Month: August 2019

It was a cold Russian winter with long and freezing nights and short days when you wouldn’t want to go out of the building unless you had to. I was sitting in the office in front of my computer. The year was 2001 and my dreams were just crushed a few months ago by 9/11 terrorist attack.

In the beginning of the year, after an intense series of interview I got a job at the US consulting bodyshop, got a job offer and obtained H1B visa for me and an accompanying visa for my wife. We were going to go to the land of free and build a new life for ourselves. Until we weren’t.

The company informed me that due to the 9/11 events they won’t be sponsoring my relocation to the USA and that my services were no longer required.

At the age of 25 I was slowly but steadily developing my career as software engineer and just joined a consulting company that had solid contracts in the public sector. I was an early adopter of what will become a mainstream years later – agile methodology. I was earning a professional respect of my boss and my peers and, as a result, I was first to be put on a research projects for new and upcoming technologies.

On this cold winter day, I was online, reading somewhat outlandish stuff on a website called The Programmer Stone. It was dedicated to exploring the ideas on why some programmers suck while others don’t. On one of the pages, and I don’t quite recall the context, the author of this site posted a link to the place where “sad people use NLP to trigger female mating instinct”. It was Ross Jeffries’ Speed Seduction website.

I think he was selling it at a time but with my hacker skills I pirated it in no time. Magnum opus “How to Get the Women You Desire into Bed.” The only woman I desired to get into bed was my wife. I spent the rest of the afternoon devouring the book anyway. Although I thought it was an interesting read, I quickly dismissed it as bullshit. But the seed was planted.

Between 2012 and 2014 I kept working on my business but Google’s algorithm changes named after various animals (Panda and Penguin specifically) made my work really hard. It mostly hurt sales because customers were freaking out by the possibility of “Google penalties.” I shifted most of my focus on a software project we started with T. and, unsurprisingly, SEO business soon took a nosedive.

I was pumping all revenue back into business and, dumb-dumb-dumb, started to use credit cards to pay for some living expenses. It didn’t take long for me to find myself in the corner. I swallowed my pride, went on a job market and, in the middle of 2014, I had a steady contact with a good daily rate and a weekly paycheck. I kept running SEO business in the background, hoping for a miracle.

My and my wife’s relatives were pestering us for years to come and visit them in Russia but I was still full of hope I could recover my business. So, at around October 2014 I sent my wife and my daughter to Russia while I stayed at Sydney and worked. They stayed till November so my daughter could see the real snow.

Then, at around February 2015, my wife dropped the ultimate shit test of our marriage. She insisted I go to Cebu City for a holiday. Alone.

And alone I went. This time I was prepared.

To be continued…

Philippines is a magical place for a white guy. As soon as you step off the plane, you are tall, rich, handsome and your dick is bigger.

Back in 2012 I didn’t realise I was at the very peak of my SMV. I was 36-year-old guy in the best shape of my life after five years of crossfitting, no grey hair and a successful business under my belt.

And in Philippines it all gets multiplied tenfold.

Suddenly I was a prize. Suddenly women of all ages were giving me IOIs so obvious a blind man would notice (and I was that blind man at a time). Suddenly I started to get a tingling feeling that I might have more value that I ascribed to myself.

Me and T. had one night remaining before catching a plane back to Australia and T. suggested we go to a go-go bar for some drinks. We picked Arena KTV – the biggest, most expensive and the dodgiest go-go bar in North Reclamation Area we were promised had all the hottest girls Cebu had to offer.

Let me tell you a little bit about go-go bars (also called KTV or bikini bars) in Cebu. This is strictly how it works in this city and it is different in Manila. The closest Western equivalent is a strip club with two major differences. Firstly, there is no stripping. Girls are wearing bikinis. And secondly, it’s a whore house.

Officially prostitution is illegal in Philippines but the government turns the blind eye because they know if they crack down, the families are going to starve. However, they impose some regulations and the girls in go-go bars have to do weekly STD tests, which puts them one step above the street walkers.

