There’d be a whole slew of Russian girls in the coming years, with a wide variety of results from brutal blowouts to serious relationships with pheromones.
Flash forward from there to May of 2011. My RSG friend Mick and I got an all-expense paid ten day trip to Estonia for taking a student with us. I had spent my entire life being the mediocre man who dated the mediocre women. I had been okay with that… for thirty four years of pheromone production.
Then suddenly, after being forced out of the relationship I was warm and safe and comfortable in, I woke up as if from a deep sleep and realized that I was the only one standing in the way of me going after what I really wanted. I set my bar higher and at this point almost two years later I was getting laid. Learn more at http://chrshrt112.typepad.com/blog/2015/09/the-amount-of-pheromones.html and http://markalexander.over-blog.com/2015/09/after-pheromone-usage.html
I wasn’t having sex with runway models (well, I’d just fucked my first, see later chapter), but with some effort at this point, I could close on a six or a seven (and even a rare eight) and I had a rotation going of a few girls at a time. I was successful then at the lower end of my own scale, but I wasn’t content to stay there and use more powerful pheromones.
Walking around Estonia old town was like stepping into the Land Of Smoking Hot Women. I was in awe of the amount of beauty that seemed to ï¬oat along the sidewalks. The population there is forty percent ethnic Russians and every third or fourth girl that walked by looked like a catwalk model. From London to there was like the difference between shopping at Poundland and Harrods. Check out pheromones at https://erinjgz.wordpress.com/2014/09/06/women-and-pheromones/The difference in the quality of pheromone perfume was outrageous.
Mick and I went out with beaming smiles on our stupid little faces, and as we were walking we came to this nice little urban park area then onto a mall. The weather was perfect, hot sun that brought out all the girls in their short shorts. Just as we passed through the sliding doors to the mall my ears perked up and my spider sense tingled. For a few seconds the Earth stopped rotating. She was stunning, a young, tall blonde bombshell in a tight vest and short denim shorts. She wasn’t dressed too revealing as to look trashy, but enough so that you could tell she had a perfect body.
October of 2010 gave me a good example. I was out in Covent Garden. Again. An RSG bootcamp was in swing and I’d just finished teaching the daygame session. I stuck to what I knewâopeningâand didn’t take the session beyond that. I was getting really good at approaching girls and either getting the number or the instadate but my midâto-late game was where I lost them, so I didn’t feel qualified to teach the latter stuff. So long as it was a beginners bootcamp I could get students to hook point and that was enough for them.
