So I’m sitting here in Calgary after just spending another week partying. I just changed some people’s lives for the irreversible good, I spent the night with a local cutie last night and now I’m off to Denver city where I am planning to meet up with another cutie.

But life didn’t always used to be this way, far from it. The guy I used to be would mope around, listening to Coldplay crafting poetry and sniffing women’s hair I found collected in their bathroom sinks.

Well maybe not that creepy, but it definitely sucked. But as much as it sucked it made sense to me, it was familiar and to change anything about that would bring with it huge feelings of anxiety and vulnerability.

To change anything would call into question everything I thought I ever knew about the world. To do that would find me lost wandering amongst the world aimlessly. Not knowing who to serve or what my purpose is.

Socially conditioned I thought I had to pay my bills, buy the flowers and compose the poems. To even contemplate success was to call into question my socially conditioned sense of self. My reality.

And as shit as that reality was it’s all I had ever known. Who knew what might happen if I took a risk or took responsibility?

When I went to learn game I thought it would be possible to be good with girls operating out of this chode reality. While I did deliver some good lines and got my acting good enough to star in an American Sit-Com I was never got the results I knew I should.

But I couldn’t figure out why.

Tim says there are four types of guys in the world.

Unless you’re the naturally attractive guy you are never going to get girls and you will literally endure your dating life banging your head against the wall and your dick against your hand. Or an internet ‘fleshlight’ which I hear goes pretty good.

We all hear the saying ‘coming from the right place’. What this means is that you’re operating from the reality that you are natural sexworthy guy, in alignment with your biological nature.

If you are reading this I can pretty much guarantee that you are coming from a place other than your naturally attractive sex inspiring self. You might be an entertainer chode or just a tolerable nice guy, perhaps even a creepy fuck that watches the little mermaid while you shave you legs.

Doesn’t matter what you say, you will never communicate the same things as the guy who walks through life in the natural, default, sex inspiring reality.

I can tell you right now that if you’re the sort of guy who has to ‘game girls’ you will never get laid, unless she is kinda loopy. You might get some good superficial reactions but a shit tonne of LMR. But hey, you can tell your friends you’re a pimp right all the while your pleasure centres and penis will endure the dry truth.

To get laid and really get this part of your life handled you need to make an internal psychological shift. Change your very sense of self and your identity. You need to become the naturally attractive guy that’s inside of you. Executive coaches are examples of this.

The truth is if you’re not a naturally attractive guy right now you have an ego. This is characterised by chodey behaviour and it stands in place of your true intentions as a man, suppressing what would otherwise be attractive.

It’s called ‘pretending to be a chode’ and is a result of social conditioning. Where your deep natural desires would dictate exactly the right thing to do at any time to get girls your ‘pretending to be a chode ego’ will have you second guessing yourself and erroneously contemplating the right and wrong things to do when you are interacting with women.

Good thing is, once you make the shift from ‘pretending to be a chode’ there is no going back.

If you have ever met a five year old you have met a naturally attractive guy. If you have ever met a guy alcohol ‘buzzed’ enough to be carefree but still coherent you have met a naturally attractive guy.

In the case of the five year old, I’ll use my little cousin for an example; he is acting through his own intentions because he is not yet old enough to be compromised by social conditioning. In the case of the buzzed adult the alcohol has inhibited the part of his brain that applies social conditioning filters to his emotional desires. Of course if you get too ‘buzzed’ drunk you will become sloppy and desperate.

The point is the manual (your blueprint) to this process is embedded in your subconscious, but you have constructed chode ego over it during you upbringing and socially conditioned mapping of your reality. Chode ego is continually reinforced by repeated disciplinary slaps on the hand when you execute authentic masculine behaviour.

Interestingly, these disciplinary actions are only validated if you succumb to them. If you do not, and you are not breaking any laws it becomes a case of ‘that just who he is’ or ‘that just what he does’ and your behaviour becomes justifiable to those around you.

Think Stifler from American Pie or James Bond, both the characters were written with the intentions of compelling female audiences with the presentation of a man who is truly coming from the place of natural authenticity and behaving in accordance with his own intentions.

Let me make note that when I refer to a ‘naturally attractive man’, I refer to what is commonly known as your ‘nature’. The way you were born and the raw attraction inspiring state you radiate when you experience the nimbus.

Examine the diagram below. You are born prewired as a man who is hardwired to inspire attraction in women. On the right hand side of the graphic it shows your descent to ‘tolerable chode’ in light of social conditioning during adolescence and early adulthood.

(Full Image Link)

If the sexworthy guy is the way your internal compass is aligned then to live as a tolerable guy, a creepy guy or an entertainer/nice guy you are just living thought the filter of an ego that isn’t congruent with who you are as a man. You’re coming from the wrong place.

Dating success will be rare if ever.

It is pushing into the new reality that will result in you consistently getting the hottest girls and with consistency comes the highlights.

If you aren’t getting the results you want you probably are aware of the fact that you aren’t as competent at pick up as you would like to be, and thus, this has inspired you to take the action of self actualisation which ultimately will require identity level change.

When approaching, projecting an ego that isn’t congruent with your internal compass, women will know that you aren’t being authentic and will pretty quickly blow you out. This lack of authenticity is due to you not following the actions of the guy you ACTUALLY ARE and instead deploying the actions of a chode you are PRETENDING TO BE.

For an example try this exercise: behave in a way that isn’t congruent to your core .

Think of your nationality and how proud you are to be of that nationality. The trait of your nationality is as intrinsic to you as your natural core. Think in terms of tribal belonging. If you have parents and grandparents of the same nationality, have lived on the land and breathed the air of your nation and grown on produce from your nation then your nation is INTRISICALLY PART OF YOU.

That is to say it is you.

Would you be proud to walk up to a girl and state your nationality? Of course you would. In fact you will probably feel pretty fantastic saying it. Parallel to true natural game it is the same as approaching and saying ‘hi my name is x’. This is pure expression.

Now what most guys do is like this. Think of a rival nation to you. No disrespect, but they are your sporting rival or whatever. Try if you can to say aloud words to the effect that ‘I hate my nation and I wish I was from (insert rival nation here)’. When these words come out of your mouth it can actually make you feel bad and weird.

In natural game it would be like approaching a girl and talking to her and trying to or pretend to be something that you’re not. There is no strength behind it and you don’t even like yourself for it. This is impression, actions with the intension of impressing something on someone else for a desired result or intention.

The golden rule of natural game: Whatever you feel; she feels.

When you take actions that don’t agree with your core, out of alignment with your internal compass, you feel bad and as a result make the girl feel bad. If you approach and genuinely understand and follow your own intentions you feel good as though you don’t care what anyone else think of you.

The result is the girl feels good.

To be anything other than aligned with the sexworthy guy inside of you is to communicate bad feelings. You will communicate low value when you put chode ego actions in front of your natural self. Topresent chode ego to girl in order to conceal your nature is to communicate that you don’t think your natural self is good enough for her. This is called having low self esteem, low self worth or a lack of self trust.

You communicate your value loud and clear to the girl before you even approach her. If you’re a guy who is constantly experiencing immediate bad reactions when you approach this will be due to a lack of congruence with your nature. Read through for the outline of what constitutes your nature below.

When I refer to the type of guy that you are I mean the ego-filter that holds you in your reality. This ego will dictate the way you communicate everything you do. In the context of pickup it is essential to communicate everything that you do through a high value filter. If you don’t simply won’t get the girl.

A high value filter is achieved by acting in alignment with your internal compass. By making an identity level change from the ‘pretending to be a chode ego’ you have now to your natural state of being as a man.

What I’m most interested in is how you get from your old reality to the new one. When I teach bootcamp it’s not case of teaching what you say or what you do, it’s a case of pushing you into a new reality. There are a lot of cool funny lines, great verbal structures, awesome gambits and various techniques as well. But none of them will be of any value whatsoever unless they are coming through the right filter.

To breach the threshold of a new reality is nigh on impossible on your own and almost always involves some objective intervention to inspire the process. Without the hands on interactivity and pressure to push forward you will remain like most guys and spend years milling over the internet for the missing piece of you game that might finally and get you laid.

A lot of guys review Bootcamp and say it’s awesome. But the thing is they can’t and don’t really articulate why because they consciously understand the process at hand. They feel it, they recognise it but because it is subconscious it’s very hard for the average guy to articulate something he can’t see and doesn’t fully understand.

Also, you will notice that guys don’t go on about how hot the girls were her hooked up with or number closed (I can assure there are heaps, a total newbie gets between four to six numbers per night if he actually asks for them). After program, he’s more interested in himself and his new potential. He is in a headspace of indifference to their aesthetic value, but he might still report the hotness to inspire others as an inspiration to commit to the process.

We say become the blank slate before program, press the reset button and do exactly as we say. The more the guy can switch off his old reality the quicker and easier we can push him into a reality where everything he says and does comes through the right filters.

Guys who resist these instructions will have difficult fully adhering to a new reality. I won’t let them leave program until they have experienced this, but the more he can let go and trust himself and the time honoured process of Bootcamp the more phenomenal his success will be.

The truer the process of identity level change will be.

But the process of identity level change can be like pushing a massive fucking rock up a hill. The closer you get to the top the more position energy resistance you will get and the more fatigued you will become. But once you get there it’s a sense of euphoria and it’s a breeze to roll down the other side that sounds like ‘whooooooosh’. On the other side of that hill – the new reality – it’s as if gravity like everything else is working for you.

In terms of making the identity level shift it’s a case of detaching from everything you know and going someplace where nothing makes sense. But given the fact that it doesn’t yet make sense it give you an opportunity to take ownership of it and interpret it in whatever way you want.

Examine the diagram below and reference with the following explanation of how it pertains to natural game.

What you’re looking at is a function of anxiety in relation to how close you get to ‘letting go’ and experiencing identity level change. If you look at the furthest left hand side of the blue line you can see that most people walk around the world in a constant state of anxiety. This is basically due to common insecurities and stressing about what other people think of them.

The further you move towards a different reality the more amplified your anxiety becomes because you are moving away from a comfortable place. The further you move away from the comfortable place you more you have to rely on yourself to deal with the unknown situations at hand. This is making the shift of being socially conditioned and being kept in place by ‘the system’ to overcoming it and having to rely on your own faculties.

