The end of the Easy Bang

Oh the good, old days, in which you would go out, have a couple of drinks and finish somewhere with a lady on your side blowing your whistle. There is not a single guy on this planet who does not think, who has not thought or who will not think about going out and taking someone home like a master.

But as most of you already know (or at least you should), this is a reality which does not exist anymore in many countries or is about to get extinct soon. “Hey but wait Pistol, what about the Nordic countries, there you can bang a new girl everyday!” Before you continue, let me tell you that I am talking about attractive women and not just about banging average or below the average females.

Concerning the latter, you can indeed go to such countries as Finland and bang all the 4s and 5s of your dreams (on the last five years, I have never had so many women on the 0-5 range hitting on me so shamelessly as I had in Helsinki).

But if you, as I do, want to be with women which won’t make you leave after you come – I can even be comprehensive enough to say that first, a 6.5 can already be included on this list and that second, we can exclude all the 9s and 10s, just to turn things a little bit more real – then I recommend you to keep reading these lines.

The last two years of my life have been characterized by a handful of trips which have made me realize that the wave of globalization has been getting further and further and has been destroying mercilessly all the places which used to make a single man happy (please check the article The four phases of the westernization of a country, which totally complements this one.

I know that I am both older and pickier, therefore not only I do not have patience to deal with most of the girls – due to their endless games, bad attitude or just because the efforts way exceed the rewards – but also I aim at the ones with more quality – which also naturally translates into a much more difficult path of conquering them – and I wish that this were the reason which could explain everything.

But no, the world is stretching the Pareto rule to such an extent, that I would say that nowadays 99% of the best women on the planet are reserved for the top 1% of men who are empowered enough to attract them. And by empowered I mean possessing money and power which, especially when combined, are still the number one trigger to put every pussy wet (the rest are just bullshit theories or being at the right place at the right time).

I hate to be nostalgic and to talk about past glories but in this last two years I found myself looking back in time (too) many times and realizing how things were much better before and, as a self-evident conclusion, how they have become (much) worse.

But instead of simply debiting abstract ideas and thoughts, I am about to give you a handful of countries and cities (or events, such as the Brazilian Carnival) which I had visited before and to which I have returned in 2015/2016 and whose outcome just proves and supports what I am claiming.

 

 

Ljubljana, Slovenia

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2008: While I was doing Erasmus in Prague, I decided to do a road trip with some friends for five days in the beginning of February towards south, with the intention of celebrating the Carnival in Venice, Italy and Rijeka, Croatia. I had a nice weekend on both places and on the Monday after it was time to chill, so we decided to visit Ljubljana, Slovenia, as a very good friend of one of my “car comrades” was living there.

Since it was a working day, we knew that not much would be going on, so we decided to go first to a jazz bar, to drink a couple a beers and to listen to music which your ears always thank you for, and then head to the only club which was open on that tranquil evening.

As we entered the latter, we run into three girls dancing on the bar and I remember thinking that perhaps this night could still produce some unexpected results, something which honestly I had never believed in the first place.

One of the girls, even with some unnecessary extra kilograms, was indeed quite screwable, as she had a very cute face and quite an acceptable body. Since she was neither the last Coke of the desert nor I was in a hunter mode, I decided to apply a very aloof strategy: from the other side of the bar, I made a small signal with my hand, calling her to come into my direction. And much to my surprise, she accepted my “proposal” and walked up to me.

Do not ask me how the conversation flowed but the truth was that after five minutes we were already talking about sex and teasing each other. Not surprisingly, ten minutes later, she was sucking me outside of the club and I only did not bang her because she was “in her red days”.

 

2015: With this picture in my mind, it was time to return to the city which I had experienced perhaps the easiest sexual encounter of my life. Since I was going to a salsa festival in Croatia in the end of that June, I had expanded my trip to one week before, in order that I could spend a whole weekend in the capital of Slovenia.

The expectations were quite high but the results were worst than ever, since I did not have absolutely anything with any girl, being a sexual action, a make out or even a telephone number.

The first night I went to this punk, alternative district called the Metelkova and I did not see a single attractive girl. Since my other two friends were very into drugs and crazy stuff, they were happy as hell, so I decided to leave them and to go the (supposedly) best club on that Friday night. There, not only I felt that I was in some western night club but also I did not get one Indicator of Interest from any female there.

So all the hopes were pinned on the night of Saturday, which is by definition the one in which everyone goes out and therefore every man increases his chances to get lucky. And after having seen an Irish pub with zero hotties, after having been in a club half empty, with lots of teenagers only caring about their own stuff, and after having been in a packed bar, whose ratio was one girl for every three or four big-and-jealous-beta orbiters, I concluded that indeed only the biggest luck of the world could save me on that moment.

A terrible weekend which needs, in any case, to be remembered, simply because I want to make sure that I never return to a capital of a country which has fewer than 300,000 inhabitants.

 

 

Zagreb, Croatia

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2008: In the inter-rail I did on this summer throughout the ex-Yugoslavia, Zagreb was the last stop. My friend and I arrived there exhausted on a Thursday, so on that night we just went out for a couple of beers, since everything our body and mind wanted was to rest.

On the day after, we started asking some young people, especially girls, where we could hang out later and curiously most of the answers were like: “are you crazy? Most of people of Zagreb are still on the islands and therefore there is not much going out in the city”.

For two youngsters looking for fun on their last weekend of a great trip, this was the worst information they could get. We had almost lost our hopes when we finally asked a guy who told us: “Hey, if you want to party, to have fun and to see very beautiful girls, then you can only head to lake Jarun”.

We got intrigued but excited at the same time and a couple of hours later there we were taking a tram towards a place which we were totally blank about. So we got out in a station almost in the middle of nowhere and began wandering around and asking people where this “secret” location was, until we could finally find the route which would go through some kind of sugarcane field.

