,
which was directly attributable to The Battle of Kate II, with anything else attributable to The


456
Battle of Kate. The Thermopylae analogy is spot on, because a seemingly insignificant
conflict at which I perished in 1985, laid the groundwork for spreading seduction democracy
to the world, via the seduction community. Through her actions, and my observation of them,
Kate built the community, but equal or greater credit must go to the OTL, without whom I
wouldnt have lasted ten seconds with Kate after the first conversation.

Here, I treated Kate not as my one true love, but as an inferior, thirty-one year old
NHB, just like any other. Kates social acuity supports the notion that she sensed my
reevaluation of our relative leagues, and had concluded that, due to age, she was no longer in
mine, even if she didnt want me for herself. Her industry is extremely youth-biased, so shes
definitely had to deal with the age issue.

As this book expanded from a one-dimensional approach to seducing Diamonds, to its
biographical narrative, mostly because I had spent nothing directly on Kate, I looked much
deeper into the chess position and began concluding that my initial instinct was correct: I
didnt want her as a party slut. At the time, I thought sex would cost me a marriage to her, and,
possibly, and LTR, but discovering she never married anyone, made me realize that this was
why she made the booty call. Suddenly, it made sense: she was mine for the taking at The Battle
of Kate, but once I asked her out, she couldnt go through with it, because all roads led to
breakup, and worse heartbreak than the bar meltdown.

Fucking her that night would have required a level of emotional detachment of which I
was not capable, with her, but which I proved to be capable of with everyone not her, forever
after, with Le Club the only near-exception. Kate and I had collided, our battle inevitable,
given our mutual search for equals on a campus which had none (by our standards). Kate
could easily claim dozens of other mistakes on my part, but every last one of them was sourced
by our fundamentally different views on marriage and commitment, which kept us out of sync
during the entire courtship.

Giving Kate three hours to prepare for the second call was as terminal as would be
giving Kasparov that long to think about a complex, out-of-book chess position. There was no
way I was going to win The Battle of Kate II, but it was pretty clearly a draw, a far better
result than I had achieved in 1985, and about the best result one can hope to achieve against a
supercomputer that almost never makes even a minor social mistake, the same trait that had
made an amazingly successful, and wealthy, woman, out of Kate.

Report-Ninety-Six-The-Battle-Of-Kate-II-(Full-Text)



457
Lesson Thirty-Three:
Gammas And Googlers

Whats the difference between Google and the National Enquirer?

If the National Enquirer lies about you, you can sue them.

The recent book Google Bomb summarizes a long-running internet cancer,
defamation, which has been taken to new levels in cyberspace, thanks largely to the existence of
search engines, such as Google, which aggregate everything on the internet, and then make it
searchable by any keyword or phrase, including your name, which yields a dossier on the
target. Perhaps one reason Google China has struggled is that Googling someone, like say
Lee Lee, wouldnt prove terribly insightful. (i.e., Ive got the dirt on you, Lee Lee!). Google,
on the other hand, allows anyone with an axe to grind, to soil your good name, anywhere on the
internet, knowing full well that the search engine will dutifully return every malicious word in
search results performed by employers, friends, lovers, and others with power over our lives,
individuals who would never have seen the original vitriol, and who often do not see its original
context.

Meet The Gamma Male

CycleDude devotes a lot of time to mens-rights issues, and has prototyped the alpha
male as a domineering bully, whose disregard for the rule of law causes him to get most of
lifes opportunity, success, and sex with high-value targets. Darwin himself noted, and many
have quoted, that:

Among primates, eighty-six percent of the females have sex with four percent
of the males, the alpha males.

The community adopted this battle-cry, into some very practical advice:

Chicks dig alpha males.

They definitely do, but is this the correct reaction? Consider the following:

Among primates, fourteen percent of the females prefer beta males!!

Fourteen percent adds up to a lot of fucking sex!!! The numbers sound about right, as
theyd give Fonzie six times as many lays as Richie, yet their net results are remarkably
equivalent, with Richie in an LTR with Lori Beth, who is of slightly higher quality than Fonzies
typical groupie, while Fonzie is too Feral to give up on the occasional super-elite who comes his
way. Instead of viewing Richie as a loser, and Fonzie the winner, an expansion of the playing


458
field reveals them both to be winners, each understanding and respecting the others style (hence
the friendship), while the real question reveals the real result:

Whither Ralph and Potsie?

Ralph and Potsie are classic gamma males, defined by their lack of intellectual and
social autonomy, and their reduced social-standing, upgraded only by the presence of Richie and
Fonzie, who, in turn, use the gamma males to establish their own cred, with Richies deferral to
Fonzie, and only Fonzie, cements his alpha status, even if Fonzie is also presented as the most
violent in the group, something many gurus neglect to mention, as this makes alpha
posturing extremely dangerous, providing a compelling reason to consider a more beta
approach.

The beta male is not weak at all. Most in the community, however, are gammas,
not betas, exploited by the alphas for money and status, and by the betas as an outlet for their
repressed, dominant urges (which manifests itself whenever a frustrated beta decides to
bitchslap a gamma in a flamewar). As a teen, I noticed when I hung out with gammas, I
became alpha, and they upgraded to beta, while with other betas, or alphas, I remained beta,
because the pissing contest in which a challenged alpha engages is not worth it; my strategy with
these types was simple avoidance, a very Kate-positive trait, which sank the beer posses
AMOGing attempts.

Most every social hierarchy has this trinomial structure, with the alphas as the ruling
class, the betas as middle- or working-class, and the gammas as a helot-like lower-class. The
seduction community was no exception, but a golden age existed, before the hierarchy took
shape. This led to an amazingly open exchange of ideas, with no clear group leader acting as
an information filter, and Big Media waiting to see who would emerge as the community
alphas, betas, and gammas. The betas would be the kingmakers, by supporting the new
alphas, the gammas would follow suit en masse, and, in the process, make the alphas
commercially viable. Jeffries had been ASFs alpha by default, but the invasion of the Class
of 1998 had thrown the hierarchy into chaos.

Why Alphas Need Gammas

The beta needs the gamma, mostly to feel alpha. Usually, hell have a flunkie, who
serves this purpose, and the flunkie will often be gay, preying upon the betas need for an Emo
connection (the reason I used PGs rather than gammas), and praising him a little too much,
similar to the manner in which the AFC pursues the super-elite, via a perpetual, and
ridiculously transparent, ego-boost. One profuse compliment from a male can mean anything,
but two, and definitely three or more, should cause five-alarm Gaydar. They call it
mancrushing now, but my generations word for it gay is usually more accurate. If not gay,
it is still clueless, in violation of the rule.



459
The way the community played out, the gurus wound up alpha, with the rank-
and-file PUAs and techies (like Formhandle) as the betas, a group into which I placed
myself willingly, since I was commercial, and thus exploiting the rank-and-file gammas, but
my pricing was such that I avoided the hard-selling alpha tactics that would come to define the
whale-driven bootcamp industry, with the whales gravitating towards the alpha gurus,
making the classic gamma mistakes of equating aggression with strength, high prices with
quality, and falling into numerous traps which the beta is too ethical to set, but which the alpha
is not. With Big Media was waiting to jump in, whoever emerged as the internet alpha, so they
could make him the mainstream media alpha as well, something I desired, but not to the point of
compromising my mission.

With Foxes, I established myself as a beta guru, making a steady, though not
spectacular, income, by offering a decent product, at a reasonable price, something the alpha
marketing gurus considered a strong threat, because it reduced the potential to exploit the
gammas, who could now learn to get laid from a $29.95 text, than a four-figure bootcamp.
This caused the wannabe-alphas in the group to unite against me, for the purpose of scooping up
the gammas in the audience, including the whales. Because this was a new hierarchy, even the
alphas appeared gamma at first, until everything settled, a process completed by 2001.
Though I would eventually be outpaced by Mystery and others, from 1998-2000, I was as
alpha as any guru or PUA on ASF, but my refusal to charge more than the price of a book
would curtail my resources, and allow the alpha marketers to mop up financially, as they were
netting many multiples of my revenue per sale. In a community of less than ten thousand, with
a two-percent conversion rate, this was fatal to the beta gurus, but in 2010, with an audience of
thirty million, most of whom were drawn to my theory (pivot, etc.), even if they didnt know it,
shift happened to the paradigm.

Commercial Wrongfooting

One reason wrongfooting is no longer discussed in the community, after being
touted as a bread-and-butter tactic, is its popularity as a marketing tactic, one to which few wish
to cop. The structure of wrongfooting has already been covered, but its purpose has not:

With commercial wrongfooting, the alpha marketer AMOGs a beta
competitor, in order to sway the gamma customer.

The attempt is transparent, yet this transparency does little to immunize the gamma,
while the beta dismisses it as something that either wont work, or might even backfire, since no
thinking person would fall for it. The flaw in this logic was made clear by George Sodini,
whose critical faculties were AWOL, when it came to choosing a guru on whom to lavish
money. The movie Two For The Money showed how this plays out in the tout industry, with
gamma-whale after gamma-whale sending thousands of dollars in response to the
scamdicapping being marketed, in the hope of easy riches, while the beta touts, who offer a
best-effort, and no false promises, lose the sale, only to have the customer wonder why every


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tout is a scam-artist, ignoring the beta-touts who could have actually helped him. In the
community, these gammas, open their Sodini-like checkbooks with the same haste they will
close it for a beta. The logic goes something like this:

1. Everyone [read: paid shills] hates Ray.

2. Rays book is only $29.95. If it were any good, everyone would be
buying it. (Many were, but were not paid to shill for me).

3. If that guy charging $2,500.00+were lying, theyd tell me about it the
same way they warn me about Ray.

4. If I buy Rays book, people wont like me. They might even harass me if I
praised it.

5. If I take a bootcamp, the community will accept me.

The beta uses a more practical approach:

1. Damn, Ray must be a real threat to these guys, or they wouldnt be
harassing him. Ill quietly purchase his book since its reasonably priced,
and hes intelligent, even when being harassed and lied about. I bet itll
help me.

2. I wish I could praise Ray, but the last guy who did this was told his family
would be killed if he kept posting, so Ill just keep quiet and hope things
work out for him.

In other words, the beta will not risk his fourteen percent slice of the pie, will not
confront the alpha, and will not risk self-destruction just so he can give me props, since he
leaves it to the gamma to wise up on his own, feeling no need to save or change the world, since
hes too busy with his own beta struggles, instead expecting me to take care of business. This
behavior is consistent, and is why Sodini forked over $5,000.00+for live instruction, while most
betas, including me, did not. It is why he shot up an L.A. Fitness Center, and a beta did not.
When a gamma seeks to become alpha, he has nothing to lose, will risk everything, and bring the
words die tryin to life. Many in the ghetto are natural betas, forced into a gamma lifestyle,
realizing that their only way out is to become alpha, since their neighborhoods are almost
uninhabitable for betas.

In my case, the commercial wrongfooting bordered on the absurd. The collection of
lies and invasions of my privacy, used in an attempt to sway the gammas, had grown to include:

Unemployed secretary


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Living with Mom
On welfare
Mentally ill (bipolar, due to suicidal gestures)
Pedophile (due to interest in gymnastics)
Hates women
Narcissistic
Delusions of expertise in multiple disciplines
Lost virginity to a prostitute (true! See SHBPolitics)

And, of course:

LOSER!!!

Despite half or more of this list having little or no negative impact on ones game,
the transparent appeal to the mindless, yet lucrative, gamma-whale market, was successful in its
mission, even if the betas were not swayed, expecting me not to care, because they didnt, even
if large amounts of money were being shifted, due to the ability to use hate-marketing to gain
market-share among the Sodini-like gammas. While I could have emulated their tactics, this
would have made me one of them, which I was not.

The Beta Customer Is ALWAYS Wrong

A century or so ago, some merchant, whose labor force was mostly immigrant, poorly-
educated, and not well-versed in English, reduced the retail job description to a battle-cry, one
probably never intended to be taken literally:

The customer is always right.

This is just that: a battle-cry, one which has grown less accurate over time, as more
and more customers (including potential customers who are not yet customers) asserting
their rights. I used to do this in my own neighborhood, by taking my business elsewhere when
mistreated, and noticed the strangely mixed reaction of a number of these establishments going
out of business, while, in other cases, I would have been shopping for basics in Upper Darby,
had I continued to be such an asshole about customer service. For simplicity, I now adopt the
policy that my entering a store is transactional approval of the business, and all its policies,
treating myself as a guest, where the customer is always wrong, because he usually is.
Corporate America has wised up, with a new, mostly unwritten rule:

The gamma customer is always right;
The beta customer is always wrong

Unlike the beta customer, who will raise a stink just to exercise his wannabe-alpha
demons, a gamma customer will not verbalize discontent unless s/he is pretty sure most other


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gammas feel the same, which means the customer probably is right. The chip-on-shoulder
beta, however, usually approaches the business seeking conflict, and has little difficulty
finding it. In the community, this meant that the beta gurus, who did things the right way,
by interacting with the audience, became sitting ducks for commercial wrongfooting. Not
surprisingly, the alpha gurus who just put up websites, and use advertising and affiliate
marketing, while pretending to be above the fray (except to respond to anything that threatens
their gamma-whale audience base), mop up revenue from the gammas.

With so few true alphas or betas in circulation, and with most everyone with
whom we interact, agreeing that most people in the world are stupid, lazy, and selfish, if not
plain evil, the gamma label accounts for these unseen, unwashed, and avoided masses, the
dregs upon whom men do not bother crushing, and who high-quality targets do not bother
probing. The most glaring example, however, is the mail-order bride, who makes alphas out
of American betas males, due to a lower street value, yet this comes at the expense of the
gammas in their home country, men who have no chance even with beta targets.

College Football And The Gamma

The method they use to determine the college-football championship is called the
BCS, which must be short for blowout coalition system:

The national championship shall be contested by the two teams who score
highest under the blowout coalition systems methodology.

In other words, whichever school blows out its hapless rivals, 72-0, most often, gets
the right to play whichever other school most effectively annihilates Division Is gamma schools.
Similarly, many beta males are never directly challenged by alphas, and often perform
surprisingly well under fire, while many gamma-fed alphas have never been looked in the
eye by a strong beta, and get the math lesson that 86 percent is not 100 percent. If the alpha
wins six of seven, but dies on the seventh try, the beta mops up, and lives to fuck another day. A
replacement alpha will show up, but that merely cloaks the question of who died along the way,
the fundamental AFC/PUA risk/reward tradeoff.

Something similar to this actually played out in the 1991-92 NCAA Final Four, when
Duke upset the unbeatable UNLV squad, one which was undefeated entering the game, which
had never been challenged, and which had blown out Duke in the previous years final, 103-73.
That UNLV squad had been challenged during the season, but the attempted repeat failed, when
Duke pulled out a 79-77 squeaker, its experience in the hotly contested ACC proving the
difference, as their conference was much deeper than UNLVs, and most conference games
would feature an ESPN Finish, something that always favors the underdog. Indeed, there have
been entire seasons where underdogs have covered 56-57 percent of the time, due to the
gammas instinct to bet favorites (better team, as if pointspreads mean nothing), and the over
(more instant gratification, since the bet can win before the game is over). Many NFL weeks


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have underdogs scoring 11-4 or 12-3 against the spread (ATS), and double-digit NFL underdogs
were hitting at an even higher rate, until the forum sharps caught on to the trend, which
immediately reversed.

In another example of how an alpha will ruthlessly exploit a gamma, once ToutDude
had snared the gammas with his syndicate games, and everyone thought they had a gravy-train,
he stopped charging for picks, instead taking a percentage of losses from his referrals to offshore
bookmakers, and caught the money wave a second time, when the gammas lost their winnings
back, with ToutDude collecting half of the losses, including money lost on his own picks, which
had suddenly stopped performing. As for why he won when the bettors were paying him, and
lost while the bookies were paying him, I could not say for sure, but I could make a pretty
accurate oddsline.

Racetrack Economics And Gammas

Many horseplayers avoid Philadelphia Park, because of this:

Track Takeout

NYRA 15-25 percent
Philadelphia Park 17-30 percent

The question of which track is easier to beat seems easy, and it is:

Philadelphia Park.

Despite the 30 percent trifecta takeout, which would make it seem impossible to win,
Philadelphia Park has small betting pools, which causes the sharks to avoid splashing them.
Instead, Im left with a crowd of gamma horseplayers, who know very little, and whose market-
inefficiency makes the extra five cents on the dollar I pay to bet against them a bargain. Ernie
Dahlman, Beyer, and many others pump millions a year in sharp money through the major pools,
yet at Philadelphia Park, I compete against a much weaker crowd, with my ROI well above
$1.00, without much difficulty, even if betting anything over $1.00 on the exotics will splash a
good chunk of my profits out of the kiddie pool. Seduction has its weak L-I venues, which are
more target-rich, than PUA-rich, and in which a beta can become a temporary alpha, and a
gamma a temporary beta. My favorite example of this is the empty bar with three super-elites,
and no one else in the house, versus the trendy nightclub loaded with A-listers, but also with
alpha rivals.



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Useful Idiots And Gamma Googlers

The term useful idiot originated in propaganda, to describe an easily-manipulated
gamma. The internet has become their glory day, however, because they now have two key
character traits:

1. They are useful because they are easily misled; and

2. They are idiots because they believe what they read online.

As gammas, useful idiots have a perverse credibility, since theyd never be discussing
anything, let alone so aggressively, absent their chance to upgrade to beta by winning the favor
of the commercial-wrongfooting alpha. These are not shills, who are beta, and cashing in on
the alphas agenda, but genuine gammas, who actually believe the lies, and are misled into
making faulty purchasing decisions by their inability to spot deceit, another reason so many
community gammas are marketed to as if they have Aspergers, like many suspect was the
case with Sodini. A gamma with Aspergers could almost be called a Delta male, due to the
inability to spot deception, and a tremendous need to belong, secondary to the social isolation
caused by their disorder. The internet is a perfect marketing tool when targeting this group, due
to its false sense of community, that drives him straight into the clutches of the alpha guru.

Googlers are gammas, by definition, because they are letting a search engine direct
them to the words of total strangers, which they then use to form real judgments of those they
encounter online, or even offline. Those who brag about googling are actually revealing
themselves to be easily-manipulated gammas, including many celebrities who attempt to appear
trendy by announcing this proudly on the air.

The Jeffries-Steele Flame War

One perfect example of an alpha trouncing a beta to win over the gammas
occurred on ASF, between late 1996 and mid-1998, between R. Don Steele, Sodinis guru, and
Ross Jeffries, who viewed ASF as his group, which it was, except for its listing on USENET,
which meant the group belonged to its subscribers, i.e., anyone with access to a news server,
most of whom happened to be SSers. Steele began marketing his now-infamous How To Date
Young Women For Men Over Thirty-Five, while Jeffries, and his followers, flamed him
mercilessly, with Steele returning fire. Steele lost the flamewar, mostly because of his beta
approach to seduction, one which relied on a combination of settling, EL-IIs, and selecting
mostly for Ten-of-Clubs types. Jeffries convention-flouting alpha style of hypnotic
persuasion was a much easier sell. Once he eventually vacated ASF, Steele took the more
alpha approach of distancing himself from the gammas, and just letting them find him through
searches and word-of-mouth.



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Foxhunting has always involved using alpha principles to guide a beta approach,
while Mystery, and the rest of the Class of 1998, were more hardcore PUAs than even the
SSers, eschewing the need for any Emo conversations, persuasive or otherwise. For the most
part, I would operate as a beta, but use my alpha gear when stagnant, or if I had gone too
long without results. I would rarely rely on this, and never liked how well it worked when I did.
The easiest way to do this, without being aggressive, is to just raise your level of intolerance for
target-bullshit. For a beta, this can be extremely powerful, since no one expects Richie
Cunningham to assert himself, particularly any of his EL-IIs, most of whom sought him out
specifically because they thought he would take their shit (to a point).

The Red Queen created the dividing line between the communitys golden age, of
alphas and betas, and the point after which it jumped the shark, as the media-brainwashed
gammas began filing in, after discovering it in the mainstream media. Each newbie would
assume his place, usually as a gamma, with a select few debuting as beta, or alpha, based on
anything from politics, to emotional stereotyping, to their ability to provide useful free
information. This also commercialized the community, with the supply of free information
drying up, as the alphas sought to capitalize, and the betas sought to avoid having others
capitalize, on the amazingly large body of theory that had been dropped onto a decentralized,
global, message-distribution system (USENET). In a world where distribution is king, many
alpha internet-marketing types saw an opportunity to repackage the theory under their own
name, claim to be a world-class PUA, and profit from Red-Queening ASF to its death.

The Fourteen-Percenter

A fourteen-percenter is a beta male who gets laid as well or better than any alpha,
and is usually a recreational user of pharmaceutical-grade women, secondary to his limited
budget, ethics, and refusal to settle. Because he is not evil, or gluttonous, he has no need to
become alpha, and doing so is not even profitable, since the risk is too great for him to place
his existing rewards in jeopardy. Tell a gamma he might fuck a super-elite if he kills another
man, and hes likely to consider it; make the same offer to even a beta, and hell figure he can
get the rewards without the risk. This leaves the beta in a bind, of having to accept reduced
status, relative to the alphas, to retain dominance over the remainder of the population, almost
like a vice-president. The headers titular term is borrowed from the Outlaws one-percenter,
referring to those who exist outside the boundaries of normal society, which encompass ninety-
nine percent of the population. A fourteen-percenter seeks not to compete with alphas, but to
mop up their leftovers, or dominate arenas deemed unworthy of their time, like Philadelphia Park
versus NYRA.

New distribution models, like internet-video, social-networking, and Kindle, have
leveled the playing field a great deal, compared to 1998, which will allow for a new batch of
alphas and betas to be ushered in, but the fundamental dynamic will never change. The
basic false Sodini promise is made to a gamma, by treating him as a beta male, and offering to
transform him into an alpha male, for a four-figure tuition. The gamma-whale, already pleased


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at being called beta, and given the attention of a future alpha, grabs the bait, and funds the
alpha gurus empire, eventually causing it to feed on itself, once Big Media plays along, by
giving them cred, as in the ability to say As seen on TV. Given whats on television these days,
Im not sure this is anything to be bragging about.

From Gamma To Alpha: The Impossible Transition

What made the Class of 1998 so special, was its ability, for a brief moment, to
transform gammas into men who presented as alpha, by mimicking the behavior. The
betas had no difficulty doing this, because alpha/beta is more of a lifestyle choice, like
AFC/PUA, but for gammas to rise up to compete against alphas who lacked the benefit of
the ASF theory, proved its validity. Once the community mainstreamed, the gammas were back
at square one, the betas were slightly better off (since the targets now presume them PUAs),
while the alphas became so rich and famous, they could switch to lifestyle game. Their rising
tide has lifted boats like mine, by exponentially increasing the audience for texts like these, into
the millions, and by making it unnecessary to explain what I do.

The Inevitability Of Sodini/Steele

The biggest irony of the seduction community mainstreaming, was that the Sodini
mass-murder/suicide catapulted it into the mainstream, more than any other singular event, given
the lack of volume given to supporting his ideas on ASF. Steele epitomized commercial game,
as he was teaching a well-off gamma to act beta, while calling it alpha, and laughing all the
way to the bank. By offering something Sodini could never achieve, for he wouldnt be forking
over tuition if he could, Steeles infamous student failed his reality-testing, by refusing to back
down, and lashing out, when targets did not buy his alpha frame. Absent some serious
introspection, with or without therapy, the best a guy like Sodini can do is act beta and hope he
finds a target who doesnt notice, or resign himself to taking care of business via the Spitzer
method. With his income and nest egg, that would allow for only the recreational use of
pharmaceutical-grade prostitutes, unless he outsourced or lowered his standards.

My Defining Internet Moment

This would come in early November, 1998, when the Snodgrass post-office box
yielded four items:

1. A rejection letter, from the only agent to whom I had sent Foxes; and

2. Three checks, for $29.95 each, ordering the text.

I just stared at the four pieces of mail, marveling at how much the world had changed,
even from 1994, allowing my rise from gamma author, to beta internet guru, grabbing a
small piece of the pie, yet one infinitely larger than the nothing carved out for me by Big Media,


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in 1994. It was so perfect: men needed help getting laid, I put together a book (Kinkos finest
coil binding, 8 x 11), sold it over the internet, mostly via signature SPAM (not considered
actual SPAM), i.e., leaving my websites URL in my posting signature, when answering direct
questions, posting general advice, or responding to others, while attempting to ignore the noise,
and the flamewars, a near-impossible task.

Trainwrecker Escalation

Because I was a beta guru, targeting an intelligent, independent-thinking audience,
and because the gammas had yet to find the community in large numbers, attempts to defame
me into vacating ASF backfired, and did little to harm my revenue, because, until around mid-
2000, I was Jeffries only real competition, as the gamma gurus had yet to upgrade to beta
by figuring out which of the Class of 1998s theory they were going to call their own.
Compounding the problem was that attacking me did not solve the fundamental USENET
problem, as was made apparent by Mysterys extreme popularity among the gammas, since he
was using free alpha advice to market his magic career, and sell magic tricks, which led
nowhere, other than to build the fan base which would make him wealthy and famous as a
guru. Jeffries was no more pleased with this than he was with me, and had the added
problem that Mystery was more popular with the gammas. Some more rabid SSers took to
increasing their level of intimidation, using lame persuasion imagery, which served only to
leave digital evidence of their decidedly beta (gamma) conduct. A solution would not be
found for these folks, and a few others, for a few more years, at which point ASFs true heyday
had run its course.

Lesson-Thirty-Three-Gammas-And-Googlers-(Full-Text)


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Lesson Thirty-Four:
Stripclub Game, Circa 1999

Most of this lesson is as obsolete as the PUA theory from the Class of 1998. The
basics still apply, but the Red Queen has damaged the more effective tactics. With so many
PUAs running hired-gun game at stripclubs, and so many strippers sharing stories and
countermeasures online, a great deal has changed, and not for the better. With the recent
financial crisis, a great deal more has changed, definitely not for the better. The modern
stripclub is a glorified brothel, with targets for whom no self-respecting PUA should ever have
to settle, but where exceptions are still notable, and it is possible to score some decent lays, if
one is extremely industrious and cautious. The definition of extremely was much more modest
in 1999 than now, another mark left by the internet Red-Queening.

In Betting Thoroughbreds, Steve Davidowitz wrote something similar to the
following:

Although I know little about sports handicapping, anyone calling himself a
professional should be able to pick 60-65 percent winners, laying odds of 11-10
against the pointspread.

This was correct, and an astute observation by Davidowitz, of how he would evaluate
an alleged expert. As a seduction guru, I decided that I should be capable of a pluck, i.e.,
meeting a stripper in her club, as a customer, and convincing her to meet me outside the club
(OTC). OTC is generally forbidden, yet this ignores a sampling bias, because many strippers
spend one week or less in the industry, and sometimes allow customers to #close them,
because they wont be dancing again, and wish to remain in touch! Since they quit, every
veteran dancer in a club might swear she doesnt do OTC, while half the customers in the club
can also claim, correctly, that they took a dancer home and fucked her, if the transient turned
out to be slutty. As Ralph Kiner once noted: The Mets are undefeated in their six home
victories.

It would take eighteen months for me to figure out stripclub game, and score my first
pluck, but I had come close several times before, and was making progress almost from day one,
while deploying minimal TURD-money.

The Timeless Fundamentals Of Stripclub Game

No matter when the readers eyes hit this text, the following should still be true about
stripper game:

1. The goal is to pluck the stripper, preferably for a lay;

2. With as little risk as possible;


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3. As little expense as possible;

4. In the shortest time possible.

In other words:

Get in
Get out
Get laid

Simple PUA economics covers the rest: keep visits-per-lay, and cost-per-visit to a
minimum, to reduce the overall cost-per-lay, hopefully to a fraction of a Spitzer, for a dancer of
comparable quality to an SHBProstitute, like Spitzers. In 1999, a PUA could operate in
complete stealth, which is why simple DHV stories were so powerful; the dancers thought they
were betas who just happened to be fascinating, until they realized someone was teaching
these techniques, and the same internet-marketing gurus then set up shop to educate the
dancers, in eerily similar fashion, with their own community. Now, the dancers know that
when a guy isnt tipping, claims to be friends with the owner, and isnt there to watch the
dancers, they have no need to probe further. Probing is often mistaken for attraction, which is
why many PUAs who are busted in field dont realize that what they are getting is recon, not
a winning chance.

It didnt take long for my basic stripclub game to take hold. I began with this:

1. The clubs are open, and empty, during the day, particularly in bad weather.

2. For $25.00 or less, I can open every dancer in the club, and have one or
two drinks for myself.

3. Beating the cover (arriving before they charge one) saves the cost of one
drink, and ensures less of a crowd.

4. For every hundred dancers against whom I deployed the hypnosis gimmick,
four would want to fuck me.

5. For every hundred dancers against whom I deployed the massage gimmick,
ten would want to fuck me, but another fifty would be creeped out, or exert
dominance by stopping me, thus causing the other sixty to be more hesitant.

6. They had to be there; I did not.



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Of all the advantages, #6 is the strongest, since it puts you and the dancers, literally, in
opposite venues, one where you are the hunter, and they, the trapped prey. In exchange for this,
the venue is expensive, and extremely hostile to PUAs, but is actually very efficient and
lucrative, for the man who has figured out his moves.

Because I was seeking lays, I ran my typical L-III numbers game, similar to what I
had going during my lifetime peak, from 1994-1996. I had taken to wearing a crystal pendant
when at clubs, which dancers would grab, as they inquired about its use. I would then deploy the
gimmick, always in L-II, and this would lead to verbal escalation, but with difficulty in #closing,
since some were just feigning interest in an attempt to bait me into trying to hypnotize them in
the VIP room, at $150.00+per half-hour. I knew better than to nibble on this, but did trance a
few dancers on the main floor. Because my L-I game still had some remaining fumes, I did not
run much stripclub game until early 2001, instead making steady, infrequent visits in an attempt
to solve the puzzle they present.

The Fourteen-Percenter And The Stripclub

A genuine AFC can do very well in a stripclub, particularly if he is truly tagging
along with his gamma buddies, who behave and tip stereotypically, while he sits on the sidelines,
intrigued and intimidated into a shyness on which most dancers, particularly those with
stereotypical stripper boyfriends, pounce. I met a dancer on AOL who married this exact type of
guy, though he was beta. He got to her when she learned hed been fucked over by his ex-
girlfriends, while shed been ignoring guys like him all her life for losers. She wised up, took
him home from work, and married him within a year.

Stripclub Game And TURD-Money

Because anyone with true wealth can do a lot better than strippers, all money deployed
there is presumed to be TURD-money, even if this is not always the case. The "golden rule" of
stripclub game is therefore the same as for lifestyle game:

Emo game discounts stripclub game.

On one extreme, you have the men who pay full price for "extras," say $1,000.00 for
full-blown sex (FBS), and on the other, you have a guy like Mystery, claiming he fucked twenty
strippers by running his standard, DHV routines, which were effective in that era. I saw no
problem in tipping a polite dollar to remain on good terms with the dancers, or satisfying the
two-drink minimum most stripclubs have, since I would not be making any individual dancer
wealthy. For $25.00 or less, I would get one chance to "game" every dancer, and bypass L-I,
something I had begun to find very appealing, at age thirty-two. This would have been a waste
of money in 1991, when strippers were just deposited near my chair, but by 1999, it was
efficient. Stripclubs were actually cheaper, the way I was doing it, which was based in part on
what TrustFundDude had done so successfully.


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Stripper Immunity

This should be a compulsory exercise for every reader, because strippers are trained in
the art of using their pharmaceutical-grade sexuality. It is a weak form of hypnoteasing, with
her as the "anchor." In this state, the customer can be fleeced out of entire fortunes, for literally
nothing in return, thus driving up the prices for everyone. In 1997, Delilahs customer Craig
Rabinowitz actually murdered his wife, Stephanie, to collect on his insurance policy, after the
$400,000.00 from a scam used to con former friends went to a dancer named "Summer. Lack
of stripper immunity proved fatal to both Craigs finances, and his late wife. As a recreational
user of pharmaceutical-grade women, who had thumbed his nose at SHBStuckUp, and
SHBGroupieCousin, I was well-prepared to use the stripclubs to further enhance this all-
important immunity. Without it, the threat of bankruptcy, at the hands of a Diamond, looms.

The best way to achieve stripper-immunity is to restrict your stripclub visits to no
more than once a month for any one club, or once a week overall. Become a regular, and the
dancers will eventually separate you from your money, as your women dosage increases, eroding
your resistance level. Ideally, you should go when doing so offers maximum winning chances,
but also often enough that the live dancer-targets you dont pluck will still remember you on
your next visit, and remember you as stripper-immune. A few times, I would go as a normal
customer and have a more normal experience (spending a more normal $50.00-75.00), but
most of my visits were kept to the bare minimum, so I could determine the true cost of running
stripclub game. I concluded that the cost-per-lay was efficient, but required a great deal of time,
with a low strike rate, which lends itself to extended dry-spells. On the whole, stripclubs have
promise, but mostly as a peripheral venue, at certain advantaged times, and only with a
minority of dancer-targets.

How Stripclubs Work

A stripclub is like a regular bar, but has an adult-entertainment, or "cabaret" license,
which allows it to offer adult entertainment, to varying degrees, depending on the jurisdiction.
The setup is as follows:

Hours. Las Vegas stripclubs are perpetually open, but be careful if you
are traveling there, because most of them pay a per-head bounty to
cabdrivers, for the business they steer. Most stripclubs have hours that
match the hours for the rest of the nightlife. In other states, closing time
is usually the same as for normal bars.