The green double ended arrow that stretches from the comfort zone into the red anxiety zone is the progress of reality change that most people make. The further they move away from their comfort zone (which is usually a stifled socially conditioned life) the more uncertain they become of themselves as they realise that the responsibility is placed upon them.

This includes taking responsibility for negative repercussions that potentially occur and causes an acute rise in anxiety. Also the more a person has to take responsibility for their own actions the more present they become revealing awareness of the magnitude to which they are not in control of their own reality.

In their comfort zone they can be happily ignorant of the lack of control over their own life and remain anything but present. They experience comfort because they delude themselves to their reality. A socially conditioned reality is a constructed reality that people were not evolutionarily meant to be contained by.

Once people get closer to the new reality and anxiety increases people are inclined to regress back to the safety of their comfort zone. As a person moves proximally closer to a new reality the anxiety increases to a point that is nearly unbearable. For most it a lot easier not to endure it and simply ‘settle’ for the old externally controlled inferior reality where they remain ignorant to the better life they should be living. An externally defined reality of control.

The reality on the left is based on ego whereas the reality on the right is one of self esteem. Understand that for you to be conditioned into something that defies your natural state is to derive your sense of self from the word around you. A sense of self that is partially externally composed means you have an identity/persona/ego constructed. This keeps you in place socially and you are always at the mercy of your environment.

In the reality on the right you cease to compose your sense of self in accordance with external feedback. By letting go of concern for external factors your anxiety level drops markedly. When you trust yourself more than any other person you have no anxiety that others are going to let you down. You have no expectations of the world around you, the buck stops with you. You take responsibility for your actions and behaviour.

When you have no expectations of the world around you, when YOU define the world around you external factors don’t play a part in the composition of your sense of self. You lose your ego and operate purely though the default state of self esteem. You feel happy.

For those socially conditioned individuals willing enough to move far away enough from their comfort zone they go through a massive process of uncertainty that involves testing their emotions, their faculties and their resources as a human.

People who undergo this process rarely if ever find that they don’t have what it takes to trust in themselves and take responsibility for their reality. Admittedly it is very scary to undergo this process of exploring the unknown but really is only a cognitively constructed abstract concept that you fear.

Once this process is endured and you realise that you can actually deal with whatever situation life throws your way you realise that you can ACTUALLY take responsibility for yourself and survive. You become indifferent to life itself and any situation that might present itself.

This is the process of making the identity shift to internal trust an as a result you gain intrinsic high value. Once you realise you have been through this ordeal it’s like conquering a rite of passage.

After you conquer this everything becomes trivial to you and you literally walk through the world at ease with your hands firmly on the reins of your own reality. Your daily anxiety is far less than those around you still living in their socially conditioned world. You become a true alpha male and you instantly inspire attraction in the women you interact with. When life used to be a chore it is now merely a celebration.

Canned classic game is a chore while natural game is simply a celebration.

Emotionally and physically in a historical sense this isn’t the same process for women. Emotionally women experience a more unpredictable and turbulent set of emotion influencing hormones than men do.

Men, relative to women, will always have the natural emotional capacity of stronger self assurance. Physically women simply don’t have the same capabilities as men do and as a result will always experience more daily anxiety for their own safety and well being than men ever will. Of course I am talking strictly in terms of evolutionary cognition that is redundant in today’s society.

However, as far as natural attraction applies it is still as pertinent today as it was for your ancestors 200 generations before you. Emotional evolution ceased a long time ago and cognitive filters have since taken over our emotional lives. Men’s natural ability to self trust and live a life that results in significantly less anxiety is gender polarity, yin and yang. The two go together perfectly.

Importantly, after the process of identity level change, in light of the experience itself, there will be no going back to the old reality. After testing yourself and proving to yourself that you’re actually capable of dealing with anything that comes your way you will never revert back to the state of constant daily anxiety and self doubt that you used to confine you. You become a grounding source of energy for others around you and a leader of men and women. Your self-trust gives you a stronger frame then those around you and as a result people react more to you than you do to them.

Living this way, naturally and free of social conditioning, satisfies both sides of the attraction formula. The fact that you are more indifferent than everyone else makes you high value. The fact that you have a stronger self-trust and a stronger frame than others causes them to naturally react to you more than you react to them. Them reacting to you means they experience emotional spikes because of you.

Higher value plus eliciting emotions equals means you will inspire attraction in women.

This is why it is important to ‘man the fuck up’. Make the shift to a reality where you live ‘manned the fuck up’. This is to live in accordance with your nature. This is natural game.

If the above was the description of what happens mechanically during the identity level change process the following is what signifies the traits of both realities and what actually occurs in real life to facilitate the process.

Your existing reality is one of ‘pretending to be a chode’ ego and is socially conditioned.

Remember this was not always the case. This ‘chode ego’ is a result of people putting you in your place during your upbringing and putting limiting beliefs onto you. This reality and ego (same thing from different perspectives) stands in place of your natural default self.

Because this reality has been constructed for you and externally identifies you you live in a world where you don’t know who you are, you don’t give yourself permission for greatness and you do you trust yourself. Coming from this place you think your game is anything but a ten, you feel you are lower value than the girls you are talking to and you second guess yourself constantly, continually living in reaction to the girls you talk to.

In terms of the attraction formula you are lower value than the girls you talk to and they give you a range of emotions instead of you giving them a range of emotions.

Socially conditioned learning of the game will have you looking for things to strengthen your ego, your externally constructed sense of self. It’s like looking for secret weapons to use in field. You feel power in a way that you never did when you were just being yourself because you didn’t know who you were nor did you trust yourself on its socially conditioned own.

But, giving weaponry to a weak person they will still yield a weak attack. A weapon is only as good as the operator. To use an old game metaphor it’s like a mere band aid over a wounded self. Coming from this weak place, the socially conditioned reality, you keep looking for better and better weaponry, bigger and bigger guns, more clever technology to use in your battle to get girls.

All the time it’s still being operated by the same feeble individual. To desire to use weaponry to execute something that you should be able to execute naturally yourself is to overtly communicate weakness. In the context of the club this translates to you communicating to the girl that you are not a good enough guy for her as you are. You needed something extra special to compensate for your shortcomings to achieve confidence to approach her.

Mainstream school of pickup are always teaching something new and ego supportive but are missing the elusive obvious. It’s not the weaponry that gets the girl it has to be the operator. To need something special means that you are not good enough for the girl to begin with. To not be good enough for the girl to begin with means you are lower value.

To be lower value means you are not attractive and you won’t get laid.

The contrasting reality is your natural default reality. In your world you are the only common denominator and you live in accordance with this fact as you are the only thing in the world you can actually control.

A result of getting your reality under control is that people who don’t have their realities under control with flock to you magnetically in a search for self assurance they don’t yet possess.

In a self defined reality you are a leader and as a leader it’s at your discretion as to what to do with you power. You will find that it is in your nature to be generous and offer value to others as it gives you good feelings to guide others as a man.

In light of enduring the indifference threshold (rite of passage to the self defined reality) you acquire delusional self trust. This same delusion gives you confidence and abilities to do things that others would never even attempt to do. In a lot of cases undertaking a difficult task with confidence and self-trust are the only prerequisites to accomplishing it.

You enjoy challenges as they are a forum for you to celebrate yourself and push you outside of your comfort zone to a place where you need to draw the best out of yourself. It is in these situations that you exceed your own expectations of what you thought were capable of.

Because you do not derive your sense of self from the world around you you have no expectations of the world or your interaction with it. You know that the only constant in your reality is the way you take responsibility for your own reality. The only expectations you have is that your results are proportionate to the application of yourself to your goals. You take every responsibility for your goals.

While you take credit for things achieved or failed you do not identify with them. To do that is to derive a sense of self from the world around you and form and ego. Every goal is a new battle and a chance to celebrate yourself and challenge yourself in a way that again calls on you to bring your best. You are never above the process.

This attitude will never find you resting on your laurels. You are humble about your achievements; however you are still self assured to the point of arrogance that you will be able to deal with any new challenge that comes your way.

This humility finds you starting equal with every other man when undertaking a challenge. You are not above the process and you take responsibility for every aspect of it. You have no expectations that something external from yourself could provide assistance greater than what you can produce yourself. Challenges for you are a celebration of your unlimited potential and resourcefulness.

The fun is in the process and goal is just a bonus as you know that even if you achieve it doesn’t make you a better person. The achievement of goals enriches your life but you realise it will never change you or give you your identity.

Achieving goals is merely a celebration of yourself you and thus you treat it as a game. You have fun doing it. You are not detracting from anyone else as you don’t need them to complete yourself. As a result they often become compelled in what you are doing and cannot resist involvement with you.

In terms of the women you talk to you are always paying the game for you, not for the girl. You are playing the game for the derivation of your own fun.

Because you are playing for you and not for her you communicate that your value of yourself is greater than your value for her. The result is you inspire attraction. Your self-assurance is something that you have more of than she does.

(****NOTE: I refer to the fact that you have more self assurance than those still under the guise of social conditioning. I refer merely to the primitive social emotional world where men’s evolutionarily physiology gives them a stronger sense of self assurance than women naturally hormonally have. In modern society this isn’t the case, but behavioural traits still pertaining to natural gender differences will always inspire attraction.)

Because you realise that no one is going to take responsibility for your achieving your goals you also take every responsibility for the girl getting laid. This way she doesn’t feel slutty. You resolve her of responsibility and she can enjoy the feeling of empowerment from spending time with someone who knows who he is, knows what he wants and has no reason to believe he doesn’t deserve to achieve it.

You see pick up, like everything else, as a game. While other people enrich your life they still are only subordinate roles to you in your reality. You enjoy the way you celebrate yourself when in the game, but don’t really care if no result is gained. This is because you understand that ultimately scoring a girl doesn’t change who you are, its just a celebration of who you are and an enriching experience. you understand that if the women doesn’t realise your value that she will be left to less self assured men where she will find herself dissatisfied.

When you approach girls you feel exited because it is an opportunity to influence her and better her life. You involve her with what you are doing, never deviating from your own path in order to satisfy hers.