When we finally managed to get out of it, a world of fun popped up in front of our eyes: two or three big clubs, full of people and loud music, which gave us the biggest smile of that month. About twenty meters ahead, we met a group of four girls who immediately got so interested on us, that I remember starting wondering whether everything was not staged or whether I was not in some kind of prank.

But no, the best was indeed reserved to the end: a couple of minutes later, there I was banging one of the girls in the middle of the sugar canes, a field which had given me a very sour moment thirty minutes before but which gave me, in the end, the sweetest moment of that adventurous summer.

 

2015: After my weekend in Ljubljana and before I go to the Salsa festival, which would start on the Thursday after, we had found the best way to fill in our schedule during the week by going to a music festival in Zagreb, which would exactly take place in this lake Jarun.

Since I had faced a quite winning moment, seven years before, my expectations were quite high and I was even a little bit feeling this “teenage thrill”, an excitement which I rarely feel nowadays.

The first night brought a lot of rain, some good music and almost no interactions with girls – and with this I mean neither receiving any Indicator of Interest from their side nor any new prospect, since the quality there was quite low (in Croatia, like most of the places in Europe, the hot girls usually do not go to these kinds of events, giving obviously preference to the upscale bars and clubs) and therefore I did not even try to collect any number.

The second night there was a little bit more juice, since one of my friends and I interacted with two very cute young girls, who were actually quite fun and whom we spent about two hours of the night with. The result? Less rain than the night before and a switch from rock to electronic music. Regarding the girls, there were neither kisses nor even numbers, a fact which made us wondering what the hell was going on there.

The last night of the festival brought more of the same, with no remarkable achievements worth being referred. On the end of the night, we still went to a high-end club who was a 5 minute walk from the festival, just to realize that all the attractive girls had already been selected or picked up by the rich wallets who were sponsoring them.

Actually spending three days in a rock/electronic festival in a very dead moment of the week – from Monday to Wednesday – was a very enjoyable experience, but knowing that I was leaving a place with no relevant memories, and especially because this same place had provided me one the top “debauchery” stories of my life, just gave me in the end this inevitable feeling of disappointment.

 

 

Krakow, Poland

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2007: If there is a moment which perfectly defines my discovery and consequent dazzle about Eastern Europe, that one was when I arrived in Krakow in November 2007. As I was doing Erasmus in Prague on that time, visiting the city known for its amazing medieval architecture and for another reason that history simply can not hide – it was one of areas which suffered more the consequences of the holocaust, with its epicenter in the concentration camp of Auschwitz, located 50 km away from Krakow – seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally get to know Poland.

But even if I was there to sightseeing and walking around, that was just a small part of the purpose of my trip, since the largest one must be attributed to the huge curiosity I had about knowing and meeting Polish girls. And just to sum up things, let me just tell you about two short stories which are worth telling.

First story: we arrived there on a Friday and our (I was with two friends) excitement and expectations were on a top-level. So after heating a little bit the engines at home with some vodka, we headed to a club we had heard very good things about. When I arrived there, I immediately spotted the best girl who was there, in the middle of the dance floor, and just moved my feet towards her.

Five minutes later I was already making out with her on a concealed place of the club, just because she had just told me a couple of minutes before she had a boyfriend and some of his friends were there. We returned to the dance floor to have real fun and then I was able to convince her to leave with me and to go for a walk outside.

We kissed very passionately outside and after a while we were in front of my hostel and I was almost able to take her inside, but she simply did not consent in the last moment. One hour later I had a message in my phone stating “Not entering your place was simply the worst decision I have ever taken in my life”.

Second story: I remember arriving in the train station of Auschwitz and, before going the camp itself, we decided to stop in a local fast-food restaurant, just to put out stomach ready for the not so pleasant experience which would come next. And while I was ordering the food to a half aged woman, suddenly a very cute girl shows up behind her (she was working in a kitchen or something) and I swear that I have never seen again such bedroom eyes in my whole life!

For someone who was with a big hangover, I first thought that I was somehow dreaming since the girl suddenly left for a while. But then there she was again, on the aisle, looking at me as she had never seen a guy. I eventually tried to call her, by making some gestures and telling the lady to bring the girl to the front, in order that I could get her number, but my attempt led to nothing.

In any case, that did not matter so much and that killer look still pops up in my mind today, once in a while. Even If did not get laid and left the country without my Polish flag, I really felt like coming from a winner weekend, in which I went through reactions and looks from women which honestly I had only got in a similar way when I had been in the Brazilian Carnival on the year before (more on that below).

 

2016: Almost ten years later, I was about to return to Krakow with no expectations whatsoever and even with a strong disbelief of how things would be around there, due to the things I had been reading in some forums of sick men like me who write about the best places to bang women.

But since I wanted to make the bridge between a weekend in Ostrava and another in Wroclaw, and I knew that in Krakow there would be lots of people for sure between a Monday and a Wednesday, I decided to head to the most beautiful city of Poland.

The city itself continues amazing, with its astonishing medieval square, its overwhelming castles and fortresses and its unique districts.

The “problem” are the people! First, when walking around, you will see endless tourists, sitting in the never-ending coffee shops, riding in the horse coaches around the city or listening to the travel guides and taking “the-same-you-can-see-in-internet” pictures.

In addition, due to the fact that Spain was the fashion 10 years ago and Polish girls used to be crazy (and easy) about every Spaniard they would come across, you will you hear Castellano every ten seconds, not only from the mouth of the typical family who comes to visit the city and do some sightseeing but also and especially from the mouth of the thirsty Erasmus student who is eager to get laid with as many locals as he can.

Last but not least, this city had already been corrupted many years before by starting to be a stag party destination, but nowadays the situation is unbearable: for every twenty meters you walk, you will have a promoter saying “hey guys, want to check the best girls in Krakow, free entrance just for you”, which only shows that there are also a bunch of guys who visit the city just to go to strip clubs.