Cover charges. Most stripclubs don't charge a cover during the day shift,
which makes it like no-ante poker, in that you can walk in, survey the
venue, and walk out if you don't like what you see. Primetime cover
charges range from $5.00, with a free drink coupon, at the "dive" clubs, to


472
$15.00 or more at the "upscale gentleman's clubs," with a two-drink
minimum.

Drinks. Drinks tend to be priced a dollar or two above what you'd pay at
a regular bar, and tend to be more potent at the "lesser" clubs, which cater
to a working-class or middle-class clientele. Upscale clubs charge a bit
more. Sodas tend to be ridiculously expensive relative to their normal
price. A long-island iced tea at Atlantis, in Philadelphia, set me back
$8.75 back in January 2009.

Food. Many stripclubs, including Delilah's, have excellent menus. In
1999, I used to get a big plate of twenty large buffalo wing pieces for
$7.00, but it was so spicy it would take three $3.00 sodas to wash it down.
Still not bad overall, as it covered the drink minimum. Many stripclubs
have no kitchen, but either lay out a happy-hour style buffet, have an
arrangement with a nearby eating establishment, or allow customers to
bring their own food, which I often did with my lunch, since there was no
cover, and nowhere to sit where I got the food. On one "brilliant" night I
brought in a rack of barbecued baby-back ribs, figuring a dancer might
want some, only to find a lavish buffet laid out for no reason other than to
trainwreck my "game."

Stage dances/tipping. Most stripclubs have a stage, with two or three
poles, and one or more dancers on stage, depending on the shift. The
dancer does a "stage set" at each active pole, collecting tips from
customers who sit at the tiprail, where tipping is sometimes, but not
always, mandatory. Sometimes there is no tiprail, and the stage is
enclosed with the bar, with tipping usually optional in that case.

Physical contact. Depending on the jurisdiction, everything up to and
including two-way contact can be allowed, but most clubs only allow
one-way, or restrict two-way to a few areas of the dancer's body.
Regardless of the rules, initiating contact is a huge DLV.
19

Lapdances. Usually priced at $20.00, absent a special or volume
discount, they can run for up to five minutes in length, but many run only
two or three, or "one song," with the songs sped up by the DJ. Generally
a ripoff, unless you have a desperate need to be dry-humped by a dancer.
I had little need for this, or for the VIP. That I would turn down
lapdances 99 percent of the time would create many challenge foxes,

19
DLV =Demonstration of low value, the opposite of a DHV. Not good unless intentional, i.e., self-deprecation, or
to mock the DHV, etc.


473
especially among the empty-netter dancers (usually Queens of Clubs with
no hustle), many of whom are easy to get OTC.

VIP/Champagne room. The bread-and-butter of most clubs, time in
these rooms can run anywhere from $300.00-1,500.00 an hour. Some
clubs allow dancers to offer "extras," up to and including sex, while
others will stop it when they see it, but dancers can still offer it on the
side. The privacy, and more intense grinding, have their appeal, but not
at that price.

House fees/drink commissions. Most dancers work as independent
contractors, which sometimes leads to wage/hour lawsuits. They pay a
house fee to work, which can be substantial, such as the $350.00 or more
at the upscale, big-city clubs frequented by the rich and famous. Lesser
clubs charge lower fees, usually tied to club and dancer revenue, so that
everyone can make money. Some clubs also take up to half of the money
from lapdances and VIP rooms, while allowing the dancers to keep their
stage and bar tips.

Circling the bar. After their stage sets, most dancers will circle the bar,
and the tables, visiting each customer for a post-set tip, which is where I
usually gave my "polite dollar." Most dancers circle once a set, but more
aggressive ones will make you feel as if you are in pit row at the Indy
500. I used to note this frequency, and found the average to be around
$16.00 an hour (at $1.00 per tip), to "rent" my space at the bar during
prime time, and about half or less of that during the day shifts.

Shifts. Most stripclubs have a day and night shift, with a "swing" shift in
between for a few dancers, or staggered start and finish times. In
Manhattan, day shift is most lucrative, but in most other places, the night
shift has the hottest dancers, the most customers, and the most money
spent and earned.

Once you understand the basic structure of a stripclub, the "jungle" becomes easy to
navigate. My recommendations for modern stripclub game will be presented a bit later.

Lesson-Thirty-Four-Stripclub-Game-Circa-1999-(Full-Text)


474
Field Report Ninety-Seven:
Cashing Out

I had read the backs of enough baseball cards of aging players to know that the sun
was setting:

DATE: Spring 1999
FROM: Ray (Age 32)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Seduced A Pair Of 18 y/os Online
NOW PLAYING: Baby One More Time, by Britney Spears
IN THE NEWS: Y2K Panic Increasing
TARGET CARDS: Aces Of Hearts

Been searching for a GIRLFRIEND lately. Yeah, I know, I don't like LTRs, and have
vowed not to marry, but I'mgetting OLD (32), and how long can a guy keep gaming 18
year-olds? Better to get out now while I can still get "fair value." Decided to go the
online route this time because writing and internet shit is taking up all my time.

Meet TWO candidates, but neither one pans out, both my doing. Doesn't matter, since
the way I got themis very instructional.

SHBAcro (9.3) is eighteen, fromNorth Carolina, and into acrobatics/gymnastics. Use
standard gymnast game, treating her as sheltered and idealistic. Don't let their bodies
fool you, they don't look good to be stuck up; bitch shields are actually rare with this
crowd. Met her when she came into my AOL chat entitled AMERICAN WOMEN
SUCK. I tell her I'mthinking of moving out of the country to find a wife, and how sad it
is that a guy has to do that blah blah blah. She grabs the bait, says I should "give
American women a chance." I tell her fine I'll give HER the chance if she wants to be
my girlfriend, and she says YES! Damn, shoulda tried this before! We start up an
immediate LTR and plan to meet. I'mworking on another book and I tell her I'll come
down to edit it. I then set some conditions on meeting:

1. She has to wear what I specify (I did a d/s thing where I said "describe the
sexiest outfit you own," then told her to put it on, to wear it whenever we
talked on the phone, and to wear it when we meet).

2. She had to kiss me *hello* upon meeting me, or turn back and go home.
Unless you're HIDEOUS (I'mnot), this'll work because it's the
EMOTIONAL thing she wants, and she gets none of it until we're alone and
talking. Which leads to...

3. She has to come straight to my hotel room.

I play it TOTALLY fucking cool, telling her the trip is tax deductible, I have editing to
do, and if she turns back, I'll just pick up someone in the hotel bar. Takes all the fun out


475
of rejecting me, so I know she'll convert like SHBRaver did. Also did some phone
hypno with her and she detached pretty nicely, but I wasn't going into phone sex so as to
save that for the meeting.

So what went wrong? Nothing. Tallied up the cost and it was about $550.00 for a three-
day trip, including two nights in the hotel. Decided it wasn't worth the gamble.

The other one I "lost" to being UNSELFISH. SHBQuarterMil (9.1) is fromthe midwest,
also eighteen, and a freshman in college. She offers to spend spring break with me
instead of going to Florida with her friends. She got her name because she's got a
$250,000.00 trust fund that she gets at twenty-one; parents are LOADED. She's a
minddigger (buy my books for a full explanation), really into me, needs a guy like me,
and wants to spend a week here exploring an LTR. Hell I'mgame but she's fucking
EIGHTEEN and I'mnot taking away her first spring break in Florida. Told her to go
there and have fun. Weather sucks around here in early spring, all cold and raining. The
pressure of having to compete against her imagined fun in Florida would doomit
anyway. Yeah, I could have fucked her, but oh well. I can get a stripper anytime I
really want one, I think (still having difficulty getting OTC but getting better).


These LTR options were secured online, but that speaks to the power of the EL-II,
which can be conducted over any medium. Complete mastery of what to say and do made the
distance barrier evaporate, because I was relating to these fine women as a legitimate
boyfriend, giving them hours of excellent conversation, my full attention, and loyalty (they were
sequential). With one in eight marriages occurring between couples who meet online, theory
can be derived from this medium, particularly in L-II, just as easily as it can in a noisy L-I venue.
As it turned out, I would remain feral, deciding that gambling $550.00 on an online seduction
was bad PUA economics (plus I didnt really have the cash), but this pair restored my confidence
enough to know I had at least a few years before things would tank. Thirty-two was old, but not
that old, even if I had become a journeyman.


I like to think my best days are yet to come, but thirty-two, while not old, is not
young, either, and a barely-legal SHB is nothing to be ashamed of, if one elects to cash out. My
skillz were fully mature by this point, my two texts were already altering the gene pool, and
the marketplace, so little of the community would have changed, something not the case even
with Le Club, in late 1996. This is a young mans game, and always will be. I could still
score in 1999, but was clearly a step slower, and only a serious upgrade in status and wealth was
going to compensate, as my L-I game began its long journey into hell.

Field-Report-Ninety-Seven-Cashing-Out-(Full-Text)


476
Field Report Ninety-Eight:
Yet Another Sexy Science Chick

Regarding financially-unstable men swimming in the Ivy-League alphabet-soup:

DATE: March 1999
FROM: Ray (Age 32)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Racetrack "Date" with HBChina
NOW PLAYING: No Scrubs, by TLC
IN THE NEWS: Stock Market Rallies Despite Warnings Of Y2K Market Crash

Engineered another date with a NICE one! Hot and SMART! Brilliant, in fact! It was
kind of spur-of-the-moment, because I was originally going to take the bus out to
Garden State Park to bet Menifee to win the Derby in the Futures pool, along with five
or six backup horses. Plunked down $75.00 on himat 16-1, and five $10.00 backup bets
on a bunch of other horses and the mutuel field (all not listed). Now for the smart part.

See HBChina (8.9) in the lobby, ask her if she's not doing anything, and offer her a cut
of my action if she drives me to the track and back. She says sure. She's thirty, looks
like a hot twenty; couldn't believe her age when she told me. I pay for tolls and some
gas, and she tags along. I get her $10.00 on Menifee, and $2.00 on my backups. Tell
her the ticket's worth $170.00 if Menifee wins and about $30.00 if anyone else wins. So
she drives me, I bet, and we come back, then make a date to watch the race. Menifee
will be 6-1 or so on Derby day and figures to stay healthy. Even if the other horses win
it'll be worth $30.00 to her to drive me back (which is why I did it that way). Nothing
happened yet, but I got eight shots at a return trip in two months. Odds are GOOD. Plus
we're now "talking" and I #closed her. Ride was cool too because it was FREEZING (I
actually turned back after waiting in the cold for the #21). Ray


This was where I was supposed to cash out. I havent come close to matching her
since. Exceptionally hot, exceptionally mature, exceptionally loyal, an Ace of Clubs, and into
hypnosis. For what its worth, I did plan to conquer her, and executed the plan to near-
perfection; I say near, because she is not my wife. She was, however, not a sorceress.


When you find this type, marry it, or let your heart die tryin.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?10703-Field-Report-Ninety-Eight-
Yet-Another-Sexy-Science-Chick-(Full-Text)


477
Field Report Ninety-Nine:
The 1999 Kentucky Derby

And now for a true "Day2":

DATE: 05 May 1999 22:15:09 GMT
FROM: Ray (Age 32)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Hypnotized HBChina
NOW PLAYING: No Scrubs, by TLC
IN THE NEWS: Charismatic Edges Menifee In Kentucky Derby

UGH! So CLOSE!!!

Menifee, my Derby horse, ran SECOND to Charismatic (30-1), beaten a HEAD, while
flying at the wire, after having all kinds of traffic problems. I picked up $350.00+on the
race (had a juicy exacta and a backup futures bet), but if Menifee won I would have won
$2,600.00+!! Worse yet, HBChina would have banked, instead of the $30.00 she went
to get when she drove me back to Garden State to cash the ticket!

I wear my crystal pendant just for the fuck of it, thinking maybe she'll be like some of
the strippers and grab the bait so I can see if she's into hypnosis. We stop at her
apartment afterwards, and she asks about it. I tell her I'minto it and she's like:

"Hypnosis!?"

Her eyes fucking BULGED out of her head, like she'd been waiting for YEARS to find a
guy who was into it. She's one of the better, and hotter, subjects I've ever seen. If she
didn't still have her "boyfriend" I would have fucked her six ways to Sunday and back.

Ray


This was WheelchairDudes last wager, a near-miss on Menifee. I was moving in for
the kill just fine, and she seemed happy to be along for the ride, acting much like a girlfriend
whenever we were out in public together, and not via PDAs. Her demeanor was the most
mature of any woman Id ever dated, including NHBNurse, and she was way hotter. IOIs were
strong, and frequent, and I just rated right off the pace, assuming I would win this one on
whim. Her reaction to the hypnosis gimmick let me know I could have had her right then and
there.



478

Strike while the iron is hot. It is never wise to take a lay for granted, particularly with
pharmaceutical-grade women, like this one was close to being. Her looks rating is a bit
deflated, since she was not a traditional beauty, but one would be hard-pressed to find a man
who wouldnt have fucked her in 1999. The boyfriend wasnt really the issue with me, but I
figured it might be, with her. I left it to her to get rid of him on her own before Id attempt L-III
escalation.

Due To Time Constraints.

We now move forward to the spring of 2000, bypassing dozens of live targets, a few
lays with NHBs and RHCs, but little of theoretical relevance, beyond confirming theory already
covered.

Field-Report-Ninety-Nine-The-1999-Kentucky-Derby-(Full-Text)



479
Field Report One Hundred:
Climbing The Great Wall

Yet another live soulmate-target has materialized:

DATE: April 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: HBChina Needs Help With Translation
NOW PLAYING: Smooth, by Santana Ft. Rob Thomas
IN THE NEWS: Analysts Say Dow 15,000 Likely; Bull Market Continues

Got a call fromHBChina, that she needed help translating a document to English from
Chinese, and could I help her edit it. She offered to pay me, but I declined. Did I
mention she called me at MIDNIGHT? It doesn't have to be a keg party to be quality
isolation, and this was quality.

I get to her apartment, and we pretend to start working, but get nowhere. She's not even
clear about what she wants me to do (with the letter), which means it IS clear what she
wants me to do, so I pull her closer, to where she's almost on my lap while I'm editing.
Then I start playing with her hair and she doesn't object. Asian chicks are SO passive-
aggressive, and I know this, but I refrain fromjust kissing her, even though I probably
should have. NO WAY she calls me over like this if she doesn't want me. Deal is still
done.

We're hanging out ALL NIGHT, getting NOTHING done, and just talking. It's cool
because after even one kiss there's no turning back, and it would be way intense. She's
really, REALLY cool and hot, plus brilliant, a rare combination, and I want to do this
right. If I want a lay I can pick up a stripper (I think) or just run game on campus until
something drops. She's just the best of the lot, by far, and into me! This is SO COOL!

We make plans to spend a day together betting horses, with me cooking ribs. Good
setup for hypno, since the ribs take hours in the oven, and lots of time between races.
She starts talking about what she wants out of a relationship, and I'm not hearing
anything about the boyfriend. Yeah, she probably wanted to fuck me right then and
there, but I like to be restrained when I'mgunning for an LTR. Gotta drop that habit.

Ray


For some reason, I believed myself sufficiently strong to slowly move in for the kill,
toying with my prey, whose IOIs continued to intensify. As it turned out, our plans would be
shelved for a while, due to her serious boyfriend, a guy for whom I had no respect, any more
than did she, when discussing him in my presence.


480


Aces of Clubs do have a thing for target-oriented PUAs, a strategy to which I had
begun to revert, due to age, and a willingness to cash out, with someone exactly like her.
Among her many IOIs were hints at extended LTRs, presumably leading to marriage. As with
Le Club, we were playing for keeps, another reason we were taking it slow. Once your game
is strong, targets like this will take their time because they are pondering a life-altering decision,
not jerking you around, like many PUAs believe. All the time in the world wasnt going to be
changing her answer, and I knew that too. Once again, I had become Kate.

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Climbing-The-Great-Wall-(Full-Text)


481
Field Report One Hundred One:
The Middle Of The End

If 1999 was the beginning of the end, this was the beginning of the middle of the end:

DATE: April 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Pair Of Dates In One Day!
NOW PLAYING: Maria, Maria, by Santana Ft. The Product G&B
IN THE NEWS: Stocks Fall Slightly Off Highs Due To Profit-Taking
TARGET CARDS: Ace of Hearts/Queen of Spades

Uh-oh I'mgetting OLD. Got two dates today, with a 20 year-old and 19 year-old,

Met the 20 year-old, HBOccult (8.0) online, got intense on the phone really quick (some
two-way hypno), and set up a meeting in center city at the Warwick coffeehouse (same
hotel as SHBDancer years ago). Everything went well, but it was brief. Still cool on the
phone, but didn't get anywhere. She's kinda serious about an on-again/off-again guy she
bitches to me about on the phone all the time.

SHBCountoff (9.3) has a hypnofetish, so it was ON fromthe get-go. Met her online too,
put her under on the phone, made her cumTHIRTEEN times, and count themoff. Said
she never experienced anything like it. So I arrange to meet her later the same day at
another coffeehouse, and she's all prudish and reserved. Not unattracted, just a little
freaked out by the phone. NEVER DO PHONE SEX WITH A CHICK YOU HAVEN'T
FUCKED IF YOU WANT TO FUCK HER. Two swings, two misses. Strike two.

Ray


The offline version of what I had cultivated a year earlier, just to prove I could,
without having to rely on the computer. The hypnosis gimmick came through, as usual, even if
the lays didnt materialize, for other reasons (did get a pair of SHBLunch goodbye-kisses).


Make an SHB cumthirteen times through hypnosis, even over a phone, and your confidence
is pretty difficult to shake. This was my post guru phase, with diminishing, though still decent, results.
It was time to just move in for the kill with HBChina.

Report-One-Hundred-One-The-Middle-Of-The-End-(Full-Text)


482
Field Report One Hundred Two:
If It LOOKS Like A Girlfriend.

The old [Beijing] duck rule, from Congress:

DATE: J uly 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Lunch Date w/HBChina
NOW PLAYING: Jumpin' Jumpin', by Destiny's Child
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Sinks To 30-year low.

The GAME can become a fucking ADDICTION! Why amI even BOTHERING
looking at other targets when I have a PERFECT one here? Had a MARVELOUS lunch
date with HBChina, after we spent another night TALKING in her apartment. She even
showed me a music video of her. Seemed boring as hell but the Chinese loved it. Go
figure. Seafood mmmmm! PRAWNS!!!!! O'Hara's Fish House, first time back since
Valentine's 1992, when they jacked up the menu prices on me thinking I wouldn't walk
with my date.

She probably thinks I'mGAY by now. Okay she doesn't, since kino is still active. We
even talked about whether she'd "date" (Thats Chinese for fuck) an American guy, and
she was all for it, saying her Momwould be thrilled. Time to make a move. Shes mine!

Ray


Did I mention that HBChina had informed me of her ability to do splits? Her inner
wild child was screaming to get out. This was my first date at OHaras since crashing into their
inflated Valentines Day Menu in 1992, upon which I escorted SHBSeventeen to Walshs, for a
romantic dinner, followed by a rooftop makeout (big for her), and a cab to her door.


Imtold that Chinese hotties are passive, yet not as likely to resist escalation, and this
soulmate-target definitely fit that bill. She was screaming to be fucked, and just waiting for me to get
respond to the memo. She never really refused me anything, but I never asked for much, instead taking
my sweet fucking time, like a boa constrictor. Time never favors the PUA, because once he has the lay,
nothing good can come fromany further delay. This was as true here as it was at The Battle of Kate.

Discuss this board on our forum:
http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?10707-Field-Report-One-Hundred-
Two-If-It-LOOKS-Like-A-Girlfriend-(Full-Text)


483
Field Report One Hundred Three:
Tent City

May this never happen to you:

DATE: August 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FU++++: No. Fucking. Way.
NOW PLAYING: Bent, by Matchbox Twenty
IN THE NEWS: Nader Throws Monkey Wrench In Presidential Race

I thought the disaster with SHBDancer on my building's rooftop was as bad as it could
get. WRONG!!! This is a HALL OF FAME FUCKUP, even if it wasn't my fault.

Pull another all-nighter with HBChina in her apartment, TALKING, again. I could
probably have just MOVED in there by now for all the overnights we're talking. Decide
it's time to venue-change, so around 5:30 a.m., I ask her if she wants to go upstairs to the
roof to "watch the sunrise." I've already done the deed up there before and got this all
worked out: where to sit, HOW to sit (very easy to get her to snuggle the way I do it up
there), which would establish PERFECT kino, then a massage, then some hypnosis, then
she's MINE. Simple!

What could POSSIBLY go wrong? Never underestimate nature's ability to cockblock.

We leave her apartment, head up to the roof, and her body language is funky, like she
knows she's about to do some serious fucking. She's got a wild streak so she'd be game,
but even a makeout to get out of the FRIEND ZONE finally would be fine. We take the
stairs up to the roof, walk around, while it's still a little dark, and I move us towards my
favorite spot, when suddenly we notice a FUCKING HOMELESS COUPLE parked in a
CARDBOARD BOX on the roof! She looks to me for guidance (if she STILL wanted
to fuck that would have been freaky), and since they're street people, I tell her we need
to go quietly, and she follows my lead back downstairs.

Talk about a RUINED fucking moment. They weren't bothering anyone but no way
was I gonna take chances. Worse yet, I tipped my hand. Now she's gonna THINK about
everything. FUCK!!!

Ray


The Philadelphia Fire Department would soon shut down my favorite L-II venue, so
this was my final attempted lay there, perfectly executed, save for the obligatory homeless
trespassers trainwrecking my perfect morning. Sex was going to occur, and we both knew it.


484
She accompanied me to the roof as if a blissfully drugged lamb being led to the slaughter. I
could have recovered, I suppose, but my hand had been tipped, and the passive-aggressive spell
broken. I wound up on tilt.


GFTOW.why? I had everything I needed right here, and could have just
hypnofucked her in her apartment on whim. I had intended to do this on the rooftop, against
the backdrop of a picturesque sunrise, on a warm, late-summer morning, at dawn. I was not
concerned with my technique, game, or whether or not the gimmick was properly deployed; I
knew all that was covered. A redux just wouldnt have been the same, because the delicious L-
III tension we had accrued, had been smashed, and that sucked. Soon after, I would relocate,
which terminated my final high-quality EL-II.

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Three-Tent-City-(Full-Text)


485
Lesson Thirty-Four Point One:
Midnight Train To Georgia

In retrospect, the sudden lifestyle boost was no surprise. Things had stabilized for me
post-bankruptcy, thanks to an assortment of internet revenue, from Foxes and 29 Reasons, plus
my horse-racing book, How To Break Even At The Track, which was selling decently at $39.95
a copy, and thanks to my new Revolution Guide To Sports Betting, which I marketed for the
2000 NFL season, at $55.00 a copy, with free selections for the year to anyone who purchased.
Freelance gigs had picked up, while horseplaying had become more promising, and everything
added up to enough to pay my bills, including the six credit-cards I had amassed, some of which
I was using to fund my writing, which, in turn, would generate enough revenue to pay off the
cards.

Alpha Search Lands My Dream Job

The best job I ever had, save for Anderson, was landed in unorthodox fashion, over
an IM on AOL, of all things. Thanks to a 4-17 start on my NFL best-bets, when I had claimed
60 percent winners the year before, book sales had stalled, while freelance work dried up, the
seduction community was taking its toll on my text revenue, and I began seeking more stable
employment in center city, but with poor results. Jobs were around, but nothing worth dropping
my internet ventures for. Then, out of the blue, I IMed an attorney in Georgia, with a legal
question, only to be asked some office questions in return. Next thing I knew, she was telling me
about how both of her family firms support staff had quit, and, by later that evening, I had a job
as their lawfirms administrator, starting in October, 2000.

Because employment was so difficult to come by, and because Albany, GA was
almost a thousand miles away, I asked for everything I needed to justify the risk of this new
employment adventure. That included:

1. A signing bonus of $3,000.00, up front, to be paid back at $50.00 a week,
for a little over a year, with me keeping the balance if terminated at any
time (but not if I quit).

2. Employer-provided housing, in case they wound up sending me home, so I
wouldnt be stuck with any bills on a place in which Id no longer be living.

3. Salary of $25,000.00 a year, or $500.00 a week, including the housing
benefit. This was equal to around $35,000.00+in Philadelphia.

4. All relocation expenses covered.

5. Start date of October 1, 2000, so I could enjoy the signing bonus.



486
Executives get fireproofing deals like this all the time, but most litigation-support staff
does not. As it turned out, Albany had few attorneys, and no paralegal schools, so the talent pool
was thin, particularly with the nations unemployment rate at 4.0 percent. The absence of
discrimination and retaliation made me the logical candidate for the job, even with the added
recruiting costs, still lower than training a Food Lion employee, as they had done before me.
Once I finished up my business in Philadelphia, and enjoyed the TURD-money, I headed to my
new job, for the Jones Law Firm, headed by former Albany district attorney, Earl Brother
Jones, in partnership with his daughter, Stefanie. Their paralegal, Grady Etheredge, was a
former schools chancellor, and a no questions asked friend of Brothers.

Dad grew up in Cedartown, GA, near Rome, where his then-wealthy family owned a
cotton mill (that went bust in 1938), and not far from Atlanta, but several hours northwest from
my new home. It was nice to live in his home state, and much different from Philadelphia,
though pretty similar to its suburbs. I even had my own office! The citys limited bus system
serving the area, from 5:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. As Ive never held a drivers license, I did not have
a car, which restricted my social and commuting options. To find a place to live, I hopped on the
#5 bus, which stopped outside the office, and hopped off on a quiet street called Nottingham,
which had some of the nicest apartments (rowhomes) in the city. A three-bedroom was rented
for me, at $500.00 a month, with a mild ambush on the combined utility bill of $150.00+a
month. I was situated a quarter-mile from almost all of the citys shopping, including the Albany
Mall, in about the only place one could easily function without an automobile.

Prior to landing in my new apartment, I stayed at the Hampton Inn, nearby, after being
stranded at the Days Inn for a week or so, including a target-rich weekend that had my hotel
playing host to a womens college track meet. New cities are invigorating, because of the fresh
target-pool, and the Bible Belt is particularly loaded with barely-legal RHC+types, seeking an
escape, or marriage to men like the good-catch I had become, particularly in an area where the
help-wanted ads specify some high school required, and dropping out at fifteen, to get ones
GED at sixteen, is almost as common as graduating. I was earning more than almost anyone
without a degree, who did not work for Cooper Tire, Albany State University (in East Albany),
Merck, or one of the furniture stores (I almost quit the lawfirm when I saw how much the
salespeople were making). For the first time since high school, my mere existence was a DHV,
and this time privilege had nothing to do with it.

Discrimination, and my resulting feral employment, were responsible for this turn in
my finances. Since the barrier is artificial, its removal can be instantaneous, instantly
transforming me into a high-earning, high-level office worker, with an excellent lifestyle. As I
aged, and my coworker-class aged along with me, the beauty premium had become less of a
threat, since I was now being considered for the skill jobs, rather than as a hired-gun covering
the front desk, which they hired the day prior to my arrival, a female construction worker, with
whom I got along well, especially since I was training her. Unfortunately, Brother was a bit
stereotypical in his office management, so I lost most of my influence even before I began,
saved mostly by his large investment in me. His previous support staff, who had assumed the


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firm would be lost without them, wound up being needed only sparingly, and making my job a
bit more difficult, particularly with rebuilding the IT infrastructure in my own image.

Politics did enter the fray in Georgia, thanks to the 2000 presidential election, in which
I supported Ralph Nader, but with my Pennsylvania vote meaning nothing. A feminist Gore
supporter was campaigning in the aisle, and I mentioned Nader, to which she said I was tossing
the election to Bush. I asked about one-way civil-rights, and how the Democrats needed to
stop reverse-discrimination, to which she said I dont think white men are ever discriminated
against. I noted that I was a thousand miles from home, because this was the closest lawfirm
that would hire me. Attacking my attitude wasnt going to fly, particularly with me in my shirt-
and-tie, spotlessly groomed, and on my way home from my high-level office job, in a city with
but a few jobs of this kind, a place I would never have otherwise relocated, from a city with
thousands.

Lifestyle Integration: Get While The Getting Is Good

Having been starved of mainstream opportunity for so long, I made the most of
Albany, devoting every available minute to Club-positive pursuits. With two jobs, the internet
venture being the other, I was busy literally every moment, working full days, and then spending
evenings online, marketing my existing work, creating new work, or using my merchant account
to run the psychic gimmick, which had gone alpha, thanks to my charging for readings
(usually $35.00/hour), initially as a means of rejecting the targets who would beg for free
readings. With low infrastructure costs, and a decent primary income, the internet money piled
up quickly, and my credit-card companies began increasing my lines of credit, due to my paying
down my balances, and not seeking credit-limit increases.

Because offshore betting had not yet been outlawed, sports betting figured
prominently in my relocation. I was supposed to partner with SyndicateDude, with whom I had
traded games successfully that spring (we were 6-0 on double money games), but he left the
country, for legal pastures, and could no longer be found, leaving me to handicap for myself. An
0-5 Sunday wiped out my $400.00 bankroll, at $75.00 a game (plus vig), including a loss on the
Ravens, who failed to score a touchdown, as part of a five-game drought. Initially, I felt foolish
for relocating, since I had just lost the extra money I had gained by taking the job, but that would
soon reverse, as my NFL picks stabilized, and then began to click, inching me closer to a merely
bad year, from the early-season disaster. Work was easy, and I wrote a book on hypnosis, which
made a few thousand dollars for a few weeks worth of writing every evening, and the internet
revenue was still steady enough to help, but it would take time for my finances to really take off,
absent a big win, or more internet sales.

I could have accumulated money more rapidly in Albany, but chose to live very well
instead. I would eat out anywhere, buy whatever I wanted, and think nothing of going out for
drinks every night, particularly when I was still getting situated. The two main L-I venues were
Charley Bs, a southern bar, and the more Yankee-positive Frozen Paradise, which also


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attracted a large base of more tolerant southerners. My boss was well-known, which conveyed
status most everywhere in town, so life simplified pretty quickly. The shopping was amazing,
particularly at the mall, or the nearby Sams Club, WalMart, Dollar General, and a hundred or so
other stores. My inner rib lover quickly found Guss Barbecue, with its all-you-can-eat rib
challenges, for which Id prepare by skipping lunch, arriving off the 4:40 bus out of work
Friday, just as the first batch was placed in the $9.95 buffet, from which Id gobble a few dozen.
The mall was the most target-rich venue, other than church, but I didnt feel like feigning an
interest in Christianity. Guss won me over when I couldnt stay for the all-you-can-eat special
one night, but was given three extra ribs with my takeout for the all-you-can-eat experience.
Warning: despite the reputation, few barbecue joints in Georgia live up to the hype; Guss did.

I was definitely ResumeDude in Albany, with many barely-legal RHCs establishing
proximity, and effortless EL-IIs, openly probing my marital fitness. Had I stayed, marriage was
the likely result. I had enough going for me that my reputation would precede me in a good way,
except for my being a Yankee. The financial boost was huge, with four solid months of income
extending my run of good credit, and on-time payments of all bills. The respect I would get was
subtle, but definitely tangible, and was a definite divergence from the anonymity of Manhattan
and Philadelphia. My internet-haters were still flaming me over living with Mom, even after I
had moved a thousand miles away, but few gammas seemed to care about the truth, and it was
not my job to report my whereabouts to internet trainwreckers, who would only attempt to
interfere with what I had built, lest it be proven that I was employed, lived alone, and was
earning more than many who claimed financial superiority. Those earnings would accelerate
considerably after Thanksgiving.

Getting My Gambling Groove Back

Thanks to PowerBase, which I had coded several years earlier, I was able to fire up its
ratings for the 2000-01 season, which I began by assigning estimated ratings to all three-
hundred thirty or so Division I schools, based on preseason projections, last years ratings,
whether or not they figure to improve, changes (or lack thereof) in coaching or player personnel,
and the schools rating history. I did this on three days worth of commutes to and from my
regular job. Once finished, I found myself with five days off for Thanksgiving (including
Wednesday), a perfect opportunity to enter the seasons data to date, with a few weeks of games
for the program to chew upon. By Friday, the ratings were current, and I began wagering. By
Sunday night, I was back in the black for the season, thanks to an NFL sweep of my parlays.

With only a regular lawfirm job, betting was still my only way up in the status
rankings. Without PowerBase, and its suddenly profitable ROI, I was just a regular beta office
grunt, a decent provider for an RHC, and one who might, with game, score himself a super-
elite, or SHB, if fortunate, persistent, and patient. With betting, however, I could amass multiple
Spitzers in a few hours or less, and had begun doing so yet again, this time without having to
divert my winnings to cover my infrastructure costs. The effect on my lifestyle game was
dramatic, with me rollin VIP and not even realizing it, since everything seemed so cheap, like


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the $4.50+sandwiches at Heavenly Ham, or their $17.00+racks of ribs, when Lloyds ($9.99 at
Sams Club) just wouldnt do, and Guss wasnt having a special.

Emo Game Enhances Lifestyle Game

George Sodini tried it the other way around: it didnt work. His attempt to enhance
his game by adding Emo skillz was a dismal failure, even as his nest-egg continued to
accrue into the six-figure range. Meanwhile, I had gone from broke, with strong Emo game, to
flush, with strong Emo game, in the space of two months! Had I worked one or two jobs over
the years, and had LTRs with one or two targets, I would have been as lost as he was. Instead,
despite an average income, my Emo game gave me a slaughtering advantage in L-I venues, and
in any EL-II. Finally, I had the best of both worlds, with the interesting, creative lifestyle of an
author, along with the stability of a paralegal/lawfirm administrator. The combination was
quickly proving unstoppable, with my game having only one weakness: age.