Your path is your primary purpose in life. Following your own path is the only purpose in life that will reliably yield an enriched life experience for you, following other’s paths with generally just yield enriched lives for them.

In this reality you are high value because you trust yourself and prioritise yourself before anyone else. Because people are less assured than you and look to you for guidance and assurance they experience emotional spikes because of you.

Your higher value combined with you eliciting a range of emotions in people because they are reacting to you will make you very attractive.

It is getting in touch with your natural reality as a man that is the key to mastering natural game.

To ‘identity change’ to this reality is to master the game. You would think that it would be easy to just adopt the traits listed above and master the game. But in an attempt to do this your anxiety levels will increase dramatically and you will feel a massive sense of vulnerability like you have been cut loose and you are on your own.

Even if someone who has gone through this gives you the instructions of how to get to this new reality you would think that you would follow instructions obediently and with their assistance successfully make the jump. For some it can be so scary to leave their little comfort zone that they refuse to just let it all go and trust themselves under pressure.

When I refer to the commonly used term ‘letting go’ I mean letting go of others’ influence and control over you and taking sole responsibility for your reality. Like the first time you swam and let go of the edge of the pool, once in the deep water it was as though you already knew how to do it. Up until that ‘leap point’ you were massively scared. Once you proved to yourself you could swim you were simply indifferent to the whole swimming process and it just becomes fun whether you do it well or not.

There is massive resistance for a person to go from one reality to another. The resistance is roughly proportionate to how strong the person’s existing socially conditioned chode ego is. They deliberately secure themselves in the chode ego because with it comes a weird constructed form of self assurance. They know who they are but its only because its firmly relevant to the world around them.

Said another way they develop chode ego so strong that they do form a very strong reality, but it’s that of complete chodeness that is continually reinforced by all the forces around them. They are put in place. They are really giving everyone else responsibility for who they are and taking zero responsibility for themself. So to question that reality and begin to take any responsibility for their own self is a massive terrifying daunting unknown.

Because they gave all the responsibility away to other people to define who they are, when they go to move to a new reality they have little to no recollection of what it means to take any responsibility for their own life.

In cases like this they consciously think that they would like to make a change but when they begin to take some responsibility the fact is quickly shoved in their face that they really have no idea of who they are and like a hermit crab quickly return to what they knew back in the chode comfort zone.

However, it is also in the cases of the biggest chode egos that the transformation is so rewarding and contrasting. One example of this is Tyler’s story. The effort to push into that new reality was a long and exhaustive one, but once the jump was made and the indifference threshold reached it required so much more anxiety than that of others’ journeys that in his new reality he was a lot much more indifferent than everyone else. This gave rise to the best results.

I can say from experience this is true of most of the coaches. The more emotional leverage you have the better you are inspired to become.

To endure the anxiety of moving away from your old reality is a terrifying daunting task. You are psychologically programmed to fear this as though it was death. To risk what you don’t know in caveman times is to result in death, so the fear of challenging your reality is comparable to fear of death. But its guys who aren’t afraid of death that are high value and leaders of other mean.

Naturally attractive alpha males.

They understand the fear and why it exists and with experience of overcoming the fear they overcome it and are indifferent to it. Irreversible identity level change.

During the learning process when you go at this on your own you will find yourself getting close to and sometimes tasting this reality. But each time you do with it will come feelings of vulnerability that will quickly have you regressing back to the old reality. Old bad neural patterns rearing their heads and holding you back.

After repeated strengthening of the neural structures that will come with your new reality you might occasionally have reality snapbacks and go about and behave the way you did in your former reality.

It’s as though you are subconsciously checking that what you’re doing is the right thing. When you do experience this reality snapback it will bring to light just how bad the old reality was, it might even shock you but it will be an obvious reminder to how bad it was to live in the old reality.

This reality snapback is your subconscious trying to take you back to a place of comfort and low risk. This serves the evolutionary process of gene preservation. The body is always trying to preserve itself and by living in a reality where other things take responsibility for you and you are required to exert least energy and thought possible.

It is the warrior reality where you exert the most energy and thought possible. You are taking responsibility. The warrior is the naturally attractive alpha male.

To find the warrior on your own is near impossible as you have continual reality snapbacks and quickly regress when you leave your comfort zone. It usually requires an objective intervention to make sure that you really do blast through the indifference threshold and not look back.

Now you might go out tonight and make a big effort to push into a new reality and that will be good, but to recognise that you are going in the right direction takes someone who has been through the process before and knows what it looks like.

To really achieve identity level change requires a combination of willpower, leverage, guidance and balls. You need willpower to make the decision to commit to the process and endure it in times of trial. You need leverage to give you the motivation to take responsibility for your own reality in the first place. The difference between an average guy out there in the world and an average guy in the community is the community guy had leverage. You need some guidance from a learned experienced resource to ensure you are going in the right direction who can objectively push you past your comfort zone without succumbing to the emotions involved subjectively. And you will need balls, because that’s what all of the above is and what it means to be a man.

This is the purpose of bootcamp and the massive value that it is. If you were to go out tonight and attempt this it is most likely the case that you wouldn’t push through to your true indifference threshold and you would quickly find yourself regressing back to a comfortable place. Secondly, to push forward an an effort for identity level change could be a disaster if you don’t exactly know what the natural identity is or have someone to model it from.

This is why RSD bootcamps have the value they do. You can watch and read tactics which is great, but its the life shifting experience that takes you to the next level and makes mastery possible. Before now it has been hard to articulate, but this is what it comes down to. Can former students attest to this?

Think of the process of identity level change – reality change – like the metaphor of a spider’s web.

Imagine you are born into a web and you are confined to live within the rules and bounds of it. Everything you do, ever actions you take is based on the web. As far as you know, without the web you will die. You don’t know if you can live without it as it makes up the very fabric of your existence. You exist relative to it, and because it controls you you live in a constant state of anxiety.

Then one day something happens and a little punkass kid moves nearby and you can see him killing other spiders around you with insect repellent (metaphor for leverage). You know that you are going to have to take responsibility for this and take some action otherwise you might die (metaphor for not passing on your genes).

As the punk ass kid approaches you are scared but you don’t move because you don’t know what else to do. He starts punching holes in the joins in your web (metaphor for destroying pillars of your existing reality).

With the destruction of each joint of your web (reality) your web becomes weaker and your anxiety increases. Your web (old reality) is becoming weaker and weaker; you have never felt more scared and anxious in all your life.

The web is now a fragment of what it used to be. Something you believe in and trusted no longer holds you in place. You have no choice but to take responsibility if you want to live.

You let go of the web (external pillars holding you in place) and jump, trusting that where ever you land you will be better than a certain fate of death. This trust is born simply of necessity; at this point you no longer have a choice. As you sail through the air wondering where you will land you realise that if you can get through this you can get through anything. Then with a light spider-thud you land.

When you stand up you feel overcome by a sense of empowerment. It’s as though you are invincible. You made it through the toughest ordeal of your life. Sure you have no reality. But you can exist without it.

Then by nature, you realise you can spin whatever reality you want by pulling it literally out of your ass. You realise how cool this is and look around for the best place to spin your new reality. It occurs to you that the new reality you spin will just be a celebration of you as opposed to something you are dependent upon. You can spin your reality however you want and you don’t even care if it falls down because you can just spin another one out of your ass.

When before you were in a reality to not lose, now you can spin a reality to win for no other reason than its a celebration of your ability to spin your own reality. In fact, you can make a reality so strong that you can invite other sexy ass spiders to come for sleepovers and pillow fights.

You spin your web/reality and at first it doesn’t feel quite like home and you will even think longing back to the old web, but soon you make it your own. You have defined your world and when before you didn’t think you deserved anything better than what you were served in life you realise that you are deserving of what you make for yourself. There is no reason why you wouldn’t be deserving of any reality unless you didn’t take responsibility for it yourself.

You know now that you are adaptable to any situation and at any time can just define your reality out of your ass. It seems that this is your birth right. Why didn’t you realise and trust yourself earlier? You spent all that time scared in chode web. ‘Fuck that’ you think and you go and make yourself a better web right now.

You feel empowered. You inspire others to build their webs around you because you are so assured of your reality and your having so much fun defining your own reality that others want to come over and visit you and be involved with you. You try to convince them that they can do the same but they are too scared to trust themselves. For the time being they just like being around you because of the certainty you radiate.

You web is like a nimbus around you, self defined projected reality that you can continually pull out of your ass.

That little story is called spider web theory and is a great way to help someone understand the abstract concept of identity level change.

Realise that in overcoming the anxiety and stepping into a new reality involves some feeling of vulnerability at first, embrace them and look to your ass to start defining how you are going to build a reality of your choice. At first it might feel a little bit foreign, but when you go back to your old reality you will be reminded of how much it disgusted you and you never look back again.

I remember when I undertook this process back in Bris-vegas. I was a part of a reality that involved other people. When I went to destroy my own others tried to prevent me and keep me in place. I was met with some heavy resistance and ultimately had to redefine my reality and cut ties with some people. It was a better reality without them and it made space to include a lot of other better people, especially girls. After a while the original haters began to get with the program.

Others have said this before: others don’t hate you for changing, they hate on you because you call their reality into question. You make up a link in their web and when that link comes undone they question the other links and begin to feel vulnerable and experience the anxiety. This is especially true of other alpha males. You might need to have a frame battle, or even a physical battle as it was in my case. But as they say, the stronger reality (frame) eventually wins.

When I began to change guys would say to me shit like ‘you’re trying to be something that you’re not’. What the fuck? That’s the idea. The interesting thing is, if they met the new me it would be a lot cooler than meeting the old me.

If, when experiencing identity level change guys do hate on you there is a way to deal with it. Say this to them: “dude… fuck you. Look, I lost someone who was really close to me. And basically it has put shit into perspective. Shit needs to change for me, I was really shaken up by things and now things need to change for the better. So if you can’t deal with that: fuck off. But if you then let’s move forward and get on with shit.”

This was deployed a few times by me. If you lose a family member or close friend that can actually inspire the same leverage that you might get from being cheated on, divorced or any other emotionally turbulent episode. When someone hears that you have gone through that they can understand your identity level change and embrace it with you. In that case my example: who did you lose? Your old chode self, it was certainly a emotionally turbulent episode.