As a final extra, the quality of women is in general quite low and unless you are in a special event or party, you will not spot someone who will grab your attention. And my experience there just confirmed my initial disbelief.

On the Monday night, my friend and I had been informed about a welcome Erasmus party which would take place in the club Lokal, a mixture of bunker and dungeon. And actually the location had been well-selected by the organizers, since that place was perfect to lock in thirsty male teenagers looking for below the average ladies.

Since that scenario was making us desperate, we decided to head to a club called Shakers, about which I had read in the sick men forum as being the best option for a Monday night. And it was, in case you like to be among 85% of men and see one single hot girl throughout the whole night (the others were simply below the average). After that painful outcome, we just decided to go home and to avoid all the strip club invitations which came across along the way.

Tuesday night, we went for a day walk to then end up in the Jewish neighborhood (Kazimierz), an amazing alternative area loaded with cool bars and restaurants, with the extra of being very clean – something which rarely happens in these kinds of areas in any given city, which are usually full of trash, stink and have no beautiful places whatsoever.

But as I said in the beginning, the problem of Krakow is not the places themselves but the people and after an early evening drink at a bar, a meal at a very nice restaurant and a cocktail at another cool pub, we decided to head to the center since the reactions and quality of the girls we had seen was the same as the temperature in which the water freezes.

So after some thinking, we decided to go to the Teatro Cubano, because a Latin bar is always a good option and in this occasion there was a free entrance event, which would surely attract lots of foreigners and consequently some locals (girls) looking for them.

And even if the spot was quite nice, the ratio quite acceptable and the quality of the girls not bad, I swear that I have never seen such attitudes in a Latin party, where girls are usually open and very receptive. And the most interesting was that I had much more IOIs from the foreigners who were there – mostly Spaniards – than the local Poles, who just behaved either like bitches or as if they pussy were golden (and most of them were just average!).

We stayed until quite late since I was really enjoying the music but the experience itself just proved me that these kinds of parties used to be a gem ten years ago, with the local girls all pussy-sweating for the exotic Latino who would show them some moves, but which are now hate places in which girls just feel entitled.

In the end and sadly, the system won: we ended up in a strip club, with me looking will full frustration to those women getting naked and all those men screaming around them.

 

 

Wroclaw, Poland

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2014: If I take into consideration the last two years of my life, the last two days of 2014 and the first four of 2015 were surely the highlight in terms of fun and women (sad but true).

I departed the city where I live in Germany, together with two very good friends of mine, and we arrived totally exhausted in Wroclaw (especially me, who had been driving the whole way) at around 3 am already on the 31st of December.

Even If not much was going on, we decided to go for a couple of beers just to get in the good mood for the party days which were about to come. Two hours later, we here returning home by car and we spotted two girls smoking outside a hostel and I immediately stopped the car and told my two friends to approach them.

When one of them was asking for the number, I shouted in our own language “hey, fuck numbers…just invite them to come home with us”. Curiously, they accepted and the result was that both of my friends made out with their respective girls and one of them was even blown. Not bad for a Tuesday night, when nothing was going on and before a new year’s eve, right?

The day after we prepared heavily for the New Year which was about to come and at around 11 pm, when we were wandering around the city already drunk, we run into three girls who simply said: “hey, are you are three?! And then they pointed at them saying “one, two, three!”. Keeping things short, every one of us spent the midnight kissing his corresponding match, a fact which even put the crowd who was at the bar somehow dumbfounded, looking at our “show”.

The night continued – we eventually got rid of the crazy Polish trio, with the promise that we would all meet up on the day after – and headed to a club with open bar, to which we had already bought tickets some hours before during the afternoon.

There we continued partying like kings and, while I was in one of these “hunter solo mode” moments, I met a cute Belorussian whom I started dancing with to then hook up with about half an hour later. I could not take her home in the end but I got her number, with the feeling that I would meet her soon (which eventually happened a couple of months later).

On the evening after, the three Poles showed up at our place, cooked a very nice meal for all of us and we had a real fun night all together, which ended of course with each of us nailing his respective one.

On Friday, my friends and I decided to do another raid without any girls attached. To my side, it was the weakest night but for the other two fellows there are two stories which deserve to be reported.

When we entered Café Mañana – a very cool place in which indeed there is flirt and sex in the air – we had a reaction which I had only felt three years before in Poznan: a group of four ladies just looked at us and almost all at the same time released a “Wow”.

Later on the night, one of my friends was hitting on a very nice lady who had a boyfriend but who eventually, also with the help of my persuasive skills, gave in to the temptation and went home with him. I gave him some time and then I left the bar too, since the night had died already.

When I arrived there, he was mad at the door asking me whether I had seen his girl, who had “escaped” from our place while he had been in the toilet (he had not locked the door, a very “rookie mistake” especially when you have a girl at your place who has a boyfriend and you give her a couple of minutes on her own to “rationalize”).

I still run out to the street, but I could not find any trace of her. Meanwhile my second friend arrived home with an average slut he had met on New Year’s Eve and whom he met again on this night and easily took her home.

It was a funny night, since I and the other friend who had been “dumped” were very drunk and we just made really idiot things, such as putting the dick on a plate and asking her for a bite.

On the last night, our three girls wanted to meet us again, so we decided to have a very relaxing night at our place, with lots of drinking and fun games. Even so, one of my friends and I were able to go out for about twenty minutes to check how the night was and, on our way back home, three girls from the other side of street looked at us as if they had never seen a guy.

We simply had to approach them and the best of them, a very solid 7, just said “oh we were discussing that you probably were not from Wroclaw”. I picked up her number and we agreed to meet later, which sadly did not happen because we had already been “locked in” for that night.

 

2016: While I was planning a trip with a friend of mine, who had never traveled to Eastern Europe, I remember saying that I would need to include Wroclaw in the itinerary, since I had been there two years before and it was certain that it would be at least good.