The Money Train

Sometimes, it pays for a bettor to throw caution to the wind, and just put every dollar
he has on an outcome he sees, prior to the oddsmakers catching on. Stumbling onto such
longshot greatness is rare; I had done so in 1982, with the champion pacer, Cam Fella, only to
have Banned4Life talk me out of going to the Cane Pace, due to the lock, Merger. I didnt
check the entries, and wound up missing 6-1 and 3-1 payoffs (thats 19-1 for a parlay) on Cam
Fella for the two heats. Fortunately, when I found the 2000 Baltimore Ravens, I did not let
theory, or anything else, get in the way of a windfall. While the gamma-whales were spending
thousands figuring out how to scheme the target-class, I was deep in alpha isolation, watching
the final week of the NFL season, with the revenge match of Broncos-49ers, eleven years
removed from the 55-10 Super Bowl blowout inflicted by Montana, Rice, and company. The
Broncos slaughtered their hapless opponents, which left me unimpressed, and were headed to
Baltimore for the wildcard game, for which they were a three-point dog.

Somehow, I had managed to recover a winning record on my best-bets, which stood at
34-28, for a run of 30-11, after the horrific start. With little else to do on Sundays, and an old
school Sunday ticket secondary to the geography, that gave me up to five games a week, via the
Tallahassee and Columbus affiliates, I had tuned in to the league pretty well, with my standard
contrarian methods clicking into overdrive. I was convinced the Ravens would shut down the
49ers, and made them one of a pair of best-bets, both of which won, with the Ravens suffocating
the 49ers, 21-3, in a defensive performance that convinced me they were going to win the Super
Bowl, for which their futures price sat at a juicy 12-1, with the Titans, 6-point favorites, up
next. Not only did I take the 12-1, and the points, but I began closing my basketball parlays
during the week with them as well, greatly amplifying my payoff if the Ravens won, because I
did this on the moneyline, of +220, or $2.20 to $1.00.



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My winning streak had hit full stride one Saturday in early December, when I walked
out Saturday morning with three games selected, bet $82.50 to win $75.00 on all three, plus a
$15.00 parlay, for a total risk of $262.50, to win $315.00 if all three games hit, win $52.50 if two
hit, lose $105.00 if one hit, and my entire bankroll (plus part of my paycheck, and psyche) if I
got swept. When I came home that night to a 3-0 finish, I was off to the races, continuing to ride
the Ravens, via the parlays. That Sunday, I stood to win $400.00+if they won, and about half
that if they covered without winning. They won easily, and their futures price dropped to 4-1.
The Giants beat the Eagles, 20-10, for the other money game win, and my best-bet record
jumped to 38-28, with three games remaining: Giants-Vikings, Ravens-Raiders, and the Super
Bowl, which would pit the winners of the conference title games. The Raiders were touchdown
favorites, with the Ravens at +260 on the moneyline. Once again, I dumped, and opened parlays
with the Ravens on the moneyline.

On one of these weekdays, I was kept awake by the USC-UCLA game, where USC
(+2), on whom I stood to win $550.00+on my open parlays, kept me up until 2:00 a.m., by
rallying from twenty-five down, only to lose by three, after passing up a quick two at the end,
that would have covered. Despite the hit, I wound up $900.00+to the good on Sunday, when the
Ravens suffocated the Raiders, and the Giants came through for me, with a 41-0 home win,
hitting both my best bets, and sending my record to 40-28, with two wagers left: the Super Bowl
side and total. I already had the Ravens, who were finally favored, this time by three, and
pondered the games over/under of thirty-two, a ridiculously low expectation for the total, but an
understandable one, given the defenses involved. My inner contrarian took the over without
thinking, but only in a parlay with the Ravens, who I couldnt see losing. Just prior to kickoff, I
tossed a spare $150.00 I from another account on their backs. I publicly predicted a final score
of 33-13.

The Ravens did not let me down, and won easily, 31-7 (!!), thanks to three
touchdowns in thirty-eight seconds, courtesy of back-to-back kickoff-returns for scores, after an
initial score by the Ravens, which turned a 10-0 game into 24-7, in the blink of an eye, and
cemented the win for both of my wagers, plus a four-figure profit, with PowerBase steamrolling
towards March Madness on the hoop side. My NFL best-bet record wound up 42-28, or 60
percent on the nose! The seduction library (combination of my texts) was selling steadily, as
were the other books, and I was even getting some repeat psychic customers, so the money just
kept piling up. All the while, my commercial wrongfooters were misleading the gammas into
oblivion, by claiming I was unemployed, and still living with Mom. Unfortunately, they would
soon be correct yet again, but for much different reasons this time, and not for long with regard
to the employment flame.

All Good Things Must End Sooner Or Later

Unfortunately, the Jones Law Firm was not in the best of physical or financial health,
during my tenure. When your bookie becomes a more reliable paycheck than your boss, it pays
to keep your resume fresh, and I had. It also pays to set the office up so the $7.00-an-hour


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corporate hired-gun they replace you with can continue to do your job, which I also did.
Because I was fired after four months, most of my signing bonus didnt have to be repaid, so I
wound up banking very nicely, from just my primary income. My furniture was rented, so it all
went back, save for a $79.99, thirteen-inch television set I had purchased, when I saw how
expensive the rentals were. I gave that, and whatever food and other stuff was left in the home,
to my coworker, in exchange for her cleaning out the apartment. My new computer went back to
Brother, but I e-mailed the files back home, and ordered a new Dell, on credit, to arrive the day
before I got there. On Thursday, February 1, 2001, at 10:00 a.m., I headed home, my journey
beginning at the Greyhound station in Albany, with a few thousand dollars in TURD-money to
see me through upon my return.

In preparation for my return, I cleaned out my offshore betting accounts, and had
$100.00 left on Wednesday, which I wagered on a parlay of Kentucky and North Carolina, who
each won easily, for a $270.00 win. This showed the power of PowerBase, and the huge
payoff for my labor, dating back to 1993, with the software, and 1989, with the Elo system, itself
an extension of another mindbuilding activity, i.e., chess, and a personification of the story I had
read in The Handicapper seventeen years earlier. Without PowerBase, I never would have had
the time, nor the expertise, to pull off the streak I had, one which allowed me to fully capitalize
on the huge turnaround in the NFL. From Thanksgiving on out, that season, I lost very few
games, hitting something like 64 percent for the year in basketball, along with the 60 percent on
NFL best-bets, including the absolutely incredible 38-11 finish. What seemed like a big break
or a fluke, was actually the product of many years with my alpha gimmick.

In an inspiring example of lifestyle integration, I scheduled my return flight around
my basketball betting, which extended my trip considerably, since this ruled out all but the 7:00
p.m. flight home, which was met by the 10:00 a.m. Greyhound from Albany, that hit Atlanta
around 3:00 p.m., just shy of the time needed to make the 3:15 p.m. flight home. This left me
four hours to find a Kinkos in Atlantas business district, which I did, and then placed $75.00 to
win on three teams again, plus a small parlay, on my way to the airport, where I ran piss-poor
game due to being tired. I had snared an $88.00 ticket on an AirTran (nee ValueJet, After The
Fire) DC-9, which wound up delayed for three hours, with my bag delayed another hour after
my arrival, thanks to being demolished in transit, perhaps after being opened, due to being
overstuffed. That netted me a free roundtrip ticket anywhere, which I had planned to use in an
internet libel lawsuit I had filed in Florida (with two days off in Georgia), but I wound up
settling, since I was no longer in proximity to Florida.

At the airport in Atlanta, I would learn that my first two games had split, while the
third was losing by twelve, with a team laying five-and-a-half, an almost impossible task, given
they had only five minutes left in the game. They pulled off the miracle, in overtime, winning by
six (a total fluke win unique to basketball), and scoring me another $52.50 profit. I finally get
home around 2:30 a.m., watch Rush Hour on Channel 401 of my new, digital cable system,
assemble my computer, win another $400.00+at the Meadowlands (harness) the next night,
another $300.00 on a three-team, NBA parlay, and take my sweet time looking for a job, as I


492
slowly began to lose back some of the racetrack winnings. For the most part, however, I was set,
the fruits of four months of working the equivalent of two or three jobs. My once-shaky credit-
rating had stabilized, just as the credit-bubble was inflating, which would prove a huge boon to
my cash flow, albeit via borrowing.

The four-month excursion to Albany was beneficial in many ways, particularly in
proving that I could live and work independently, most anywhere in the United States. Staying
in Albany was not an option, unless I wanted to sell furniture, which I strongly considered,
because it would have required me to air too much of the firms dirty laundry. Stefanie, Brother,
and even Grady, all died within a few years of my working there, with the father-daughter
attorneys out sick most of the time, usually with one or both in the hospital. I was called upon to
do just about everything, pushing the boundaries of litigation support, and protecting their
reputation against concerns they were no longer fit for their jobs (they were, but barely).

Some highlights of my stay included:

Clearing out a box of debt for one client, reducing it to a fresh start with a
four-page petition, and preparing Brother for the Meeting of Creditors by
handing him the file, with instructions, five minutes beforehand, the first
time he had seen it. Discharge was granted.

Unraveling a cops claim of seeing a gun in the backseat of a car, to justify
a search, by calling the weather lady to testify to the zero visibility that
evening, making such a sighting impossible, and the search illegal.

Dismantling a claim that one cannot test positive for crack via a contact
high. Brother said find me something on the internet that proves this.
Fifteen minutes later, thanks to Dogpile, I handed him a printout of the only
study which proved this, one of newborns who had tested positive, four
days after birth, i.e., not prenatally.

Getting a couple their $1,700.00+big-screen television set back for ten
easy payments of $50.00 beginning after discharge, i.e., months later,
knowing full well the store did not want to waste fuel or movers on
retrieving used junk.

Seeing the poor trifecta clients: men who would get divorced, wind up
bankrupt, and so despondent that theyd turn to crime, with the firm
representing them every step of the way down.

Watching the first subway series in forty-four years from a thousand miles
away, in the deep south.



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Hanging out in bars that had to close at midnight on Saturday, due to the
blue laws, only to discover the loophole, that had everyone ordering
enough liquor for the remainder of the evening, with the bar closing
normally at 4:00 a.m., but not serving after midnight.

Riding shotgun for forty miles each way, in the cab of a truck (without the
truck), without a seatbelt, to serve a subpoena for a custody hearing on a
high-school student in Cordele.

Finding a misplaced file while being pressured by a convicted murderer,
who had grown suspicious of my ex-DA boss. This is what they mean by
ability to work under pressure.

The 4:40 p.m. bus from work on Friday, landing me at Guss at 4:57 p.m.,
after a skipped lunch, followed by a skipped breakfast and lunch on
Saturday, and a replay at 5:00 p.m., then doing my laundry (every other
week), while betting the evening games, then awaiting the scores. One
Saturday, I was live with a bunch of parlays on San Francisco +7, I
think against San Diego, only to find the line had dropped to San Diego -6,
opening up a middle (not a true middle, since that must occur at the same
time). Though I didnt bet, the final score of 89-82 was a microcosm of the
entire season.

Having enough money to do anything, thanks to the wagers Id place during
lunch.

Being probed for marriage by barely-legal RHCs, favorably!

Weather! Summer would have been brutal, which is why I didnt mind
returning in early February. January was cold down there, but Christmas
evening was sixty degrees, at midnight.

With all due respect to the OTL, SHBDye, and probably half the target-roster from
this text, they never needed this level of office skillz, because theyd get hired at their first
interview, and paid more than I ever earned, even here. While SHBAmtrak may have hated on
gamblers, without PowerBase, or my betting, I was nothing as a lifestyle PUA, but with it, I had
become one of the wealthiest bachelors in town. I was never going to match the $75,000.00+the
OTL was pulling down by this point, but PowerBase did enable me to mitigate more of the
economic damage than otherwise would have been possible, and it still, even now, has jackpot
potential, that could put me on par with LimoDude, very swiftly. Since money follows
knowledge, the windfalls tend to come later in life. At forty-three, I am actually quite young for
one who does this, thanks to Dad having turned me loose as a prodigious, risk-embracing
toddler.


494

I suppose the advice I would get not to bet could be considered trainwrecking, given
that listening to it would have left me broke upon my return to Philadelphia, and made Albany
more like Project Manhattan II. Instead, my refusal to cave paid off, with a lasting boost to my
finances. This is where listening to popular gurus can be detrimental, because an off the
grid existence like that of a winning bettor is not a blueprint they can lay down for you, since
doing so would require them to part with trade secrets. The general advice not to risk your
money is sound, but in my case, the bigger risk was not cashing in on seasons like 2000-01.
Moreover, achieving profitability is such an arduous process, that any bumps along the way, of
which there will be many,

Inflating The Credit Bubble

My low income was just enough to support myself, as outlined above. Living with
Mom reduced my expenses considerably, and, beginning in 2001, the now-infamous credit-
bubble, had the major lenders offering me increasingly high credit-lines, and new cards,
including a very timely $1,000.00-limit card in July, 2001, that covered two months of living
expenses, and allowed me to clear up a nasty ear-infection, with a $56.00+medicine I couldnt
have otherwise afforded (if this happens to you, try a Community Health Center, as mine will
offer free meds, and maybe yours will too). This money, of course, was not taxable, either,
leaving me flush, while appearing to be one step above poverty. The most common trick to
get me to qualify for the cards was this question:

State your household income.

Since I lived with Mom, I was getting cards based on our combined income, an absurd
way to dish out credit, but I would take every subprime dollar they had to offer, since the worst
that would happen was bankruptcy in 2004, a point to which I knew I could cruise if worst
came to worst. Nothing had gone wrong, and I continued to make my payments on time. Cap
One then introduced a new borrowing mechanism: its secured bank account, where one could
literally purchase credit, at $5.00 on the card-limit, for every dollar in the secured account.
Channeling Marty Frankel, I used a $600.00 cash advance to fund the account, secured
$3,000.00 in additional credit, and even got the $600.00 back a year later, after meeting the
minimum payments, with my limits increasing all the while, and my rate negotiated down to 10
percent. Mom, meanwhile, got a $3,500.00 card from one bank, and several other high-limit
cards from others, and we were still able to meet the payments, because my income was
increasing, and hers had stabilized.

Like most Americans, the credit seemed like free money, even if we knew wed
have to pay a few hundred a month. In Moms case, however, this was a lifesaver, because it
enabled her to delay collecting social-security until age sixty-five, resulting in a benefit several
hundred dollars a month higher. She died at sixty-eight, so she wound up collecting less, but the
security of knowing her benefit was higher was worth it. Had she waited until seventy, she


495
would have collected even more, and the break-even point for that delay is eighty-two. Taking
benefits at sixty-two should be done only in extreme cases, because it really is not enough of a
benefit. Mom wound up collecting for almost four years before she died, though she did default
on her credit-cards, once she got sick, and I wound up defaulting on mine, for reasons which Ill
discuss a bit later. In the event I would go belly-up, my investments in knowledge (PAP), and
intellectual property, were bankruptcy-proof, so the lifestyle boost was permanent.

Moms increasing age, and the longer-than-expected mainstreaming of the
community, convinced me to move back home, this time as her primary caregiver, though she
wouldnt really need me until early 2006. Nevertheless, she was aging, and I began running
more errands for her, doing more around the home, like cooking, and making sure she didnt fall
when she had to walk somewhere (recently, a group devoted to stopping falls among the elderly
has sprung up). My poverty was not intentional, but it was pretty much forced. Because I was
not sure how long it would take for the internet to kick in for me, or how long Mom would
remain healthy, I devised a new strategy:

1. Borrow as much as I could, and use the money to cover my bills, while
using the free time it would generate, to create intellectual property, such as
PAP, or a new seduction text, to generate income for Moms retirement.

2. Focus more on freelance work and temp gigs, in an attempt to earn enough
regular income to cover my immediate expenses, what I call the strike-
silver approach.

3. Fight UPenn, by suing over its affirmative-action program, and its direct
discrimination and retaliation against me.

4. Wait for the community to mainstream. This was easy, because the
money Id make after this occurred would be just as useful in Moms
retirement, as in 2001. I figured the Red Queen would be done by 2003.

The UPenn lawsuit quickly became a mess, one which would even entangle the
community, as UPenn began involving my internet life in its defense. It would also be the first
of multiple lawsuits I would file over the next seven years, opening what Mom called The Law
Office. This was actually by design, an efficient way to use the free time I had, while being on
call for Mom, and waiting for internet work to come in. Searching for office work was not
working, and UPenn had too many jobs for me not to attempt to level the playing field. I would
lose that suit, plus one more discrimination lawsuit related to the events after the first case, and
lose several internet lawsuits, while settling a few minor claims, with the net result of
intensifying the internet flamewars.

Without realizing it, I had stoked the community fires by continuing to exist.
Because I was not dependent on revenue as a seduction guru, I could not be put out of


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business, and had even vacated USENET for a while, to focus on my work in Georgia. Upon my
return, I discovered a much larger community, with several of the Class of 1998 having gone
commercial, and Formhandle promoting his Fast Seduction 101 website
(http://www.fastseduction.com). Mystery had begun offering bootcamps in August, 2000,
initially as a desperation move, upon his return from Los Angeles, after his attempt to make it as
a magician did not meet his standard for results. His first bootcamp was a huge success, though
it only broke even, at $600.00 per student. By late 2001, he was charging $1,500.00 a student,
and what would come to be known as Project Hollywood would catapult the community into
the internet mainstream, followed shortly thereafter by the regular mainstream. The Class of
1998 was about to change the world.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?10713-Lesson-Thirty-Four-
Point-One-Midnight-Train-To-Georgia-(Full-Text)


497
Field Report One Hundred Four:
My First Official Pluck

The ultimate in risk-free stripper game, shows the value of canned material:

FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: My First REAL Stripper #Close
NOW PLAYING: Independent Women, Pt. 2, by Destiny's Child
IN THE NEWS: Analysts See Market Drop As Huge Buying Opportunity

Finally #closed a STRIPPER! Didn't even have to spend on her, and she
VOLUNTEERED her #, so I knew it was legit. SHBExotic (9.3) looked exotic, and
earns her living as an exotic dancer, so that's her name. Saw her doing a quasi-
bellydance routine on stage, summoned her over after her set, and began asking her
where she learned to dance like that. Said she did a workshop on middle-eastern, then
responded well when I mentioned hypnosis.

We're talking and it's going great and then she tells me she needs to make money, but to
call her in the next few days. I do this and we chat for like an hour, making plans to
hook up. I got three weeks to kill and a few grand in extra money (just got a job where
they paid me to relocate and gave me an advance against earnings I pay back at $50 a
week, to protect against getting fired quickly), so my confidence was high. I think she
picked up on that, because I FELT successful, plus I was unhurried since I got nothing to
do for three weeks before I move (the job is out-of-state).

Followed the group's advice to play it cool, by not giving her my number when she
asked. Told her I'd be back in touch with her. Gonna call her next week (to play it cool
first) and then close the deal.

Ray


This is where advanced PUA skillz become survival skillz. I had used mine to
open Fort Knox. To use the baseball analogy, I was like a slugger inviting the pitcher to bring
the heater right down the middle. The power exchange was huge, and mistakes could have been
made all over the place. A newbie PUA wouldnt have had a prayer, assuming he had the
target-selection skillz necessary to identify her in the first place, let alone beckon her from a
distance, fully confident she would comply, and visit.



498

I ran the ASF playbook to perfection, even incorporating a few of Mysterys stripper
tactics, but with a Foxhunting bent. This was a guaranteed lay, and she had all but told me as
much. By thirty-three, I had learned to recognize an empty-net, even if this target never truly
qualified as one. She just wanted me, and was, for lack of a better term, ripe to be fucked, like a
wicked, stripper/sorceress version of HBChina. Once the phone conversation verified the EL-II,
and her number, it was smooth sailing. She was definitely a sorceress, and seemed capable of
devouring men, which, of course, made her all the more compelling.

One thing this didnt do was help my eating habits, because I had just plucked a
stripper, while weighing a lifetime peak 230#. I began to think Emo game trumped even
looks, or that being a big guy was not the negative I had previously thought. This, of course,
was the worst possible weight-loss motivation, though it did allow for completely guilt-free
enjoyment of my weekly Battle of Guss Barbecue, in which I was deliciously undefeated.

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499
Field Report One Hundred Five:
Praise The Lord

Small cities in the Bible Belt can be interesting:

DATE: October 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR+: Settling In And Getting Back Into The Game
NOW PLAYING: It Wasn't Me, by Shaggy
IN THE NEWS: Unemployment Now 3.9 Percent

MAN!! Finally got settled in GEORGIA!! There's some major TALENT down here, if
you know what I mean. Saw what may be the hottest chick I ever laid eyes on in a
Christian music store, but was with my boss and couldn't do shit. Boss is a regular there
so that's out, and I'mstill figuring out the bible chicks.

Visited this WEIRD club near the Hampton Inn that's only open weekend nights, and is
a predominantly black club Thursdays, then a predominantly white club on Fridays and
Saturdays. Thought I was doing really well with this two-set (one HB, one NHB), until I
realized they were HIRED by the club, when they disappeared to go dance in a cage.
What's the fucking POINT? #closed one of them who wanted to learn how to hypnotize
guys fromme, but too risky: she was with some thugs that probably would have robbed
my home when I was out with her. Not hot enough to take that risk. First live target
was more what I expect by now: DAY GAME, and SHE #closed ME! Here's how:

Woke up as normal in the morning, when I see the 5"11" SHBTall (9.0) at the bus stop,
which is cool, because I'll know after my shower if I missed the bus, which I can catch
over on Dawson Road on the way down. Transit systemhere SUCKS. Grab my
shower, get dressed, and she's still waiting, and we start chatting. Turns out her car is in
the shop, and she takes CABS to and fromwork a lot. NINE FUCKING DOLLARS for
a chick making 18k a year (she told me). She's got a kid so she's on the straight and
narrow now, and into the good-catch angle, so I play that up.

The extra-distance busride works to my advantage here, since it gives us like forty
minutes to talk instead of twenty (bus pauses at the mall for like ten minutes). We have
a nice conversation, and what do you know, she works down the block fromme as well.
Knowing this, I play it cool and don't try to #close her. Only half-awake, I stumble into
work and there's a MESSAGE on my phone fromSHBTall! Chick actually LOOKED
UP my work number and called me the second she got into her job! We chat for a bit
and then meet up after work to take the bus home together. Nice gesture, but boss is a
rabid RACIST and starts giving me shit. Glad I got a big advance to come down here (a
MUST, I was right) because I didn't take his crap, and he just made a few snide remarks,
asking me how my "nigger gal" was. Real fucking classy. He's as bad as what I left
Philadelphia for, but wtf he hired me. Funny thing is he's nice to blacks when dealing


500
with them, it's like the racismhere is all talk. In Philadelphia it's the opposite, where
they don't say shit but their actions say it all.

Stop in this redneck bar on the way home: fascinating fucking place. There's an
HBBartender there and some idiot froma pest-control company is offering her an
OFFICE job. She's being polite but I bet she makes triple what he's offering. It is SO
fucking FUNNY living down here, much different than home, but this is where the work
is. Nice place really, but I don't like that I blend in because I'ma WASP, but that offsets
my being a YANKEE. Some prejudice there but not too bad. Education level is LOW,
so chicks who are into smart guys can like SMELL me.

Firm's got an NHBReceptionist (7.0) who's REALLY cool, but she's got a typical
redneck boyfriend (she got hired when they met her through representing himin
criminal and divorce cases). She sends MAD IOIs, all but telling me I can fuck her, but
she thinks I think I'mtoo good for her, and she's RIGHT! Worried more about the b/f
and don't need some loser going off on me because I took the one attractive chick who'll
have him; don't ever want to get that desperate. She's late-thirties, has a grown daughter
(gave birth at 16), and pointed out that she's done a lot earlier, so teen pregnancy has an
upside I never thought of. She's definitely attractive, but that would also complicate
things at work. We talk a lot on cig breaks ($20.00 a carton, everything's cheap here),
and eat lunch out sometimes. Bosses buy us lunch once or twice a week; real FAMILY
lawfirm. Plan to do a lot of "bible studying, since no one ever has premarital sex hehe.
Ray


What happens in bible-study, stays in bible-study!


The woman Brother called my nigger gal, was a convenient way to tweak him,
but she was intelligent, gorgeous, and a good parent, who pretty much kept to herself at home,
when not working. I admired her initiative in looking up my number at work and having a
message on my desk before I even arrived from a half-block away, recognizing it as a sign that
my lifestyle game had kicked in, creating an effortless opportunity. She saw me early in the
morning, on my way to work, well-dressed, and living in the nicest apartment row in our
complex, all of which were DHVs, even if she wasnt a golddigger. She was not the only target
in the city, but working and living next door to each other made this a fishbowl game.
Secondary to my policy not to mix work and seduction, any drama with NHBReceptionist was
precluded. Had she been pharmaceutical-grade, however, I cant say what might have
happened (or not), particularly with me a good catch for the first time in years.

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Five-Praise-The-Lord-(Full-Text)


501
Field Report One Hundred Six:
Field Collision

A field collision occurs when the "community" crashes into the "real world," either
through target- or rival-awareness. This one was amusing:

DATE: October 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FU: Guy Who Stole My STRIPPER Wants Advice On What To
Do
NOW PLAYING: Independent Women, Pt. 2, by Destiny's Child
IN THE NEWS: Stocks Continue To Tank

To the ASF reader who STOLE MY CHICK: way to go! Write your own book, dude.
Someone e-mails me and asks for advice on stripper game, based on my posts to ASF.
We exchange a bunch of mail, and he reveals he met her at a club near me, #closed her,
then fucked her, and now she's his girlfriend. I give himsome advice and then ask about
the dancer, thinking I might know her. He tells me who she is, and I do know her. She's
SHBExotic.

I keep letting himrun his mouth a bit then ask himwhy she changed her number. Turns
out it wasn't because of me. We laugh and he tells me about how he got her and
everything. Had I called her back, it'd have been me. Doesn't always pay to play it cool
by waiting or not giving your #, especially with a stripper.
Ray


So much for playing it cool, or the belief that the internet seduction tactics werent
spilling over into the offline world. TrustFundDude was right: strike while the iron was hot.


I had let theory get in the way of a stripper lay. For shame. I also suspect this was not
a PUA, but SHBExotic herself, which would mean I definitely had the lay. I made a note to
touch base with SHBExotic on my return, or next visit, to Philadelphia, which could have been
Christmas, but this time basketball really was more important, due to my hall-of-fame season
as a handicapper.

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Six-Field-Collision-(Full-Text)


502
Field Report One Hundred Seven:
Yet Another Golddigger

Albanys amalgamated answer to the OTL:

DATE: November 2000
FROM: Ray (Age 33)
SUBJ ECT: FR++: Dinner Date With SHBTeller
NOW PLAYING: That Don't Impress Me Much, by Shania Twain
IN THE NEWS: U.S. Investigates Cole Bombing

I live in GOLDDIGGER CENTRAL! SHBTeller (9.5) is nineteen, high-school grad,
not going to college, and looking for a HUSBAND. Says she's a virgin. Got to know
her through my bank. Guess my two accounts (internet and personal), and their balances
(been banking) were a DHV, because she's all smiles when I walk in. Bank's empty so
we chat a few. She's doing an IOI dump so I take the hint and #close her, telling her I
gotta get to the gymbefore it gets crowded.

There are like NO "quality" single guys here (i.e., no record, high-school diploma, well-
groomed, stable job, etc. Guys like me stand out down here. Only quality chicks are
young, and usually looking to escape, but this one's parked here. I call her up and ask
her to the most expensive place in the city ($50.00 for dinner for two), and she's
impressed. Been winning on NFL lately and money's been good so I don't give a shit.
Don't have much to spend on down here so I don't mind paying, plus it's more
"traditional."

I feel like I'mbeing AUDITIONED for family life. I let her know I'ma pretty die-hard
bachelor, but open to settling down. She's SMOKIN', but one-dimensional. Got a
goodbye kiss, and declined the bible study.
Ray


What happens in bible study.


This is a bit consolidated, since about four targets fit this prototype, of which
SHBTeller was the hottest, the sweetest, and who Id have chosen, were I not so damned feral.

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Seven-Yet-Another-Golddigger-(Full-Text)


503
Lesson Thirty-Five:
The Commercialization Of The Community

By mid-2001, the ASF flamewars had taken an ugly turn. As an untouchable beta
guru, who had resigned himself to making only a few hundred dollars a month, from books he
had completed years earlier, my pricing scheme, and willingness to post to the free-speech
environment of ASF, were a continuing threat to my competitors profitability. The larger threat
was USENET itself, which could not easily be commercialized, due to its decentralized nature,
the very reason it became the epicenter of truth in an online world of feminist-biased bullshit on
every other forum. This time, however, it was the men who wanted censorship, and control over
the flow of information, so they could profit, and USENET was making that impossible. A
solution had to be found, with me serving as its necessary scapegoat. The seduction
community of which millions now are aware, was created primarily as a device for excluding
me, and my work. I kid you not.

For a group of alleged alpha males, many PUAs on ASF were prone to extreme
whining, particularly about my presence on the board. Amusing unholy alliances would form,
between secretaries and the PUAs who called them hired-guns, or even PUAs and gymnasts,
motivated by covering up child abuse, along with the NLPSeducers they would normally deem
creepy and perverted, if not downright predatory. Any unholy alliance, defined as one between
two natural enemies, is usually an indicator that two corrupt groups have joined forces for mutual
protection against exposure of two greater evils, one for each half of the alliance, with each half
ignoring the evil of the other, when it normally would not. Strange bedfellows, indeed!

Commercialism And Censorship: The Creation Of mASF

Formhandle, a computer tech, arrived on ASF in 1999, and built an archive of its
postings. He came out on top of a flamewar between the SSers and PUAs that ran from late
1998 through early 2000, and decided to solve the flamewars involving me in 2001, by
creating a commercialized version of ASF, run from his website, with message boards which
would censor any mention of me, or my work, with any users who violated the rule having their
accounts terminated. The site would be SPAM-free, with the truckwide loophole, that
exempted certain ASF regulars, Formhandles way of making peace with my adversaries. His
website quickly became the epicenter of the community, thanks in large part to a weekly
posting to ASF, directing the gammas to go to his site instead, which they did, allowing it to
become dominant in what was still a relatively small market, a classic first-mover advantage,
aided by my competitors, who wanted to establish a board where I could not operate
commercially; to this extent, they succeeded.

Once fastseduction.com was active, the flamewars began to dominate ASF, while the
gamma newbies viewed mASF as similar, except for its commercialism, which no one really
seemed to care about, while few noted the censorship (moderation) that was impossible on
USENET. Once mASFs audience grew, the typical alpha-beta-gamma hierarchy emerged,


504
with a small class of advertisers (alphas), using the approval of the PUAs (betas), to convince
the rank-and-file (gammas) to purchase expensive products and workshops, from one of the
cross-promoting community sponsors, for whom Formhandle would become an affiliate
marketer, netting a cut of every sale referred from his site, and eliminating the need for the
gurus to have to beg directly for sales, thus further impressing the gammas.

Rather than bore the reader with details of six years of harassment, defamation, and
death threats, Ill say only that the wild west environment created by Congress has created a
terrible moral hazard for those who play fair, or attempt to use the internet to have uncensored,
productive discussions, rather than censored, commercialized speech. Formhandles site was a
useful resource, but our cult of celebrity was such that it would begin shaping the seduction
theory for an increasingly large fraction of the male internet population, in ways that were not
always ideal for the students, but which were extremely profitable for the gurus. My refusal to
engage in alpha marketing left me able to get my message out, particularly after giving away
Foxes and 29 Reasons, to neutralize my haters, because gammas will not turn down a free book,
no matter how much one hates on its author. It was this maneuver which ultimately led my
business rivals to flee ASF, for the protected waters of mASF.

Even in Formhandles ASF FAQ document, which claimed to direct the groups
purpose (i.e., visiting his commercial site), he included instructions on how to killfile posts
involving me (how alpha!), or those who responded to me (mostly shills and rivals/haters).
The marketing bordered on the absurd, and proved the gullibility of the typical gamma, for
whom this entire circus was constructed. The need to appear noncommercial prevented my
adversaries from admitting their profit motive, but their conduct should have made that obvious.
In a world where Sodini-types are the ones funding the gurus, this was not going to happen.
With free speech having fallen by the wayside, the chosen gurus had free run of mASF, and
a lack of competition from anyone other than their little group of around a half-dozen: Mystery,
David Eben Pagan DeAngelo, Jeffries, and a few others who would come on board in the
ensuing years. I knew from my own conversion ratio (two percent) how much revenue this was
costing me, and it was enough to kickstart mASF past the critical-mass point it needed, to
begin attracting a general internet audience, and media attention.

Most of the dirtywork of attacking me on ASF was done anonymously, via a bot
which would repeat every hideous lie about me, advise readers to avoid me, and to visit the
official ASF website, i.e., Formhandles. Because gammas are stupid lemmings, most
followed the directive, also to avoid the noise created, not by me, but by the bots, which would
post the vitriol in response to every one of my postings to ASF, in an attempt to render the group
useless, and drive traffic to the censored fora. After a few years, the damage had been done, and
I was out of the loop when it came to mainstreaming, even if many gammas were posting
questions such as how do I use a pivot, without realizing the source, and, at times, attacking that
source, to the amusement of the alphas, at how easily gammas can be manipulated.



505
Rather than bore the reader by doing full justice to my injustice, I offer the blanket
response that anyone who believes internet liars, or googles others for anything more than to find
their official website, or contact information, is a helpless, irredeemable gamma, who should be
avoided at all costs, beyond taking their money for internet purchases that dont require direct
contact. If you are some idiot who feeds on search-engine snooping, and expects me to have to
answer to liars you never met, who could have any agenda, Im glad you feel the need to save
me the trouble of avoiding you. Near the end of the text, Ill address some of the more heinous
threats, but they were far more prevalent than their mild inclusion lets on.