It is the emotional turbulence itself that is the very causality behind the change. When you boil it down its when you cry that you change fundamentality as a person. I’m still trying to find good research on this so if anyone knows any science behind the correlation between emotional centring and crying let me know.

I don’t know the physiological or neurochemical process but the times I see myself and other people fundamentally change is when they cry. Crying can come from emotionally distressing episodes or emotionally euphoric episodes. Sometimes it can be one and the same thing.

In the case of euphoric crying you make the realisation that you actually are capable of the phenomenal and it’s a release of emotions. For example when you save someone’s life, have a child or conquer a great feat like hiking Everest or winning a sports final. You will always know that it’s within you and passed all the tests. Things that once intimidated you are now looked at as though they’re no longer a big deal. This is emotional centring.

On the other hand when you cry due to distress it’s a case of hurt. But it’s usually you surviving something that scared you to death. This occurs the same way as when you break up with a loved one, when you lose someone close to you who played a pivotal part in your reality (which most people depend on) or you have a near death experience and survived it. In light of these experiences you realise that you made it though and things that once scared you or inspired anxiety are put into perspective. You become indifferent to them, this also is emotional centring.

Emotional centring means you have taken control of your own emotions and no longer allow others or external forces to effect you. Because you are more emotionally indifferent you are higher value. You are no longer reactive to the world (reality) around you, but now the world and reality lives in reaction to you. It is defined as a function of the way you take responsibility for it.

How does this help you to get girls? The way you live will dictate whether or not you satisfy the RSD attraction formula.

In your existing reality (identity) you are not indifferent, that is to say that ‘you do give a fuck what people think of you’. This will be both mean that you want people to think certain things of you (ego) and you don’t want them to think bad things of you (ego preservation). Because you care, you are intrinsically lower value. And it won’t matter what you say or do, what ego tools you employ, your weaponry is only as good as the operator employing them. Because you live in reaction to your reality (ego projection and ego defence) the world will continually shake you emotionally. While this is happening you will rarely have people reacting, be intolerant to social pressure and not elicit emotions in the girls that you talk to.

When you do make the reality jump, when you do just fucking let go and trust in yourself, drop the pretending to be a chode ego and take responsibility for your own reality everything will fall into place. You will literally look at the world through different eyes. Because you care less than the people around you and have generally indifferent to everything you will communicate higher value everywhere you go. Because you are supremely indifferent you will react less than the girls you interact with, you will establish a stronger frame and they will find themselves reacting to you just because of the way you are. You will elicit emotions and arousal in the women you talk to just by being you.

To adopt this reality is to be supremely naturally attractive. Identity level change equates to massive success with women.

To identity level change means you will come full circle and realign your internal compass with the man you were naturally born to be. You are now coming from the right place. Just by being you naturally will inspire attraction in women. Being your natural self is natural game.

Define your new reality. Defining your own reality includes the people around you. During this process they will experience emotional spikes just by being around you. These emotional spikes might come in the form of fun, dominance, persistence anger, fury or whatever. Just by taking responsibility for yourself, being on your path, you will elicit emotions in the women you interact with.

Some people will resist your reality, but as a man it’s your responsibility to resist being categorized by others. You might experience a frame battle, hold true and establish the stronger frame and establish that you have higher value.

To be categorized externally is to be socially conditioned. No one else categorizes you so you don’t form your sense of self in terms of external feedback, you have no ego. Being unstifled and uncategorized leaves you living in a fluid self defined reality of pure self esteem. No ego means no ‘chode ego’ behavioural filters, means you are back to your nature. This is how you get natural game.

Get this and you become a rare and special entity.

Remember the golden rule of natural game is: ‘whatever you feel: she feels’.

In your ‘pretending to be a chode ego’ how do you feel? Scared, unsure of who you are, anxious, nervous, self distrusting, victimised, feminine and needy. Lost.

In your natural default reality how do you feel? Relaxed and chilled due to minimal anxiety. Empowered, confident, self trusting, celebrated, content and masculine. Happy.

Whatever you feel, she feels. Take responsibility.

With great responsibility comes great power.

Alexander~

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The ‘summer of mixed emotions’ is here. Something happened after my euro trip. I grew up. No more bullshit. No more sub standard self respect.

The warrior has been born.

A few months ago I finally moved on from the cherish that I had before I got into the game. She flew from Australia to Los Angeles for a final hurrah that I will always remember. But having her around took my focus of the path of the warrior. Her feminine presence influences me in that inspired ‘settling down’.

Fuck that.

It stopped me from closing other girls, I would eat shit food and potter around my comfort zone like a little girl.

Charlie Kilo has stepped up. My posture has gone from one of a potato shaped keyboard jockey to that of a club warrior.

In this summer of mixed emotions party has been put to the wayside. Work first, play second. Funnily enough, the harder you work the more compassion you bring to the battle field.

In this summer of mixed emotions the Abs are back for good. You are only between twenty and thirty for what is a tiny snapshot of your life.

Fuck spending it as a testosterone depleted fat fuck.

I spoke with the operators at RSD head office and I have scheduled the next ten years of my life to be spent in the summer time. North America and Europe summer then Australian Summer.

After my euro tour of doom, the ‘winter of paradise’ I have embarked on this ‘summer of mixed emotions’. It will conclude at the France executive retreat where will rip the French clubs a new accent and the girls a new affection.

Thus will begin the Australian ‘SUMMERNOVA’. And I’m well on the way to the body needed for the intended photogenic career of choice.

Alex is serious about this, the Euro tour killed the irresponsibility in me. Alex is not the new guy anymore, Alex is not still figuring shit out.

Alex has come of age and to quote my mentor am beggining to fill the expectations that go along with being ‘Tyler’s Prodigy’.

I have employed the assistance of “Cheif” a personal trainer in Australia. This guy is the shit, amongst my best students, he offered his services as my health advisor and with him as my cousel he has pushed me to new levels.

Diet, program and he emails me constantly asking for updates and pushing me to do more than I already am. I have quit the drinking, started to sleep properly and am giving myself the recovery I need to graduate to the next level.

I have employed the resource www.myfooddiary.com. This keeps a track of my food intake and calorie expenditure. You wouldn’t realise how easy it is to gain 2 pounds of fat a week. By that same token, it’s really fucken easy to lose two pounds a week, increase muscle mass and get the tone that you know you deserve.

The best thing about it is it keeps track of progress and you can hit measurable goals.

I spend my time on the treadmills reading avidly. I am going along at a rate of a book a week. Some of my recent conquests have been ‘the alphabet of manliness’ by Maddox, ‘my horizontal life’ by Chelsea Hardy and I’m currently neck deep in a book about writing skills and techniques.

Notably, my game has gone to the next level because, as those who attended my flawless natural superconference speech will remember, moving things forward and taking action are essential elements of your self esteem.

Progress equals a good feeling. Staying the same equals a bad feeling. Staying the same usually means regression and feeling like shit.

The golden rule is, whatever you feel: she feels. Step into the club knowing that day you have made progress in life and you will radiate success, feel awesome and give yourself permission to party hard and talk to the girls you want because you have a earned it.

A huge component of establishing a sense of entitlement that most guys lack.

Operation Charlie~Kilo and TSORA: The Lazarus Protocol are spearing heading a masculine dual of physical empowerment on an international scale.

Find your inner warrior, get in the gym and cut the shit. Disregard the irrelevant.

Time to Fuck.

Alexander~

PS, check out my little buddy Showtimes Blog: http://showtimeadventures.wordpress.com/2008/07/04/idols-and-role-models/

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So I am at the bar, uninspired by the usual Friday night situation.

I’m getting the predictable ‘you have an accent’ interview questions from another predictable girl.

“Where are you from, what are you doing here.”

This was the eleven thousandth iteration of the same predictable bullshit. Enough predictable is enough.

So I’m at the bar again exactly seven days later, uninspired by the predictable Friday night scene.

I get the predictable interview ‘you have an accent’ questions from a predictable girl.

“Where are you from…what do you do”

Hrrrm, how can I answer that?

Whoooooosh, down go the trousers.

Australian-flag boxer shorts.

Girl: “So you’re Australian?”

I laugh, satisfied with my execution.

Wooosh! Alex tripping over his escorted ass.

Predictable Friday night. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahn.

There is something about doing something unexpected that makes me tick. I think it makes every guy tick. I often see guys get ‘hella’ excited when they do something that no one saw coming, all the time I’ll see guys intending on doing something unexpected and self entertaining…but not stepping up.

This is a theme for today’s blog. Here I am, at the original ground central. The closest thing I might consider to be a home. My spiritual LAX hotel.

Since I left the factory many moons ago I have since lived in hotels all around the world.

For about two months this was quite the novelty especially for a guy who is in his early twenties. But after a while I missed being able to take care of organising myself and began to hate having to rely on other’s to organise things for me.

The RSD guys do an awesome job or setting up accommodation however the accommodators generally suck. American customer service is second to none but I still don’t understand why it is ‘not applicable’ when it comes to hotels.

As a hotelier I wouldn’t think people with huge yearly contracts, investing in conference rooms and checking in dozens people almost every day of the year would validate distain for hotel guests.

This distain ignited a spark which has grown into some kind of ongoing battle that continues to rage to this day. Neither battle party is willing to give an inch.

This is a tension this is only going to continue to rage on as long as my quest for self amusement is filtered through my maturity.
Or more technically, lack thereof.

I check into hotels with camouflage paint on my face.

My game face.

The results of the tensions are note worthy for the humour value. The following is a short collection of the goings on in the timeless battle of good and evil.

More accurately a collection of things that have happened in the places I have stayed over the last two years.

Deity Liar-ism and Terrorist Response to Pubis.

Let me preface this anecdote with the disclosure of the following facts. Firstly, the movie Ghostbusters was filmed at the reported hotel. Secondly, there were five pubic hairs stuck to the roof of the bath room. Thirdly, we requested multiple times that the television and remote be serviced so to work predictably.

I was edgy because of the eerie feeling about the creepy hotel but officially fell out of love when, whilst ingesting mouthwash, I found myself eye to eye with an asshole hair.