But certainty is a thing which, in these changing times, does not exist anymore and the city I visited one month ago had little or almost nothing to do with the one I had been two years 21 months before.

We arrived there on a Wednesday night and, after some disappointing incursions on Krakow and especially on Ostrava (more on that afterwards), we were betting all chips on the long weekend which was about to come.

First we started in Casa de la Musica, the local Latin place in which nothing was going on, but where we meet a group of three Portuguese guys, who had just arrived one week before to start their Erasmus program there.

We then left the bar to check how the “student party square” (called Pasaz Niepolda) was but along the way I noticed a phenomenon which I had never seen in this city and which just gave me immediate goosebumps all over my body: not only I had promoters inviting me or other males to go to some strip club – not with the same frequency but exactly as in Krakow – but also saw lots of foreign guys wandering around in their fancy clothes, a clear sign that Wroclaw had already become a stag-party destination, a 100% guarantee that the place is on its (high)way to become totally fucked up and decadent.

But since such realizations at night do not bring any positive outcome, I tried to abstract myself from negative thoughts and moved forward with the night.

At the student square, we entered three bars but we did not stay in any of them for more than ten minutes, so in the end we decided to follow the advice of the only Portuguese guy who was still with us: to go to an Erasmus party, in a location about 3 km from city center.

And just to sum up, I shall say that the party was indeed fun but was only good if you were an average girl looking for a guy, because it had a ratio of one female for every three males.

On the day after, one of the friends who had been with me in Wroclaw in 2014, joined us and we were prepared for another battle. During the day we walked around and we even opened a set of two girls, who were actually nice and responsive, but who also answered us in this “you-are-a-foreigner-and-I-do-not-get-excited-anymore-about-that-fact” mode.

In the evening, we passed first in Casa de la Musica and Café Mañana, which were quite disappointing, to then head to the “student square” and enter Bezsennosc, the bar which I heard it would be the best option for a Thursday night. And it was indeed a good option, since the music, atmosphere and number of girls were quite acceptable.

Nevertheless, neither the “talent” nor the IOIs from the women there were anything to be highlighted and this was the moment I remember thinking that “shit, Wroclaw has succumbed too”. Even so, the friend who had joined us on that day approached perhaps the only available girl down to a ONS (One Night Stand) and, even if she was not more than a 6, he deserves all the credit since he eventually took her home in the end of that night.

Regarding my other friend and I, we just wandered around a couple of hours more, to then get back to our headquarters, resigned and hopeful on a brighter tomorrow.

Friday, the beginning of the weekend, so it was time to put the stakes high. We first passed by Casa de la Musica, which was again terrible, and then we separated ourselves for a while. D (let us call that to the friend who had banged) proceeded to Café Mañana, while N (the other friend) and I went for some “street game”, until we found a very cute pair of girls who almost bit our proposal to come with us to another bar, but who in the end came with a lame excuse not to follow us.

We moved on and decided to go this Cherry Club, supposedly the place with the hottest women in the whole Wroclaw. And when we got in, I could feel the state of joy of my friend N who immediately said “finally you take me to a place with top quality!”

But quality is one thing and accessibility is a total different one and if (all) the women on a certain club only have the former, then I prefer not to suffer and to stay at home watching Fashion TV.

Basically, not only we did not get any interested looks from any of the girls but also I was blown out by all the women I approached, something which, even if does not affect me anymore, just shows how the current state of things in Poland is.

I therefore told N for us to go to Café Mañana, since in Cherry we would just be losing time and he eventually agreed with my proposal, even if that meant going to a venue with a much lower quality standard.

In Mañana we met D again and after a while, I spotted a girl at the bar, whom I naturally approached and whom I had a very nice ten minutes of push-pull game with, but which eventually faded away (and I did not even care about knowing the reason why).

A couple of minutes later, I saw another girl at the bar and my feet moved again towards her. This time the interaction was even better and that made me realize that, even if nowadays fewer and fewer Polish women allow you to enter their world, the ones who do are indeed quite nice and very good conversationalists. She had a boyfriend but I could clearly see that she was totally into me, so I switched on this persistent mode which eventually bore fruits a couple of hours later, when we kissed each other passionately.

Since I both understood she got totally affected by the situation and that I would not take her home, I stopped the insistence and told her to take my number and to tell me something in the near future (which I knew that it would not happen and of course has not happened in the end).

And there we were, on the last night of our trip and also the last great evening, in terms of weather, in central Europe. We all dressed up and told to one another that, what would depend on us, it would not fail.

My ONS friend, not satisfied with his night of debauchery on the Thursday before, told a girl he had banged in Wroclaw in 2014 and at dinner time there we were, the four, getting ready for an epic fun night.

We went first to Casa de la Musica and this time, to my delight, it was good and I could finally give use to my dancing skills (or I thought). And to my astonishment, as it had already happened in Krakow, I was blown out the first two times I asked a set of girls to dance.

It seems that in Poland girls already have their bitch shields and attitude on all the time, no matter the venue you are at (even in northern Germany, which is the worst place on earth, at least girls are nice and receptive in Latin parties). The best I could extract from that party was to dance with a very sexy girl – who curiously lived in Berlin – who also knew how to dance and also complimented my skills, leaving in the end a lipstick mark on my white shirt (which interestingly and actually became a very good “pussy magnet” for the rest of the night).

Without inventing anymore, we all agreed to head to Café Mañana, whic was indeed the only place in which we could have real fun. It was a short night for D – who after a while went home to bang his “delivered product” – but a long one for me and especially for N.

When we were together at the bar, we both spotted a girl who, even if dressed in a very hipster way, was indeed quite cute and had an amazing ass. I told N to approach her and he hesitated firstly but when we saw a pair of two other players getting ready to approach this girl, I told my friend in a very serious tone: “hey N, either it is you or them, so please move your fucking feet”.