On the employment front, my political separation from OTL-types intensified, as
UPenn did its best to block my working there, including arguing in federal court that I was
unemployable, and even getting a former law professor at UPenn Law (the honorable Anita
Brody) to order a psychiatric examination, despite my argument that my current employment
had proven my employability; she was not swayed. During the pendency of this lawsuit, one
UPenn professor and medical researcher would be convicted of drugging and raping a job
applicant, and revealed to have a long history of sexual harassment in his lab (everyone kept
quiet and threw me under a bus for years out of fear), while another department head would be
accused of sexual harassment, over an assistant for whom he created a position, while UPenn
said it was not doing this, due to an overload of applicants (the reason they didnt hire me, they
said, was they didnt scout resumes, but had scouted this females).

The lawsuits were actually not a drag, because they were all occurring at once, while I
was at home a great deal, due to my living situation. Interestingly, UPenns presidents office
would hire me to transcribe a few rush jobs, at double my normal rate, along with its library
kicking in a much larger job. It would have been nice if they had noted this to the court, but,
instead, they used it to prove they had no objection to hiring me, to win the second lawsuit. As
a general rule, if lawyers dont want your case, either it is not profitable, or you are not
sympathetic enough a victim for them to work with. Civil-rights laws seem to protect men only
in theory. A female who endured even a tenth of what I went through as a secretary would have
been undefeated in court.

In late 2002, my income finally stabilized, when I landed a medical-transcription gig,
that had me working one long day each week (10-12 hours), for anywhere from $200.00-300.00,
and less in the summers, thus providing financial stability. I could now patiently wait for the
community to finish mainstreaming, and continue to develop PAP, which had again shown
extended streaks of profitability, particularly in the Triple Crown races. In that years Triple
Crown, I gave out War Emblem (20-1) in the Derby, and Sarava (70-1) in the Belmont Stakes, to
an appreciative clientele. For the 2001-02 hoops season, I kept a small, loyal base of tout
customers, who helped me pay the bills, until the medical-transcription gig kicked in. I would
then further augment my income, by monetizing the hypnosis gimmick, via a pair of sexy-
hypnosis recordings, which grossed $15,000.00+for one day in the studio, an amount split
between me and the voice talent, who was amazed at how much we took in. When internet-


506
video took over, I gave away the audio, and built a distribution list I will tap one day in the
future.

I knew that Formhandles dominant market position in the community would not
hold forever, but there was little one could do in the face of such an internet juggernaut at that
time. Men were finding his site (or ASF), reading the advice, getting laid, and finding even more
useful advice in the commercial products, most of which offered some version of the theory
honed by the Class of 1998, which was still profitable for the rank-and-file. Until that
changed, nothing else would change, and distribution, which I lacked, would remain king. On
the upside, the gurus who were plagiarizing my ideas, were also mainstreaming them, greatly
amplifying my impact on the gene pool, particularly through the pivot, which had become a
household word by that point.

The Project Hollywood Bungalow
20

Mysterys marketing genius was realizing that Big Media was the gamma of the
community. By parking in West Hollywood, CA, and by teaming up early with Neil Strauss,
he ensured that he would be the one to bring the community, and its theory, to the mainstream
audience, in the process cementing his hall-of-fame stature with internet gammas for all eternity.
Big Media has been playing internet kingmaker for some time, which makes it difficult to
compete on merit in cyberspace. The gammas simply refuse to use the internets in a manner that
would reward free speech, and interaction with the audience. The too cool to post types, who
just post links to their websites, avoid the noise, and the flamewar, and leave nothing which
might obstruct the consumer plankton from its journey to the online checkout button.

Despite the highly questionable marketing of the community gurus, the lack of free
speech, and the exclusion of any real competition, Big Media, and the A-list, bought into what
the gurus were selling, aiming to learn, emulate, and financially exploit this growing,
unstoppable internet phenomenon. Stories of men who had never even gotten dates, suddenly
getting laid by model-quality RHCs, were too juicy to resist, and the legend continued to crow,
as the commerce engine heated up. Project Hollywood would spawn Owen Tyler Durden
Cook, Mysterys partner in his first company, Real Social Dynamics (RSD), who would build
out the city-based LAIR system, which serves as the ideal feeder system for bootcamps, to this
day, since it enables the guru to sell out a city without risk, or even expensive marketing.
Many LAIR leaders have spoken of being offered generous kickbacks from guru and nightlife
alike, to throw students their way; some do.

With PowerBase done in by the Bush administrations determination to halt online
betting, I immediately shifted my focus to PAP, to avoid wasting my efforts, because
horseplaying was legal, and I would have no difficulty getting paid when I won. With Mom
retiring, my freelance gig paying my expenses, and The Law Office busier than ever, I wound up

20
Moms name for the Project Hollywood Mansion. She used to live down the block from it, as did I, as a baby.


507
in a holding pattern which would last for several years. As Mom aged, and her health
deteriorated, I concerned myself primarily with the present, and ensuring her basic needs were
met, particularly caregiving, when she fell ill, as she did twice, in 2006, and just before she died.
My alpha rivals were dependent on the gamma-whales to fund their lifestyle, which is why
they were so intense about every sale, every posting, and every potential threat to their revenue,
while I could just shrug off the attacks, in anticipation of the inevitable paradigm shift.

Much as with Beyers method, mainstreaming of ASF theory was not going to occur
for some time, until Big Media presented the community, either via a book from a major
publisher, a feature film, or a television program, with the latter the general consensus for most
likely mass-distribution vehicle. By 2003, all we had were mentions in commercials, or the
occasional film, like Magnolia, where Tom Cruises T.J. Mackey character was based on
Jeffries, and his Seduce And Destroy, based on Speed Seduction. The source for the role
escaped the critics, but Jeffries had been on the talkshow circuit for years. In 2000, he was on
Philly After Dark, and responded to Wally Kennedys critique about his using women by
claiming he was seeking that one special hookup. For a while I tracked Ross Jeffriess
Soulmate Search, which I believe is still going on. As with Lisa, this tactic is often used in the
media to mitigate this criticism, which I have chosen to embrace, secondary to my ferality.

As a fourteen-percenter, or lone beta guru, I had little hope of swaying a tidal wave
of gammas, most of whom were so enamored by the new internet celebrities, that they opened
their wallets in spellbound fashion, making millionaires out of several gurus, most notably
Mystery, and DeAngelo, whose Double Your Dating (DYD) had become the dominant e-book
discussed on mASF, with Formhandle receiving a generous affiliate commission.
Formhandle initially went ballistic when I posted a message to ASF asking if he was paid to
promote the book, after which he was more transparent. My texts had become free, but were still
generating their steady $200.00+a month in ad revenue, with no marketing, and an approximate
conversion ratio of two percent. I had no incentive to release new theory, since distribution is
king, so I just left my old books up, and stopped providing new theory for my rivals (hence the
flood of it here). Posting sequences like this grew lame after a while:

Post #1: Dont listen to Ray. Hes an idiot!

Post #2: How should I use a pivot?

Post #3: How come no one posts new theory anymore?

If gammas knew how stupid they were, theyd commit suicide. They are living proof
that, indeed, a fools paradise is still paradise to the fool.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?10962-Lesson-Thirty-
Five-The-Commercialization-Of-The-Community-(Full-Text)


508
Lesson Thirty-Six:
Hate-Marketing And The Seduction Mafia/Cartel

This lesson is about the best balance I could strike between addressing the cardinal
issue surrounding the seduction community, its rank-and-file, Big Media, and the general
public, without veering too far off-topic. Having already seen one thug in a suit (ThugDude,
one of the OTLs old friends) spawned from my old neighborhood, attempting to live a
respectable life, and seemingly fooling everyone, I should not have been surprised to see the
same occur online, with the community. What I had thought would be different this time
around is that, while what happened in the neighborhood thirty years ago was not recorded,
while the many threats against me and/or Mom were a matter of public record, much like
George Sodinis pre-plan rantings to which we now wish law enforcement had paid attention.

Would You Reward The Mafia?

Of course not! would be the answer given by most, and most would be wrong.
Stripclubs are run by the mafia, as the court dockets prove time and again, and so is most of the
nightlife. My favorite example of how a gamma will reward organized crime is that of a
nightclub run by a group which slit the throat of a well-known singer who wouldnt pay tribute
(this actually happened to a well-known Hollywood Square). The gamma audience left it to the
singer to take care of business, continued to patronize the club, and enjoyed the mafia-backed
singer. Even when confronted on their indirect role in funding the violence, the crowd would say
of the replacement:

But hes a good singer!

Mafia-coerced pizza (source-products monopoly) is among the best youll find in
retail, but that doesnt justify the extortion-driven monopoly many suppliers have. Despite most
every major guru having direct ties to someone who had either defamed, harassed, or
threatened me outright with violence, the gamma consumer-class continued to reward this
conduct with its patronage. UPenn even got into the mix, by claiming it could not trace the
postings of one of its students, Wintermute
21
who had threatened my life twice in two days,
and who lived nearby, despite a posting from the student claiming he was instructed not to post
to me. At a hearing on February 12, 2003, both a UPenn police officer, and their computer-
security UPenn had also not begun questioning my employability until it began finding copies
of the similar internet lies. The timing was highly questionable, as was its entire argument for
the psych exam, since it never would have tried this against a female, nor is it even legal to give
a pre-employment medical exam. There was no basis, yet when the judge is a graduate of
your law school, anything can, and did, happen. UPenn tried this argument again down the road,
twice, and lost each time.

21
Parker v. Wintermute et al., E.D.Pa., #02-cv-7215.


509
Hate-website.com

This is not the real name of the URL, but a hate website was posted about me,
derived from a similar venture in 1997, designed to warn the gymnastics community away
from me, by claiming I was making up stories of child abuse in the sport as an excuse to gain
proximity to its young, female athletes. While this indirectly got me laid by SHBGymnCoach,
my main purpose was to stop child abuse, and make life an actual hell for the actual abusers,
which led to the retaliation. That drama resolved in October, 1998, just as Foxes was being
released, but was picked up by my ASF haters, and republished so many times, that numerous
gammas began believing it, or giving it credence. Posting refutations was pointless, since that
only cluttered the group further, and the bots would just continually repost. Finally, as a
means of avoiding legal liability, a hate website was published, at a URL similar to the titular
one, or like the Ninth Circuits fictitious example of harass-them.com.

Thanks to Section 230 immunity, under 47 USC 230, only the original author of
internet libel can be sued for it, even if they are in another country, judgment-proof, or
anonymous, in which case they cannot be sued, nor can anyone who links to their lies, or any
search-engine which archives it, and serves it up to everyone in your life, none of whom would
have found the source, had they not been able to search for it under your name, and read it out of
context. For example, if Google Bomb were a Ray Liotta film, Liottas character would Google
bomb the husband, maybe by calling him a child molester, convince the wife to leave him, and
then molest her child after sleeping with her, before killing them both, as the husbands warnings
are ignored, all the while claiming to be merely misunderstood.

Because Formhandles site was a marketing base for dozens of gurus and wannabes,
it was never clear which one or more of those who stood to profit from moving traffic off ASF
was behind the anonymous postings. Formhandle didnt seem to mind, and just feigned taking
the high road, knowing full well that his exclusion of me and my work was a tacit endorsement
of the tactics, particularly posts which would combine the purposes, like this:

WARNING: Ray Gordon is a <insert garden variety libel>, who suffers
from debilitating mental illness. He is unemployed and lives with his mother at
age <28-41>.

You are such a gamma idiot that youll believe assertive internet strangers who
feign altruism and neutrality by warning you about someone against whom
they have an axe to grind, but no other recourse than to badmouth on
USENET. What we dont tell you is that well threaten and harass you, and
even those you love, if you stand up for Ray, or question our motives.

For more information about Ray, visit the following URL: www.harass-
ray.com. And dont forget to visit the OFFICIAL ASF website, at:



510
http://www.fastseduction.com

Despite claiming to its advertisers that the free information on the site is great
at selling their premium information, dont worry, it has all the free info youll
ever need.

This is classic gamma marketing, because anyone beta or above, i.e., the fourteen-
percenters, wont be swayed, but they are not the gamma-whales, who make it possible for the
gurus to snatch seven-figure incomes from a relatively small number of students, via the
expensive bootcamps, and still-costly e-books and CD/DVD sets, almost all of which was
teaching the same theory published freely, by the Class of 1998. In a world of wrongfooters,
who like to punish people for perceived line-crossing, outright harassment was getting a pass
for those who were engaging in and profiting from it, as if targeting me were somehow
legitimate. This empowered the Seduction Mafia, to the point where it would even make
actual threats, including a memorable one from an individual later revealed (by ISP subpoena) to
be Doctor Osgaldor Storm, an NLP practitioner from southwest Georgia (!), who wrote:

Ray,

<vitriol snip>

Your REMAINING DAYS number <#>. UPenn put me up to posting, and
theres nothing anyone will do to stop me from COMING TO YOUR HOME
AND KILLING you.

<fake name>

Once AllTel gave up Storms name, and once a sheriffs deputy knocked on his door
to ask him about this and a few dozen other posts (I survived past his deadline), he scattered,
mentioned the visit, declared victory and got out. We had no direct conflict prior to this, yet he
appeared, out of nowhere, briefly appearing neutral, and then fixating on me with increasing
intensity. Despite claims they had put him up to threatening my life, UPenn never bothered
suing him for defamation. This left the public with the impression that UPenn, PUAs, and
NLPSeducers, were in some unholy alliance against me, as UPenn was parroting much of what
Storm and others were claiming about my mental condition. Ill leave it to the psych experts
to judge the conduct of the other side.

Since I knew mainstreaming was inevitable, I had to wonder how these gurus were
going to explain all this to Big Media, particularly the harassment directed at Mom, which was
just as vicious as that directed at me. Mom would often be called a former prostitute, something
which would then be repeated in other hate postings. With hate-website.com, other posters
were able to link to its content, while claiming immunity under Section 230, thus making it
impossible to sue them for libel, while they continued to Google Bomb the search engines, who


511
were also immune. Since gammas fear the wrath of alphas, and betas just avoid conflict, I
was left to fend for myself. As indignified as I was that criminal conduct was going unchecked,
the hate-marketing was becoming the real story of the community, particularly the behavior of
the useful-idiot gammas.

The reason my haters eventually had to get their own domain was that the freehosts
had taken down the site, not because I had complained about defamation, which they ignored,
but when I began asking if their sponsors knew what was appearing underneath their banners. I
was then given cellphone numbers of abuse techs, and could get any site pulled, at any time of
the day or evening, as I told them Id just drop notes to their sponsors while waiting for them to
get back to me. This forced them onto a white-supremacy server, but even those virtuous
folks grew tired of the association, so they wound up using a dedicated domain, whose content
has since been removed, due to Big Media potentially searching, even though it has already been
made well aware of this, choosing to ignore the injustice, due to its own plagiarism of my work.

Those who are really curious about the exact content of the messages (the above are
paraphrased) can search PACER for my various lawsuits, most of which were filed between
2002-2007. It is not my goal to clog this text with anything more than a slight discussion of the
moral hazard the public creates when it rewards organized-crime tactics in marketing. That
people would be altering their sex lives based on this Emo marketing further evidences how most
of us are gammas, easily manipulated and misled, incapable of thinking for ourselves, yet
wanting success, even when unqualified, and even when having done not a single thing to earn
it, much like George Sodini, who would buy into this hatred, under some misguided notion that
noise and anonymous internet bullying equates to alpha behavior.

So far, Big Media has chosen to ignore the checkered past of the community.
Perhaps it always will, particularly since Section 230 does not apply to television or print, and
would greatly restrict its ability to make similar accusations in a medium in which I still have
rights. Until the gammas start raising a stink, it will be profitable to ignore this. The betas will
always stand down, out of self-interest and self-preservation, while the alphas source the
problem. Big Media, alpha that it is, couldnt care less about injustice that doesnt strike its
bottom line, and boycotts of their sponsors are meaningless, unless the gammas play along.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?11020-Lesson-Thirty-Six-Hate-
Marketing-And-The-Seduction-Mafia-Cartel-(Full-Text)


512
Field Report One Hundred Eight:
The Consolidated Stripper Lay Report

Due to ultra-strong privacy considerations, many of which are still current, a single
report reflective of my stripper game is included. It encapsulates the required elements for
plucking and fucking strippers, a goal which is surprisingly easy to achieve, once one knows
how:

DATE: March 2003
FROM: Ray (Age 36)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Stripper Game SOLVED
NOW PLAYING: Lose Yourself, by Eminem
IN THE NEWS: Greenspan Says Housing Bubble No Threat
TARGET CARD: Aces Wild

Spent a WEEK running STRIPPER GAME! Imdetermined to get laid so once I find
one to fuck I stop. Mission ACCOMPLISHED! Heres the highlight film:

Start the week with a $500.00 budget for this venture, but dont expect to need it.
Strategy is simple: begin at one club, stay long enough to run two sets with each dancer,
then eject. Note live responses for second round, if necessary. This means each visit
will cost around $20.00-30.00 if I do it right. Got all week to kill (working ONE day a
week these days, for enough to pay bills), so times not an issue. J ust sticking to the
general principles and seeing where they take me.

MONDAY: hit up a center city club for dayshift because I know its dead, and it was.
Five dancers and me, with two guys coming in an out in the hour Imthere. Cheap visit
($17.00), but only one live wire, HBBraids (8.8), who I might catch up with later. Stay
home this evening because Monday night fucking BLOWS at stripclubs.

TUESDAY: Hit my local club (Wizzards) for lunch and a warmup. Get nice IOIs while
Imeating Peking Fillet Steak fromHong Kong Inn (39
th
and Sansom), my favorite.
Couple of nice prospects, but this is my home club. Take off around 3:00 to a club in
the northeast. Bring a cocky attitude this time, start negging each dancer on her arrival.
SHBSilver (9.2) has silver streaks in her hair, which are funky, but I start busting on her
by going through her hair asking for loose change! Shes like why are you so mean!?
@closed her and its an AOL address so Ill IM her in a few. Turning them all down for
dances, and they feel rejected, plus I dont let their kino tease me. Cool day, but wasted
about $40.00 and five hours total.

WEDNESDAY: Step it up a bit, taking my hypnosis pendant out with me, which I
pull out once Imin the club. Each dancer grabs it, asks what it is, and four of them
light up when they learn its for hypno. Three of them want to be hypnotize and one
wants to learn it, but they want all this to happen IN THE CLUB (ITC), or the VIP
room. Fuck that shit its a trap, so I say maybe next time, and cut off the tipping. Visit


513
costs $14.00. Hit up Wizzareds on the way home just before 7:00 (no cover), have one
more Long Island Iced Tea, tip a few dollars to a few dancers, then stumble home.

THURSDAY: Kick back this time, decide to just be a customer and take $100.00
over to an upscale club. Have a few iced teas, tip this one dancer repeatedly, like $25.00
over a slow hour, as I eat my Buffalo wings. Get a two-for-one lapdance special from
her, then bail. Had expensive fun, but this investment will pay off when I go back, since
shell be fishing for more money, and wont get it, plus shell talk me up to the other
dancers. Dont like to do this but Imhuman.

FRIDAY: Prime time, payday, and overcrowded. Let the PLs (pathetic losers) burn out.
Hit up a DIVE club on the way home, real cheap, Imthe only nicely-dressed white guy
in the place. Get THREE #closes, the third froma girl whos new to town and was
building a social-circle. Very promising if she turns to me. Gonna call her next week.

SATURDAY: College hoops all day and night. More primetime.

SUNDAY: Here we go! Hit up Wizzards at 3:00 when they opened to get into the
groove, then continued on for a club in South Philly. Like to game away fromhome so
if something goes wrong Imnot near the fallout. Grab my pendant as a PowerBase
printout of the days hoop games, for a DHV routine I run. Hit the bar in the South
Philly club, pull out the pendant, and the printout. Novas beating up on Georgetown by
twenty and the sheet picked it, so I watch the game like I got a big bet on it, SHBSunday
(9.1, a dancer) asked me and Im like you could say that. Use congruent body-
language, ignore her for the game, say wait a sec while I tip her $5.00, cheer for the
win, then relax. She was playing with the pendant and said shes fascinated by hypno
when I ask her. We talk some more and shes like I wanna try hypno and I whet her
appetite without getting her under, to see if shes for real. She is. Decides she wants to
keep in touch and gives me her cell #. Says she wants to be hypnotized to forget her ex-
boyfriend. I tell her if I can do that I could make her want to fuck me, and shes like go
for it, if youre that good you can have me. Did a hand-massage thing that went over
well, been trying that all week, and got two of the #closes because of it. Theyre used to
guys going for their shoulders or back, and fucking up. That MASSAGE CLASS paid
off!

I was that good! Dropped her like a boulder, toyed with her, fucked her six ways to
(SHB)Sunday and back. Spent the same $250.00+a prostitute would have cost, but this
was a lot more fun. Also got several other live prospects, and, if my batting average
holds up, two more lays on the way fromthis group.

Ray



514

At the end of Beverly Hills Cop, Lt. Bogemill gave a report to his supervisor that
legitimized what was otherwise an illegal, order-defying, arrest of Victor Maitland. The story,
while not exactly what happened, approximated how they surmised that Maitland was a
criminal, followed a hunch, and eventually shot him in self-defense, with no one around to
dispute it. As any genuine user of pharmaceutical-grade women will attest, discretion is the
better part of valor; with strippers, its the better part of survival.

Ive had similar weeks to the one mentioned above, including one night where I
deliberately bought my rep with a single dancer, which is how I learned that subsequently not
tipping her didnt seem to matter, since I spent several half-hours with her, in between her stage
sets, once I reverted to club customer mode, where I would buy drinks, tip the bartender, and
give only the polite dollar to each dancer. As in the consolidated report, I would eventually
just hit the jackpot with an L-III gimmick, the product of a risk-free, numbers-game approach.


Like a $15.00 quarter-doll won at a carnival, I got my prize. The stripclub is a great
test of your skillz, and a place where all of them will come into play, along with your alpha
gimmicks. If you cant pluck a stripper for a lay, at least one out of say two hundred live dancer-
targets, you are not yet the PUA you think. Oddly, the AFC who just refuses to spend a lot
can do just as well, mostly because hes too intimidated to try, and some dancers like the extreme
level of control over a decent guy that this can bring, particularly if they are rebounding off a
stripper boyfriend.

With solid, well-run game, and enough TURD-money to patiently let the
probabilities (2-5 percent lays from live dancers, if youre good), then you have a permanent
solution to the problem of having at least one certain way of taking care of business. Stripclubs
were doing for my love life, what the medical-transcription gig was doing for my finances, by
allowing me to sustain myself while patiently awaiting something better. For older men, they are
an excellent option, because the dancers wont show age prejudice, and are conditioned to act
sexy for all men, dispensing pharmaceutical-grade women in a much more egalitarian fashion.
Some strippers are Hearts, who take pride in making men happy, and often attempt to play
Magic Hottie, when they believe a man has been wronged, like the typical shit-on AFC they
might choose for a boyfriend, after their own problems with the jerks.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?11021-Field-Report-One-
Hundred-Eight-The-Consolidated-Stripper-Lay-Report-(Full-Text)


515
Field Report One Hundred Eight Point One:
Bus Stop King

My favorite L-I venue strikes again:

DATE: J uly 2003
FROM: Ray (Age 36)
SUBJ ECT: LR: Still Deadly At Bus Stops
NOW PLAYING: Bus Stop, by The Hollys
IN THE NEWS: Studies Show Younger Women Find Older Men "Disgusting,
Creepy"

As Ralph Malph used to say, I STILL GOT IT!

NOTHING invigorates a tired old man like a lay froma coed hottie, in this case
SHBSummer (9.3), a lithe, twenty-two year-old student visiting for the summer, and
staying in the house on 41st Street that I sublet in 1988. Found her at the #21 stop at
42nd and Chestnut, where we both had just missed one, which meant another wouldn't
be coming down the line for another 10-15 minutes at least, enough mini-isolation to get
my game on. She's got this BEAUTIFUL white sundress, with a floral pattern, beach
sandals (not flip-flops), and these cute plastic sunglasses I use as the basis for my opener
("nice glasses"). Yeah brilliant I know.

I could tell she's not fromaround here, and was just up for the summer break, which
made me sound smart when I asked her where she was from, and if she lived here. She's
fromVirginia, taking a few courses up here, and thinking of going to law school here. I
take the lead once she says this, mentioning the various law-office jobs I've held over the
years, and she's intrigued. I give her some pointers on firms in the area, and how sexist
it can be if she doesn't find the right place to work. That runs its course, so I ask if she's
seen the city. She says not much, she just got here, and was going to Liberty Place to
check out the shopping. I tell her I know a REALLY COOL part of town that has some
good shopping, and nice places to hang out, then invite her, and she accepts! I #close
her and we agree to meet up the next day (yesterday).

I take her to SOUTH Street, around Fourth, and show her all the cool boutiques, then
take her for a late lunch/early dinner to the same Thai place I took SHBFriendSis back in
'96. She LOVES it, says there's no good Thai places in her "hick town" (near Roanoke),
and chows down. Kino was light while we were walking, then broke off for the meal.
Conversation was good, and I made a point of "spiking" it just as we were exiting, so
she'd be more receptive to my restarting the kino. It worked. I do a little hand-massage
while we stroll, and she's into it, but it's not easy to do standing up, while walking, which
she notes:

HER: "Are you a professional??


516

ME: "Not quite. Took a fifty-hour course in 1990. Was considering it as a
profession at one time."

HER: "Don't you like need a quiet place to do that properly?"

ME: "Sure do. I used to rent a studio not far fromhere two days a month for
just that purpose."

HER: "Did you make a lot of money doing it?"

ME: "Not a dime." <smile>

HER: "I see!" <pulls hand away gently>

ME: "Shy, huh? Sorry if I was too intrusive. Hey, check out this shop!"

GOLDEN RULE: if she pulls back, DOWNSHIFT IMMEDIATELY. You'll get points
for not coming off as so sex-crazed. I dropped the subject, knowing full well she'd pick
it back up, and I even predicted when. Sure as hell, as the #42 is turning onto 34th, she
starts up again:

HER: "I've NEVER had a really good massage. Guys try to give me
backrubs and shit but it almost HURTS they're so bad."

ME: "They just haven't had training. You can hire a skilled massage
therapist for about $50.00 an hour, you know."

HER: "I don't have that kind of money! Besides, I've never had to pay
before."

ME: "And they were worth every cent, weren't they?"

HER: "Um, yeah."

Now I pull a page out of what I did with SHBIran:

ME: "Tell ya what: I'll trade a full massage with you if you buy me dinner in
return. Doesn't have to be a nice place, McDonald's is even okay."

HER: "Oh please! I can afford nicer. What about that sports bar on 39th?"

ME: "Cavanaugh's?"

HER: "Yeah."



517
ME: "Sure. Love their wings. So is it a trade? When did you want to do
this?"

HER: "Tonight, after I'mdone studying. I'll be tense and I need to sleep."

GAME. OVER.

ME: "No problem. I PROMISE you'll sleep like an INFANT by the time
I'mdone. You'll be a RELAXED PILE OF BLISS."

The last four words are MONEY. USE THEM!

HER: "Sounds GREAT! Um, where do you want to do this?"

ME: "This is gonna sound really cheezy: your place or mine? I'mthinking
yours, since I live with my Mom. You can cancel if you want."

HER: "Why would I do that?"

ME: "I dunno, thirty-six year-old men who live with their mothers just have
that effect on some women."

HER: "I amNOT like that!"

ME: "Like what?"

HER: "Oh come on stop already. If it bothered you, you wouldn't even be
telling me. Something's up."

ME: "You're right, it doesn't bother me. Used to, somewhat, but Mom's old
now, and I like being around in case she needs me. Like so she doesn't
get up out of bed when she's tired and fall, and then wind up in a
nursing home. I've resolved never to let her spend a day in one. I have
lived alone in the past before, and it didn't change much."

HER: "Aww that's SO sweet!"

ME: "You give me too much credit. Let's just say my family has a knack for
making the best of a less-than-ideal situation."

HER: "I know what you mean. My family's got its quirks, trust me."

ME: "Should I send back the engagement ring? J ust fucking with ya, I don't
intend to ever marry."

HER: "Awww, you just haven't met the right one yet!"



518
ME: "Do you like Buffalo wings?"

HER: "Why do men hate commitment so much?"

ME: "I don't. I just LOVE the wings at Cavanaugh's. Ever try them?"

HER: "Once, I think."

ME: "Cool. Call you around ten?"

HER: "9:30. I have to be up early tomorrow."

The "kiss of death," setting a time limit before a "date." I ignore this, because I know
how I got massage and hypnosis going on, and she's nonresistant. It's easy once I get a
chick into this position. No goodbye kiss because I don't want to shock her into
canceling. She doesn't.

Pop over, put on my "massage therapist" mask and act all strictly-business. Sit down in
the kitchen area for a cup of OJ , while she has tea. Told her that's better than coffee for
a massage since it won't wake her up as much. Then I tell her I need to use the
bathroom, but walk right to it, and she's puzzled until I tell her I spent a summer in the
house a long while back. She's got one of the nice rooms, and we isolate there. Her
bed's a single so I pull it away fromthe wall to make it like a massage table, then I get to
work. Within fifteen minutes, she's completely relaxed, and then I start in with the
hypno, and a half-hour later, she's GONE.

She fucks like a porn star on coke. Gonna tap this one as long as the suds keep flowing.
Hope she goes to law school here.

Ray


The L-III gimmick only closed the deal: her decision to fuck was made in L-II, which
is why every guru advises going for things like connection and rapport, but this doesnt reveal
the entire picture. While a target will not get turned on if you try to sell her on the sex itself, L-
III game discounts L-II game. This is critical to understanding the proper sequence for
deployment of an L-III gimmick:

1. Establish the L-III gimmick.

2. Seduce her by deploying it in L-II, via appetite-whetting conversation, or
nonsexual performance of the gimmick.

3. Wait for her to beg for L-III deployment. Sometimes this works because
shes waiting you out to see if you escalate prematurely, or attempt to force


519
an outcome, particularly with the hypnosis gimmick, since its easy for a
resistant target to wind up hypnotizing the hypnotist. My frame with the
gimmick is that I perform hypnosis, but only for a willing, eager
audience, who must tune into to properly go under. This takes the fun out
of faking, teasing, or rejecting me, and leaves them focused on their
curiosity about a new L-III experience, which, to an SHB, is rare, since they
equate looks and sexual expertise, are constantly begged for sex, and
encounter few men who really understand hypnosis, let alone the L-III
variety.

The passive-aggression is, as they say, money.


When a geek knows how to rock an SHBs world, he becomes aware of how
insidious emotional stereotyping is, because his greatest difficulty is not in rocking her world,
but in getting her to give him the chance. The typical AFC experiences the same frustration,
but in the context of dating, or being a boyfriend.

Hundred-Eight-Point-One-Bus-Stop-King-(Full-Text)


520
Lesson Thirty-Seven:
A Hottie In Every Bed

In late January, 2004, the Style section of The Sunday New York Times ran a story
about the seduction community and its secret society of internet pickup artists, led by
Mystery, and reported upon by his cohort, Style (Neil Strauss). Because Big Media Said So, it
was now important for the world to pay attention to this subculture, which was giving its
followers results regular men could only dream about. Strausss resume gave him immediate
cred, both as writer, and pitchman for Mystery, for whom Strauss used the accomplishment intro
technique, in talking up his friend and business associate, all under the umbrella of journalistic
neutrality. Strauss tossed a bone to Jeffries, and another to Formhandle, by mentioning them,
which led to readers of the Times seeking out the new internet celebrities, and perhaps share
some seduction tactics. Not surprisingly, several famous individuals, most notably Tom Cruise,
and, according to rumor, Will Keepin it real in the Philly hood Smith (Hitch), also took note.

Jumping The Shark

Like a sitcom family moving to California to adopt a teenager played by Ted
McGinley, the Style article forever altered the community, its rank-and-file, and its power
structure, now firmly in favor of Mystery. The documentary Dogtown & Z-Boys, the precursor
to the glamorized Lords Of Dogtown, outlined how an extreme skateboarding community
quickly evolved into a commercial subculture, replete with six-figure contracts, and even a guest
appearance on Charlies Angels for one of the more famous Zephyrs. Like the Zephyrs, the
Class of 1998 was completely self-unaware of how much they were changing the world. Strauss
had shined those documentary lights in everyones eyes, making ASF and the Class of 1998
seem almost predestined, part of Gods very plan of creation:

.and on the Seventh Day, He sarged.

In reality, a small collection of geeks, capitalizing on a website that refused to allow
anyone else to advertise to its audience, stumbled upon a body of extremely effective theory,
exploited it commercially, forever changed the nature of seduction, and had now become
celebrities, as well as part of a group that spawned celebrities, due to these supposedly incredible
tactics that could help any man even a gamma like George Sodini get laid by an RHC+.

One need not even address the underlying accuracy of this belief to know what comes
next. Either:

1. The Style article was accurate, and men were getting laid with
pharmaceutical-grade women, using tactics copied off the internets; or

2. The article was full of shit, and nothing had changed.



521
If #2, nothing happens, except the public is briefly fooled. If #1, however, either:

1a. Men ignore the results, and the methods continue to work. Or

1b. Men emulate the methods, until too many men are using them for the results
to be sustainable, just like happened to card-counting, and to the
Beyer/Kovitz method.