Some go-go bars, and Arena is one of them, have a cover charge of 10 dollars or close but the majority is free to go to. As you walk in, you sit on a couch or at the bar and watch girls’ lame attempts at pole dancing. Drinks are usually more expensive comparing to normal bars.

After that you have two options. You can either call a mamasan (an older woman who manages the girls) and tell her which girl you like or you can call for a line-up. Actually no, you have a third option. You can finish your drink and leave.

Line-up is a very weird experience if you never done it before. Basically, all the girls in the bar come to your couch and line up so you could pick your lady of the night. Then she stays with you and the rest go back to their dancing routine. After this, it’s the same as if you asked a mamasan for a girl.

Next step in this ritual is to buy girl a “lady drink” or two and shoot shit with her to see if you want to bang her or not. “Lady drink” is usually a tequila shot and it cost double of the normal drink or more because a girl makes a commission on a sale.

If you decide to bang a girl, you pay a “bar fine”. In Cebu bar fine is all-inclusive. This means you pay to take a girl out of the bar and do whatever activities you want to do (go to a nightclub and hang out, for example) and then bang her. After that she can stay or leave. Up to a girl. You can take her number and arrange a private deal later but she can get in trouble with the mamasan if they find out.

If you decide to give it a miss, you can do another line-up and pick another girl. Or bugger off to another go-go bar or whatever.

There is a whole school of gaming pros in Philippines called “shoring”. It means gaming and banging hookers for free. I’ve never done it but you can certainly buy a “lady drink” and, then, secretly slip your number to a girl. She will text you, trust me. Do it in every go-go bar on the street and you have a solid number farm. Just don’t get caught.

Arena didn’t have a line-up. There were too many girls, way too many. And they were all hot. The promise of the hottest girls in Cebu was fulfilled. They were standing all around the area, near the bar looking pretty. In the middle of the room there was a podium that looked like a fashion show podium where girls were going one by one in bikini to show off their goodies. Girls not on a stage were dressed in sexy outfits but weren’t half naked.

T. quickly picked his girl at the bar and we sat on a couch. Drinks started to pour when I saw a tall skinny girl with the body to die for on a podium. I called a staff member and pointer my finger, “Her!”

No picture, because hookers don’t count

After settling the bar tab and bar fines we jump into a taxi to the hotel on Mactan Island we booked for the last night. It had a nice outdoor bar area. T. started a bar tab and we were drinking and chatting with the girls. Oh, boy. The one I picked was so hot… and so dumb. Her go-to phrase was “Oh… OK.”

In the middle of our drinking session the car had arrived and two girls in bikinis came out. They looked like supermodels from the magazine page. They immediately jumped into jacuzzi and started to shoot selfies and pictures of each other.

In a few minutes a motorboat had arrived to the shore. Bar staff loaded a few boxes of alcohol and two jacuzzi chicks jumped right in. And then, in the dark, we noticed a huge yacht anchored near the beach. The motorboat headed towards the yacht.

T. asked the waitress, “Do you know who is this?”

“It is a friend of the owner, sir”

We finished our drinks and went to our rooms to bang girls.

The sex was uninspiring. I couldn’t finish in condom so I said I was going to take it off.

“Oh… OK,” she replied.

I pulled out and finished on her belly. She took a shower and left promptly.

I was falling down fast. Now I banged a hooker.

In a plane back to Sydney I was freaking out. Can T. keep a secret? What if I got STD? What if, what if, what if.

None of that was going to happened. Instead I slipped backed into my ignorant blue pilled bliss for another three years.

To be continued…

I decided to document my pre-daygame history with women in a series of few posts so I can get some closure and finally leave this part of my life behind. Really, I just want to get it off my chest. It’s not some exciting player escapade memoir. It’s raw and ugly and it’s my first attempt at writing, so buckle up.

I scrambled dates and names and a few other things as to protect my identity.

I got married in year 1999 in Russia. My pre-marriage notch count was 2. One became my wife and another was a groupie who liked a drummer. It stayed this way till 2012. At some point we moved to Sydney and live here ever since.