To sum up the story, they had an amazing chemistry with each other and, even against all his beliefs – we had told me a very beta comment of “she is not these kinds of girls who go home with you on the same night” to which I immediately answered “hey, she has a pussy like all the others, and this is your last day of holidays, so please picture her down on her knees with you coming on her face”- he was able to take her home.

And all of what was left of the group was me, a lonely soldier ready to face all the adversities. Actually this was the first (and sadly the only) night which I received strong IOIs from girls, a clear sign that Saturday is by far the only night of the week which is worth to give it a try.

While N was still on the bar dancing with his future ONS, I approached a very sexy, feminine girl whom I then had lots of fun and danced with but who eventually left with her friends half an hour later, but still giving me her number (we are still in contact and we will meet almost for sure in the near future).

I did not lose any motivation and tried by every mean to get the bang but, since I am not 20 years old anymore, fucking just for the sake of it does not interest me anymore.

This was the reason why, in the last moment of the night, I refused to go home with a 5 who “gave everything she had”. Because for me screwing an average girl without having touched a quality one is a much higher defeat than just accepting the defeat itself and going home empty-handed.

 

 

Ostrava, Czech Republic

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2012: When I lived in Prague in 2007/2008, I used to hear wonders about the 3rd city of Czech Republic but for one reason or the other I ended up not going to Ostrava.

Until my good old friend Rocha and I decided to spend the New Year’s Eve in 2012. After a Friday in Prague without any relevant happening deserving any mention – too many tourists and the feeling that this place had long become fucked-up – we arrived at Ostrava’s train station at around 5 pm and the reaction of Rocha, who had never been in Eastern Europe before, was something never to be forgotten again: his eyes, displaying a mixture of bewilderment and apprehension, were telling me “where the hell are you taking me?”, as the scenery of massive amounts of rusty iron and steel could give no other thought.

But when, some hours later, we entered a restaurant and a group of girls totally locked their eyes on us, we happily discovered that we had taken the right decision about the city in which we would welcome the New Year. After this “warm welcoming”, the early evening on that place continued with a hot girl, who was together with her boyfriend, but who spent the whole dinner looking at me, to an extent that I was feeling almost uncomfortable and even sorry for the guy next to her.

We left the bar and got ready to explore the different options available on the party street of Ostrava – called Stodolni – in which you can jump from one bar to the other without paying anything. On this cold Saturday there are two stories about it which deserve to be highlighted.

The first one happened in the pub Dublin, perhaps the best one in Ostrava if we consider the party level and the friendliness of women. My friend Rocha was already wasted as hell, when I spotted a tall, attractive blond coming from the toilet, whom I immediately started conversation with.

She was together with her sister – who on that moment was at the bar with one of these beta-orbiters friends who give all but who never receive anything – and had a second one, who according to her own words “was a bitch in Tenerife”, something which I reacted like “What do you mean a bitch?”, to which she simply answered “Oh you know, she just receives money for sex” (this how things still work out in Czech Republic: a non-normal event treated exactly as a…normal one!).

We were having a very nice conversation, with her telling me how fun and mature I was – and was also always stressing how fucked up my friend Rocha was – and actually I was already predicting a nice end to this story with her.

Meanwhile, she invited me and Rocha to go the bar to drink a shot with her, her sister and the Beta-Orbiter. He, perhaps already being aware of the “danger” we were representing to his endeavors with the brunette sister, simply made himself the nicest guy of the world and started paying me and my friend a couple of shots.

And one must give credit to him, as he ended up with the little sobriety which was left in Rocha (but fortunately I could still stand after the hard round of alcohol). A couple of minutes later, I found myself alone in the bar, because the group had most likely gone outside to smoke a cigarette.

But suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and it was the brunette sister, who I had still not had any conversation with, who simply told me the following words: “Come with me to the toilet”. Inside, all my organs got frozen and scalding at the same time but, since I was not sure whether I was dreaming or having hallucinations, I just replied to: “To the toilet?”, to which she just smiled and nodded, so I had no other option than escorting her there.

When we entered the common area, she jumped on me, kissing me like crazy and touching all over my body and I remember thinking “How I had missed this country!” I simply took her to one of the private bathrooms, she put her hands on the wall and I put her jeans and panties down, as she was totally ready for me to penetrate her.

But because I am a person who never loses control of himself, even in these moments, I started trying to reach the pocket of my jeans – which were already on the floor – to get a condom which was on the small pocket. Maybe because this lasted more than it should or simply because she started to rationalize, she suddenly said “Oh I can not do this”, and simply run away from the toilet!

And there I was, with my pants down, “hardly” astonished thinking “what the hell is going here?”, until I had a moment of clarity, put my trousers up and left the toilet looking for her like crazy. And I can tell you that I was around two hours still with my condom put, still with the (more than normal) hope that I would see this girl again and that this time I would go “directly” to her.

But for my disgrace and frustration, I did not see her again. Later on, I found Rocha a little bit more recovered, told him my story and he just said “How is it possible that you lose an opportunity like that just because of a condom?!” Not wise words, but surely very understandable ones.

And as two mighty warriors, we continued our battle since we were there to party until there was no energy left, also not caring about past defeats. We entered Bastila – perhaps the second best bar after Dublin – and after 5 minutes Rocha was sitting next to a chubby with a cute face and already kissing her cheek and neck.

I then sat on her right side and she looked at me with that horny look, proper of a drunk Czech girl. We then started making these small “games”, like kissing the top of her tits or putting a finger inside her mouth, and that interaction was heading quite well to a nice, old threesome in our hotel room.

Until suddenly Rocha hit my head with his, as he said that someone had tried to punch him and he just had time to swing the head to my side. After the initial confusion, he said that he had already seen a guy looking at him with an accusatory look, either because this thug was simply not enjoying the show we were displaying there – a very common “trait” of Eastern Europe, where guys usually use violence in a free way against foreigners – or just because he had something or knew the girl we were with.