With the Beyer method in 1986, I risked all of a few hundred dollars, using the same
principle. Either:

1. I would win, my bankroll would steadily increase (it didnt, due to lack of
regular income), and I would continue to use the figures, which would have
an increasing splash effect on the pools; or

2. I would lose, stop making figures, and stop betting.

Obviously, #1 occurred (for most), until Beyer Red-Queened its profitability out of
existence in April, 1992. This should not surprise anyone. If you heard a seduction method was
getting the gammameal laid by hotter targets than you, you might try it, as many did with the
Class-of-1998 tactics, like pivots, negs, early kino, returning-fox, reverse-timetable, or psychic
gimmicks. With Beat The Dealer, and then with Picking Winners, men just tried the methods,
began accumulating profits, and eventually steamrolled the house. Once the cat got out of the
bag in 1998, men tried the methods, found they worked spectacularly, and eventually
steamrolled the target-class, causing a good deal of material to become played out, in what I
warned was game over, the subtitle of Spy Kids 3: Game Over, which was playing a lot on cable
at the time The Game was in pre-production.

The shark-jumping caused by the gamma invasion had the most predictable of all
consequences:

The gammas expected the same results in 2004, that the alphas and betas were
getting in 1998.

As fourteen-percenters, betas will never starve, though the ones who didnt adapt
may have found themselves more inclined to settle, or to have to work harder for what they used
to get (Beyer had done this to my ROI from 1980-1985, until I adopted his method). The betas
also played a role in the Red-Queening, since it was their approval of what the alphas had
created that tilted the media towards presenting the theory to the gammas, who by single virtue
of Big Medias endorsement, accepted it as gospel. This forever branded Strauss and Mystery as
expert PUAs, while leaving me as a beta guru, whose ideas worked, but who would not get
the media-push that was now rocket-fueling Strauss and Mystery ahead of me, and everyone
else, including Formhandle and Jeffries.


522

As usual, to follow the money in the community, all one need to do is follow the
gammas, who were now loyal members of the Cult of SAM,
22
willing to do whatever they said
needed to be done, to get laid, because, after all, they were the worlds best pickup artists. How
this was confirmed, exactly, has never been made clear, but even what Ive read still falls short
of what I saw directly from PUACousin, TrustFundDude, and PonytailDude. What I did know,
however, was that my creations, particularly the pivot, were a large part of what was working,
with kino, negs, DHV, and NLP the primary contributions from other sources. This, plus
gimmicks, and some tactics for overcoming LMR, formed the core ASF theory, from which
almost all community theory since has been derived.

Under basic Red Queen theory, information loses value as it spreads, particularly with
the internet marketing gurus invading the community beginning around 2001. These were
like the speed-figure services which began cropping up in the late 1980s, including mine
($44.00 a month to about six clients, which incentivizes further Red-Queening, since every dollar
sunk into advertising starts yielding an ROI of $1.01+, effectively allowing the marketer, who
may have no knowledge of seduction, to turn a profit, while destroying the efficacy of that from
which he is profiting, because if he doesnt do so, someone else will. Even without Picking
Winners, someone else could have stepped in with an equally sound method. After Picking
Winners, however, the genie was out of the bottle. and the method was ultimately doomed to
becoming basic knowledge, rather than an insiders edge. This knowledge was way too
powerful to remain dormant in some internets backwater.

Intelligence-Insulting Gamma Marketing

And now for a word about this really cool thing I read somewhere, and am not paid to
tell you about:

Hey! You. Yes, YOU!!

Someone is actually TALKING to YOU! Since this is about the only time this
may EVER happen in your life, LISTEN UP!!

What If I Could Teach You How To MEET The Women Of Your Dreams?

I dont know: I might ask how I could learn to fuck them!

Click Here To Gain Entry Into A SECRET INTERNET SOCIETY Of Master
Pickup Artists, Who, For The FIRST TIME, Are Revealing Their Time-Tested
Methods For MEETING The Most Beautiful Women On Earth!!

22
Style And Mystery.


523
Let Our FREE NEWSLETTER Get You Started! Just Type Your E-Mail
Address In The Box BELOW-ME!

I thought tout advertising was bad, with its 17-3 on rainy Thursdays claims of a
streak, though I did once nail fifteen finales in a row at Aqueduct (during the 1982 streak that
led to NHBSkates), and pulled off a 13-2 streak with first-race favorites at Yonkers, when I
began betting $20.00 to win on these selections automatically.

Gammameal tends to act like the consumer plankton I called it earlier, in that it goes
with the flow of a current it is physically incapable of resisting. It is extremely susceptible to Commercial
Emo game, which insults the intelligence of the betas, who cannot believe such advertising could ever
work, even as those who publish it continue to bank.

Marketing to gammas is not unique to seduction. Late-night televisions paid programming
is filled with infomercials, which use phantomintimacy to draw in the gamma, with promises of riches in
real estate, trading, or even turnkey websites. The host conducts an interview with the product
CEO, who tells some rags-to-riches story, and how even a gamma viewer can capitalize on this
opportunity by doing whatever the creator did, except, of course, sell the product. Some plans seemed
interesting, particularly the mail-order guru who claimed to make money selling alcohol stills in the
1970s, and sounded a lot like Dad, who had banked with similar deals. He didnt make false promises,
nor did Famous Amos, who sold business advice based on his experience with his titular cookies. Even
the real-estate systems seemworkable, but I doubt the typical gamma is ever going to get alpha results,
even with the same info, under the same circumstances (absence of mainstreaming).

With the Beyer method, the three types of males were divided as follows:

Alpha: Beyer (1975), Sheldon Kovitz (1967), Ray Talbout (1963), Ragozin (1954?),
E.W. Donaldson (1936), and Pittsburgh Phil (1909), i.e., the creators of
speed-handicapping, with at least one major innovation. Perhaps one day
PAP (2001-present) will add me to this list; its ROI certainly should.

Beta: Those who bought figures fromthe alphas, or their disciples (like J erry
Brown, who learned fromRagozin), or who, like me, used their methods to
make their own, as I had prior to 1992.

Gamma: Regular horseplayers, who discovered the Beyer figures only after they
landed in the DRF, yet who continue, to this day, to bet them religiously,
expecting a similar ROI to my $1.17 from1986 and 1991 (and not getting it).

In the community, the hierarchy is this:

Alpha: Most of the Class of 1998, or other PUAs (like Cook), who have
contributed genuinely original theory since. Also the marketing gurus who
build a large audience of gammas, usually through unfair distribution
advantages.



524
Beta: Those who found the community from1998-2004, without the aid of
mainstreammedia. Also the indie gurus who seek profit, but only through
product quality, rather than hype, marketing, distribution, or exorbitant
pricing. Their work tends to appeal to fourteen-percenters, and will usually
be plagiarized by the alphas, as Imsure this text will be through the end of
time.

Gamma: Those who found the community only after reading the Style article, The
Game, or watching VH-1s The Pickup Artist, who parrot the obsolete
techniques, and who expect similar results to those enjoyed by the Class of
1998. Their general investment philosophy can be summarized as buy-
high/sell-low.

When the gammas arrive, it is usually time for the betas to scatter, and the alphas to get
rich. Because the market is so huge, however, and forever in a state of attrition (age, marriage, etc.), even
a beta guru can expect to earn several thousand dollars froma single product, so dont expect them(or
me!) to be vacating this space anytime soon.

A Hottie In Every Bed?

I amwell aware that many of my readers are gammas, and cannot offer false hope, other than I
hope they get a clue, grow a spine, drop their sense of entitlement, start thinking for themselves, and stop
acting like their personal drama is anyones concern but their own. I know they want pharmaceutical-
grade women dropped in their lap, but I cannot change the sexual marketplace, and an attitude like that
usually requires a few Spitzers to pull off, or a lowering of standards, if one insists on avoiding direct
lifestyle game (i.e., prostitution). Like Sodini, you can whine all you want, but hopefully youll find a
way to take care of business before going off the deep end. Many media pundits blamed RDS (thats
Steele) for poisoning Sodini into believing he could be an alpha male, and I agree, though I dont
think Steeles intentions were anything other than to profit fromteaching what he truly believed would
help, since it worked for him. Had he treated Sodini as a gamma a label much more congruent with his
sixteen-year dry spell and offered to teach himto become beta, he may have learned to operate within
his limitations.

Once the Style article hit, A-list celebrities, and Big Media, began contacting Strauss and
Mystery frequently, either to learn the methods, or to learn how to profit fromthem. By gaming the
men, Mystery had connected with Strauss, who became his bridge to mainstreamcelebrity, and the
wealth which inevitably follows. This would come at the expense of the rest of the Class of 1998, and the
beta gurus, who were no longer losing market-share just to the brand-name gurus, but were often
seeing this accomplished with theory they had created, like the pivot. I had already accepted the reduced
revenue that comes with a refusal to exploit the gamma, but was not prepared to see my work enriching
others, to such a ridiculous extent, even if it was amplifying the empirical impact of my ideas in ways I
never could have alone.

By 2004, I had been online long enough to know that the internet space evolves rapidly, with
its power structure, and distribution channels, changing drastically over time. From1998-2000, I used
my first-mover advantage to make a substantial profit, second only to that of J effries, but had begun to get
slaughtered by what I had called the seduction cartel. It should be noted that a Delaware court


525
dismissed an antitrust lawsuit against this cartel, claiming that it was not an ongoing threat, even if
there had been a temporarily unfair head-start, and the court was proven correct. What is true, however,
is that the seduction community had a level of incestuousness that no offline industry would dare have
risked, with competitors sharing living quarters, marketing plans, pricing information, and even customer
data, while actively excluding advertising. By comparison, the recent Sothebys antitrust convictions
were based on meetings between the CEOs of them, and rival Christies, which took place in the back of a
limo, at Kennedy Airport, with their office calendars cloaked by a phantomitinerary for each.

On the internet, money can be made so quickly that it rarely pays to squabble over the past,
lest one miss a future jackpot. This led me to continue my holding pattern, particularly with my (low)
income stabilized, and Momneeding increasing help around the home. For all Momhad done for me, I
was honored to be able to contribute in ways that offset her lack of a retirement nest-egg (thanks to years
of secretarial discrimination in favor of females who tossed their parents into nursing homes), for her end-
of-life care would have wiped her out one way or another, and she had all the benefits of a nursing home,
with independence, to the extent her body would allow it, and no strangers ever compromising her
privacy or dignity. That I lost targets to living with Mom even in these circumstances, disgusted me.

Game Over

FromJ anuary, 2004 through late August, 2005, when The Game finally dropped, after a few
delays, the community grew exponentially, with Big Media cutting deals with its celebrities, and an
increasing number of copycat gurus entering the marketplace, including several former RSD instructors
and students. Mystery broke off with RSD in 2003 or 2004, and went on to formthe Mystery Method
Corporation (MMC), which, like RSD, would use the city-based LAIRs as a feeder system for gamma-
whales, with many LAIR leaders themselves becoming instructors, offering their own mini-bootcamps
within their groups, or striking out on their own. Most notable among these was Lance Masons Pickup
101. The former students and instructors had the advantage of insider knowledge of the industry niche,
but also their former gurus or bosses not wanting to disown men they had previously talked up as
world-class PUAs. To this extent, the community had become more about selling expensive
workshops, or gaining media exposure, than about parting with or finding an advantage in getting laid.
Millions of gammas were up for grabs, and everyone was grabbing while the grabbing was good.

With my holding pattern, I just waited for The Game to drop, with its inevitable talkshow tour
finally changing the playing field to my advantage, as my old theory would continue to be Red-Queened,
along with everything else being taught, thus leaving a much larger audience, still in need of an edge.
Todays new distribution channels were but a pipe dreamin 2004, and it was definitely going to be a
positive for Strauss to bring ASF, however indirectly, to millions of Americans. Beta guru that I was, I
had no choice but to wait out the inevitable, as the circus intensified. My haters continued their crusade,
although by this point the commerce battle had been won, and I was focused more on PAP, which
continued to show increasing promise, and some profits. The Law Office ran smoothly enough, since I
had six days a week to do paperwork, when necessary, and would combine my run to pick up the tapes
with a stop at the court, for filings. All of the suits were designed to terminate within a year or so of each
other, a timetable I could effect by appealing or not appealing certain cases.

When gammas become the primary consumers of a product, marketing and distribution take
over. Media exposure results in automatic purchases, and slick, intelligence-insulting marketing becomes
inexplicably profitable. One need only examine what sponsors the news on networks like CNN my


526
favorite was Head On, which is nothing more than wax, sponsoring Mr. Integrity, Lou Dobbs to see
who is watching. CNNs new favorite sponsor seems to be freecreditreport.com, which, if you slow the
ending down, requires enrollment in TripleAdvantage (a credit-monitoring service). Even the lyrics to
one commercial since we first showed up with our pirate hats on are what is known as callback
humor, is based on them paying to show up, not because they were invited. In another commercial,
they use a choppy rock melody to sing about not seeing ones credit-report, and change to a smooth
melody to reflect things working out once they enroll in TripleAdvantage. That this marketing works is
yet another Stupidity Index.

Another big CNN sponsor is the AdCouncil, which makes annoying public-service
announcements, like the clueless-or-gay guy in the backseat of a car talking about a beautiful horse,
before admonishing a teen driver (who is introduced as a teenager rather than by his age, as real people
would) to slow down. Id have slowed down, and kicked the gay psycho out of my car, preferably next to
a horse, so he could ride its beautiful rump wherever he was going. Not surprisingly, Advil has
capitalized on this, by sponsoring CNN as well, with some goofy clueless-or-gay black guy doing sleep
studies that cause me to do my mute studies, which have never failed. Would love to see how long hed
last in say Harlem with that tonality and demeanor. As for the clueless-or-gay idiot who talks to his
clueless-or-gay (breed) dog about dog food, its pretty obvious why hes in an EL-II with his pet. The
above is almost as annoying as the Superfund commercials on CNBC, with the guy with the accent
(supposedly more intelligent, because perfect English is his second language), suggesting I contact [my]
investment adwisor about managed futures. (Investing is a joke, you see).

With mainstreaming of the community, similarly idiotic marketing slogans were inevitable,
culminating in VH-1s The Pickup Artist, which convinced a nation of gammas that they, too, can get
laid just like Mystery says he did, even if they werent there, dont know which tactics he really used
(hint: money was one, once he began banking), or even how hot the targets were. Once Mystery became
a celebrity guru, it was game over, and he had won, at least for the first round. After he crossed over,
his cred became permanent, with Strausss version of events becoming the official one for Big
Media. Not surprisingly, Mystery immediately began citing his Big-Media references in his marketing,
despite having built his rep on attacking the mainstream.

Thirty-Seven-A-Hottie-In-Every-Bed-(Full-Text)


527
Field Report One Hundred Nine:
My Final Home Run

I like to think my future has a few chapters left to write; hence the quotes:

DATE: April 2005
FROM: Ray (Age 38)
SUBJ ECT: LR: BREAKTHROUGH! Hypnofucked by a 21 y/o stripper
NOW PLAYING: Don't Cha, by The Pussycat Dolls
IN THE NEWS: Studies Show Younger Women Find Older Men "Disgusting,
Creepy"

Found a NEW angle for stripper game! So SIMPLE but overlooked by so many.

Met SHBVillanova (9.2) back in J anuary at a club in the Northeast, and she's all chatty,
not greedy at all. She didn't seem like she belonged there, because she didn't! I caught
her on her FOURTH DAY, which was also her next-to-last day as a stripper. A
TRANSIENT!

She knows she's quitting, which is why I was able to #close her. She wanted me in her
"regular" life. Tipped her a whopping FOUR dollars to get the #. Call her a week or so
later, and we make a date for the Turf Club. Tell her I'mlooking for sexy hypnotists to
train and maybe this is an alternative to dancing, where she can still make some money.
She's not into that but says she wants to learn hypno.

She picks me up at my door, drives me up there for a race, which I lose (don't react,
which impresses her), then drives me home. Try to kiss her goodbye and she resists, so I
say fuck it and get out of the car. Made the mistake of calling her the next day, she's like
"I KNEW you'd call," and then I realize I would have gotten laid quickly if I had just
used my own ONE-AND-DONE rule. FUCK! So I fix the mistake by forgetting about
her. Sure e-fucking-nough, she IMs me last week:

HER: "I shouldn't have stopped talking to you."

That's chickspeak for FUCK ME, and now I got a RETURNING FOX!

Turns out she's been living with DentistDude, a millionaire who began creeping and
freaking her out, and she needed some "sanity" as she put it. Also said she found
hypnosis really intriguing and wanted to "explore" it fromboth sides. She knows my
living situation, and says she's got a hotel roomon Broad for the night. I say that's
perfect for hypno, so let's meet, and we do.

I bring a hypno script with me. We isolate to her roomand she's reading the script. I
begin watching TV while she goes over it, and next thing I know she's READING it, and


528
it's having a POWERFUL effect on me. I stop her and ask if she wants me to hypnotize
her and she says no, then resumes. I drop like a fucking BOULDER.

Next thing I know we're fucking. I cum, recover, then work her body with a hand
massage that begins moving all over. Then I drop her even further, and I've got a
pornstar/sex-slave for the rest of the night.

I leave the next morning thinking I've got a girlfriend, until she contacts me a few days
later telling me she found a lawyer in Allentown. WTF? What's that they say? Don't
cry because it's over; smile because it happened! Something like that.

Tough not to cry at this age. Been WAY too long since I pulled off one like this.

Ray


This was my last super-elite, my last stripper lay (#closed a DJs girlfriend after this
and didnt like the drama or violence potential), and my last sorceress. Worse yet, I knew it was
going to be my last. I can still take care of business, but age has taken its toll, and I need more
lifestyle game than ever, plus a lot of luck. That Im even still on the field at forty-three is
enough success. Seduction favors the young, and thats that. With that said, my brains have
become my bread-and-butter, since that is the one CUPID category where men truly do improve
with age, so perhaps I might change my viewpoint once I have fully revamped my strategy for
middle-age.


The hypno was great, but nothing I couldnt have had with Le Club, or SHBWitchy,
ten years earlier. She was also commitment-averse, and too expensive to sustain. On the upside,
she is reproducible, for the man willing to play the stripclub numbers game, especially with a
few Spitzers to toss around. Within a year or so of this point, I began radically altering my
game for middle-age, a process which would ultimately lead to this text, since a review of my
entire target-history was part of my PUA reset. As this text was written in alpha isolation, I
have yet to see how this interim improvement will play out, but the initial results are promising
(see the final field-report).

Field-Report-One-Hundred-Nine-My-Final-Home-Run-(Full-Text)


529
Lesson Thirty-Eight:
Game NOT Over

Fate, in the form of Hurricane Katrina, would keep the Red Queen from completing
her appointed media rounds, by wiping out most of Strausss talkshow tour, and fragmenting the
remainder, so that the blitz never took hold, and The Game remained known mostly to the
fourteen-percenters. The earthquake still registered, however, as hundreds of thousands of
gammas began invading the community, usually introducing themselves with something like
this:

HEY GUYS!!! I JUST READ THE GAME, and I think its GREAT what
youre all doing. I cant wait to get laid like MYSTERY! Is he around?

Whose products should I purchase to get started? I know all you internet
strangers arent getting paid or nothing like that, and are just here to HELP A
BROTHER OUT, so HELP!!!

God I wish this place had been around YEARS ago, when I REALLY needed
it!!

GAME ON BROS!!

p.s. how do I use a pivot.

Loud, stupid, pushy.and profitable. In a lawsuit, it was revealed that the MMC took
in $3.2 million in 2006, almost all of it attributable to the exposure to the gamma-whales in The
Game. With free mainstream publicity in his corner, Mystery became an unstoppable force of e-
commerce. Although Strauss would credit one fictional character (Jetman), he managed to
forget to attribute the pivot, in his PUA glossary, thus ensuring I would remain off the
distribution grid. Since this is one of the stronger techniques ever designed, a reason I insist on
being credited with it, as I also have the registered copyrights to prove origin. With this text, it
will not be so easy to discuss my techniques without proper sourcing, another reason it is
dropping in 2010, rather than 2001, or 2005. With my work already enriching the wealthy and
famous, I saw no need to further assist them in running up the score.

On another note, Jetman once mocked my advice to take my information and
individualize it, by formulating his own plan, something now common among gurus as a
defense against criticisms of a one-size-fits-all approach. Eventually, Jetman, who listed his
name as John C. Ryan, Jr., claimed to have taken a wife, Jeri Snowden, (which makes her a
cynically-named perfect match for her husband, as Jeri Ryan). This was to deflect consumer
criticism (gee, why target that so precisely?) that the PUA methods could not be used on ones
girlfriend or wife. After I dismantled this logic, by asking about thinks like love at first neg, or
what he does if his wife refuses him sex, he got increasingly fed up, claimed J eris dad was a


530
federal judge (no Snowdens on that roster), and then claimed Id be fined $250.00 for even
mentioning him or her, despite his having injected them into the debate. Finally, Jeri was said
to have died in a car crash. When asked for verification of that, I was accused of harassing a
widow. Amazingly, two more ASFers would pull this exact stunt, with the gammas grieving
over all three car crashes. Small wonder the gurus have such contempt for their students!

Gammas are not restricted to males. Many super-elites, who rely primarily on looks,
exhibited gamma behavior, by acting as if they had busted the PUAs, or by claiming this
stuff would never work on [them], even as they claimed it used women for [the] sex [that the
methods supposedly didnt work at getting]. The notion of a loser (gamma) getting laid by an
RHC infuriated the target-class, who could no longer dismiss Strauss or Mystery as bitter,
whining losers who couldnt get laid, since they were now rich celebrities who could.
Moreover, they had influence over other men, the wealthy and powerful ones they were
advising to avoid commitment, and to avoid spending cash on, just for the hope of getting laid
(this was in the pre-lifestyle game era).

Ray-Hating Goes Mainstream

As expected, the publisher of harass-ray.com showed up with an Amazon review that
parroted the USENET hating, including a link to the hate site itself. Amazon did nothing to
remove the posting, and its sponsors didnt seem to care either, so boycotting was out of the
question. Until Section 230 immunity is overturned by the United States Supreme Court (it still
has never been tested, and an unfavorable ruling would put the search-engines out of business),
or legislated out of existence, it seems even Big Media will be polluted by defamation,
harassment, and other tactics designed to misdirect the gammas into purchasing. Like mafia
pizza, the only thing that really matters is how it tastes, not the internal politics of the pizza
industry.

Strauss very conveniently ignored the communitys true darkside, including its
involvement with white-supremacists (while the same people were attempting to wrongfoot me
for hating women), or those who had defamed, harassed, and threatened me and/or Mom, all
for Mysterys benefit. The connections to the Class of 1998, about whom Strauss wrote so
glowingly (while treating me like Chuck Cunningham), were rather direct, yet never explored,
even when the gurus themselves would make questionable, even illegal, postings. Thanks to
Strauss, history would reveal Mystery as a flawed hero, himself as the protagonist who
understands the hero, and guys like Cook (RSD) as the villain (he was too well known to ignore).
With the gammas all firmly in his corner, Strauss and Mystery were deemed the worlds best
PUAs, when, in fact, they were merely its most influential. To the average guy looking to get
laid, media-branding shouldnt matter, yet the gammas bank their future on it, much as they did
the tech bubble, when they bought into the NASDAQ at 5000+, or when they began using the
Beyer figures in 1992.



531
The Annihilation Method

The internet-marketing gurus bragged about it for years: the $1.4 million launch of
the Annihilation Method, Neil Strausss DVD product, filmed at a bootcamp for five students,
each of whom paid $10,000.00 to attend, with bonus footage of the other cross-marketed
brand-names, like Jeffries, Mystery, and Hypnotica (the male hypnotist so many COG-
gammas swear by). As the alpha marketing experts knew, the gammas would eat the product
alive, making for a quick windfall, before piracy would set in, and the value would drop to next-
to-nothing. Indeed, within a year, copies of this groundbreaking method were turning up for as
low as $20.00, on eBay. Each gamma customer was targeted as if he were beta, and was told
he could become alpha, when the best he could really hope for was beta, and then only via
an extremely protracted process that cannot be learned from anything but experience, something
which cannot be gained overnight.

Had I really wanted to cash in the way the cartel or the mafia did, I could have.
The reason I was attacked so viciously was that I refused to play ball, and would challenge my
competitors in an open forum, with total free speech. I sought out this hostile environment, to
put my ideas to the strongest test, just as I had at The Battle of Kate, when I reacted to falling in
love, not with admiration from afar, but with cold calculation, designed to engineer late-night
isolation in my dorm. In The Replacements, Coach McGinty invoked an old proverb: winners
want the ball. The ball I wanted, was to get the truth out there, and to profit as much as a
fourteen-percenter could. This has resulted in more limited success, yet a much greater
influence, thanks to the alphas spreading my ideas for me, even if they wind up with the lions
share of the revenue.

I had not given up in 2005, but the holding pattern was going to extend a few years
longer than I had expected, again thanks to Katrina. With Mom beginning to noticeably
deteriorate, yet still functional, with PAP consistently profitable, and with the medical-
transcription gig still going strong, I could afford to wait, while the community continued to
explode my audience, and while the internet continued to mature, as more social-networking, and
e-publishing distribution channels began opening up.

CSI: Miami And Ugly Betty

Not long after The Game was published, CSI: Miamis The Score episode, had a
seduction guru murdered by a disgruntled student, and the arresting officer tweaking the
suspect with Just think, where youre going, youll be the target! This was humorous, but
perhaps a cryptic warning about Sodini-types. Ugly Bettys Thousand Words By Friday had
Betty doing an essay for college on the fictitious Tap That!, which was structured like a
community book, except the names were changed (negs became critiques, etc.). For the
essay, Betty takes a wing into the field to try out what she reads in the book, and is horrified.



532
This pair of top-rated primetime shows have strong female audiences of around 30-40
million combined, plus the loyal rerun following on cable, where The Score turns up every
several weeks or so, on A&E, as does the hypnomurder story from CSI: Crime Scene
Investigation, thus further indicating that Big Media is paying attention online. These had small
impact on mainstreaming, other than to show clearly where the future was heading. By
themselves, the mentions mean little, but they set the table for an internet search the second,
third, or fourth time, in addition to those who go hunting after the first. CSI: Miami took great
care to let the community audience know it did its internet homework, while Ugly Bettys
writers seemed to have just read The Game.

The Gunwitch Rape Coverup

Allen Gunwitch Reyes, was in the Class of 1998, or close, an early participant on
ASF, who migrated to mASF, yet retained a presence on both boards. He was noncommercial
until around 2004, and used to post as a regular PUA. His battle-cry of make the ho say no,
an endorsement of actually picking up the bat and taking a swing, rather than sitting on the
sidelines, plus his tough-guy persona, made him difficult not to notice. He would eventually
release Dynamic Sex Life, an e-book for which Formhandle became an affiliate. In June, 2002,
however, before he was as audience-conscious, he made a posting to a board where he claimed to
have seduced an ex by threatening to harm her if she went back to talk to her new guy, which
she didnt. He seemed to feel guilty, but life goes on, especially when no one presses charges.
This certainly made attacks on me look ridiculous, but most just ignored it. I began quoting the
post to show the hypocrisy of the wrongfooting against me, by those who claimed I had insulted
women. Seems a good affiliate program immunizes one against such criticism.

The Eternal August

Many well-meaning outsiders, and Big Media, often conclude, erroneously, that
Valentines Day is our busy season. Actually, its not, because that tends to be a couples
holiday, save for the various rebounding tactics which can be employed on February 15. Even
that, however, pales in comparison to New Years Day, for rebound potential, since, while it is
possible to fuck all components of an MLTR on Valentines Day, it is impossible to even kiss,
even two of them, simultaneously, as one must do to ring in the near year, in a stealth prison roll
call. Even that, however, pales in comparison to the ultimate month for PUA studies,
particularly of the commercial variety: August. The header is a play on the Eternal September,
which began in 1993, when AOL began letting people post to USENET, something considered
the beginning of the end of USENET. In 2007, the Eternal August began when VH-1s The
Pickup Artist had a similar impact on the community, causing a flood of ignorant newbies to
ruin what had once been a pretty cool place, when not engaged in its criminality.

In August, students have money from summer jobs, are anxious about the upcoming
school year (or entering the workforce), and have.student loan checks! Now you know why
bootcamps tend to cost a few thousand dollars! The following post is from the Attraction


533
Forums message boards. Note the first post inquiring about the use of a student-loan check for a
bootcamp, and the response, from an instructor at MMC, Future, which hardly discouraged
the practice:

Your tax dollars at work!

Lesson-Thirty-Eight-Game-NOT-Over-(Full-Text)



534
Lesson Thirty-Eight Point One:
A Triumph Of Technology

In 1996, an evil female hypnotist (EFH) sealed me, thus making it impossible for
me to have a complete, genuine, hypnosis experience. For years, dozens of the worlds most
talented female hypnotists tried, and failed, to break the seal. Some were amazing, and would
have gotten me very deep, absent the seal, but my mind was a brick wall, until one day, a
randomly purchased sexy-hypnosis internet video, smashed the seal into millions of little
pieces, replacing it with that of the female hypnotist on the video, an Ace of Clubs Sorceress,
whose induction could easily serve as a template for any other AOCSs who wonder about the
proper technique to seal a male subject.

Most sorceresses will not commit their inductions to video, due to loss of a tactical
edge, but, for some inexplicable reason, this AOCS elected to make pharmaceutical-grade
hypnosis available to the male masses, for which said masses are forever grateful. Under the
card-CAT rules, I do not love NHBHypnoBetty (7.4),
23
but I have more reasons to love her than
any woman I have ever seen or known, since she has had such a positive impact on my brain and body,
offering a digitally packaged experience similar to perfectly recorded studio music. Her hypnosis, in and
of itself, has an extremely high market value, and enhances any serious collection of recorded hypnosis on
its own. As it happens, her technique also makes her one of the sexiest females, if not the sexiest female,
ever.

On a more serious note, I credit her recording with helping me to beat a fatal condition I was
diagnosed with in 2002, which was supposed to have me dead by 2006, but which was gone by 2009, as
documented by my medical records. NHBHypnoBetty, in addition to turning me on more than any
woman who has ever lived, literally saved my life, even without this miracle, just by enhancing my
creativity, and ability to control my sleep, plus about a hundred other things. While the video has its
limitations, it also has many advantages over live hypnosis, with the top two being the inability of the
hypnotist to abuse the subject, and the ability of the subject to go under, without having to beg the
usually-unmotivated hypnotist. Obviously, Id fuck or marry NHBHypnoBetty in a heartbeat, but she has
married another. My guess is the Ray Effect will doom the marriage, unless her husband can somehow
manufacture feelings for his wife equal to the ones I found so effortlessly. At my age, theres no way
someone like that is going to want a man like me. Instead, the focus must shift to her type, the AOCS, of
which I have met or seen only four:

NHBHypnoBetty (due to ungodly hypnosis talent)
Le Club
MomOfClubs
SHBWitchy

23
My other favorite sexy-hypnosis video is performed by SHBHypnoVeronica (10.0, absolute perfection), but she is
more sexy than a great hypnotist. Depending on whether I want more sexy or hypnosis, I use both videos, but I
really cant decide between the two.


535
Of the four, SHBWitchy was the most hypnotic, and the best-looking, so she was actually the
perfect wife. Hypnosis is unique in that it can be evaluated digitally, which makes proximity
completely irrelevant. The pecking order is simple enough, for what I find sexiest:

1. Hypnosex with an AOCS.
2. A hypnosis video froman AOCS (not just for sex).
3. Sex with a super-elite (OTL, Kate, SHBTakeout, etc.)
4. Sex with an RHC+.

This leads to a strange dichotomy, which has super-elites simply not believing themselves
incapable of turning me on, but when youve seen the absolute sexiest the world has to offer, this is what
happens. As a lifelong sufferer of RHSS,
24
I painted myself into the same perfection corner with the
AOCS-type than I had a soulmate corner with Kate. All is not lost, however, since NHBHypnoBetty,
no matter how sex, is not the only woman with these skillz. However unlikely, I could still wind up
with another AOCS. Another alternative is to consider other suits, particularly the AODSs, like the OTL,
whose private relaxation sessions are on the open market, but Ive never liked trolling for stealth whores,
as this can be offensive to the ones who are not. Unlike most fantasy videos, hypnosis has a real effect
on the mind, which allows for full, L-III probing of a target. I should also note that I have learned
NHBHypnoBettys technique, and performed it on targets since, with similar results. Men who can
hypnotize like her will never be without pharmaceutical-grade lovers, since they can literally brainwash
even a prostitute or stripper into becoming a sex-slave, as Ive also done before (stripper, not prostitute).

Beyond the sexy applications of my new seal, this trance has enabled me to sleep for as long
as fourteen hours after its use, enhanced my creativity, improved my physical health, and general sense
of well-being. It has also improved my PUA economics, because I no longer feel rushed in my search for
a live AOCS. Even as regular hypnotherapy, the video was a tremendous bargain, particularly compared
to the shit that floods most of the market. What separates NHBHypnoBetty fromother sorceresses is her
generosity. A complete, genuine hypnosis experience is provided, all for the price of a retail video, when
she could easily have used her powers to exploit her hypno-addicted suitor-class for millions. Not only
did she not do this, she eliminated the need for men to spend money elsewhere, searching for what she
gave so freely. If that doesnt make her the best fucking chick on the planet, I dont know what would.

That I dont need to worship NHBHypnoBetty, or provide for her, is something I have
increasingly found relieving (particularly financially), because she would definitely preoccupy my life, if
I were charged with being her spouse. Besides, her video gives me everything I truly want fromher,
without my having to do anything in return, and, in the video, she will never age, while always
performing whenever I want her too. This separates her even fromher own card-type, making her a Club
among Clubs. On another note, for those who wish to be hypnotized by middle-aged males, check out
the various NLP gurus on the internet.

I know I freaked NHBHypnoBetty out with my gratitude, but I hope she can take these two
compliments as they were intended:

1. Thank you for saving my life; and
2. Job. Well. Done.

24
Thats Ridiculously High Sexual Standards.


536

What produced her greatness was simply doing the job her producer gave her, as best she
could. Like a messenger who couldnt have known that the package s/he was carrying held the fate of the
free world in the balance, she could not have known what was at stake for me with what she did, but Im
damn glad she did it. I can say, with 99.99 percent certainty, that, had she not performed as well as she
did on her video, that I would not be alive at present, either due to my physical condition, or a simple
suicide, with the first likely causing the second. I did have some help fromsome other tactics, but the
temporal proximity of my rebound suggests her work was the main culprit. Even my love for Kate
cannot approach the gratitude I feel for NHBHypnoBetty, yet I still must say I loved Kate more, for I
never even met my lifesaver.