Not just one ass hair, but a family of about five that had mystically migrated to the roof and were casually residing there.

These profiled in excess of one inch.

The situation elicited emotions similar to when you break up with a minger you have to work or live with. At first you try and block it out the sour pangs of hatred, then, nope. Open distain.

The anger came to head on a Tuesday night. We had passed the pubis in the hall a couple of times and averted eye contact. In the ultimate sign of verbal disrespect we would address the pubis:

“No eyes for pubis.”

And wear sunglasses when around the family of altitude asshole hairs.

The tension in the room was palpable.

This particular Tuesday in New York either there were no girls out or we couldn’t find them. As this is the primary night of our weekend our copious amount of girl-energies were looking to be dispensed.

Karaoke? No. Not the same as a well balanced and gracefully sexual, choreographed social interaction.

Instead of talking to girls we spoke amongst ourselves. This was mildly entertaining for a while but quickly presented itself as a no-sex outcome.

Yuk. Instead of dividing our drinking time amongst our girl talking time, the drinking time remained undivided. The former activity became the common denominator of the evening.

So much so that I found myself in a dilapidated schwarma house, behind the counter taking orders and serving people. I am unawares as to the causality of that situation.

Soon after, I debate French politics with some street squid at 3am. I remember a taxi driver threatening to drive over us.

No girls.

Pent up frustration.

So many hot girls on the weekend - not for us.

Doubly pent up frustration.

Instructor relaxing drinks time uncompromised by girl time.

Inhibited doubly pent up frustration.

Any crystal ball gazer at this stage would call for an evacuation.

It’s well documented that “IDGAFWATOM”, which is cool. However when this phenomenon is chemically tainted we have a situation where rules, laws and contracts no longer hold integrity in my consciousness.

Always a cause for concern. I mull over this on the trek back to the hotel.

We arrive at five AM.

I walked into the bathroom to wash the gritty schwarma residue out of my mouth.

Like a school bully hitting an innocent squid-bitch in the back of the head I was again hit with the asshole hair inches from my face.

I went into a state of shock and proceeded to seizure. What was worse however was my roommate found one in his bed.

He flipped the fuck out.

The TV was on from earlier on in the night.

Some fucking cunt was onscreen healing people by telling them to yell the names of deities, curing cancer, blindness and pregnancy by violently shaking them and commanding them to go in deities’ name.

These fucking hotel cunts.

When, during the check-in process, did we agree to fly fishing shit-hairs in and around my mouth and superstitious 5am liar-ism at 90 decibels?!

Before drinking the blood of a virgin unicorn and after hobnobbing about with a jovial leprechaun, obviously.

The alignment of stars at that time in that hotel room plunged us into a twilight realm where energy and rage dissipation exploded.
Events blurred together but the following definitely happened to the tune of 90 decibel deity liar-ism.

A barrage of sauced meats were thrown at the bathroom in an attempt to dislodge asshole hairs.

A picture frame believed to be associated with the asshole hairs was expelled from the room under suspicion of collusion. Expulsion occurred via the window.

My roommate experienced a state of Donky Kong like rage and beat the shit out of the roof causing it to cave in.

After this Kong-rage said roommate went into a seizure and involuntarily knocked over most of the furniture in the room. Full medical seizure, asshole hair now morally implicated.

Or there was asbestos in the medieval roof.

A lamp shade lay on the carpet. Seizure roommate arched his back over it, and in matrix bullet time proceeded to decorate it with high velocity chunks of schwarma. Turning it from cream colour to bile colour.

While attending to the seizure one of the roommates fought a rising urge to pee. In a concerted focus to not step in schwarma syrup on the way to the bathroom roommate momentarily forget about the pubis infestation and entered the bathroom.

The urination process was going smoothly until ceiling asshole hair was spotted again. From its place it knocked roommate off balance.

This was mid urination. All efforts were made to keep balance, avoid black curly hair and contain urine. Feasibility proved unobtainable. Urine all over white walls and carpet. Ass hair laughed vengefully.

Back in living room deity liar-ism is still pseudo healing amputees screaming blasphemy and what-not disturbing our peace. We make an effort to call reception to finally come and clean the roof and fix the TV. We need to sleep for - our own good and that of proximal infrastructure.

We dial 0 for reception. Nothing.

We dial 0 for reception. No response.

We dial an array of suggested hotel numbers. No response.

Phone unit is hurled against wall and broken in two, like a coconut.

Call is made from cordless hybrid half phone. No response.

In the interests of science we expel the half-phone from the room. Microsoft window style.

“No room for phone.” Disrespectful sentiments.

In a moment of clear headedness, I suggest that we eat away our drunkenness. However, I am a clever fucker and am very creative, especially when I am drunk.

The packet of trail mix made a great food suggestion and even better room-decoration ammunition. We started eating the trail mix, taking a moment to reflect on the battle zone at hand. While our destructive metabolisms slowed for a moment it provided an opportunity for the televangelists to flood our consciousness once again.

Fucking Squids.

Seemingly louder, deity preacher claims that a pregnant woman has been cured, that the demons have been absolved.

Trail mix hurled at the TV.

TV still broken.

Even though we hadn’t managed to contact reception someone starts to bang on the door.

My blood ran cold. I stopped for a moment to stock check that moment in my life.

Mattresses upturned to conceal floor vomit.

Tables upside down with vomit ‘stored’ in the drawers.

Trail mix embedded in the carpet, raisins everywhere.

Components of phone scattered around the room, phone missing but hand piece lying limp on the ground.

Hole in the roof, we could see into the room next door via another cavity in the roof.

Debris on the ground marking the crash zone, suspected asbestos contamination.

Lasagne hurled and stuck on the walls and carpet, garnished by haphazard urine.

Lamp shade covered in vomit, seemingly intentionally.

A rectangular dust shadow existed on the wall where a picture used to be.

Six am televangelist still screaming at the top of his lungs that ‘ye shall be received’.

And like a vulgar cherry on top of all of this the pubis still lodged on the bathroom roof. Looking down upon us, sneering, proud of its achievements.

Snap back to the situation at hand. Someone, presumably staff, is knocking on the door. Icy pangs of terror struck my heart. Not only was I going to be kicked out that night but I was going to be deported as well.

Green card: Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaahn.

I put a straight face, put on a clean robe, put a towel around my head to mask the traces of trail mix in my hair and confront the door inquiry, being sure not to let them see into or smell the room.

It was a hotel squid. He was wondering about the racquet and the banging. Seems they can make time to service the room when it suits them, but not when we needed the pubis removed.

I was in the right mind to serve him up some complaints then and there but for the time being I needed to buy time. This squid certainly had more to complain about than me.

I explained (fictitiously) that my friend was also Australian and was very religious and was not to be disturbed during this serious and spiritual time.

“Why is this going on at 5am!?” squid asked me.

“Oh, because its preach time right now in Australia. Time difference.” I told him authoritatively.

I asked him to bring sheets and leave them outside the room.

I walk back into the disaster site to find room mate passed out and liar-ism telling me the importance of submitting a denotation to deity with my credit card. Negative.

I wake up dude with water to face. I called for a red alert. Time to go national guard on this place, my travels depended on it.

Our clothes had been contaminated by the trail mix, bodily fluids and sauced meats cocktail. So we made togas and headdresses out of bed sheets.

Genius. It was oceans 11 all over again staring Caesar and Spartacus.

Sparta! HOO HAAA!

I unplug the television, who’d have thought? Problem solved.

We infiltrate some storage closet. And find some replacement furniture.

The one advantage of staying in hotels with pubic hair embedded in the roof is they also have lacklustre security surveillance systems.

We found the matching lamp shade. Check.

In the corridor we found a matching phone, although we had to use a paperclip to remove the security clasp attached. Check.

In the bathroom in the lobby I found matching roof tiles to replace ours. Check.

In a hallway we found a similar sized picture frame. This construction process was like playing the game ‘the Sims’.

We gather everything back to the room and move things back into place. Replace the missing pieces and gather the broken and bile stained problematic pieces in the corridor.

All the while we are tiptoeing around as if it were an integral part of the resurrection of the room. During the operation, which would forever be known as Operation Omega Uniform, we had heightened anxiety that would rival that of a WWII beach landing.

We had the room in some sort of order had landed, moved the beds over the places where the vomit had landed and closed the draw where the vomit was ‘stored’. All it needed now was a good vacuum and a professional touch.

Industrial strength detoxification would have been good too, but we had neither the time nor the olfactory capacity to realize it at that moment.

But what to do with the excess furniture? In this recovered state of reduced pent up no-girl-frustration we couldn’t justify more window action. So we approached the elevator.

We put everything in the elevator and pressed the buttons for all the levels. Gave it a salute and sent it off on its journey of Valhalla.

We slept and in the morning we consulted a maid. All the roommates collectively pooled our resources and decided to suck up the responsibility for the terrorist response to the roof-pubis.

We offered a maid what totalled the best part of a ‘Benjamin’ for her extra assistance and her confidentiality. She was flabbergasted, she looked as though Christmas had come early. In hindsight this was a good deed by us.

She did question us about the mess to which we explained that the bulimic girls we bought back to the hotel had a cycle of “binge and purge” during their stay.

The kind old housekeeper shook her head and laughed.

“Boys will be boys” She chuckled warm heartedly.

I though about this.

And realised that more of this was the way of the future. Amplified.

Everyone wins.

Except the fucking pubis.

Actually… no. It won.

Alexander~

Darth Hotel.

Let me first start by saying that this article is a testament to my maturation during the last year. I believe in honesty and transparency so here I have outlined the goings on of a certain time in my life. This is a snap shot of the guy I once was, and while it’s still embarrassing, I can say without a doubt I certainly had fun at the time.

**Do not try this at home**

Let me begin my recount by relating to you on a haphazard level. Do you know your friend, whom whenever you catch up with them you pull out all the screws and push yourself to your drunken limits?

This is a person whom when you catch up with, you feel you have a special license to let loose and inflict as much damage on yourself and everything around you as possible?

This is all of my friends.

Or maybe I just bring it out in them?

Realistically that’s probably it, for everyone I know I’m probably their inspiration to get messy and do things they will later to regret. Come on bootcamp and experience it firsthand.