I asked him where the guy was but there was no sign of him inside the bar. But when we went outside, there he was leaving the area hurriedly, so I shouted to him: “Hey stop right there and come here!” I got closer to him and started asked for explanations, to which he was always answering in a very bad English “Hey no no, sorry sorry, no no”.

Since Rocha and I were quite wasted and this fellow was indeed avoiding any (more) physical contact, we decided to let him go and to go home with a bump on both heads.

So much had already happened on that Saturday and there we were still with the last night of the year in front of us. And by the events and sample which Stodolni had given us, we could not be more enthusiastic about what was still to come.

We decided to have dinner with Chico – the owner of Tuga Bar – a really cool mate we had met on our first night and who had asked whether we would like to spend the new year’s Eve with him and his wife, a request Rocha and I promptly accepted.

The midnight came and there we were celebrating, dancing to the hits of the resident Dj Gomes and flirting with the girls who had meanwhile entered the bar, while outside the local dudes were already fucked up and hitting one another as if there were no tomorrow (perhaps there was not any for some).

On that moment, I remember saying to the apprehensive Rocha: “hey, no worries…around 1 am we will go outside and the guys and their fighting scenes will be gone”. Said and done: when we arrived outside, it seemed that everybody had vanished…but fortunately enough, that everybody was mostly men, as we could confirm when we entered the first bars and checked that the ratio of women was quite favorable.

It was about 2 am, when we got in Bastila and the first relevant story happened. On the corner, there were a couple of girls drinking and having fun, two targets which even the most inexperienced players would not miss. We approached them and I stayed with the one who spoke no English but who immediately was into me and Rocha went to the one who spoke reasonable English, and whom he also established immediately a sexual connection with.

Not even two minutes had passed and both of us were already kissing their corresponding mates and, a couple of minutes later, Rocha grabbed his girl and took her to the toilet – which was a mixed one – to nail her like a king. I tried to follow his same steps, but my girl would only say things like “Cannot…boyfriend”, even if she was still allowing me to kiss and touch her as if she were the most single girl on the planet!

In the end I could not seal the deal, but watching that scene of people queuing outside and knowing that Rocha was having his first, real “Eastern Europe” experience inside that small private bathroom was worth one hundred average bangs.

But the night was still far form ending and I was still (strangely) confident that I would finish the night lying on my hotel bed, with a lady on my side. It was around 4 am when Rocha and I entered a bar – do not ask me what happened between the “incident” in Bastila and that time – and a cute girl immediately smiled at me.

Since I was wearing a very stupid party hat, which in any case was being a great peacocking accessory, I believe that made perfect sense in her mind. I approached her and we had a very fun, flirty conversation and on my side Rocha was also rocking the place interacting with two other women. Either due to the high level of alcohol or simply for no reason, I collected her number with the promise and feeling that I would meet her later on that night.

Meanwhile, while I was walking the cold street of Stodolni, I receive a SMS from her saying something like “I think we should meet” and, to the height of coincidence, I eventually met her at around 6 am in Dublin, without having set anything with her previously.

A group of three Italians were hitting on her when I came in but, the moment she saw me, was the moment I completely understood that I would get laid on that night: that spark on a woman’s eyes, which can not hide by any means her attraction towards a man. At it was at around 7 am that I eventually entered the year in the best way a man can.

 

2016: Before I went to Poland (previous reports on Krakow and Wroclaw), my friend N and I had decided to spend the first weekend of our 10 day trip in Ostrava, a true pussy paradise which had given me so many good moments four years before.

Even if I knew that the experience would not be same – for instance, beforehand I was already expecting a certain degree of westernization, e.g.: girls with attitude, into their smartphones and not so much into foreigners – I was actually quite confident that it would still be very rewarding. But guess what? Like most, if not all, of the trips I have been taking these two last years, It was not…but let us go by parts.

We arrived at our AirBnb rented apartment already on Friday at dawn, after a 10 hour car journey, totally exhausted and ready to sleep. On the day after, we were recovered and ready to explore the ugliness of the city.

During the day, we went to the supermarket, passed on Stodolni, wandered around the city center and ended up the afternoon in a very nice coffee shop, which was the only one who had some young people aka some girls. There was indeed some quality there but, either because these girls were already coupled with a guy or simply because they wanted to keep their posture, the only IOIs we received were from a pair of girl friends who were just average.

We left the place one hour and half later, heading home, to groom ourselves and to prepare for the crazy night of Ostrava. I know that superstition is for dummies but, since my 2012 odyssey had started there, I decided to choose exactly the same restaurant I had been four years before, somehow to serve as an amulet for a debauchery weekend.

Basically the dinner was just a normal one, among a horde of loud guys and Japanese expats (I wonder what all of these people are doing in a shit hole city like that) so around 11 pm we began our raid in Stodolni.

And after walking around back and forth for a couple of times, including checking Dublin and Bastila which did not have a single hot girl, we stopped by Harley’s, the pub which had by fair the best clientele on that evening. N and I stayed there for around one hour, drinking some whisky and getting on a cool mood, while around there were groups of people with some nice girls, but who were not so curious about those two fellows standing at the bar.

By this time, I remember thinking “ok, maybe these girls have not drunk so much yet, but they will eventually bring out this horny devil”, so we decided to go outside for a while and check the other places. Since they were all so great, half an hour later there we were back on Harley’s, were we eventually stayed until almost the end of the night.

As relevant situations, I approached a very hot brunette who was actually nice but told me even in a nicer way that she was waiting for her boyfriend (I had not bitten the shit test at first and had tried to tease her a little bit, but in the end I realized that the interaction would not go anywhere), another very cute brunette, with a lovely smile, who indeed was more or less into me, but who said that she was waiting for her husband to come and pick her up.