The above raises a very disturbing question, at least to me: just how much did I love Kate?
No wonder I went feral.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?11154-Lesson-Thirty-Eight-Point-
One-A-Triumph-Of-Technology-(Full-Text)



537
Lesson Thirty-Nine:
All Horseplayers Die Happy

Any year that claims the lives of your best friend (Banned4Life), and your mother,
three months apart, rarely makes the highlight films, and 2007 did not for me. This also wiped
out about ninety percent of my racetrack company, as measured by total hours. I am still pleased
to know that, on her final day, Mom saw me win $200.00+at Delaware Park, a sign my ROI was
returning to positive territory, after a rough patch earlier in the year, and another missed jackpot
($27k+) at Mountaineer Park, this time the product of a decision not to take a stab with $80.00 of
a $500.00+win. Mom died just prior to the premier of VH-1s The Pickup Artist, the final leg
of the Red Queens journey. This was tragic, but it also meant she could no longer be targeted
by the community. The condition Mom was in when I left the hospital right before she died
was such that I doubt she (or anyone in those shoes) would have wanted to live even another day.
I went home not knowing, yet knowing, what to hope for when the hospital called. Mom didnt
do sick very well.

Mom was profitable to the end as a horseplayer, as was Banned4Life, who
supplemented his disability checks (he had HIV/AIDS) with substantial winnings, while Mom
scored several jackpot wins, including a $7,000.00+payoff in 2002, and her final big win, a
$3,000.00+score on the day after Thanksgiving, 2005, with her bankroll supplied by a 50-1
winner in Maryland that returned me to profitability as well. The Mountaineer near-miss caused
me to tilt, and to alter my play towards hitting life-altering jackpots, in part because of the
substantial amount of time I was investing in PAP. Jackpot play reduces infrastructure costs, and
I lacked the large bankroll necessary for the grind it out approach. In the Mountaineer race, I
had done the PAP ratings in three minutes, while exhausted, on a day where I was down to $3.00
at the end of the Philadelphia Park card, hit a double by disqualification, then hit almost
everything at Penn National and Mountaineer that night, and didnt want to lose back $80.00 to
stupidity. Call it Double Ex Redux: the decision was theoretically correct, yet burned me,
even if I knew I had saved $80.00 many times in similar situations (that adds up too).

The Lawyers Clean Up All Details

After Mom died, I began a process of delitigating, even though I filed two more
lawsuits, one over the Fake Ray Gordon chess scandal (it made the New York Times several
times as the Fake Sam Sloan scandal, for those who care), and the other over copyright, but I
was done with defamation and discrimination cases, since all this was doing was wasting my
time and money, and enriching opposing counsel. Some cases were won, some were lost, and
some settled, with the public records showing what is not confidential, for those who care to
look. For the reader, it matters only that legal redress was difficult, and it was easier to just
delitigate, but this took time. I did note that, for months after Mom died, my haters continued to
claim I was living off of her, even though I had noted her death in a lawsuit pleading requesting
additional time to meet a deadline, thus indicating a lack of due diligence on these neutral
third-parties.


538

Universal Default

Accumulated credit-card debt, on which I defaulted, first after the court-ordered psych
exam, for which I was assessed $1,000.00 in costs for not attending (one cannot be jailed for
refusal to obey a Rule 35 order in a civil case), had caused me to miss one payment on a CapOne
card, but that created a fee spiral that made it wiser to stop paying all my cards, in preparation
for a Chapter 13 bankruptcy (to protect my intellectual property). As it turned out, I beat back a
lawsuit by CapOne in 2008, using the novel argument that they had displayed contributory
negligence by lending money to me. My goal was to just exhaust all winning chances, but
CapOne pulled the case, the statute of limitations on debt passed (four years in PA, six in most
others), and I was suddenly, for all intents and purposes, debt free, without having to go through
another bankruptcy! The header refers to my reversal of what the cards do to people who
accept rate-hikes over one late payment. Those who think I was gaming the system should
research the term economic hit, to see why I won. It was not my duty to refuse the loans; it was
Cap Ones not to make them.

Courts tend to favor the wealthy, who can afford proper representation, and the stupid
(gammas), who wouldnt be complaining unless it were an open-and-shut case, usually personal-
injury. A fourteen-percenter like me did poorly precisely because I could argue without an
attorney, thanks to my law-office experience. It was when I stopped trying to show up the
system, and argued more like a layperson (gamma), that judges grew more sympathetic to my
arguments, giving me a few favorable rulings, which aided the delitigation process. The final
case, a lawsuit over the chess scandal, was one I elected not to appeal, or refile, because all it
would have done was waste my time, and enriched opposing counsel, even if I won the case.
The first round of lawsuits was to help resolve the law in unchartered areas, like internet
defamation, and reverse-discrimination, but once they were ruled upon, the law was settled, and
the legal climate was more certain, however unfavorable the case outcome may have appeared.
Any precedent was better than none, because it clarified the rules going forward.

Community PUAs Harass My Dying Mother

Despite the obvious success of The Game, and the millions of dollars the top gurus
were earning, their flunkies were still treating me as some kind of threat to their existence. As I
had warned that I intended to notify Big Media of the posting histories of various celebrity
PUAs, and their associates, this seemed to tick off some of the betas, who decided to attack
me this time, by targeting what they perceived as my support resources, namely Mom, who was
four months shy of dying, and for whom caregiving required increasing amounts of my time.

Mom opened the letter, began reading it, then handed it to me, saying this sounds like
more internet crap. She had been impersonated on a sex newsgroup, with our contact
information posted, years earlier, so nothing really shocked her. Still others had harassed us in
other ways I wont mention, but it was not just an internet flamewar. This, however, was so


539
over the top, that not only does it speak about those who did it, but about all who incited it, and
all who have stood down, despite proof of it, including Big Media. The reader should note that the
author of this letter deliberately included scandalous material about third parties, so that I could not
refute it by displaying it. The content is included here, with the names redacted, in the hope that the
public, including Big Media, and all the A-listers who have been kissing up to this Mafia, get a clue.
Particularly telling is how they try to sound polite when facing the world, like a typical cultie.

Even without any political impetus, one would think that carrying out a threat to tell
my mother would undermine any claims of being alpha, but gammas dont think things
through like this. Following is the vitriol, with annotations and redactions:

Dear <Rays Mom>:

I
25
amwriting you about your son, <my birth name>, and his activities on the Internet
and in various courts in Pennsylvania and Delaware.
26
<Ray>first came to my attention
in October of 1996,
27
when he would have been 28 years old. At this point in time,
<Ray>was posting mostly in groups related to hypnosis under the nic 'WhizardRay' and
calling himself Ray Gordon. Allow me to quote fromthe Usenet article that brought
your son to my attention, originally posted by a third party:

<republication of defamatory/harassing alt.hypnosis newsgroup article, from
1996>
28

During the following three years, <Ray>would routinely try to pass himself off as a
gymnastics coach.
29
This was made even more disturbing when it was discovered that
Gordon was writing rape stories staring several underaged female gymnasts. Allow me
to quote a few paragraphs of his story <redacted to protect innocent gymnasts>:

"Now do you understand, cunt?" Ray asked <redacted>, the teen's gaze riveted to the
transformation of little <redacted>. The little teen was being raped to death, and she was
urging her black rapists to even greater heights of depravity. A tear came to <redacted>s
eyes, and she nodded her head. Yes, she did understand. This was hell, and these men were
soulless demons. "Let's check out Razorman," Ray dragged <redacted>by the hair over to
where the knifemaster and his squad were flaying <redacted>and <redacted>alive. Close
at Razorman's heals was Cannibal, who lived up to his name. <redacted>was in worse

25
Trying to sound so personal when anonymous, and wanting credibility, yet refusing to stand behind its words. So
typical.
26
Translation: I dont like what your son posts, I cant run him off the internet, and now hes suing me and my
friends over what were doing to him. Waaaah!!!
27
Translation: hes been stalking me for over a decade, probably for hire.
28
False accusations were made against me, proven false, and the adversaries dispersed, but the postings make good
republication fodder, particularly with Section 230 immunity. The source of these allegations no longer supports
them.
29
Offering to retrieve gymnasts from abusive coaches requires no gymnastics knowledge. I had clear knowledge of
child abuse, and reported it to state and federal authorities, who did nothing. The defamation was retaliatory,
designed to invent a motive for my lying about abuse, which I wasnt, as was proven in late 1998, after which I
vacated the community.


540
shape than <redacted>, and it was obvious the chunky, muscular teen had been attempting
to fight off Razorman and his men. She was now being held down as the Razor skillfully
carved graffiti over her muscular body with a laser-sharp pen knife. CLTNT! SLAVE!
WHORE! PAIN-TOY! DOG! PIG! The blood-carved words assaulted the eyes like the
carnage from an airplane crash. <redacted>was sobbing hysterically, the pain
overwhelmed by the very thought that she was being skinned alive.

After this was revealed, your son stopped trying to solicit gymnasts to coach,
30
but he
does still regularly post to the gymnastics newsgroups.

<snip of republication of hate-website content>

It was around this time that your son started filing numerous meritless lawsuits
31
against
several people and entities. The list of defendants in your sons lawsuits include, but are
not limited to, The University of Pennsylvania,
32
Ross J effries of California,
33
Learn The
Skills,
34
and <J ohn Doe>of Mississippi.
35
Most of these lawsuits have been dismissed
because of filing errors made by your son. For example, the reverse gender
discrimination lawsuit against UPenn was dismissed because <Ray>never applied for a
specific job,
36
and the case against Learn The Skills was dismissed for lack of
jurisdiction.
37
The most noteworthy lawsuit that <Ray>filed was a copyright
infringement case that he brought against Google claiming damages in excess of ten
billion dollars. This case was dismissed last year for failure to state a claim. Right now,
Google is trying to claimeleven thousand dollars in damages against your son.
38
While
Google attempts to win that claimagainst your son, <Ray> is busy trying to prosecute
another lawsuit against Learn' The Skills, Ross J effries and <J ohn Doe>. This case is
being prosecuted in Delaware. In the Delaware case, <Rays>pleadings consist of
movie quotes and blatantly inaccurate information.
39
As you can imagine, <Rays>case
isn't going well. It is only a matter of time before <Ray>is called to task over his recent
behaviour in the judicial system.

30
Actually, it was a gymnast running away and confirming the abuse stories that ended my involvement in the sport.
She has since confirmed my abuse allegations many times over, and was believed when she ran away, despite being
accused by her family of lying.
31
Not a lawyer, but it plays one on the internet.
32
For employment discrimination.
33
The Seduction Mafia/Cartel lawsuit.
34
Id.
35
Listed as the domain contact for hate-website.com, later claimed to just own the domain, and not know the
identity of the publisher of the site, which is like saying one doesnt know who is driving a car they own, and for
which they are the only ones with the keys. Geiger has never posted much in the way of seduction advice.
36
The court ruled I had applied. Moreover, Tina Vignali would later sue for sexual harassment, over a job created
specifically for her, thus refuting UPenns claim that they considered only specific applicants.
37
LTSC had avoided selling products to people in Pennsylvania, so I refiled in Delaware, where the corporation was
registered. Not very alpha if you ask me.
38
It was an attorney-fee claim, and it was denied. Moreover, in a similar lawsuit I brought against Microsoft and
Yahoo, that judge invalidated the ruling in the Google case, and set a trial date, after which we all settled it, under
confidential terms, at what was essentially a Mexican standoff position created by the judge.
39
Inaccurate, because some anonymous freak says so, of course.


541
You may want to examine what kind of liability you would encounter
40
should
Google's motion for damages be approved, considering that you are his primary
method of support. One thing is clear: Over the past decade, your son's condition has
deteriorated. If you're still his primary means of support, you should consider what
would become of him after you pass on.
41
You should also consider weather [sic] or not
your son is in need of psychiatric help, before the decision is made for you, most likely
by law enforcement,
42
as there is a possibility that your son will stop fantasizing about
violence and actually try some of the things he writes about.

Anonymous [duh]

The Violence Against Women Act has been expanded to make anonymous internet-
harassment a felony. This type of communication already was a felony, but the online versions
of this letter, which wound up published, broke the new law as well.

Astute readers will note the extreme wrongfooting:

1. <Rays Mom>, according to internet hearsay, your son has done
________ to people I am claiming to care nothing about.

2. Therefore, you should kick him out. If you dont, you might incur legal
liability.

Waaaaaahhh!!! These men claim to be alpha males!!! The attempted unholy alliance
between SSers, UPenn, and PUAs was intriguing. With VH-1s The Pickup Artist about to debut, I
began seriously wondering if Big Media would even care, concluding it likely would not, particularly
given how much it had invested in Mystery. Style, somehow, managed to miss a decade of this type of
harassment, while finding time to make celebrities out of those with direct ties to those who were
engaging in it.

In an attempt to flush out the author of the note, I posted a message to ASF, a few days after
receiving this letter, claiming Momhad received a death threat in the mail (the pass on remark sort of
qualified). I did not reveal the contents of the letter, which Derek Odious Trunk (a fan of my
competitors for a decade, who has flamed me and Mom for most of that time) forgot, when he posted a
response which stated:

I have seen the letter, and

Thanks for sharing. Trunk used to flame me for living with Mom, when I was thirty-one, and
he was twenty-one. He is now thirty-three, and still posting fromhis fathers Cox communications
broadband account (subpoenas in previous lawsuits confirmed his identity). Once he realized he had
grabbed the bait, Odious then claimed to have found the letter online, as if he somehow knew just

40
Now now, thats a threat against Mom. Not nice.
41
Nice implied death threat.
42
This is called harassment under color of law.


542
where to find it, where someone else had randomly posted it (this is called a straw man scheme.
Suffice it to say legal options are still being explored, though the systemcares little, when it views the
conflict as just an internet flamewar.

A gamma will react to the foregoing as follows:

Wow, I better not fuck with the guys who wrote that letter.

The betas and alphas (and most targets) will say:

Hes weak.

Expressions of sympathy were pity in disguise, cloaked by a desire not to admit to
ones apathy, yet keeping the option open to be my friend, should things turn in my favor.
Whats interesting is that the self-interest of the audience was also ignored, as it turned to these
very same men for advice. Trunk was not some rank-and-file gamma, but has been a hanger-on
of several celebrity gurus, who have turned to him for assistance with online publicity,
particularly on ASF. Now he seemed to be quarterbacking the unholy alliance, all the while he
was thirty (in 2007), and posting from his fathers account. Since the purpose of his posting was
to attempt to ruin my rep, his didnt matter to anyone, another annoying gamma habit.

The most daunting question of all is one few men have the balls to ask:

What type of female desires men like this?

If the men who harassed my dying mother were among the worlds greatest PUAs,
then their conquests were among the worlds dumbest slut-trash. That targets could align
themselves with men they would otherwise despise, to accuse me of misogyny, while
threatening a dying, elderly woman (one with more class than anything theyve ever fucked, and
better-looking in her prime than any target), tells one all one should need to know about why
their love lives are so fucked up.

The George Sodinis of the world are what funds this. Readers who claim they didnt
know will now need another excuse.


543
Lesson Forty:
VH-1s The Pickup Artist

Ten days after Mom died, it finally happened: VH-1s The Pickup Artist premiered,
bringing the community to millions of gammas, nationwide, and destroying the advantage
enjoyed by the Class of 1998, in much the same way as Beyer destroyed speed-handicapping.
My battle-cry of game over gained new life, particularly as targets all over the country began
busting those who used the material from the show in the field, or who had used it in the past,
the real danger from the Red Queen (think: golf clubs). The target-class was equally fascinated
and frustrated by its secret truths being revealed, and took it upon itself to finally learn what
had been brewing for a decade online.

The declaration from VH-1 that Mystery was the worlds greatest pickup artist, was
all the shows titular character would ever need to draw millions in revenue from our nation of
gammas, now eager to fork over money, due to the impressive As seen on VH-1, CNN
marketing copy atop the Venusian Arts Corporation (VAC) website. To hear VH-1 tell it,
Mystery was anointed by his business competitors as king of the PUAs, and VH-1 was now
communicating this discovery to the world, with its full endorsement. The result was it got
even more publicity than The Game, with Mystery now the communitys first bona-fide
celebrity, replete with what should have been Strausss media tour, and millions of viewers for
the surprise hit reality show.

A Tale Of Transformation Of Eight Lovable Losers

When I saw the bootcamp-style tagline for the reality show, I knew immediately
where it was going, and was glad that the public would finally become aware of the basic
structure of the community, its indoctrination process, and its teaching. When VH-1 offered a
$50,000.00 prize, and the title of Master Pickup Artist to the winner, I cringed, because a
genuine PUA transformation can take years, not even including the VCABM leading up. At
best, these men would have the same skillz I had post-Kate, around the time of HBHalloween;
more likely was a match for when I met NHBSkates. The viewers would get an eight-week
bootcamp, with the standard reality-show treatment.

Shortly after the show premiered, various internet sleuths found pages which indicated
that the lovable cast members werent the total losers one might have concluded from the
show. Brady Sprunger, for example, had a modeling page with an agency, or model-hosting
page, and the looks to find some work. The winner, Kosmo, had worked as a DJ in trendy
nightclubs, a job which can usually get most any man laid, and which requires a fair amount of
L-I game just to do. Joe Fat Joe Doyle, had studied acting in college, and done standup
comedy, while another contestant was billed as a graphic artist, but neglected that he worked
for major Hollywood studios, and had strong lifestyle game. While it is true that these
ResumeDudes could easily have lacked game, the before picture was presented as


544
unflatteringly as possible, likely to make the transformation seem more dramatic. As this text
painfully illustrates, the real world doesnt move at this warp speed.

Episode One: The Club CABM

In traditional community fashion, Mystery threw his students to the wolves, with the
first episode dedicated to crashing and burning at the club, supposedly a nightclub in Austin,
where they were mostly brutalized, as a means of becoming desensitized to rejection, and
depersonalizing the target-class. In this episode, someone noticed Herbals ex-girlfriend, while
others noted that the name of the club was never given. Yet another asked how the targets
were kept unaware of what was going on, since they would have had to sign releases to get their
faces shown, and the mystery unraveled. It would further unravel, when, down the road, one
of the disgruntled targets would post a message to VH-1s own board, with some startling
claims:

1. The show was scripted.

2. The contestants were actors and models.

3. The targets were planted, mostly actresses and models.

4. The club was not open to the public.

5. She had been promised an acting credit, which she had not received.

6. She had to sign two releases: one from VH-1, stating she wasnt getting
paid by VH-1 (weasel-word alert!), and another one, which stated she would
be paid $150.00.

When I contacted the author via her official MySpace page, I learned that she was a
singer in the Austin area who had responded to an ad, I confirmed the above, via a few
promotional models who had worked on the show, including one who confirmed the fake club
and poolside scenes. This was dwarfed, however, by the claim that another contestant was
kicked off Season Two for hitting on one of the female hosts! How dare he! I was repeatedly
invited to try out for the show, but said Id only go on if I could bring a date, to mock how
easy it would have been to find one for television.

The remainder of Season One of VH-1s The Pickup Artist included a scene where
one of the contestants (I believe it was Brady) plucked a stripper from her Austin stripclub, for a
limousine makeout. My haters on StripperWeb took a timeout from their alliance with the
seduction mafia to call bullshit, for three reasons:

1. They knew the owner of the stripclub, and his policy against OTC.


545

2. The state of Texass policy against OTC was to call it solicitation. And

3. Its bad for business for dancers to admit leaving with customers, or to be
seen doing it, so the most shed have done is slipped him an e-mail, or her
#.

Even if the contestant had gotten the makeout, plucking is not as difficult as men
think, but it is unpredictable. A more realistic presentation would have been similar to my
consolidated stripper lay report, would have shown him running the same routine a few dozen
times, prior to striking gold, and would have shown a process of improvement as he made on-
the-fly adjustments to his canned material. The method I listed in the CSLR still works, but I
have moved on to more advanced strategies, while the stripclubs have deteriorated horrifically.
The same game can be run on most any adult-entertainer, and even the stealth whores who
pollute the mainstream bars and clubs, but there youre up against more athletes and celebrities
than at the stripclubs.

Another problem with any reality show format for seduction advice, is that it deals
with only a fraction of game. Prostitution, golddigging (unless part of the show, like Who
Wants To Marry A Millionaire?), office game (due to sexual-harassment laws, not portable to
television), EL-IIs, and the Kasparov shit, like the note to SHBDancer, that the PUAs smart
enough to use would never reveal for public consumption, in part because these tactics are too
individualized, do not make for good television. L-III gimmicks would run afoul of the censors,
and even their L-II deployment might be banned for being too suggestive. At some point, the
presence of cameras will not impact the authenticity of what is broadcast, but its up to everyone
involved. Season Two would have been fascinating, if the contestants could have gamed the
female hosts, with no holds barred, because it would have been genuine. As the scripting
becomes too transparent, the public will ultimately seek truth.

Ray-Hating Continues Mainstreaming

On the VH-1 boards, the discussions were lively, and, not surprisingly, Odious
showed up, with his civilized face, yet still sank low enough to post the vitrol from hate-
website.com. I had hoped that the presence of corporate sponsors might flip the lightbulb
switch at Viacom, but nothing materialized, since it was dismissed as internet flaming. This
was on the same site that listed the pivot in its PUA glossary, again without attribution. Over
this, I filed suit against Viacom, and another antitrust suit against Mystery, this time over his
companys affiliate program, which I argued was an illegal restriction on retail distribution, but
lost on technical grounds.

Now for the post from the paid actress:



546

I claimed that this proved false advertising, with enormous economic damage, since
the gammas treated the show as real, found Mystery on the internet, often through VH-1s
affiliate link, that VH-1 cashed in via advertising revenue, and that they had stolen the pivot,
which I could prove was my idea, with a copyright registration dated 1999.

Heres a post from Odious:

He follows me around the internet, claims to have found the contents of a harassing
letter sent to Mom, yet could not have found this without being or knowing the author, and then
comes to a mixed, general audience, of a show with corporate sponsorship, and tries to claim
solidarity with a target-class that supposedly despises PUAs and NLPSeducers. Viacom was
protected by Section 230 here, but only for what appeared on its website. Apparently, as long as
everything stays online, even Big Media doesnt care about overtly criminal conduct, taken on
behalf of one of its revenue-generators. The gamma public just goes along, actually believing
the obviously-staged show, to the point where several ex-contestants are now four-figure gurus
themselves. Its enough to drive a fourteen-percenter insane.

Lest I forget, its always nice to watch Big Media steal my ideas, without attribution:


547

Threats From SlickDude

Given what Mysterys crew was attempting to do to me publicly (what Ive
published here is the tip of the iceberg), what they did privately should not shock anyone.

The main character in this next drama is SlickDude. His -mail address was listed as a
reference for several gurus, because he had gained a name for himself by trashing RSD.
Before we begin, heres an e-mail sent to me on AOL by SlickDude, which is still in my Saved
on AOL folder, which cannot be doctored, and which is still saved.

This mail was sent to reengage me after I had stopped speaking with SlickDude,
instead choosing to take the dispute to court. I had amended the Delaware lawsuit to add him as
a defendant, and AOL served up his address in response to a subpoena. I had heard his


548
allegations before, but never so irrefutably. His connection to Odious was established, when
Odious referenced service of the lawsuit, before I had announced it, due to an apparent
communication from SlickDude, that I had spoken with his mother, when she called me to find
out why a lawsuit arrived at her door. I explained, very politely, that this was the address that
turned up, and it turned out to be name confusion, as SlickDude had, like Sodini, gotten his own
home. Odiot (my name for him) didnt like this, and began lashing out on USENET, with all this
going down a year before his VH-1 post, and prior to his finding the text of the threatening
letter sent to Mom.

SlickDude had an interesting commentary on Odious:

The remainder of SlickDudes conduct speaks for itself, and is very revealing about the
community:



549
This was a claim that Mystery was behind Seduction.gr, a piracy website, designed to
starve any competitors who did not have a thriving bootcamp business, including J effries (who
sold DVD sets mostly), or guys like me, who sold e-books, since his bootcamp business would
not be impacted by this, except to feed him more live students.

SlickDude was an obvious gamma, or someone deliberately posing as one. He would
flame RSD, yet never seek alternative advice, beyond claiming Mystery was going to cure his
problem. He then let me know that this was staged, and that he would wind up an instructor with
MMC at the end, but this was foiled when I included his bragging about it in my lawsuit
pleadings, which is what ticked him off this time.

Heres a nice one:

He was a little late: Mom had died months earlier, and he never checked that I had
notified the court of her death, the day after she had died. By remaining silent, I proved a lack of
diligence, but also made it impossible for anyone to harass me, in an attempt to make a self-
fulfilling prophecy out of their claims that I could not function without Mom. Obviously, I can,
and have been, for well over two years. If anything, not having to play caregiver has freed my
time for more profitable pursuits, though I would have helped Mom out for as long as it took.
My ferality made it irrelevant that I was living with her, and I had already decided that Mom was
a bigger priority than some Diamond who would judge me for living with her. My options for
taking care of business were reduced, but that would have been the case regardless of my living
situation, absent massive wealth and fame. As I said, I was honored to be able to help Mom, to
the extent I could, and ensure she never had to spend a moment in a nursing home.

When I say Sodini-type, this is the type of behavior to which I refer. SlickDude
expressed a similar disconnect, as if he didnt even understand the consequences of his words or


550
actions. He saw me as his ticket to hanging with the alphas and tried to make the most of it.
Heres another threat from him to drive to my home and kill me:

The goal was to destabilize me, so my conduct in response to these threats could be
used to support claims that I was mentally ill. With multiple people attacking me, responding to
all on USENET would have given that impression; by responding here, instead, I can give a
more centralized viewpoint of what things looked like from my end.

Now for another beaut:

This was a threat against a protected computer" in violation of The Computer Fraud
And Abuse Act, 18 USC 1030(A)(7), and a predicate RICO act, but it was just the internet, so
who gives a flying fuck? Its not like he shot up a health club or anything. I did learn he had a
bit of a penchant for street-drag racing, but I doubt anyone has gotten hurt.yet.



551
Heres a nice one about seduction.gr, the site whose group buys sent my readership
into the millions, without sending a single cent my way:

And now for a little trainwrecking:

Mysterys personal success was not enough; like any alpha, he needed to play god
with the finances of others, something a beta wont do, while the gammas like SlickDude fell
right into line to assist the process, and Big Media laughed all the way to the bank, while men
everywhere were taking his advice on how to conduct their love lives. I should add that his
bootcamps did not help SlickDude get laid much, and that he was growing increasingly
frustrated with his results, much like some other community gammas, and like Sodini.

Looks like SlickDude didnt miss the lesson on AMOGing:



552

So far this is enough to lock him up almost for his natural life, if law-enforcement had
given a shit. One can only imagine what Sodini said to those who dissed his mancrush, Steele.

Sodini-types always need someone to blame. Heres yet another link to white-
supremacy:

The gammas dont really care about internal community politics, and just want
good products at good prices, yet become extremely difficult consumers to reach, due to their
demand for a Big-Media filter, particularly when this is the job Big Media is doing of screening
its experts. While money was flowing like champagne in Mysterys world, thanks to his
celebrity, guys like me were having to deal with stuff like this, only to hear the gammas whine
about how the community is dead, and no one posts good advice anymore, when they arent
busy wishing the information hadnt been secret for years, or wondering how to make best use
of a pivot, that thing explained on the VH-1 website. Part of the being a fourteen-percenter is
having eighty-six percent of your lunch eaten by alphas, due to their willingness to exploit
gammas in a way that betas refuse.


553

Thanks to Google, and a nation of gammas, the attacks on my reputation have made it
difficult to interact with some new people. Fortunately, my life is structured so that my freelance
clients couldnt care less (they hire me via the skillz premium), my PAP clients just want
winning horses, and my readers just want good information. Horseplaying, of course, is one
thing no one can interfere with, unless they can shut down racetracks. My target-class is
intelligent enough not to buy into internet hating, or to let me refute the lies, as I have done here,
as efficiently as possible, without fixating on it, beyond the dozen or so pages on the issue, and
then returning to the task of aiding the reader in procuring the distribution and use of
pharmaceutical-grade women.

As I have often noted, if Charles Manson gave effective seduction advice, people
wouldnt hesitate to buy it, just as some would or have purchase(d) his music. Commercial
wrongfooting is not only logically flawed, its definitely not alpha. The reality is, its not
those who defame who are the true evil, but those who entertain the lies, against all common
sense, and do nothing more than prove they are hopeless gammas I am way better off without.
Those who have harassed me have done so to others, and will continue to do so, until enjoined.
Just like no one cares about what they did to me, no one will care about men who wind up
hoodwinked into making poor seduction, decisions, sometimes with lifetime consequences.
Some have mistakenly thought I was attempting to win the approval of the public by addressing
the lies, but they are wrong. I said then, and say now, that this, more than anything else, should
send up some serious red-flags about both the community and its gurus, the ones who claim
to be in control, and alpha. Do they appear this way to you?


554
Field Report One Hundred Ten:
Too Fucking Seventeen

Meet my midlife crisis:

DATE: December 2007
FROM: Ray (Age 40)
SUBJ ECT: FU+: SHBKobayashi-Maru
NOW PLAYING: This Used To Be My Playground, by Madonna
IN THE NEWS: Home Prices Continue To Soar
TARGET CARD: Ace Of Spades

Internet boredomcan do strange things. Got sick of self-pitying, and decided to end my
PUA retirement, sorta. J ust for fun, I decided to take the Kobayashi-Maru test,
like in Star Trek, which simulates CERTAIN DEATH. To accomplish this mission, I
would find the hottest SHB I could, open her, and see how long itd take me to crash-
and-burn.

SHBKobayashi-Maru (9.5) fit the bill perfectly. I open her on MySpace, after seeing her
really cool page (shes a performing artist), and comment on her rising star, which she
was. I normally dont talk to seventeen year-olds, particularly SHBs, but this was just
for opener practice, plus shed be out the door at eighteen anyway, if not on television.
Imfiguring Ill crash-and-burn really quick, and get it over with; nothing like being
brushed off by the BEST! So we start trading MySpace messages andI DONT GET
BLOWN OUT!! First its a message here and there, then nothing, then a few more, then
nothing, then, as Christmas began approaching, WHAM! THREE MESSAGES IN AN
HOUR! The last one showed she actually REMEMBERED stuff fromthe previous
messages. Shes real confused because so much is happening with her life, and shes
home a lot because shes.TOO FUCKING SEVENTEEN! Because I didnt crash-
and-burn for anything else, I hit this AGE WALL. I eventually had to crash-and-burn
myself, because it was like driving a fucking BUMPER CAR. Cant even use my best
material, and had to keep putting the brakes on. Shes great but Imno BABYSITTER.

She HATES guys my age hitting on her too (like aggressively asking her to meet), and I
never did that. ENGAGED her with my first message, by commenting on her work and
telling her to watch out for the sharks in the industry. She thinks Ima fucking
GOOFBALL now, but thats better than being thought an old creep, but she probably
thinks that too. Shes called like all the guys my age creepers; its stereotyping, but
shes pretty cool to talk to and I dont hide my age. Seventeen year-olds (even SHBs)
arent worth it online, unless youre just testing out new shit like I was here. Shes got
like 400 guys gaming her on MySpace and its funny to watch themall crash. Girl has
some serious GAME.

Ray



555

I stood at the plate, waiting for the pitch:

<whoosh!>.<thwap!>
<whoosh!>.<thwap!>
<whoosh!><thwap!>

Strike TWELVE!! Caught looking.


I wanted to see just how far I had fallen, and I couldnt get up. Willie Mays in centerfield for
the Mets in 1973 comes to mind. It was time to hang up my post-VCABM game and start
accumulating Spitzers, or figuring out some new scheme to Date Young Women For Men Over Thirty-
Five. The EL-II seemed most logical, along with some lightning-in-a-bottle flukes with the L-III
gimmicks. That didnt change the fact that I had become the seduction equivalent of Stan Ross in Mr.
3000, picking up the bat long after I should have, and making one final, desperate attempt at recapturing
past glory. In my twenties, I would have had a chance here; now, it was just a whitewash. I couldnt
even get the bat around. Seventeen year-old super-elites are often very bored online, and are happy to do
the online EL-II until they go legal, exit their front door, and never look back, as this one did, and as she
should, since were all young only once.

I did learn a great deal fromthis targets MySpace page, about how to vaporize other guys.
Anytime a guy crossed the EL-II line, he would be deleted fromher Top Friends, and replaced by others.
Dozens, upon dozens, of extremely high-quality young males brought their A-game,. She was very smart
not to telegraph much, except in her comments and exchanges with friends. Id imagine that, as a teen,
Id have had her deep in a MEL-II, with many others like her on MySpace, and this might have worked to
my advantage, since age would not have been an offsetting, even fatal, weakness. On the other hand, she
was still a cut below the OTL and Kate, but so was, and is, everyone else.


556
Lesson Forty-One:
A Stripper In The Road

The title is a reference to a book written by the mother of one of the strippers who used to post
to StripperWeb, the exotic-dancer equivalent of the seduction community, with the goal of hustling
men out of their money, via the nations stripclubs. The site even has similar products and bootcamps,
most notably Strip And Grow Rich (nee DancerWealth), run by Rebecca Britney Ireland Vigliotti, of
Arizona. StripperWeb itself was founded by Curtis Pryce, and, at least until recently, has been funded
primarily by Kevin The Other Owner Hendzel, owner of a company called ASET International, Inc.,
now a subsidiary of COMSYS IT. Hendzels company provides translation services to clients, including
the Criminal Division of the United States Department of Justice. The Road book was about the
strippers younger sister, who had died, thus leaving this dancer as the stripper in the road.