I’m the guy that lives through the intentions of his inner child and inspires everyone to communicate with theirs. On more than one occasion I have harboured complete disregard for rules and expectations and bared the full brunt-wrath of the consequences.

Glory… story… whorey… handcuffs…all of the above.

Actions justified by the fun at the time or the retrospective story.

Well, imagine, that all my friends, whom inspire the worst in me lived at all corners of the globe.

And then image they all were all congregated into one place.

Place equals fucked.

Add self grandeur and legitimate achievement into the broth and you have a turbocharged situation teetering on the brink of combustion.

Situation equals fucked.

I love it.

So it was a couple of months ago that all my closest and most reckless friends had been summoned to the Darth Hotel.

Matters were bad enough to begin with… but like that movie ‘the great escape’ the hotel had agreed to house the best of the debaucherous best. A dream team of anti-harmony concentrated under one roof.

I was compelled to live in alignment with the man I am supposed to be and gather the troops. It took a brave soul to do this because it would be that brave soul that shouldered the consequences.

I am brave like a chauvinist wearing a ‘make me my dinner shirt’ at a Germaine Greer rally.

But I couldn’t resist the urge, someone had to step up and I am the nuRSD.

We were euphoric enough to begin with after a successful filming. I had spent the week seeing how many girls I could close from five dates and had enough of small talk and looked forward to again communicating in grunts.

The ignition of the fateful chain of events was at the downstairs bar where we all gathered. I was upstairs trying on some cool clothes one of my colleges generously donated to me while my phone was buzzing out of my pocket with requests from several different guys asking me to join them for the drinks they had already bought me.

I’m a social guy, how could I disappoint?

I’m also a homeless guy. Over the past five months I had been staying with each of these guys separately and I was in a lot of ways a common social hub for guys who hadn’t met. And, like I said above, I am the excuse for my hosts to get reckless when I go to visit.

Connotatively inspiring retrospective misbehaviour.

Up until this point in life I didn’t own a credit card and I didn’t have it on record as a deposit for the hotel room. I thought I could just drink freely from the minbar and eat whatever I wanted from room service.

Everyone is fiscally smarter in hindsight.

After fashion times I made my way down stairs with two travellers (for the elevator trip) to find all the crew waiting for me. I sat, socialised and fulfilled my commitments of re-hydration.

After some time it was obvious we needed to capture the flag. I was sure others’ were experiencing the same instincts but others looked at me confused, at first, then exited.

We had been using the conference rooms so we had access to the other ones as well. Myself and Saadie started to poke around in there and found a room with millions of dollars worth of audio video equipment ready for the plundering.

It was Aladdin’s cave, Saad was Aladdin and I was the genie making shit materialise out of thin air. The monkey in the story was the monkey on my back.

As much as we wanted to take the abundant equipment for larger-scale webcam-like activities with our girls we resigned ourselves to the fact that if we touched this stuff we would probably die, like Aladdin’s cave we needed to resist temptation.

So we did the next best thing and stole an American flag. Awesome. We were victorious. We marched Oompa Looma style victoriously balancing the flag pole over our shoulders with drinks still in hand.

We sing: OOOOOHHH EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HUMMMMMMMMM, OOOOOOOOOOH-EEEEEE-UM.

We make sure our crew can hear us before we get there so that they are cheering by the time we arrive. We get great cheers and everyone gathers around the bounty.

But alas, some surgeon (roughly translated: a try hard with high pants) and wench-patron dining at the bar try to intervene. He explains that the flag is part of some conference he’s organising and it’s very important.

We are not willing to give up our hard fought territory so quickly and make him chase us a little bit. He likes our horse play and wants to join in because he is gay. There are some benefits of being professionally attractive. Gay admiration.

Jeffy, always the soldier of death, jumps on the wench-grenade. God bless his soul. I think he licked her face.

Some say that the psychological effects of war are irreversible.

Only time will tell.

The flag is returned to gay conference guy after he touches me in an ‘invasion of my personal space’. I feel queer and return to the bar and try to prevent myself from getting a reputation of ‘ungrateful’ by indulging in the drinks my friends have, as they describe, ‘invested’ in me.

Could they be encouraging me?

While reading this stop for a moment to comprehend the reality of the situation. There are about twenty five guys from the best pick up company on the planet who have just seen the best pick up seminar ever recorded. Between all of us, except me, there is an air of rivalry and guys trying to prove themself.

But there is only one decent set in the hotel bar.

It’s a solitary line of coke at a prostitute after party.

And it wasn’t just any set, the girl was a former playboy pin up girl, or so she claimed. It could well be true, we were at a high profile hotel in Los Angeles and she was genuinely drop-dead gorgeous for a twenty four-something aged brunette.

Understand as well, amongst the group there are the guys who have reputations for being good with girls and have nothing left to prove. And there are guys who are desperate to ‘get in’. These guys are friends-of-friends and somehow got involved in what would otherwise be a private company after party.

I was more interested in running amok with the boys than proving anything but I was having fun watching these guys have a crack at the girl in an attempt prove themselves. The particular guy going for the girl seemed innocent enough, as always we were friendly to him.

I was friendly until he attempted to convince me that he should be doing my job and argued how I was doing it wrong. He attempted to advise the company CEOs on how to run the company and qualified himself continually. He tried to entertain me with magic tricks.

I asked him if he was kidding? I was not kidding when I asked this.

He said “alakazam!” and fluttered his fingers.

“No eyes for Copperfield.” I concluded.

I maintained my professionalism, he wasn’t hurting anyone, plus he wasn’t a part of the company so it wasn’t my responsibility. But his constipated Copperfieldism he was using on the girls was entertaining me.

I have one friend called Derrick. Guys who know me know me will know who this is. In my opinion this guy is the best in the world. Best in terms of numbers and best in terms of quality. Why?

He has done programs with Jeffy, Tyler AND Me.

I was with him the other week in the Upper Mid West when, in an angelic voice, he dropped this line on an Ivory schooled businesswoman in a silent and populated elevator:

“My my, aren’t you just an adorable little kitten…I would just love to fuck you up the ass behind a dumpster like the crack whore you are.”

Abercrombie were hysterical and urinated involuntarily a little bit.

So Derrick was there that night. Derrick ain’t no validation seeker, he’s a guy who knows what he wants and generates the resources to make it happen. He likes to be in the company of guys who have and teach great game.

He only fucks the hottest girls.

I was sitting nearby him giggling to myself when he noticed my apparently psychosomatic infliction. He questioned what was wrong.

I motioned to the David Copperfield show and he noticed the babe.

He said it was a disgusting display of homosexuality and that the girl needed some real game. He stopped and ran the cogs in his head for a moment and said he needed me to wing him, because I am the best.

I looked at the wing target and adamantly said “no way”.

This woman looked like the mummified version of Cleopatra. She was anno- ancient Egyptian trash dressed in a Merry Kate Olsen Halloween costume. Derrick would later figure out they were mother and daughter and were celebrating that night with lots of drinks after a medical procedure.

Derrick pleaded with me to wing. At first I held true to my position and then he questioned my loyalty to him as a mate. My attitude turned from self serving to charitable.

He sealed the deal by convincing me that I could do it if I were drunk, courtesy of his sponsorship.

This is when faeces were thrown upwards towards a fan, impacted, decimated into a million pieces and come flitting back down onto all of us.

Shit hit the fan. Enter the trenches.

I said I would be in soon and Derrick approached the set. Upon arriving, without speaking he pushed Copperfield aside with a swift combination of choke hold and thrust. Copperfield attempted some AMOG bullshit from the days of black and white TV and was soon dismissed teary eyed.

I had done my duty and got myself compromised enough to wing this elder-fossil, I approached the set including Derrick who were immediately receptive to me, but when I arrived I broke into hysterical laugher at the new stimulus I had was exposed to.

Ever heard the saying, ‘good from far, but far from good’? Well this was Halloween from far and nausea up close. I took another sip of my drink… I knew if I was going to be involved with this I needed to get myself worked up and buy some time.

I ejected, Derrick was pissed. We texted boy talk back and forth, explained my situation and told him I would need to be near blind to help him out, but that he could trust me. Throughout the night he would keep me updated on his progress. Copperfield had since vanished himself.

So everyone had gathered around the bar and was getting a little rowdy, most of the guys were about twenty one. I knew I had to get the party started so I made an announcement…

HOTEL OLYMPICS!!!!

All the kids’ ears perked up and like the pied piper I lead them upstairs to the executive lounge. All this was a guise for my need to compromise my senses to help out a friend in need. In the executive lounge we found a massive bowl of apples, a microwave, lots of coffee facilities and a potential refuge location. I made a conscious note of this knowing that a good escape plan might be born of necessity very soon.

A subplot to this story is that of two guys who had assigned a problematic room by Darth Hotel that had been priority-dissed by admin during their stay there.

In their room the flush facility on their toilet was broken. At first the calls were made requesting assistance but divine administrative intervention never came. Initially alternate bathrooms were used in the hotel, until the inconvenience could no longer be tolerated. The toilet was nested.

Over the course of five days the toilet was used as per normal, but not flushed. Each faecal episode added another layer of putrification to the excrement lasagne. The guys were pissed to say the least, or more to the point they were living with it. They were vengeful. Still to this day I don’t understand why a plumber couldn’t be organised?

If I was the colonel in the spiritual hotel holy war, these two were the generals, all star players.

One of them though it clever to prepare a dish of ‘metal milk jug’ in the microwave oven. I chuckled at the notion and said “You’re crazy, you won’t do it”.

“Crazy like a fox!” he said foxily, his eyes lighting up. We crowded around to see if he would really do it. Peer pressure is a terrible motivator.

We had all gathered handfuls of apples and were poised to run should he perform the fox-like manoeuvre.

He placed the metal jug full of milk in the microwave, dialled the power setting and cued the time for 60 seconds. Sufficient time to do some serious microwave exploding damage.He moved to arms length of the apparatus and poised himself ready to run, positioned the ignition finger and looked around at each of us with a gleam in his eye.

Crazy motherfucker pressed the button. With a hum, then a sparkle then a small explosion we ran as though Charlie was in the trees.

