Failing

 

Failing with the reading challenge, failing to not watch porn, failing to do anything with women beyond get pictures taken with them… Generally failing all over. But it’s Monday, and it’s a new week. I shall try again. The students are back- Fresher’s week has just ended- so there may be a few more nights out available to hone my approaching skills.

Reading to Fight Porn Addiction

 

I have ambitions. I always wanted to do certain things, things that I can’t go into detail about. In order to do these things, I laid out a load of plans, each one taking maybe a month each. Suffice to say, my career has not taken off and I’m still in the public sector (although for how long, no-one knows given impending job cuts).

Something has got in the way of these plans. It’s porn. It’s still fucking up my life. Part of what drew me into it was loneliness. Part was lust. Part was boredom. I hate to admit it, but I’m bored a lot, and porn fills that gap. I long for the pressure that university put me under (albeit rarely). I miss the college days before it, where I was too busy to do almost anything other than coursework. The constant pressure of deadlines and racing to keep up with everyone else left little time for the dodgy pirate VHS tapes that were doing the rounds.

I’ve been reading a really big book over the last few months (6 months, I now realise. Shit). I’ve been reading much less since the weather started to improve- we had flash floods over New Year, then more snow right through to April. Then my social life returned, and I’ve been out loads and not reading. I’m now coming to the closing pages of this book, and I’ll admit I have no fucking idea what’s going on in it. But anyway, I’ll try and focus on this and read it in bed, meaning I’m away from my phone and the computer, away from porn, and in a place where I can use my imagination for masturbation (this won’t have any relevance to the book, but just saying).

I’m coming to the closing pages of the book so I should be able to finish it by this time next week.

Things ended quickly with G.

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I met G in a swanky club 2 weeks ago. We’ve been talking and trying to meet since, just fitting in the odd conversation here and there. We eventually met for a drink Friday night in El Gato Negro,  a tapas bar on King St. She looked a lot different to the Saturday night I met her. I hardly recognised her. But then, any woman in a tiny dress with her tits almost falling out is going to look different in a clingy black top and black trousers, with her hair in a pony tail. Still fit though. We talked, but she didn’t flirt much. (Prior texts had been similarly dull.) We showed each other embarrassing pics from the night: her pic of us, tongues intertwined, and mine of her smearing lip gloss across my face. I walked her half way to her train afterwards, but she was saying I didn’t have to do this. She’d obviously made up her mind.

She’d obviously not been bowled over. My mates hated her, telling me her dress was awful and that she lacked class. (I liked her dress, but she did need to get some respect and not sponge money off guys.) Shame I had to spend so much money to find this out.

But then, what do you expect if you go to places like the swanky clubs? They’re all after rich businessmen, and when they find out you do admin in the public sector, they’re not interested any more. They’ll say, “We’re too different.” Whatever. Trouble is, I really like those places. I like the décor and atmos, and the challenge. (and looking at the women.) Besides, in that club I’ve been 3 times and pulled twice, so something is obviously working for me in that one.

We had agreed to do Sunday lunch, but yesterday morning she called it off saying (yeah, you guessed it) “we’re quite different.”

So. Still trying. In other news, porn star Vicky Vette is following me on Twitter, as is Susan Bennett, the voice of iPhone digital assistant Siri. Wow. I’ve not got an iPhone, but I’m aware of her reach.

Pulled a hot blonde in a swanky club.

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Oh, reader reader reader. Saturday night. Goddamn. I went to a stupidly expensive celeb haunt club on Saturday. I didn’t recognise anyone, but I did decide I was going to grow a pair. I picked a fit blonde with big tits in a halter top, and walked up and got chatting.

Hi, I’m INSERT NAME,” is a great chatup line. So simple. We talked. She was pretty drunk, but she knew what was going on. I kissed her before long. She was called G. She’d booked a table and she invited me to it, and I sat with her as she told me about her friends.

She introduced me to her best friend, telling me she’d been through so much with her. Her friend looked like Natasha Nice. She loved her, G said. Then, to prove it, she tongue-kissed her in front of me. It was beautiful. We swapped numbers. “Buy me a drink,” she said. Fucking hell. This is an expensive woman. But hey, it’s an expensive club. It was worth it though. It wasn’t long before I kissed her myself. I told her she was beautiful. She told me I was full of shit, and drew over my face with her lip gloss.

As the bar closed she had an argument with one of her mates, and she only gave me a kiss on the cheek before she left. I thought she’d given up.

I waited til tea time the next day, then dropped her a text. It took her a few hours, but she got back to me.

I’d been to the club about 6 months ago and pulled that night too, wearing the same suit. So I felt good, I had a good feeling about the night, and I did what I wanted to do. Possibly the lap dance the night before may have left me feeling like talking to beautiful women is a more natural thing than I usually feel it is. It’s normally terrifying. This is one of the good things about lap dancing- it gets you used to talking to women, and helps you relax around them. What it doesn’t do, and what you must find for yourself, is the self respect to go over and talk to the girl in the first place and believe it can work out for real. This is something I can JUST ABOUT do… but when I do, I pull the most beautiful women.

I’m still talking to G now. She wants to meet me, and in fact asked me if I was in Manchester the other night as she wanted a ‘vino’, but I was miles away and she needed to get home. We’ve talked on the phone tonight. She’s going away for the weekend to Germany, but when she’s back we’re planning to meet. Progress! Now to do the same thing tomorrow.