Lastly, there was a group which had one crazy girl who was quite drunk and whom and N approached as well, but whose friends cock blocked us a couple of times so we also gave up after a couple of attempts. If you are expecting more exciting, amazing stories, then you have to look for them elsewhere because they surely did not happen on this Friday, as we went home with the feeling that we had almost been going out in any normal western city.

We woke up on Saturday with this small feeling of disappointment but thinking that, on the other hand, the big night of the week was about to come, so we joined our energies and left the house ready to rock. We first went to the big shopping mall Forum Nova Karolina, where we wandered around for a couple of hours without receiving any relevant indicators of interest from girls who were either with boyfriend or just too interested in their smart phones.

Without losing any motivation, we went back to the streets to walk around and check a nice Saturday afternoon vibe…which was nonexistent! I had not realized that in 2012 but it seems that Ostrava gets a little bit ghost town on Saturdays – honestly I do not understand why and where they vanish to, since on Sunday there are more people again in the city – a phenomenon which I believe I have not seen in any other city I have been at.

The worst came at night, when we were looking for restaurants and most of them were closed and the ones which were open where somehow empty. The disgust started taking over us and we began to think about the alternative of going to a nearby city, such as Olomouc or Brno but, having a nice dinner in an Italian restaurant in Stodolni, we took the decision of staying in Ostrava, whichever the outcome would be.

Meanwhile, we went to Tuga Bar – which I knew it was not owned by Chico anymore – and to my astonishment I met Dj Gomes, who immediately recognized me after such a long time. I asked him what was going on in the city and he basically told me that the people have been going out less and less and that the good old glory days of Ostrava are gone.

We reconfirmed this information later when we met Chico in Bastila, who was even more bitter about the whole situation, saying that the drunk Polish tourists simply ruined the place. Even so, I started realizing that there were some possibilities exactly on that bar so we decided to stay for a while.

And finally, 48 hours after our arrival, I started to receive those “killing looks” which had put Ostrava on the top of my list as a must-go party city.

First, there was a group of older girls – they were between 35 and 40 – who were totally checking me and N out and one of them did not take her eyes from me. So after a while, and when a Latin song began to play, I moved towards her and grabbed her to dance, to which she got so perplexed that eventually refused it, saying that she could not dance. I got back close to N and excluded this girl of my prospects.

Meanwhile, there was another girl who was being hit by a guy but was also finding ways to look at me. There was a moment it was so obvious, even compelling, that I just had to approach her. Since she did not speak any English and N was not interested at all in her ugly friend, I picked up her number and told her, via the translation of her friend, that I would set up something on the day after.

Before we left, the girl who I had approached first was making me signal to go to her, towards which I smirked but made a “no” sign with my hand.

We left the bar, to the cold, empty street of Stodolni and we ended up in Dublin, the only bar which had some people and fun. Suddenly, we spotted two fucking hot teen girls, who must be models or something like that, but who were with the guy and gave no chances to any of us.

When we were about to raise the white flag, I spotted a very nice blond girl in her group of friends and, without any hesitation, I approached her. She turned to be a very nice girl, who curiously had already worked for Chico in Tuga Bar and who spoke very good English.

I could neither kiss her nor take her home – she still thought about it, but her friends cut all chances of success – and my only option was to collect her number, but I got the feeling that eventually I would still meet her somewhere in the future (actually we are still in contact).

Against all my expectations and desire, we ended up the night in a strip bar, with all those naked bodies reinforcing me the weight of frustration.

On the day after, I tried all my best to meet with the two contacts of the night before but, as a lieutenant colonel who watches his battalion falling, I accepted the defeat with no further consideration.

To complete the amazing weekend we had just had, I finished the Sunday going to the cinema with N, watching Nerve, a film about the nefarious effects of technology and how it can damage and even wreck a whole society. What a sweet irony.

 

 

Kharkov/Kiev, Ukraine

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2011: Let me introduce you to one of the cornerstones of my life, my first experience in the real Eastern Europe, that one far from all the European agreements and protective rules.

After a long, disappointing summer in Ibiza, there I was ready to embark on another trip, with no expectations whatsoever on what was about to come.

Because I had decided to go to Ukraine at the last minute, I had to find a journey with endless connections which, putting all together, took me 48 hours until I reach my final destination Kharkov, on a Saturday night at around 8 pm (before I had one of the craziest roller-coaster I have ever been in, from arriving in Kiev and trying to go Poltava – because my two friends were there – to then go to Kharkov, without sleeping almost anything in between).

When I finally arrived exhausted at the hotel room, my friend O (let’s just call him that), the “sickest” man I know in terms of women, just told me that I would have 5 minutes to make myself ready, as some Ukrainian friends of him were already waiting for us in the best club in town, Bolero. 

This almost caused me a seizure and a sudden will to punch him back, as I thought he was clearly making fun of me, after all the tiredness and hassle I had gone through. But well, with some swearing and difficulty in between, I was ready after 10 minutes and half an hour later we were arriving in Bolero, a place in which you can eat sushi from early in the evening and dance later on the night.

And while I was slowly getting into the mood of night, my eyes started noticing that the club was gradually becoming full, not of boys, guys or grandfathers, but of attractive young women. As the level of alcohol was already quite considerable, R (the other friend who was also the first time in Ukraine) and I began to behave a little bit like two excited kids looking at a bowl full of candies, as the number of women getting in Bolero was reaching an absurd level which I had never seen before.

When around 1 am I went to the dance floor and the night was starting for real, with the music getting on, there were perhaps a maximum of 10 guys and about 60 girls there. Maybe due to the fact I was already inebriate or simply because there were white effects and lights all over the place, I felt literally on heaven.

Details aside, two hours later I was making out with an 8 and half an hour later I was banging her hard at her place. I woke up on the next morning feeling like a king and wondering how such a great night had happened to me, coincidentally my first one in the Ukrainian territory.

During that Sunday afternoon, my friends and I were quite tired but O, never stopping to look for new opportunities, was already setting up a 3-on-3 date with a girl he had banged before in a previous trip to Kharkov and her two girl friends.