The reality was actually worse than a Vietnam war metaphor, an alarm went off and security was only moments away, hearts racing, mummified slut long forgotten I thought quickly and creatively and lead the squadron of apple toting warriors to the fire escape and up to the roof.

I figured we could lay low for a while up top. But patience ran short and creativity soon kicked in. The group of us all engaged in a ‘who can throw the apple the furthest’ competition. It was going pretty sportingly until we found the car park on the other side of the hotel.

All it took was a dare and accusation of ‘little bitch’ before I had guys inspired to try and throw over the car park.

This was an awesome game. But if I was honest we had much more fun throwing the apples at the cars.

In the dead of night, chilled quiet air and nothing but a starry night sky above you, all you can hear is pure silence as an apple suicides maliciously through the air.

Upon apple release everyone goes silent, then with a tinny SMASH impact is made. And laughter is also made.

Simple pleasures in life.

Each car we hit had a different car alarm, after only a few minutes we had an orchestra of electronic whining and screeching piercing the night.

It was fire in the crypt.

I contemplated the notion of fingerprint recognition on a disembowelled apple and concluded the fun was worth the risk. I re-concluded that customs had fingerprinted me days before. I summarised that I am invincible so it wouldn’t really matter. Then I looked at a photo of myself in my phone and felt good.

I was in the middle of telling one of the brave crew that I was the best apple thrower when we heard a foreign voice yell with fury in the crypt “WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP HERE!”

Yes, to our terror this fiend had an Agent Smith ear piece. He came from some service elevator, so we ran back down the fire escape to the room that was to become known as ‘ground central’. I was under the misconceived perception that ground central was booked without a credit card.

I also thought I was invincible.

Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn. I felt like I was winning up until that point in time.

Motivated by terror we descended down the fire escape and to our surprise we came across Copperfield from earlier on in the night. He was crying something about ‘she was my girl’.

I invited him to escape with us but he said he had to self punish. He was acting like a house elf so I desisted and left him to Copperfield the night away.

I asked him if he could make the pursuing Agent Smiths disappear like the pens he had vanished earlier, but I didn’t wait around for a reply.

Copperfield was a fresh reminder to me of my primary plan that night. Get myself into a state where I MIGHT be capable of winging out elder hoe.

With some hallway apple throwing by the crew we arrive at delta checkpoint ground central.

My friend asks me a trivial question. I answer coherently.

Need to stitch more brain cells

I feel guilty that I’m still in state that might let my friend down. But I do feel pretty good for successfully escaping Smithchode and leading the team to safety.

In Ground Central I consult the minibar for drinks, but it seems to be locked. A challenging conundrum. The room has already been decimated by various fiascos and general habituation. Chairs are upturned, clothes are everywhere, beds unmade. Disaster zone.

Still on high alert highly aware of the microwave experience and the rooftop debacle I know I need alcohol to fulfil my solemn duties for my friend. With the minibar locked the creative mastermind in me comes out and I make the call to room service.

No dial tone…I discover there is no phone on the end of the handset chord. Doesn’t take a rocket surgeon to figure that’s why it’s not dialling. I plug him in. Still no dial tone. Phone not plugged into the wall. I remember we used this phone as the central prop in the infamous ‘dick phone’ routine earlier that week.

In an ingenious display of sexual intent you approach a girl in the club prepared for the routine. Open with “hey you have a phone call” and pass her the handset. The girl then takes the phone bewildered. Girls usually put it to their head as though they expect to hear a voice coming out of a disconnected phone.

At the height of her confusion you step back and allow the twirly chord between you and her to extend. To her delight she sees the other end of the twirly phone cord is zipped into your fly. Try this at home.

This is an exception to the no twirly routine policy.

At this point I spontaneously explode and am incensed by the fact that Derrick will have to fend for himself. I stark knocking shit over and yell at people out the window strolling down the road. The anxiety was building in me in a similar to the way you feel more and more under pressure as the clock ticks down towards the end of an exam.

With the phone broken how would I contact reception to get them to electronically unlock the minibar? I couldn’t go in person and I especially didn’t want to risk them hearing my Australian accent and identifying me as the microwave facilitator, roof Olympian or flag thief.

The hotel was essentially saying to me “Alex, time to quit the mayhem, no fridge for you.”

“Wrong answer bitch!” I said to the hotel. They will learn. I made the toilet into a coffee facility by putting the coffee in the top. Chef Ramsey like.

By this stage I was in full Tasmanian devil mode, the crew was becoming concerned for my own wellbeing. They didn’t understand the internal angst that I was suffering, how could they understand? I made a promise and actions needed to be taken to fulfil this promise.

When I was in the bathroom cooking up a ‘toilet coffee’ my friends though it be best that they lock me in there until I calmed down. At first I was ultra distressed about this confinement, further putting the stops on my plan of heroic winging. But, this gave me an opportunity to redecorate the room.

Towels: gaaaaaaahn. Bathroom condiments: toilet coffee garnish. Shower curtain, transformed into a cape, wastepaper basket: a Helmut. Some fashion thingy became my trident and the wall art became my shield. I am the ultimate bathroom combatant, beware interlopers.

I go quiet and my crew wonder what’s going on in my confined space after the initial hurricane of crashes and banging. They open the doors to find me dressed for Darth Hotel battle and break out in hysterics again. They take the liberty of photographing the historic coming of age event.

They agree to let me out, realising that I have gone beyond the point of no return and are now simply amused by the antics. They give me the token warning that I shouldn’t be potentially ruining my future, inspiring my deportation et cetera, et cetera, but if they really wanted me to stop they would have stopped me. I think they enjoyed the show.

With a clearer head I return the fridge fortress, I examine it Jack Bower style from ‘24’ and investigate the power source and the locking mechanism.

Hrrrrm, formidable I think to myself, hulk like rage swelling in my veins again.

One of the other guys suggests that I use the hotel phone we didn’t use to help us pick up girls, stumbling over a chair I make the call while lying on the ground.

As the receptionist answers the phone I realise I have made a rookie mistake that could cost me my nuts. If he hears my Australian accent he will recognise me and torture me! Like we always say about being present, when you have an empty head creativity will come to you.

For no apparent reason I produce the best Scottish accent you have ever heard. I am a Steven Hawkins smart and Chuck Norris innovative.

Receptionist: “Room service express this is Allen how may I help you?”

Alex scottish: “Ello, eeets mierser Ellen Ere, kud you pleiise Fux mai Foooking Frudge!”

Receptionist: “Excuse me?!…. what’s the problem with it?!”

Alex Scottish: “I kennot git it orpen, im fooking theirsty.”

Receptionist: “One moment…we’re sending someone right up, stay in the room”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Agent Smith’s now know what room we’re in and they will be here soon. I have led the crew into a dire situation. Shit.

I race back to the bar and with pure will power I open the door!

Great success!

There are some power cords and stuff that are broken and an alarm going off but it’s ok.

I detach the computer thing from the fridge and toss it away. Like the discovery of the Holy Grail light pours out of the fridge and we are free to revel in the spoils. Vodka, rum, whisky, it’s all there. At last I feel some relief that I am back on task and on my way to helping Derrick.

We need to get out of the room fast. Smith is on the way as we speak probably with law enforcement. I write a note on the window for him with soap that I can’t publish here. Analysis of my handwriting would suggest that I am very intelligent but slightly whimsical.

With the contents of the minibar in our possession we go back to the roof where we can escape down one of any of the six fire escapes and return to any room. We are running hard. We have one room unbeknownst to the hotel administration that came to be referred to as ‘higher ground’. This was the room with the broken toilet. It was in good enough shape to stay in except for the fact that someone had put pornographic stickers on the wall and the toilet was blocked. The room looked like a place where an innocent person would stay.

We get to the roof, cross to the other side of the hotel and down the other fire escape, through the door and into an intersection of corridors. We are running but hear a noise and instantly freeze. We hear people running towards us, it must be Agent Smiths.

This time there is nowhere to hide. If they saw us running they would know we were guilty of flag-capture, microwavation, minibar destruction, prank calling reception and roof invasion.

In a moment of Ryan genius he advises us all to put on exotic accents as none of us have used that yet. I don’t know what an exotic accent is except for the Warner Brother’s Speedy Gonzalez so I just say “honedley, hepah! Aribah- aribah!”I still don’t know any exotic language.

The security guards and a valet guy run into sight of us casually walking down the corridor and in a moment of truth they look us over. I say “honedley, hepah! Aribah- aribah!” They look confused and aggressive!

Ryan takes over heroically.

“Why are you guys running in the corridors?! YOU COULD HURT THE GUESTS?!” He accuses them.

“Oh sorry sir, were looking for some guys who have been trespassing on the roof and stealing cars”

Oh fuck, Grand Theft Auto, I think.

Ryan continues.

“Oh! We saw those guys! Why the fuck did you let these criminals into the hotel, aren’t you supposed to be security?!They told us not to say they we saw them, they just went that way, he was wearing at hat.”

I make note to give Ryan a blowjob later.

“Oh sorry sir, we thought they were guests, we are taking care of that right away, thanks for your assistance!”

And they run off down the corridor. At this point I am sweating bullets and shitting bricks. Grand Theft Auto!? Must have concluded that because of the car alarms. This shit was getting serious. I got a message tone meaning I got a text from Derrick.

Once the security guys are out of sight we quicken our pace. But moments later we hear running coming from the direction the Agent Smiths had just left in.

“HEY WAIT-A-MINNIT! WHO ARE YOU GUYS!”

OH FUCK.

BAIL. Agent smiths come charging back

The crew scatters in all different directions, I don’t look back.

I find myself running solo, hitting a different fire escape, descending, traversing then ascending again to the room known as ‘higher ground’. The crew texts me saying that they got away from the fat fuck donut eating security chodes.

I text them back saying that I made it to ‘higher ground’ and that I’m safe all except for my olfactory capacity. Nathan is staying in the room and is just chilling out working on his program. Respect. I make a note to model maturity from him. I check my phone and find that Derrick has texted the room number of mother daughter two set saying that he was in the room with them now, his girl was ready to go, but I had to occupy cock-blocking Egyptian femme.