Fast forward to around 2011 I started an online business doing SEO (search engine optimisation). I was sharing my ideas on a forum and, apparently, achieved some sort of a notorious status there. When someone turned my running thread to PDF is was more than 1000 pages long.

I started to run sales off the forum and business picked up quickly. I reduced my 9 to 5, 5 days a week contract to 3 days per week and, eventually, went full time. The time has come to hire some help and, on the advice on some online guru, I went ahead and hired two full time remote employees in Philippines. The best hiring decision I ever made. They worked from home and the whole company was 100% virtual. They both stayed with me till the end of 2015 when business finally collapsed.

What does it all have to do with women, you ask? Wait, I’ll get to this shortly.

Eventually I was contacted by T., the 40-year-old guy from Sydney who was inspired by what I was doing and we partnered up with the idea to turn a bunch of automation I wrote for SEO into a software as a service startup. He had some bad experience outsourcing to India and I pointed him towards Philippines.

Long story short, we decided to open a physical office in Philippines, because T. was a control freak. He went ahead on a reconnaissance mission and we decided on a location – Cebu City. I was going to join him early 2012 to do some hiring.

In February 2012 I stepped off the plane in Mactan International Airport and shortly thereafter checked into hotel near Ayala Mall in Cebu City. T. was staying in the same hotel.

Next day I did some interviews and we went for drinks. On the second day I walked on T. fucking a girl in his hotel room. She was visibly young and, in my blue pill opinion at a time, not the kind of girl a 40-year-old guy ought to fuck. To top it up, I knew T. had a steady live in girlfriend in Sydney for a while.

I remember like it happened yesterday, I was overcome by envy. My monogamous sex life was quite uninspiring after years of marriage and here I see a guy 4 years older than me fucking a tight young hottie.

I excused myself and went for a drink. It was a party time. I worked so hard on my business, I deserve it.

I suggested me and T. go to the nightclub on Thursday to have a few drinks and chill. We picked the most notorious nightclub in the whole city – J-Ave Superclub situated right in the middle of the Mango Square, the main party area and the red light district of Cebu City.

J-Ave was buzzing on that Thursday night. Filled with laser beams, bouncy loud music, dancing party girls, ladyboys, expats and tourists. The smell of female perfume, tobacco smoke and alcohol was in the air. Party time.

Upon arrival I started loading on rum and coke, T’s favourite drink he got me hooked on. Alcohol was pumping through my veins as I attempted to dance surrounded by sexy exotic girls.

More run and coke. I need to drink my inhibitions to the ground.

I lost T. in the crowd when short brunette in shorts and singlet started to dance next to me.

More rum and coke.

Wow, she’s actually touching me.

More rum and coke. She’s laughing. Where is T.?

Wait, what the fuck just happened? Did she just attempt to kiss me right there and then? She did. I like it.

More rum and coke.

T. appeared out of nowhere with a girl on his arm and said we need to go back to the hotel. My head is spinning. Too much rum and coke. But I don’t care anymore. I grab brunette and we head for a taxi stand.

She kisses me in taxi. It’s unreal. How old is she? She looks like she can’t be older than 25. Whatever. My head is spinning from alcohol and her lips.

We are back in my room. I am drunk. She pushes me to the bed and pulls my pants off. I am so drunk. But I am fucking her. Fuck. Condom. I forgot condom. I came inside her. I am screwed now.

“I am really drunk. I need to rest”, I tell her. She picked her stuff and went out of the door.

What’s her name? Wait. I never asked for her name. I don’t know her name. I am so drunk. I pass out.

I woke up with a hangover of my life when T. knocked at my door. Apparently he picked up a ladyboy and had to kick him out. I was laughing inside for “getting back at him”.

In the middle of the workday, while I was trying not to breath at the candidates coming to the job interview, the reality started to settle in.

I just cheated on my wife.

My identity of faithful husband and role model father developed a first crack.

To be continued…