In the course of a flamewar on StripperWeb, I would learn that this stripper in question was a
girls soccer and basketball coach at the J ack M. Barack Memorial Academy, outside Philadelphia, a
J ewish religious school, not a likely candidate for hiring an active stripper, particularly one who was
simultaneously blogging about her day and night jobs, on her Stripaholic blog, in ways anyone could
discover, just as I had. I had originally been flamed for claiming that StripperWeb was a good reason for
men to stop going to the stripclubs, due to privacy concerns, and this led to some of the dancers hitting
the search-engines, and reposting what they found about me online, thus creating an unholy alliance with
the PUAs they claimed werent able to pluck themfromtheir clubs (someone has to be lying here). On
the night Momdied, a dancer who went by Yekefah posted this kindness:

He really needs to move out of his mothers basement and get a life.

The dancer can rest easily, since I no longer live with Mom: she died. This was the first
message I found online, upon returning fromthe hospital, just before I received word of Moms passing.
I pitied her sex-addicted boyfriend, for having to settle for such an ethically vapid creature, but, to him,
she was nice.

Once I outed the stripper/coach, a retaliatory hate posting appeared on the site (her best
friend was a moderator there), as a sticky so that it is always listed on top. Rather than rehash yet
another flamewar, Ill address the few relevant points of the warning post:

1. Its content originally appeared on a white-supremacy server.

2. It claimed (and still claims) I lived with Mom, months after she had died.

3. It lists my address incorrectly, thus involving innocent parties.

4. It encourages people to contact law enforcement, mental health agencies, and my
former, present, or future employers to further warn themabout me.

5. It claims I amunemployed, yet the tooth fairy isnt paying my bills.



557
6. It lists UPenns attorneys, and others, as contacts concerning me, when they
have no formal ties to these people, or anything involving me. Of course, they
could get their names removed if they wanted to, but they just throw up their
hands, the way the courts have.

Numerous other threats against me appeared on Stripperweb (including one dancer saying
he needs to die about me), and the general attitude caused TOO to don his Captain Saveaho costume,
threatening countersuits against me, and explaining that I had no standing to sue, plus that he was in
with federal marshals, and lawyers he knew had laughed at my case, the garden-variety online chest-
pounding. The dancers were thrilled, and gave Emo rewards to Hendzel, who appeared the hero.

In September, 2008, a user named DottieRebel posted the following to StripperWeb:

http://www.stripperweb.com/forum/showthread.php?t=125239

SUBJ ECT: I Was RAPED By The Other Owner

Right now I have an extremely important request.

At this time I have two other victims who were raped by himunder almost the exact
same circumstances, as well as another who is currently unwittingly being groomed in
the exact same manner we three were. One of the other victims is a friend of a very,
very trusted SW member.

I need to know who else is out there. If any of you have any information about other
victims, other women he has had ongoing email contact with, other women he has even
given money or gifts to "with no strings" please email me at
Neveragaino...@yahoo.com.

I PROMISE YOU I WILL NOT BETRAY YOUR CONFIDENCE. I will tell no one.

We have established an unbelievably consistent MO and your information could help.
Even if you accepted money or gifts fromhimwith no intention of meeting with him,
the way he acted with you, the phrasing he used, the types of manipulation he was
attempting to pull off, will all go to back up our stories. I already know about many of
those here who are accepting money and gifts fromhim as he talked to me
ENDLESSLY about his "good deeds". Please come to me and give me the information
that may help get himoff of SW and perhaps be prosecuted or punished in civil court.
Pryce knows some type of information is forthcoming and he has expressed his complete
support. Please help us.

I have chosen to do this despite the public ridicule I will undoubtedly receive. I never,
ever intended to have a sexual or romantic relationship with himand made this
abundantly clear to himcontinuously. I have a lot of evidence, including PMs, to back
this up. I was not one of the "army of whores". I have been offered a great deal of what
is essentially "hush" money (monthly stipend of $5000, the first payment of which he
made after I accused himof rape), lest anyone accuse me of sour grapes.


558

I amsure I will be thrown to the wolves after this. I will be called a whore. I will be
called stupid. I will lose the "respect" of some members. I simply do not care because
this is about something much bigger than me or my online reputation.

This has happened to the LAST WOMAN. I have chosen to stop the cycle of rape by
fighting back.

Please, if you have any info at all, please email me at <e-mail>.

Here is a blog that was posted to Twisted Logic in commentary, prior to its removal:

http://terramichelle.livejournal.com/40908.html?view=2252#t2252 (September 2008)

This has been the strangest week ever. Monday started off with two employees being
fired. Duties have reassigned and it's said that I will be busier fromnow on. I don't
believe it. Busy to me is One World Chiropractic. Nothing will amount to that kind of
busy. A friend was raped about two weeks ago. Raped by a friend. Raped by a man she
knew and trusted.

Fuck you Kevin Hendzel. Fuck you for taking advantage of her. And fuck you for taking
advantage of so many other women. For years I have been a part of an online
community. A place where women could gather and talk about their work experience
and get tips on love, life and health. This creep came in to our world, threw his money
around, and made women boast over how kind, sweet and generous he is.

Why did he do this? To gain the trust of other women. With that trust, he would take
themout and wine themand dine themand be their friend. However, he would also start
cyberstalking themas well. For as many as 4 (more could come forward at this point)....
he took it way too far. He offered them Ativan and wine and a real nice time. Ativan is
known for making people black out if it is mixed with alcohol. It's a common date rape
drug.

He KNOWINGLY gave this to women and URGED themto drink more and "catch up".
It's sickening. He sodomized one of the most amazingly strong women I know. He took
something fromher and left her on a bloody bed. When she awoke the next morning and
realized what had happened.... she was repulsed. And this pathetic excuse for a "man"
acted hurt and cried. He thought it was special. Are you KIDDING me?!

This infuriates me. What's worse though.... even though she has come forward, along
with many other women.... HE is allowed to stay in the community. Many women have
left because of himand his actions and HE stays and continues to be a predator.

I cried most of yesterday about this. I amso proud of my friend for standing up and
hopefully putting an end to this. He may not get "punished" by the court of law but at
least she has the pride in knowing that she has done everything she can to make sure it
doesn't happen to another woman.


559

And this makes me feel guilty. I was nearly raped once. I was totally and completely out
of it. When I came to, I fought with all my heart and all my soul. I yelled and I screamed
and I bit his hand with all my might until he finally let me out. And you know what I did
after that.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And this kills me. I mean, really... there was nothing I
could do since he wasn't actually able to rape me. But, I never told anyone. Well, I told a
few people but they didn't seem to concerned since nothing actually happened. But to
this day it still haunts me. And hurts me. And I wish I could of done something.

It is difficult to have sympathy for anyone involved here, especially since no one had a
problemwith Hendzel when he was using me as gamma-bait. That the warning post about me was
allowed to remain, while everything relating to the alleged rape was censored, and the users banned, was
noted by more than one long-termuser of the site, on her way out.

Americas Dumbest Criminals

Both PUAs and law-enforcement can have a field day on StripperWeb, particularly if they
manage to become friendly with the rank-and-file. Dancers routinely post way too much personal
information (like the coach at the religious school), and often violate customer privacy, reveal
lawbreaking in their clubs (drugs, prostitution, underage dancing, tax and immigration violations, etc.),
and are doing all of this on a website funded by a man who has a contract with the Criminal Division of
the United States Department of Justice, who himself has been accused of serial drugging and raping.
Anyone with half a brain should be able to gather more intel on his dancer-targets than if he read their
diaries, after which he can stumble into her club, and use his insider knowledge to pluck. I no longer
run stripper game, in part because I dont believe in spending money on an industry that allows dancers to
harass customers online, or invade their privacy. Other men seemnot to have this issue, but thats them.

Now that the flamewars are out of the way, we return to the regularly scheduled text.


560
Field Report One Hundred Eleven:
The Battle Of Kate III

Not direct combat, but a lifestyle battle. The note was a white flag of sorts, an admission
she was better off without me than with me, particularly financially. Our wealth gap was simply too
devastating; she had won:

FROM: Ray (Age 41)
SUBJ ECT: FR: Dropped A Note To NHBFashion
NOW PLAYING: Meltdown, by Kanye Singh
IN THE NEWS: Markets Continue To Tumble
43

Caught up with NHBFashion (7.1), formerly SHBFashion, via a social-networking page.
Dropped her a note to say hi, congratulate her on her spectacular career, and let her
know about a new book Imdoing, on fixing the mistakes I made with her.

I said: Its about how even brilliant men can be complete idiots socially. It is, literally,
the book I needed to read three days before I met you. I know she knew what I meant;
no response was necessary. Deleted the account after so she couldnt write back. If she
really wants to find me, she could. Let her work.

Ray


Thoughts of Kate expanded this text into its current form, froma one-dimensional treatise on
Understanding And Seducing The Social-Climbing Slut, which was premised on the assumption that
men should simply seek out the sure thing, for her to be a Diamond, and for himto seduce her with
lifestyle game. This was so incongruent with three of the Four Aces, that a lifetime review was in order;
this text is the product of that review. It was still extremely difficult to make any kind of case that Kate
should have married me. She was so successful, that the best I could have hoped for was to not fuck it up.
Learning that she never married anyone did make me feel better, since I lost her to none of the above,
whose game of no game is much stronger than his rep.


I didnt begrudge Kate her success at all. I loved how she remained free of corruption, even if
she was a terrible snob, a true Manhattan fashion bitch, in every good sense of the word. That she saw
fit to probe me for so long is an amazing compliment, one I still treasure. I didnt like seeing her wax
about the creative types who surround her, as if I were not one of them, but thats her thing, and she had
a quarter-century to look me up if she wanted. It wouldnt be possible for her to see me as what I am

43
Note the drop in rank. Even the mighty eventually come to age.


561
now, given how certain she was of her probing in 1985. Absent the Emo baggage, however, if she had
not known me, she would have given my work the same long look, and drawn a much different
conclusion, which is why men are loathe to open up to the target-class.

By late 2008, my finances had restabilized, with a relatively modest, and decidedly Kate-
negative existence. I hadnt given much thought to my designated-soulmate, yet the more I replayed The
Battle of Kate, particularly with the knowledge she would never marry, the more interesting and intense
the analysis became, particularly as it related to Kates indirect role in the creation of evolution the
seduction community and its theory. As I learned more about the 300, I realized I had about as much
chance of fucking Kate at The Battle of Kate as King Leonidas had of surviving Thermopylae. I also
realized that, at times, a greater glory can be achieved in defeat than with any victory, and that my
victory with Kate lay not in how I played the game, but that I had played the game, that I was willing
to pick up the bat, and take a swing, for the highest stakes possible, rather than remaining a fishbowl
wallflower for a silent year (1985), after which I would have wondered what might have been. For as
painful an experience as Kate was for me, to not have endured it would have been much, much worse, for
much, much longer. I never gave Kate the luxury of avoiding my feelings for her, nor should I have,
because that is what love and marriage is about, even if she elected not to dance with me.

Kate developed into an amazing adult woman, and predictably, while I turned out much as
she might have imagined, and it was clear that she just belonged in her current lifestyle, successful and
independent, and that, with me, there would have been nowhere for her to go fromwhere she wound up,
but down.

Or so I thought: a Donaguska-like change of pace was closer than I had ever imagined. The
world was about to turn upside-down.

Report-One-Hundred-Eleven-The-Battle-Of-Kate-III-(Full-Text)


562
Lesson Forty-Two:
Trading Places

Call 2009 The Year Of Ray Gordon:

1. My corporate oppressors lost their jobs, homes, and 401(k)s, all in one shot.

2. David Letterman proved it was more than my attitude which kept me out of high-
paying office work in Manhattan.

3. J ohn Edwards was revealed to have had an affair with a staffer from his 2008
presidential campaign, and, as this text was going to nonprint, admitted to having
fathered a child with his mistress.

4. Tiger Woods proved why Ive long said never to date women who work after
6:00 p.m.

5. George Sodini singlehandedly became the template for the gamma male, and all
that is wrong with the community.

6. Bernard H. Bernie Madoff personally wiped out the entire fortunes of many who
used to discriminate against me, and who smugly said they were too smart ever to
allow anyone to ruin them. Some suggested I work at McDonalds, and were
finally given the chance, by karma, to take their own advice. This was particularly
sweet, because these gammas lost all their wealth, not just their homes in Palm
Beach and the Hamptons.

7. The financial crisis caused secretaries who smugly claimed my attitude
prevented me fromfinding office work, had to turn to stripping, pornography, and
prostitution to replace their lost income from the jobs they lost, while their
husbands turned into Broke Men Walking.

Too Smart To Fail

Now for a word froma fictitious sponsor:

Good times, and good friends, call for good beer. BAD times for your enemies, call
for something more

Whether its a layoff, or Bernie Madoff, youll want to celebrate their misfortune by
popping open a can of SCHADENFREUDE! Schadenfreude beer is made from the
finest ingredients, so the beer drinker can bask in the knowledge that the other guys
beer is just INFERIOR.

[To the tune of the old Lowenbrau commercials]



563
Heres to bad times
Your enemy has fucked up
The beer well pour
As we laugh and gloat some more
So tonight, tonight
Let it be Schadenfreude

With all these horrible things happening to so many horrible people, including the gammas
who never cared about my financial well-being, or employment justice, but threw hissyfits when the
crooks fleeced them, I had grounds for popping open a case of Schadenfreude! After all, if it were not a
legitimate feeling, would the Germans have bothered creating a word for it? Of course not! Drink up!

The Magic $20.00: The Obama Inauguration Day Stimulus Package

Schadenfreude is all well and good, but some good fortune on my end was also needed to
really enjoy the brew. Unfortunately, this is how PAP was doing during my formal experiment to
determine the methods ROI:

My $0.76 ROI, particularly after the brief spike to begin the year, meant things were looking
horrible for this lifestyle PUA, with no Spitzers anywhere in sight. I continued nursing this text between
races, until this distraction day (everyone watching Obama) had me switching off my television, and
focusing on the task at hand, for all I had left to wager was the magic $20.00, whose name will be
easier to understand after we revisit my ROI:

Date

Bank
Total
Bets
Total
Collect
Daily
Figure
2009
Figure
Daily
ROI
2009
ROI

01/01/09 6.00 14.60 8.60 -6.00 -6.00 $0.59 $0.59
01/02/09 122.30 65.00 42.70 -22.30 -28.30 $0.54 $0.56
01/03/09 100.00 278.40 605.80 +327.40 +299.10 $2.18 $1.84
01/04/09 427.40 687.70 421.20 -266.50 +32.60 $0.26 $1.02
01/05/09 161.10 150.80 114.80 -36.00 -3.40 $0.76 $1.00
01/09/09 100.00 117.20 17.20 -100.00 -103.40 $0.15 $0.92
01/12/09 36.00 45.20 9.20 -36.00 -139.40 $0.20 $0.90
01/16/09 125.00 5.00 0.00 -5.00 -144.40 $0.00 $0.89
01/17/09 175.00 217.20 42.20 -175.00 -319.40 $0.19 $0.80
01/18/09 62.00 84.60 22.60 -62.00 -381.40 $0.26 $0.77
01/19/09 36.00 48.20 12.20 -36.00 -417.40 $0.25 $0.76



564
Jackpot!! One can imagine the typical gamma advising me to call Gamblers Anonymous
with my problem, anytime prior to J anuary 20, 2009, and to call him with my selections thereafter.
Toss in a denial of a loan for food or rent money a week earlier, and the Schadenfreude would taste
perfect, except I didnt need loans, because I restrict my betting to what I can (barely) afford to lose. I
might eat cheap food for a few days, or go without cigs when I have to (they are not a necessity), but I
will get by. The only time I ever lost the roof over my head was due to everything but my wagering,
which almost saved my home. This time, it was just pure TURD-money. In four hours, I had gone from
just paying my bills, to having $2,530.45 in TURD-money, around 1.6 Spitzers, which also meant I had
enough lifestyle game to get laid by a pharmaceutical-grade woman. If Tiger Woods is giving money to
his lovers, no other man should be ashamed to do so, even though I didnt exercise this option. The
point is, I now had tangible proof that, at one point in time, I had at least one Spitzer, and could therefore
run lifestyle game.

When I was younger, I made the foolish mistake of telling my friends (trainwreckers) about
my big wins, thinking theyd be happy to hear the good news, but most werent, and would usually resent
hearing about someone who won one or more months worth of their income, in one fell swoop. This
time, it was not just the cash, but my financial condition when I won it, that it was the most I had ever
won in my life, that it was won with PAP, rather than via a found ticket, and that I had the cameras
rolling on PAP, doing the ratings for Philadelphia Park, every day, for a planned, three-month
experiment, which was going to be cut to one month, to prevent me fromlosing $5,000.00+, always a
threat to occur, even to the best, when my annual stop-loss is around $1,000.00-2,000.00. Suddenly, I
could allocate $50.00 a week for betting, and guarantee myself a profit for all of 2009, even if I lost every
dollar, every week (which never happens).

Instead of pulling back, I remained committed to my three-month experiment, and adhered
to all of my PAP rules, including fire-at-will money-management, and the $200.00/200.00 rule, while
solves the problemof when to take profits, by allocating $200.00 a day for a bankroll, and pulling
$200.00 a day salary froma jackpot win. Here, I took $1,900.00 in cash, and left $600.00+in
PhoneBet, or three days bankroll. The minute I could no longer pay a salary, the daily bankroll would
drop back to my recreational level of $16.00-60.00 for a day, with further lifestyle integration achieved
by my handicapping only the first three or four races at Philadelphia Park, at 11:30 a.m., when I know Im
going to be betting, and to do the remainder of the day, during the early part of the card, or to quit, and

Date

Bank
Total
Bets
Total
Collect
Daily
Figure
2009
Figure
Daily
ROI
2009
ROI

01/01/09 6.00 14.60 8.60 -6.00 -6.00 $0.59 $0.59
01/02/09 122.30 65.00 42.70 -22.30 -28.30 $0.54 $0.56
01/03/09 100.00 278.40 605.80 +327.40 +299.10 $2.18 $1.84
01/04/09 427.40 687.70 421.20 -266.50 +32.60 $0.26 $1.02
01/05/09 161.10 150.80 114.80 -36.00 -3.40 $0.76 $1.00
01/09/09 100.00 117.20 17.20 -100.00 -103.40 $0.15 $0.92
01/12/09 36.00 45.20 9.20 -36.00 -139.40 $0.20 $0.90
01/16/09 125.00 5.00 0.00 -5.00 -144.40 $0.00 $0.89
01/17/09 175.00 217.20 42.20 -175.00 -319.40 $0.19 $0.80
01/18/09 62.00 84.60 22.60 -62.00 -381.40 $0.26 $0.77
01/19/09 36.00 48.20 12.20 -36.00 -417.40 $0.25 $0.76
01/20/09 20.00 385.00 2,915.45 +2,530.45 +2,113.05 $7.57 $2.01



565
save time, if my early bets, like Mr. Megan, lose. When these horses won, the day would get
interesting, as I like to say. On days where I did lose, this text was a perfect way to profitably bide my
time.

Since I knew my double-your-money ROI was unsustainable, and since $2,530.45 is not a lot
of money, I continued wagering aggressively, planning to stop once the $200.00/day salary was drawn
down. I like the 200/200 rule, because it has an answer for everything. With low money, I play
recreationally, with the bankroll justified as sheer entertainment, which means even if its lost, I got my
moneys worth. Larger bankrolls now have to be won, because one doesnt want to be betting big
without a sustainable advantage. Saving up $20,000.00 froma regular job, just to call yourself a
professional horseplayer isnt going to make you one; money follows knowledge, not the other way
around. I would have to win my way up to continue, or remain the hobbyist my results (until here) said
I was. Now, however, those results were calling me a professional, just as they wound have at
Mountaineer, had I hit the $27k+jackpot there, in 2007. My new profitability was anything but an
accident, and I knew it.

Mo skillz/mo problems applies to more than just seduction. In this case, my larger bankroll
allowed me to do something impossible with just a $20.00 bill:

The loss of $757.00 in five days will humble anyone, but it was within range of the 200/200
rule, and I still had $1,700.00+in the bankroll, which meant I could wager $200.00 a day for a few
more days, without violating the rule. I lost at Aqueduct, and thought I was overextending, but losing
$326.50 that Saturday, at Philadelphia Park, suggested it was just a bad streak, and that things would
restore themselves. After losing $40.00 on a disciplined Sunday (still double the Magic $20.00), I laid
off Monday and Tuesday, went back to writing this text, and used my standard technique for breaking a
losing streak: wait for Saturday, when the best horses would be running, and the dumbest crowd would

Date

Bank
Total
Bets
Total
Collect
Daily
Figure
2009
Figure
Daily
ROI
2009
ROI

01/01/09 6.00 14.60 8.60 -6.00 -6.00 $0.59 $0.59
01/02/09 122.30 65.00 42.70 -22.30 -28.30 $0.54 $0.56
01/03/09 100.00 278.40 605.80 +327.40 +299.10 $2.18 $1.84
01/04/09 427.40 687.70 421.20 -266.50 +32.60 $0.26 $1.02
01/05/09 161.10 150.80 114.80 -36.00 -3.40 $0.76 $1.00
01/09/09 100.00 117.20 17.20 -100.00 -103.40 $0.15 $0.92
01/12/09 36.00 45.20 9.20 -36.00 -139.40 $0.20 $0.90
01/16/09 125.00 5.00 0.00 -5.00 -144.40 $0.00 $0.89
01/17/09 175.00 217.20 42.20 -175.00 -319.40 $0.19 $0.80
01/18/09 62.00 84.60 22.60 -62.00 -381.40 $0.26 $0.77
01/19/09 36.00 48.20 12.20 -36.00 -417.40 $0.25 $0.76
01/20/09 20.00 385.00 2,915.45 +2,530.45 +2,113.05 $7.57 $2.01
01/21/09 500.00 754.20 294.20 -460.00 +1,653.05 $0.39 $1.58
01/22/09 200.00 134.70 58.60 -76.10 +1,576.95 $0.44 $1.53
01/23/09 300.00 790.00 935.60 +145.60 +1,722.55 $1.18 $1.46
01/24/09 445.60 461.00 134.50 -326.50 +1,396.05 $0.29 $1.33
01/25/09 40.00 64.90 24.90 -40.00 +1,356.05 $0.38 $1.32
01/30/09 25.00 25.00 0.00 -25.00 +1,331.05 $0.00 $1.31



566
be betting. Dumb-crowd theory is the basis for my small bankroll, and aggression with early-race wins,
since its like a weak poker table.

After this streak, the gammas would already be jumping ship, advising me not to make too
much out of one big day, but would have done so prematurely:

Now my two biggest days ever at the ADW
44
had come less than two weeks apart, with PAP,
and with fire-at-will money-management. For not losing faith after a rocky beginning to the year (save
for the winning day early), I was rewarded with the biggest winning streak of my life, and my two best
days ever at the track, which suggested that PAP had finally evolved to the point where it was as effective
in 2009, as the Beyer-method had been for me in 1986, with the key difference that I was now holding the
Red Queen, and it would be up to me to determine if PAP II, which explains the full PAP method used to
score these wins, will ever be published.

For those who wonder what PAP has to do with anything here, it was the decision not to
publish PAP II, which led to this text being moved up in the queue, and to my being able to spend
eighteen months writing it, without financial pressure, and without the need to justify such a ridiculous
effort. Prior to Le Streak, I was keeping current financially, and no longer a risk to be sued over past
debts, but afterwards, I had loads of time to kill between races (I had switched to doing PAP all morning,
since I knew Id be lasting the card), and this text a perfect way to pass that time, without being tempted
to stray financially fromPhiladelphia Park, as I had the two previous winters, both of which were also
profitable. Like I said, this streak was not an accident, even if it was a bit extreme on the upside. My

44
Advance Deposit Wagering, the term for internets OTB.

Date

Bank
Total
Bets
Total
Collect
Daily
Figure
2009
Figure
Daily
ROI
2009
ROI

01/01/09 6.00 14.60 8.60 -6.00 -6.00 $0.59 $0.59
01/02/09 122.30 65.00 42.70 -22.30 -28.30 $0.54 $0.56
01/03/09 100.00 278.40 605.80 +327.40 +299.10 $2.18 $1.84
01/04/09 427.40 687.70 421.20 -266.50 +32.60 $0.26 $1.02
01/05/09 161.10 150.80 114.80 -36.00 -3.40 $0.76 $1.00
01/09/09 100.00 117.20 17.20 -100.00 -103.40 $0.15 $0.92
01/12/09 36.00 45.20 9.20 -36.00 -139.40 $0.20 $0.90
01/16/09 125.00 5.00 0.00 -5.00 -144.40 $0.00 $0.89
01/17/09 175.00 217.20 42.20 -175.00 -319.40 $0.19 $0.80
01/18/09 62.00 84.60 22.60 -62.00 -381.40 $0.26 $0.77
01/19/09 36.00 48.20 12.20 -36.00 -417.40 $0.25 $0.76
01/20/09 20.00 385.00 2,915.45 +2,530.45 +2,113.05 $7.57 $2.01
01/21/09 500.00 754.20 294.20 -460.00 +1,653.05 $0.39 $1.58
01/22/09 200.00 134.70 58.60 -76.10 +1,576.95 $0.44 $1.53
01/23/09 300.00 790.00 935.60 +145.60 +1,722.55 $1.18 $1.46
01/24/09 445.60 461.00 134.50 -326.50 +1,396.05 $0.29 $1.33
01/25/09 40.00 64.90 24.90 -40.00 +1,356.05 $0.38 $1.32
01/30/09 25.00 25.00 0.00 -25.00 +1,331.05 $0.00 $1.31
01/31/09 200.00 416.00 2,554.60 +2,138.60 +3,469.65 $6.14 $1.74


567
$1.74 ROI for the year was definitely unsustainable, but it seemed my $1.17 from1986 had finally been
surpassed. If so, 2009 was going to be as amazing a year for me, as it was horrible for everyone else.

It was definitely time to pop open that can of Schadenfreude, and there was no better place to
do it than a stripclub. Ironically, the $3,469.65 I was up on the year would have been double, had
Risques Dear, owned by the Club Risque Stables, not beaten me in the second race on J anuary 20, 2009
(the race before Mr. Megan hit), since the p3 payoffs would have been much greater on the place horse,
who I also had. Momwould have been exceptionally proud, since I had half of a $3,980.20 p3, the type
of jackpot she used to hit. Momused to chide me for betting favorites, but that was misguided, due to my
occasionally singling a short-priced winner, and because the insiders would often bet my longshots
down way below their morning-lines. This too was a distraction day, as it was the day before the Super
Bowl. If that theory held up, the next two days would also be good, but I wanted to celebrate just a
little on the way home fromthe bank, into which I had just put my earnings.

Forty-Two-Trading-Places-(Full-Text)


568
Field Report One Hundred Twelve:
Wrongfooting Stripper Game

Indirect wrongfooting can be powerful, particularly if ones anger is truly righteous, and they
seek no payoff, other than a place to enjoy a celebratory beer:
45

DATE: 31 Jan 2009 18:02:05 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: TURD-money At The Stripclub!
NOW PLAYING: Heartless, by Kanye West
IN THE NEWS: Dow Hits Multiyear Low

Hit up a stripclub for the first time in a few years. Internet flame war on dancer
website/forumgot way out of hand, to the point where I could be targeted at any club I
go to, if they find that garbage in a search engine. Stripclubs are shit these days anyway:
almost all of them are brothels to some extent, since money has dried up, mostly due to
men figuring out that spending large amounts of money without getting laid is a shitty
seduction strategy. I'mbasically at war with the entire stripclub industry due to a few
dancers, and some idiot "protector" the dancers themselves turned against, after one
accused himof drugging and raping them. There are no new conflicts, but once crap hits
the internet it does not leave. The idiot moderator of the stripper forumhas some
bullshit "warning" post about me, claiming I'munemployed, still living with Mom(she
died in J uly 2007), ammentally ill, and should be reported to everyone frommy
employers, to law enforcement, to the media, to city mental health agencies. Typical
internet harassment designed to spill over into my real life. The dancers think I'ma
crazy, unemployed loser, with nothing to offer, so they join in the abuse. Very revealing
about their attitudes and character, and good to know how phony they are to the guys
with money, not that those guys care.

Given all this, it was ironic that I won $2,100.00+today, on top of the $2,500.00+I won
a week ago Tuesday. I would have won about $11,000.00+that day, except my longshot
lost to a lower payoff. Get this: the horse I lost to was named Risque's Dear, owned by
the Club Risque Stable. Club Risque is a stripclub! Bet they'd love the PAP sheets, but
then they'd search my name, find all those lies, and I'd be trying to justify myself to
idiots who believe lies about me, yet who wanted money they thought I didn't have.
Risque is in the suburbs, but I would have loved to pop in there tonight, or tomorrow,
spending about $500.00 in "TURD-money" (read the free my new book for an
explanation of that concept). Instead, I hit up a club nearby, getting there just before
they start charging covers, a nice savings.

45
After a big win, Mom and I would partake in the celebratory Chinese-food dinner, from the now-closed Hong
Kong Caf, at 39
th
and Sansom, with their unmatchable Peking Fillet Steak, and other premium offerings, with
superior cuts of meat to the takeout junk common to college areas.


569
Club is DEAD. Three dancers in the whole club, plus an NHBBartender, who was
finishing her shift, replaced by SHBStripclub (9.7), a bartender who could easily have
been a dancer, and the hottest target in the place by far. This new book has been
ramping up my game, and I'mat the point where I won't be making any mistakes.
Unfortunately, the internet conflict precluded any extended game, as this was a one-shot
visit to blow off some steamand correct a few lies.

This NHBDancer (6.8) approaches me, hits me up for a dance. I tip her $1.00 to be
polite, then ask her why I should patronize an industry whose members harass me
online, who "harassed my dying mother," and who work for clubs who say they cannot
control what dancers do on their own time, even when invading customer privacy or
making it dangerous for me to hit up the clubs. I then tell NHBDancer that these internet
postings say I'man unemployed loser, still living with my dead mother, and note that
"the tooth fairy ain't paying my bills." Finally, I pull out the $500.00 or so left over after
I put my $1,500.00 in earnings (not "winnings") into the bank, after cashing out at the
Turf Club froman impressed HBTeller (8.4). I say "unemployment never paid so well,"
reminded her I could make her night a high-earning one, but did not see the need to give
money to dancers, as long as they allowed me to be harassed over the internet. Seems
that these dancers and the clubs are not as rude to my face as they would be online.
They just couldn't refute what I was saying, nor could they answer how they could
protect my privacy if their dancers could do whatever they wanted at home. I then told
SHBStripclub that I would probably have spent $1,000.00 or so in there that weekend,
were it not for the internet postings, and that in my new book, I would be advising men
to avoid the industry altogether. She blamed the HBO special ten years ago for
"demystifying" the industry, and said it was dying anyone, that my story was one of
many things that had gone wrong. That was about the best she could do, and she was an
SHB, so I moved on to conversation about my new book, working title "Love Conquers
Nothing." A long conversation ensues:

HER: "Have you seen a show called The Pickup Artist?"

ME: "Wow, I love it when women do that, asking me about something
I tried to warn themabout ten years ago. I was in this club
talking about that 'community' and they looked at me like I was
nuts. Now they're asking me if I know about the show and
Mystery. Got a new book coming out because everyone now
knows what I do thanks to that show. Market is huge. It's nice to
have money again!"

No need to tell her I won this money, but that story would have been just as impressive.

HER: "I can't believe the way that guy dresses! Do women really want
him?"

ME: "Apparently. He's the ideal man! It says so on TV, so it must be
true! It's obvious women like guys like that, more than they like
the nice guys he teaches, the ones they claimto want."


570

HER: "My boyfriend is a nice guy!"

ME: "You're fucking him. He has to be. Problemis, you can date one
guy at a time, and the rest of us have to deal with the other
women. Besides, just because one guy hits the lottery, that
doesn't make lottery tickets a good investment. We advise men
not to waste time as friends."

HER: "Then he wouldn't have gotten me. We were friends for six years
before we were a couple."

ME: "If he was such a great guy, why did he have to wait six years?"

I bailed out shortly thereafter, my primary mission accomplished. The NHBDancer
actually cried after I didn't tip her, and taunted her by saying "I could make your night
just by opening my wallet," but was consoled by a senior-citizen with a lot of TURD-
money, who smelled weakness, and fed her over $100.00 to cheer her up. He then tried
to befriend me, in what I consider the lamest behavior of all, and said something to me.
I replied instantly: "of all the reasons I go to stripclubs, talking to other men is not on the
list." Then I froze them out.

Ray


Not much any stripper (or bartender) can say to any of this, but they arent the type to buy too
much into a wrongfooting frame, so she took the beta path of apathy, since playing dumb would have
revealed her as gamma. When it came to VH-1s The Pickup Artist, she was gamma, since Big Media
was the only reason she had bothered to pay attention to what had been online for almost a decade.
Pulling out $500.00 in spare cash, while saying unemployment never paid so well, was refreshing;
indeed, much of my horseplaying approach is designed to yield stripper money when I win, another
reason my profitable days were so huge. Because the Spitzer must be extra money, and not squirreled
away at the expense of ones time, like with Sodini, jackpot wins are almost a lifestyle game essential,
and I now had two under my belt, in less than two weeks.