I’m still too sober to go down there yet. I test my coherence with some soap window writing and some milk to mirror target practise. To my own surprise I’m still very much together. It must be a case of adrenaline and all the running in the fire escapes. I chug hard the ground central bounty and sample some of my own minibar’s wares. I’m almost ready to bring some gold standard winging.

At this point my memory becomes fragmented so some of my recount is quotes from others.

During my noble self-compromise-for-the-good-of- a friend session Nathan’s phone rings.

He recalls (jovially) his phone call to Derrick Thus (and he insists that I recall it this way to which I am happily obliged):

Nathan: “Dude, wassup?”

Derrick: “Where’s Alex?”

Nathan looks around the room to see me drinking straight vodka while simultaneously using the fifteenth story window as an alternative to the broken toilet.

Nathan, diplomatically: “I’m sending RSD’s finest now.”

Click. Nathan recounts the phone conversation to me. I change clothes for the purposes of disguise and go barefoot in case I need to run then down I go. I take a traveller just for thoroughness.

I arrive at the room, buzzed but I can still speak, vision is blurred. After all our fiascos I am definitely going to come through for Derrick, he has done so well to get the girls back to their room so far even with wrinkle-slut trying to forebode his glorytimes.

It’s so weird to see a version of our rooms but all neat and tidy. In their room they have some ‘get well soon’ balloons.

But there, on their desk was an oasis in the middle of an outback desert. A massive cooler filled with ice and about twenty bottles of Heineken.

This was good for two reasons. One, I love beer and two the elder woman was still dry wretch inspiring even with blurred vision
and unstifled intentions, the Heineken would help to completely delete my vision if I was going to do this.

Derrick’s girl was wearing little bang shorts now and he had obviously already been fooling around with her. She was smoking fucking hot in her more comfortable room attire. I was definitely going to come through and take this one for the team for the good of his blood sausage.

Little hottie was friendly and introduced me to her mom who was very drunk in her bed. I dry wretched again at the sight of her but stayed strong. Dale said to just talk to her and occupy her while he closed his girl over counter in the bathroom. I’m sure I could manage that, I liked the idea of not having to fornicate the scarecrow.

With Derrick and his girl behind closed doors in the bathroom I was left with the woman who had discovered I had an accent. On hearing her talk I was reminded of the game show contestants on the Jerry Springer Show that I had watched back in Australia. That’s what I was dealing with.

For no apparent reason she was under the impression that she was God’s gift to men. Maybe she once was but she certainly wasn’t now. She began to racially insult me and my nationality. Bitch. At first I thought it was kind of cute, but I soon realised it was just trashy drunk talk from an idiot.

The woman could barely move, she was lying under the covers still in her Mary-Kate Olsen uniform. She didn’t relent with the cultural insults and targeted the late Steve Irwin. What the fuck was this blasphemy?!

Her speech was merely a drunken slur and her eyes were kinda rolling around a lot. Alex hatched a plot.

I continued to weather her verbal barbs while I proceeded to tuck her into her bed. Unfortunately this did in fact elicit sexual responses from her. While I was manoeuvring the sheets all around the Salem-Special she began to ask me if Australians are good kissers and how old was the oldest woman I have ever been with. She told me she was only thirty seven as though she were bragging. I would have guessed forty five. More hazards of being professionally attractive.

I tucked her into the bed in a way that she couldn’t move. Her head was above the covers and the rest of her body was underneath, she couldn’t move to begin with, now she certainly wouldn’t move while I executed the second part of my plot. All the while she was running her mouth about how I was welcome to spend the night but not sleep with her and that the girls my age didn’t know their “socks from their box.”

With Derrick in the bathroom I picked up the cooler with the beer. I turned on the TV to drown out the Springer-Slur coming from the MIWLF. I turned out the lights and last I heard were squeals and grunts coming from the bathroom. Wingman deluxe strikes again, Derrick closed playgirl, Alex avoided Agent Smith wrath and collected the pot of gold (Heineken) at the end of the rainbow.

I make my way to the elevator I must say I felt pretty fucking pleased with myself. I was breathing easy apart from the hefty weight of my bounty.

Recklessly I forgot to press my floor number in the elevator and wound up in the lobby.

FUCK!

From the elevator I could see the same security guards and the valet guys whom we had narrowly missed in the corridor earlier that night. In my ingenious ‘blind enough to wing hoe’ state I decided I needed to hide and did this by running into the lobby bathroom. Could have just closed the elevator doors and gone upstairs. Nope. I panicked.

Cowering in the lobby cubicle at three am I feared my imminent capture and the confiscation of my liberty.
What was I going to do?! I only know what happened next in light of what I discovered the next morning.

I remember thinking I needed a disguise. That was the only way I would escape. I was worried that elder woman might have been discovered by her daughter and called reception to track me down for talking dirty and sampling all of her Heineken oasis. I feared they would identify me by my accent and by my clothes.

The next morning I woke up at seven am in a world of pain. I was naked, sleeping on the floor of my room having not even made it to my bed, Heineken bottle next to me.

I began to piece together what might have happened. I found the clothes I was wearing but not the Heineken cooler in the bathroom where I had last remembered being.

Nathan told me that when I came back into the room I was naked, and in a slurred frantic explanation I told him that I was disguised so that no Agent Smiths would recognise me. In my brain at the time I must have concluded that taking of the clothes the Smiths would not recognise me and it would be a good way to evade their attention.

I’m told I ran though the lobby naked holding my key card and beer, rode the elevator with people naked, then ran to my room naked, safe but not able to make it to the bed.

Darth Hotel Epilogue.

In hindsight some of the historical events of that night could have landed me in some seriously hot water. As it turns out the water was only extremely warm.

The next day I went down to lunch and found all the crew from the night before. I was met with a hero’s welcome.

I didn’t remember much from the night before but as the other’s retold the stories to my disbelief I slowly pieced things back together.

The evidence of the damage itself and the photos and videos of me in action were proof enough. My blood ran cold. It was time to get busy and clean some shit up.

I managed to fix all the superficial things, but there was some hardcore structural damage that cost me badly. Ie, broken fridge, something about apples and cars.

The repercussions of this was a fine so hefty that when I arrived in Europe a few days later I couldn’t afford to buy the warm clothes I needed which really stung in a Scandinavian December.

If there was a moral to these stories let it be this. Roll this dice and trust yourself. Don’t set out with malicious intentions, I never do, but I do like to mix things up a little.

Although you do have to take responsibility for your actions every time you throw down some self assurance and some unpredictability something will come of it.

There are a lot of guys out there who forget the value of the internal centeredness that comes from experience in turbulent situations. The indifference you get to the game and social interactions themself when you have been through some risky, dangerous or self compromising activities.

When I say I got into some extremely warm water over this my company superiors were very disappointed in my lack of self control. Little did I know I was flirting perilously close with being sent back to Australia.

It was embarrassing to disappoint people who had invested faith in me. In response to this they sent me off to the Europe tour of doom in winter to develop some maturity.

Did I mature? I can certainly say that I have grown exponentially during the European scary tour called the ‘winter of paradise’ and I feel like I came into my own as a man as though it was a right of passage.

Will I do these silly reckless hotel and self destructive things again?

Yep.

But next time I will know how to get away with it.

Pass me my war paint.

Alexander~

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HEY EVERYONE!

‘Scuse me, ‘scuse me!

So, I have been neck deep in trying to figure out any type of video editing program for the last two months and it has seriously drained my life. Hence the lack of blog posts.

But, I have been gathering some sick-as new material for the natural superconference and the upcoming free speech tours that I am scheduled to ROCK!

They should change the names of these funky events to free parties instead of speeches. It’s a more accurate reflection of the actual goings on. We originally envisioned very studious academic situations of rumination.

Now: it’s like going to see an awesome movie that leaves you thinking… and changes your outlook on life.
So due to the absence of my writing I’m giving out the glory academia that’s guaranteed to take you from club to bedroom with every girl you meet.

“Sixty per-cent of the time it works every time.”

Allegedly.

Nooooooo. It’s actually the Real Social Dynamics latest and greatest take on phone game.

Which, although only partially a black and white ‘how to’ guide, will help you massively tune up your game to link the meet to the close and then ultimately the potential relationship if that’s your thing.

This article, unlike any other article published on phone game comes from a perspective of natural nuRSD style.

Coming from the right place.

Let me start by first stating the importance of coming from the right place. This place is where you can find guys who respect themselves and value their opinions of themself higher than others’ opinions of themself.

This mindset makes you the highest value person in your reality. Others around you play subordinate roles in the highlight reel that is your life. If you are the main dish they are the garnishes.

Sweetening and enriching your experience, but never at the expense of your own path and regard.

Remember when we talk natural game I can’t stress strongly enough the reiteration of the GOLDEN RULE.

“Whatever you feel, she feels.”

Whenever you have an influence on her reality, her perceptual experience of the world, what you feel will play a role in the constitution of her state.

If you’re a cool carefree guy who’s coming from the right place you always feel good because you live in the now.

Luckily you’re also a man who has the almost magical ability to draw state from within. So stop being the victim, ‘harden the fuck up’ and take responsibility of your state and look on the bright side.

You are at the helm of your own reality, steer it in a constructive direction and others will follow.

Referring to the interaction itself I used to hear a lot of girls use the terminology ‘you’re in’. Which I eventually figured out meant that she likes you.

‘You’re in’ means that she considers you a sexworthy guy.

Once ‘you’re in’ it’s only a matter of time and logistics until physical intimacy occurs. Whether or not this intimacy ever arises depends on your dedication to the interaction, how far you’re willing to take it.

A lot of guys don’t even call the number, make the effort to set the date, endure flakes, or go on a second date to encounter the physicality. With the phone game/dating game responsibility for things moving forward need to be facilitated by you – the man.

In terms of the interaction in person and on the phone at no time do I deviate from my reality that everyone loves me. Why wouldn’t they? I offer value, don’t take any without asking nicely and I’m usually fun or self destructively entertaining to be around.

Strong perception equates to strong reality, so spread the love.

Furthermore this means staying true to myself and not attempting to ‘work’ the people I hang with. When I talk to grandma she
loves me, when I talk to turbo club bitch it’s in my reality that she loves me too. If there is any misunderstanding I will help non-believers learn.