Unfortunately, with racing every day, and a large bankroll, I had time for only one glass of
Schadenfreude, and exited the club in time to miss a $370.00+win at Penn National, due to a PhoneBet
software malfunction that shut me out of a five-horse trifecta key (a $20.00 bet) that won. This could
easily have resulted in a tilt, but I put it out of my mind, much as an NFL quarterback will put an unjust,
fifteen-yard penalty out of his mind, and continue marching his teamforward. It was niceto suddenly be
winning the lifestyle game, and to have had enough TURD-money to commandeer the bachelor-party
room(a separate club) for three hours ($900.00, including open bar, free buffet, plus dancer tips), had I
so chosen, which works out to less than the VIP roomfor the same period of time, even with a $300.00
dancer tip. I had become a lifestyle PUA, literally overnight.



571

So much of my past had been exorcised during this streak, that I finally felt like I hadnt been
wasting the past twenty-three years. Thirty-eight hundred dollars (including what I was down on the
year going into the streak) is a lot of money to win in the space of two weeks, especially when its pure
TURD-money, as this was. With my employment and housing stable, unlike 1986, or even 1991 (the
CPA firmwas my sole meal ticket), this money was much easier to enjoy, even though I found myself
lacking in time to do so, for both my horseplaying, and this text, had suddenly become a job: not in the
career sense, but a workplace, at which I was putting in more than double the hours of a regular
workweek. To top it off, I now even had a paycheck, plus a pile of money to manage, and projects to
prioritize, which means, very ironically, that I had finally found stable employment, at home, doing what
I had always thought defined me as a slacker. Suddenly, it was my bread-and-butter, in an era where
everyones bread, perhaps even Kates (she was trolling the internet for work) was drying up.

When it came to seduction, my Emo game was strong enough to discount the lifestyle game
for which I could suddenly afford to pay full price. For men my age, the question isnt whether or not he
can talk a target into bed, but how many Spitzers he has, and can accumulate. By that measure, I had
won, since I had enough of them to fuck even a porn star (discounted to $900.00 a night in the
recession), several times over. Calling a whore a girlfriend doesnt change anything but the label one
places on the transaction.

http://www.toosmarttofail.com/forums/showthread.php?11167-Field-Report-One-Hundred-
Twelve-Wrongfooting-Stripper-Game-(Full-Text)



572
Lesson Forty-Three:
Trading Places II

Le Streak was a nice recovery fromthe tilt, but my figure was still short the $CCCLXX.00+
on Super Bowl eve, even if I appeared to have won it back while the nation was transfixed on whoever
won Super Bowl XLIII (I was too busy being OTL-positive to notice). This sent my YTD profit back
near four dimes, and I elected to go for it on Monday, by leaving the entire $709.00 balance in, all of
which I would wager (normally I pull the money, to prevent going over my stop-loss).

The betting log doesnt tell the full story:

I was down $650.00 on the day, when 29-1 shot Truer Than True nailed half of an $8,773.80
p3 for me, although I was live with seven horses in the final leg, meaning the only question was how
much I would win, rather than whether. I did note that the p3 would have paid 50 percent higher
($13,000.00+) without my dollar splashing the betting pool, something that doesnt happen so easily in
the six-figure NYRA pools. This streak would prove to be my high-water mark, and netted one more
interesting achievement: for a brief, brief time, my YTD figure had surpassed the Dow Jones Industrial
Average, which had hit an intraday low of 7,500+. This was around the time of Rick Santellis famous
tea party rant about bailing out loser mortgages, which has sparked a bit of a revolution since. This
time, the bottomline was that, between my winning streak, and regular income, for the first time in my
life, I was sitting on $10,000.00+in pure TURD-money, save for the teenage inheritance Momhad
diverted to my bills.

Date

Bank
Total
Bets
Total
Collect
Daily
Figure
2009
Figure
Daily
ROI
2009
ROI

01/01/09 6.00 14.60 8.60 -6.00 -6.00 $0.59 $0.59
01/02/09 122.30 65.00 42.70 -22.30 -28.30 $0.54 $0.56
01/03/09 100.00 278.40 605.80 +327.40 +299.10 $2.18 $1.84
01/04/09 427.40 687.70 421.20 -266.50 +32.60 $0.26 $1.02
01/05/09 161.10 150.80 114.80 -36.00 -3.40 $0.76 $1.00
01/09/09 100.00 117.20 17.20 -100.00 -103.40 $0.15 $0.92
01/12/09 36.00 45.20 9.20 -36.00 -139.40 $0.20 $0.90
01/16/09 125.00 5.00 0.00 -5.00 -144.40 $0.00 $0.89
01/17/09 175.00 217.20 42.20 -175.00 -319.40 $0.19 $0.80
01/18/09 62.00 84.60 22.60 -62.00 -381.40 $0.26 $0.77
01/19/09 36.00 48.20 12.20 -36.00 -417.40 $0.25 $0.76
01/20/09 20.00 385.00 2,915.45 +2,530.45 +2,113.05 $7.57 $2.01
01/21/09 500.00 754.20 294.20 -460.00 +1,653.05 $0.39 $1.58
01/22/09 200.00 134.70 58.60 -76.10 +1,576.95 $0.44 $1.53
01/23/09 300.00 790.00 935.60 +145.60 +1,722.55 $1.18 $1.46
01/24/09 445.60 461.00 134.50 -326.50 +1,396.05 $0.29 $1.33
01/25/09 40.00 64.90 24.90 -40.00 +1,356.05 $0.38 $1.32
01/30/09 25.00 25.00 0.00 -25.00 +1,331.05 $0.00 $1.31
01/31/09 200.00 416.00 2,554.60 +2,138.60 +3,469.65 $6.14 $1.74
02/01/09 338.00 774.70 1,145.40 +370.70 +3,840.35 $1.48 $1.70
02/02/09 709.00 970.00 4,834.90 +3864.90 +7,705.25 $4.98 $2.19



573

Winning The Battle Of Kate III

Technically, The Battle of Kate III is now over, and I won, due to the Gamblers Anonymous
question that determines, with certainty, that one is a compulsive gambler:

Have you ever had a bailout?

Kate herself may not have been bailed out, but those who pay her were, as were those who pay
them. Her apartment was prevented fromfree-falling in value, by the government propping up the
housing market, and, without the bailout, Manhattan would have fallen in the shitter, with everyone going
broke, and Kate learning more about the island on which I grew up, rather than the gentrifying, yuppie
paradise into which she moved, and in which she has felt smugly superior to me for all this time, while
living it up among the equally pretentious (these are not insults per se, as this is something I loved about
her). Even the name of the horse who won me the money Truer Than True symbolizes the bird I had
just flipped at the system, and all the gammas who bought-and-held the AFC lifestyle, of slaving
away for corporate criminals, buying love, and ignoring corruption. Now the corrupt were finishing
behind me, losing their jobs, and turning to the government to replace their lost chips. Game. Fucking.
OVER.

As it was, my TURD-money gave me several options to move back to Manhattan, at a rent of
$740.00 a month for a one-bedroomsublet in a doorman building, in one case. Had I been willing to take
a roommate, I could have paid as low as $350.00 a month to live in Greenwich Village, near SHBDancer,
or in the Fashion District, on Kates very block. I could have finished this text froma trendy apartment,
spent all day in coffeehouses running lifestyle game, and using the author gimmick, and confidence, to
exploit emotional stereotyping, to create an author persona, of a writer who was finishing up a
manuscript, had a book deal, and was excited about its release, all of which would have been truer than
true. For all I knew, Kate was leveraged, and now broke, but I figured she wasnt, and even if she was,
shes too talented to ever not have work. Kate was never extravagant, despite her expensive tastes. I
cannot say I root for or against her economically, due to the lifestyle battle, and because, if she is
hurting financially, that would validate what I was offering her in 1985. The past twenty years have been
excellent for her, but that was a given, due to her being super-elite; the next twenty are no longer certain.

Yet another can of Schadenfreude was popped when I would see StripperWeb postings from
dancers whose money had dried up, sometimes to the point where they became the same unemployed,
homeless types they had mistakenly labeled me, or allowed others to, while standing down. Companies
that wouldnt hire me as a secretary were begging for bailout money, while others were laying off loads
of workers, or just shutting down. My last man standing business model had finally kicked into
overdrive, but our newly socialist nation had destroyed the value of my cash, by not allowing
depressionary deflation, and the firesale prices on which I was counting, to materialize.

The bailout whacked the purchasing power of my $10,000.00+down to $10,000.00, when,
absent the bailout, it would have yielded ten times that, due to the market forces finally catching up to the
corporate TURDs, whose companies I could also have taken over and run. Instead, President Crackhead
chose to keep the wealthy wealthy, even when they didnt deserve this, and the gammas finally got mad,
because they were getting fucked over as well. Boom-boom rooms, and refusals to hire male secretaries
didnt matter to the gammas, but losing their 401(k)s because of men who then used tax dollars to pay


574
themselves millions in bonuses, finally did. Not only do I tell these people I told you so, but I pop open
another can of Schadenfreude while doing it, especially when I realized that, in the end, the bailouts are
good for the economy, as they put more money into it, and that money will eventually find its way to
those who are too smart to fail, even if it must first make a pitstop in the pockets of those least deserving.
The same gammas who complain about corruption on Wall Street and in Washington, are the ones who
do everything possible to keep people like me out of power. I can assure the reader that the average ROI
on Wall Street in early 2009 wasnt $2.19 for every $1.00 invested.

While I dont agree with Mystery that all relationships have a beginning, a middle, and an end
(no need to ever dump an AOCS), all winning streaks definitely do, and this one ended a few weeks later,
after the $200.00/$200.00 rule dried up my salary. It was a great run, and I wound up around
$4,500.00+to the good for the year, according to my PhoneBet statement, but returned to recreational
play at around +$5,000.00, with one or two resurgences that brought me near the YTD peak, before I
finally crashed, to an ROI of $1.26 for the year, still my best ever, and very congruent with the streak, the
new best-days-ever, and the profit. Nothing went wrong: I just didnt have time to sacrifice this text, for
something so uncertain, so I elected to live off the winnings, wait out the recession until freelance work
picked back up (it has), and return to PAP, forever, the moment this more-tedious-than-expected labor of
love was finished, and generating revenue that could then be deployed in betting.

The streak you just read about is what enabled me to devote proper attention to this text, rather
than just rushing out an incomplete work last March, as I would have wound up doing, had
commercialismbeen my main concern; as a fourteen-percenter, it was not. Even a fourteen-percenter
needs to eat, however, and a decent book at a decent price was justifiable. Now, however, I had the
time, money, and a recession kill, all of which enabled the year-long alpha isolation, which has proven
ideal for writing. The revenue generated in subsequent years will determine my income for 2009, but I
treat that as an annuity. Anytime my racetrack ROI is $1.26, it becomes too costly not to wager, unless a
project like this text is the alternative. If this text grosses $25,000.00+, itll be deemed worth the effort
(economically), although Id love to see it make a lot more. The text had to be finished, because leaving
it on the table was too much of a distraction to my betting, and because of simple economics. Either:

1. My ROI is still $1.26, in which case I will resume winning, upon my return to
betting; or

2. The streak was a one-time fluke, and I would have lost back the money, had I not
diverted it to an advance for writing this text (my next advance will have to be
$150,000.00+).

As a general rule, it pays to finish any text that will sell, because it will generate revenue for
work already completed, the way my previous works have. Most professional writers crank out dozens,
or hundreds, of works, each of which generates a modest income, but which, collectively, can add up to
some impressive royalty checks. I use a more straightforward analysis, dividing the revenue by the time
it took to write the text, because it costs me nothing beyond labor to bring a work to market, thanks to the
family business, which used to service writers with Big-Media book deals and magazine columns.



575
Big Media And The Financial Crisis

Watching Big Media do a 180 on its past advice has been amusing. Between the Madoff
scandal, the Great Recession, and everything going wrong for so many people, at the same time, it is no
longer fashionable to imply that those who lack jobs, their own place to live, or anything else material is
somehow the loser no one had a problemcalling me, even when the winners were cheating (now
theyre just bailed-out). Those who dared call me unemployable now ask people like me for jobs, while
those who bragged about their lifestyle, now finding themselves being coddled by their television sets
(cant afford to go out), and told to enjoy their staycation, and not to worry about living with parents at
age thirty-five. As my 1986 lifestyle has become everyones 2009 version, I had a twenty-three year
head start on partial luxury.

As has been the case since 1986, my future will be determined by a combination of factors,
including my volume of freelance work, internet revenue, and my betting ROI, and I wouldnt have it any
other way. It would have been nice to have spent the last twenty-three years sheltered in some executive
office, like the OTL, or SHBDye, and to have accumulated a six- or even seven-figure nest-egg, as either
may have done (the OTL is amazingly solid financially, something I amunsure of for the other three
Aces). It would have been nice to live in a midtown-Manhattan apartment, earn $75,000.00+a year
running the third-shift word-processing center of a law firm(the job for which I was easily best qualified),
and it would have been really nice to have been able to run game in Manhattan for my entire adult life,
but I cant say things turned out much differently, or worse, beyond material considerations, and Im
definitely glad I didnt miss out on what I learned by living this way.

Pharmaceutical-grade women are just that: recreation, and I managed enough of them down
here to feel content. The injustice bothers me a bit, but if the rest of the world wont work to fix it, my
efforts are wasted. I can say that, had I lived such a simple, yet profitable existence, my Emo game would
be shit, and the cost of having to run lifestyle game would have resulted in inferior targets, easily
offsetting the gains fromproper employment and living in Manhattan, a place that was never more than
a few hours away, if I really had a reason to be there.

To measure your lifestyle game, just total up your Spitzers, and weigh your options. It is
Emo game that defines the PUA, even if the Foxhunter works on everything that might get himlaid by
those pharmaceutical-grade women, particularly if private relaxation sessions are involved. When your
Emo game is strong, a $10,000.00+burst of TURD-money will prove far more decisive, than if you are
just another Sodini-type, running up the score on his nest-egg, at the expense of everything else. To this
extent, Mystery enjoyed a similar boost to his game when he got rich and famous, because he had
sharpened his teeth in bars, and in clubs, often when he had no money, and was not living alone, thus
forcing him to make his targets want to fuck him, and to put the burden on them to overcome any
logistical problems, something Ive done many times before, most notably on my own roof, before the
Fire Department AMOGed me.

I have noted Kates new career as a writer, one at which she is getting very, very good (no
surprise there), and that she was trolling for freelance work, which indicates she might have been in need
of cash, though I suspect shes just preventing any problems before they occur. In a depressionary,
deflationary economy, I wondered, for a moment, how she might have reacted to an offer of $5,000.00 to
put her picture (fromher early twenties) on the cover of this text. The picture captures her beauty in its
entirety (no shock there), and is quite stunning, particularly her absolutely perfect facial features. That I


576
didnt do this, or that she wouldnt have done this, is the readers loss, because even a picture would
demonstrate, very clearly, exactly why I fell so deeply in love with her. She really was the most beautiful
woman I have ever seen in my life, bar none. She might not be the readers type per se, but anyone
who would rate her prime at less than Nine Point Zero should have their eyes checked.

Documented By The Internal Revenue Service

Most scamdicappers like to claimridiculous records, or trends, like 17-2 in their last
nineteen selections, that are monitored by the Shill Monitoring Service, which, of course, they also
own. One of the authorized advertisers at PaceAdvantage (a popular horse-racing website) claimed to
have won $300,000.00 in the previous year, but did not produce any IRS proof, with my question
getting me banned for troublemaking. With all these W-2Gs flying in, it occurred to me that I had a
great marketing tool for PAP, because, as the title says, I amnow, and forever, documented by the
Internal Revenue Service. Think of it as if a PUA had filmed his lay reports with a pharmaceutical-
grade woman. Call this a pay report, verified by my wings at the IRS, or what Momused to call
ERRRRZZZZ:

January 20, 2009 (1 of 8)



577

January 20, 2009 (1 of 8)

January 20, 2009 (2 of 8)



578

January 31, 2009 (3 of 8)

February 2, 2009 (4 of 8)

The reader should note that jackpots #3 and #4, totaling $6,327.00, came all of two
days apart. The remainder would come over the next few weeks, but were offset by losses:



579

February 7, 2008 (5 of 8)

The remaining three wins would prove the distraction day theory yet again, this time
on Valentines Day:

February 14, 2009 (6 of 8)



580

February 14, 2009 (#7 of 8)

February 15, 2009 (8 of 8)

For a proper perspective on what the streak, or my ongoing ROI of $1.26, means, ask
an expert horseplayer, if you know how to determine who knows what theyre talking about and
who does not. Many of my internet flamers would quote each other, by saying things like:

Ray has a long-history of running scams on the internet, including horse
racing.

Yeah, let them pick your horses for you. You wouldnt want to be caught paying me
for advice! Besides, if I were capable of picking winners, I wouldnt be selling selections, but
instead would be betting them my..oops. Hell, even a gamma knows this to be truer than


581
true.. The reader should also consider that, on three separate occasions, I won one or multiple
Spitzers, in less time than it would take to read this text, so one truly never knows where a
Deuce-of-Spades like me will wind up, as has been the case for my entire adult life. This was
not my only income in 2009, but it was nice to earn enough money to survive the full year, in
just over the first month. When the economy finally emerged from its coma, it was August,
2009. Even the few grand I lost back was tax-deductible against my winnings, thus causing the
difference between year-end and peak figures to function as an interest-free loan. My higher
hourly rate, better lifestyle integration, and more mature internet distribution, all combined to
make this win the sweetest, because it was the first time I was not compensating for lost income
elsewhere, and could truly enjoy it.

To all the Broke Men Walking, who saw their 401(k)s completely wiped out, or close,
all I can say, while popping open another can of Schadenfreude, is now you know what its like
to have a bad day at the track, and thats from a gambler who has never had a bailout, and who
knows how to limit his losses, without eliminating the upside. Every jackpot here was collected
from a $1.00 bet, not two, and paid over 600-1.

Lesson-Forty-Three-Trading-Places-II-(Full-Text)


582
Field Report One-Hundred Thirteen:
Twenty-One Bus Salute

Signs of emergence frommy most recent alpha isolation have already begun appearing:

GROUPS: None
DATE: 05 Dec 2009 :02:05 GMT
FROM: Ray
SUBJ ECT: FR++: TURD-money At The Stripclub!
NOW PLAYING: Heartless, by Kanye West
IN THE NEWS: Dow Hits Multiyear Low

Broke a long isolation today with a LIVELY conversation on the 21 bus with
NHBManhattan (7.3), a very polished, attractive, early-twenties visitor fromher titular
hometown. Shes fromthe upper-west side. I used a new opener:

ME: Imnot contagious. No swine flu here! (I coughed)

HER: Thats good! Does this bus go to 40
th
?

ME: Yeah.

HER: This is my first time on a bus.

ME: Ever?

HER: No. In Philadelphia.

ME: You fromManhattan?

HER: Yeah.

ME: I could tell. Youre too POLISHED for Philadelphia. (she was!)

HER: Thank you.

I run OVER THE HILL GAME, not even trying to hit on her, just aiming for an
interesting conversation, for which she said thank you as she left.

Not trying for a miracle, just warming up the muscles for my return. Won $150.00 on a
REALLY shitty card at Philadelphia Park, and had gone to center city to get my
winnings, in really shitty weather.

Ray



583
p.s. hypnotized the SHIT out of an SHB over the phone, for SIX HOURS, just to
test my technique. She dropped like a fucking BOULDER.


Signs of a middle-aged quantum leap are imminent. Perhaps Volume III will have to
be written one day, to cover the final chapter. Like you, the reader yes, you, the one who
paid me to write all this shit I confront a new world going forward, one with new rules, new
PUA economics, and new challenges, brought on by new technology. I cannot tell you what to
do in 2010 and beyond, anymore than I know what I will do myself. I can, however, show what
I did from 1980 through the present, and leave it to the reader to apply or modernize the lessons,
as needed, like whether or not to surf the internet during your Battle of Kate, or what to do if
your OTL gives you a drunk IM or text message, instead of a drunk booty call. The EL-II is
timeless, as are most of the L-III gimmicks, but the internet has globalized the sexual
marketplace, and this definitely favors the higher CUPID rating.


My own new game is simple: find the AOCS, and then pray she wants me. Absent
that, just run my game, as I have for thirty years, this time with a stronger lifestyle, and a much
better understanding of just what it is Ive been doing all this time, and why. Ramping up my
socializing wouldnt hurt, although taking care of business does not require that much effort, as
it shouldnt, after all the fucking time Ive put into this.

Hundred-Thirteen-Twenty-One-Bus-Salute-(Full-Text)


584
Lesson Forty-Four:
My Standard Racetrack (First) Date

For any pharmaceutical-grade women interested in dating me, and have made it to an
actual first date, I include this lesson on how the date is structured, and what should be done in
preparation. This is the standard racetrack date, and the first one can take place online,
preferably over Skype. We can converse on Skype, and watch the races on cable. To do this,
my date will need the following:

1. A betting account, preferably with TwinSpires, or any outfit that allows
deposits by GreenDot MoneyPak. You must be over eighteen to have this,
which covers the age check.

2. Access to video of races at Philadelphia Park, or whichever tracks are
running. TwinSpires offers this. Their website is
http://www.twinspires.com. If you let me refer you, I can even get a free
referral bonus, and you might get free betting money.

3. Lunch will be provided, and paid for over the internet, with price limitations
determined by my mood at the time of the date, but not less than $15.00 for
your meal.

4. You will be expected to have a basic understanding of horseplaying, to the
extent that you are capable of rooting for one or more horses, and a specific
order of finish. Familiarity with the PAP sheet format is strongly
recommended, and free sheets can be found on the official PAP website,
which is linked from the page headers of this text.

5. A bankroll of $20.00 will be deposited into your TwinSpires account
(which also verifies your age), and will be wagered aggressively. If we
lose, we quit. If we win, any money left at the end of the day is yours to
keep, since Ill be betting in my own account as well. Be warned, however,
that I am a jackpot player, and lose money on 90+percent of my days
betting, but the wins more than make up for it (see the previous betting logs
for more info).



585
Thats free lunch, $20.00 in betting money, and free selections from a horseplayer
with a $1.26 ROI, without having to leave home, and without having to cough up a goodbye kiss,
like SHBLunch. For male readers who would like to know my new game, this is it. I also do
live versions of the date in Philadelphia, and had one scheduled with HBChina, except I was
going to cook ribs at her place and hypnotize the shit out of her, until the rooftop disaster, and
the move to Georgia broke the spell.

This date works well, aside from its lifestyle strength, because it also gives my date a
chance to see what I do, and for that all-important shared experience which defines a date.
When rejected, as I was by SHBAmtrak, I redouble my efforts to win, so I can truly say it was
her loss. Knowing that rejecting me cost SHBAmtrak half of the $575.00 bounty was sweet. On
my end, the date is an absolute bargain for L-II isolation with a pharmaceutical-grade woman.

Lesson-Forty-Four-My-Standard-Racetrack-(First)-Date-(Full-Text)


586
Mini-Bootcamp:
Advice For The Reader

Guru economics are such that individual advice is the best way to help the reader tailor
this text to his own game. In the spirit of commercialism, Ill give a presentation as if I were
visiting a LAIR, trolling for bootcamp-whales. Those who want in-depth instruction, and click
the coaching link conveniently located at the top of every page, in the left-hand column, just
underneath the title copyright notice, for more information.

Now for the mini-bootcamp:

1. Develop your L-III gimmicks. The earlier you do this, the better. Had I
done this prior to the VCABM, I would have fucked the OTL, and probably
most of the other live targets. Gimmicks like hypnosis can now be
deployed online, via internet-video, but this puts one in the public eye.
Formal training is strongly recommended, lest you be perceived as a creepy
and perverted amateur.

2. Aim high. Play for the jackpot, so winning will be worth the risk. With
that said

3. Take sex off the table. The ideal frame with any super-elite, until specific
intel on a specific target proves otherwise, is that a) all men are sex-addicts,
which is why b) youre insanely attracted to her, but you also c) know better
than to let your sex-addiction ruin the friendship and will d) seek sex
from other targets, which means e) she has to pretend to be happy about
this, despite f) not being able to exploit you, which g) will drive her insane,
and lead to her h) wanting to fuck you. The Year of Celibacy routine is
excellent, because a) none of your targets failed relationships will measure
up, b) shell look slutty by comparison, c) become a challenge fox, and d)
she wasnt going to fuck you anyway! (if she was, dont let theory get in
the way of the lay!). Using the card-CATs line I love your type is also
solid, because it boosts her ego, without her being able to tap your
resources, until you tap her, of course.

4. Accumulate sure-things and empty-netters. This will be good for learning
to tell when you have the lay with superior targets, though youll run the
risk of settling for NHBSkates, NHBMall, NHBDorm, NHBGroupie or
NHBWhoever...

5. Keep a phantom girlfriend! This will usually be a nice NHB that doesnt
repulse you sexually, but to whom you arent so attracted you lose your
cool. A good PG will make you one step quicker, because youll be on


587
the phone with her, when your super-elites expect you to be bothering
them. PG-3 literally saved my life with Kate, by letting months pass where
I had truly kept her out of my mind, even though my feelings had not
changed.

6. Never send roses to dancers in Manhattan. Or any other target you
havent fucked. It wont work. Try it once or twice on targets you dont
care about just to prove it, then show them this text to prove you were really
just trying to prove it.

7. Run the intentional VCABM. Get your basics down, particularly dating.
SHBLunch made the difference between my being a good date, and a lousy
date. Also consider gaming your designated-soulmates a bit more than I
did, particularly if its working! The more I look at that pic of Kate, not
fucking her even that one time was a loss. She was just so beautiful.

8. Aim for EL-IIs with super-elites. If they want to fuck you, they will not
punish you, plus they tend to crave the EL-II, due to the inability of other
men not to attempt an L-III escalation, as McCools demonstrated so
convincingly.

9. Remain feral. Unless you can afford your OTL, marry your Kate,
wind up in the same city as your SHBDancer, or somehow manage to win
the heart of an AOC(S), ferality is infinitely preferable to cashing out, even
in middle-age. Even a great relationship will ruin a man, so it better be
worth it. My opinion of this has not changed since 1985.

10. Run reluctant-PUA routines. SHBJulliard strongly indicated that
reluctant-PUA, and other challenge fox techniques, would have worked on
the OTL, who seemed to need only one final nudge into L-III, in her pre-
Diamond days. Post-VCABM is, by definition, a reluctant-PUA tactic, so
once you go feral, youll be running it no matter what.

11. Find your alpha gimmicks. The strong lifestyle boosts offered by PAP and
PowerBase demonstrate the economic impact of spending your free time
in profitable, productive endeavors. Had I just gone out drinking and spent
my money instead, I would have had to work more hours, and would have
had no free time for what would yield windfalls in 1986, 1991, 1993-1996,
2000, 2005, and again in 2009, in addition to netting me the UPenn job in
1992, and the Anderson gig in 1993. Even the hypnosis gimmick converted
to alpha status when the Hellen mp3 recordings pulled in a quick
$15,000.00.



588
12. Use the card-CAT!! The card-CAT is an excellent target-calibration tool,
for those who dont just hone in on the Aces of Clubs (the smart thing to
do). When you need sex, turn to the Ten-of-Clubs, or higher, if your
skillz permit success. Also, make sure to

13. Never fuck with a Club. Or any other suit that hasnt started playing
games with you. There are female fourteen-percenters as well.

14. Practice financial, social, and alpha isolation. Most people are gammas,
and are toxic to fourteen-percenters (alphas profit from them). Violations
of the clueless-or-gay rule lead to being gamed by metrosexuals, or just
remaining clueless about seducing super-elites. Dont use other men as a
crutch! Thats what PGs are for. Membership in the YMCA LAIR is not
productive. Financial isolation is just plain good PUA economics, while
alpha isolation will ensure that you are still acquiring skillz or upgrading
your lifestyle, during those periods with no live targets, or during interim
improvement, in preparation for another quantum leap.

15. PUA Economics. Unless you are LimoDude, every cent counts, since its
all TURD-money until you can cover your infrastructure costs without
touching the principal.

16. Stop overestimating your targets and rivals. Just imagine them worried
about your reaction to their normal behavior, and you should see the fallacy
of worrying about theirs. The returning fox technique is great for this,
because rejection is essential to the strategy!

17. Avoid risk whenever possible. With the OTL and Kate, this was not
possible. With SHBDancer, it was not necessary, and with Le Club, there
was no risk to avoid. With all other targets, you can pretty much get
whatever you want, without risk, if you work at it, but calculated risks will
offer excellent shortcuts.

18. Never date women who work after 6:00 p.m. If you do, just presume they
are strippers, prostitutes, or fucking their boss, and youll be right more
often than youd ever believe. At best, they will be hired-guns, which will
pit you against a nearly-infinite rival-class.

19. Never, NEVER let theory get in the way of a lay. Sometimes in the
community, Ive seen men who seem more determined to validate their
guru, or purchase a bootcamp, than to get laid. While there are none so
blind as those paid not to see, the rest of us should keep our priorities in
order, even when what we see in front of us, contradicts what we think must


589
work, because some internet stranger said it would. If you find yourself
working harder to save money for a bootcamp, than to get laid, somethings
wrong.

20. Defeat me! My weaknesses are numerous. If you see flaws in my game
that I have overlooked, design your method to exploit them, and evolve the
theory. It helps to become familiar with what you are defeating at first, as I
did with Fischers opening repertoire, but, over time, you will see things no
one else does, and that will become your Red Queen, whose distribution
only you will control, and you wont have to worry about game over, much
like PAP is immune to what Beyer did to me via his deal with the DRF in
1992. Im retired now, running lifestyle game, with Spitzers as my primary
wingmen. Im no longer the guy on the field scoring the touchdowns, but
the retired player up in the booth, making fun of the guys on the field. I
really dont envy the younger mens combination of Emo intensity,
confusion, and target-difficulty, but I do wish I could still pull the way I did
in my prime.

Holy shit! I didnt realize how long this presentation was taking. Got a Limo waiting,
with some pivots, and were gonna roll into this VIP lounge, so bye! Dont forget to visit my
website if you want more info!!

Mini-Bootcamp-Advice-For-The-Reader-(Full-Text)


590
Sorry, Matt Damon:
We Ran Out Of Time

Matt Damons anti-Yankee rants are a good example of an alpha playing up to the
gammas by pretending both are beta (except for the flow of money). With that out of the
way, I really have run out of time, at least according to my business model, since its now
January, 2010, and Philadelphia Park is at its most profitable time of year for me. Ive neglected
PAP terribly, and missed another season of PowerBase (the ratings and selections can drive
traffic that purchases this text). It really is time to get back to exploiting my $1.26 ROI. Id like
to say its been fun writing this, but Ive never invested so much labor into a single text, so only
my future revenue (and any lays scored by the guru gimmick) will tell.

As a fourteen-percenter, about my only edge over the alpha gurus is that I never
became dependent on student-funded game, which allowed me to remain a pure PUA,
similarly situated to the reader, in that my game has never relied on status, wealth, or even the
guru gimmick, though the last has helped a great deal. What I teach and preach requires much
more than intelligence, decent formal education, and the willingness to mindbuild, accumulating
Kate-positive, OTL-positive, and SHB-positive habits, with time that would otherwise be wasted
chasing RHCs in L-I venues. Another man in my shoes would not have had PowerBase
doubling his income, like it did mine in Georgia, because he would not have spent the years I did
coding the program. Instead, he might have remained gamma, taken a shit job in a male-
dominated line of work, wasted his free time while enriching the A-list, and effectively self-
selected out of the gene pool.

If I ever do truly live coaching (most of it will be done online), it will probably be in
racetrack settings, like dining rooms, with small audiences, perhaps on big racing days, so my
students can see me running an alpha gimmick. Amusingly, the same betas who presume to
know which gurus can advise them in seduction, and who might reject my advice because it
conflicts with their preconceived notion, would be likely to treat PAP as gospel, because they
have no basis for comparison, while a veteran horseplayer might question PAP, yet accept what
is written here, equally uncritically, again because his ego is not invested.

The Last Word

I may have said this earlier, but if so, its worth repeating:

If I had known how things would turn out with women going in, Id have taken
better notes.

My personal thanks to SHBSchool, and all who would come after her, for making this
profitable text possible. My goal has been to create a text which Kate would find uniquely
fashionable, which the OTL would envy for its revenue, which would melt the heart of
SHBDancer, and which would cause Le Club to snicker, yet take pride in being classified as the


591
ultimate female. Id also like to be able to say that this project is dear to my heart, but its not.
Its on the internet, for sale, like many of my other works, and the only thing in my brain as I
write this, is getting back to handicapping Philadelphia Parks next card, and seeing how quickly
I can finally win that mega-jackpot, or roll up six-figures in TURD-money, because I can use the
Spitzers more than ever now. For a PUA, middle-age sucks, but for a horseplayer, its the
prime of his life.

The world of wrongfooting, trainwrecking gammas is cluttered with a lot to avoid, but
the fourteen-percenters of each gender make it somewhat worthwhile. I expect the future to be
just as fascinating as the past, and hope my readers can say the same about their own lives. Most
of us have plenty of time to get every last thing we want out of life, if we are willing to work for
it, know where to find it, disciplined in our search for it, and patient in awaiting its arrival.

The Ultimate Guru Challenge: Me vs. Mystery

This text was copyrighted very early on January 26, 2010, the same day Mysterys
new book, The Pickup Artist, dropped. This text was held in abeyance for a while, while
distribution and promotional issues were being worked out, but the copyright date makes it
impossible for either of us to borrow from the other, thus allowing for a true challenge,
rather than some chest-thumping L-I challenge which proves little, and where the baby gurus
have an intrinsic advantage.

On a final note, there may be minor language and spelling errors in this text,
secondary to the deadline imposed by this challenge. The latter consideration trumped the
former, but only for the Kate edit, that would have eliminated every last mistake. In this case,
content is king.

Sorry-Matt-Damon-We-Ran-Out-Of-Time-(Full-Text)

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