When they arrived at our place in the evening, there was a 7 and a 4 among the available girls and I, because I had such a Saturday night, just told my friend R that I would entertain the chubby girl in order that he could hit hard on the attractive one.

We went to a club and spent the night dancing, drinking and having fun with them but R, due his lack of game and assertiveness among women, had somehow been “friend-zoned” by his corresponding one.

When he left suddenly to take his girl home, O and I thought that he would score on that night, but when we arrived home one hour later, there he was sitting on the couch, with that hangdog look on his face.

As for the other two, they had accompanied us to our home and when I sat next to R on the couch, the “4” came running, jumped onto to my lap, put her blouse up started rubbing her tits on my face.

Due to her commitment, and because she had indeed a huge, nice breast and a nice face, I just fulfilled my duty as man and took care of her voracious needs, while O naturally also banged his girl.  Set aside was R, sadly lying on the living room’s floor, thinking most likely that better days on that trip would come.

During the week, there were no events which are worth noting, except that we went out again for real on Wednesday – where I picked two good contacts which eventually led to nothing – and that on the day after we woke up (again) with a big hangover.

But in Ukraine anything can happen (or at least it used to happen) and being hanged over, with no desire to do whatever, does not mean that girls will not look at you.

On that Thursday, R and I went for a late lunch in one of these great restaurants open 24/7 and when we seated down, two young girls immediately spotted us and started flirting with us. When I passed by them, the one who was looking directly at me looked indeed fat so, because I just wanted to recover my mind and body, I did not pay too much attention to their endeavors.

But when they stood up to leave the place, my mind froze: I had overlooked the physical attributes of this girl who had been looking at me, who was indeed amazingly hot. They even waved and told goodbye to us but I simply had no reaction (you stupid moron!).

I remember thinking some minutes later that in a city like Kharkov, you just need to leave house that the odds of meeting an attractive female, who actually is interested in you, are quite high.

And there we were, getting ready for another weekend on the city of dreams. Because we would go to Bolero on Saturday, we decided to go to Radmir, the second biggest (or best) club in Kharkov.

Twenty minutes after we arrived, there were a set of three girls, a perfect scenario which seemed pre-ordered especially to us. We immediately started interacting with them and, even if two of them spoken no English at, we were indeed communicating in the most natural way a human being was built to: using body language.

And it is also curious to notice how in human relationships there is – or it should be, at least in a healthy society – a process of natural selection, meaning that in this case and just in a couple of minutes, all the six people were paired with the ones who had the best chemistry with.

Even so, no one of us was getting successful but, in my case, I was feeling that my girl was totally into me and that she was not giving in perhaps because she did not want to be seen “doing things” with a foreigner in front of her friends.

That is why, when I encountered later on that night, alone in one part of the club, she gave no resistance at all when I went straight for the kiss. I could not take her home but I knew that she would be a reliable contact, as she had not taken her eyes from me and had kissed me back so passionately.

And the day of the greatest night of the week had arrived, with all our hopes, expectations and desires put on that Saturday, back in the club Bolero. In the end no one sealed the deal, but there were some happenings which deserve to be highlighted.

First my friend R, who had not been having the best of the weeks – but who eventually “decoded the Ukrainian chip” and was able to have a couple of bangs, during the three weeks he stayed there after I left – suddenly popped in front of me and O, walking with two girls, one on each side, going straight to the bar.

As he told us later on that night: “one of them even proposed me to go home with her but, since the night was being so good and I wanted to party more with you guys, I ended up refusing her proposal”.

It was the first time – and problably the last, by the way – I saw my friend R with a full abundance mentality, which unequivocally shows the possibilities Kharkov offers (or used to offer) to every single man looking for attractive women.

About me, since that would be my last night, I totally put aside the “collecting numbers mode” and went into full warrior mode, hoping to get lucky.

In the end I did not, but having made out with two girls – one of them actually approached me telling me how hot I was – and having enjoyed a great time with my friends, just proves that at least I was lucky enough to still discover a (happy) reality which perhaps does not exist anymore.

On my last day in that city, there was still time to meet the girl I had met on Friday night at Radmir (she had been the whole weekend at her family’s village) and to feel what a true connection between a man and a woman is, even if the vocal communication does not work due to language barriers.

With some google translator and smiles in between, I promised her that I would come back to Kharkov, since I was just going to Kiev to take care of some business issues. Worst than being a liar to others, is to cheat to yourself and do exactly the opposite of what your gut tells you to (which was exactly what happened by going back to my western home on the day after).

 

2016: This year I returned to Ukraine do a ten days trip in just a city, in order that I would have the best logistics possible, so I eventually chose Kiev – I had been before there in 2013, but just passing through in my summer circuit between Odessa and Crimea.

I know the comparison in this case will be a little bit inaccurate as we are talking about two different cities but, since this is a not an exact science, it will at least give you an idea about the current state of things.

Since I have written exactly an article with a detailed report from this Kiev trip, I am not going to repeat information so please check it and draw your conclusions about the (obvious) differences between Ukraine in 2011 and Ukraine nowadays.

 

 

Carnival in Brazil

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2006: Since the best comes last, I needed to leave Brazil to the end, as it was the eye-opener which represented the beginning of my will to explore the world and to know the realities which are more favorable for a man to be happy (as we all in this red-pill world know, happiness itself shall not be dependent on women but, exactly as “money does not bring happiness”, it surely helps!).

So in end of the summer of 2005 there it was this fresh ex-teenager who, after having banged the second woman of his life – the first was my ex-girlfriend of more than three years, whom I had broke up with exactly during that confusing summer – had no idea whatsoever of what was about to come.

To begin with, I had my second oneitis – and fortunately the last of my life – and I totally fell into a girl who basically dumped me a couple of months later, which meant that in the beginning of 2006 I was almost a soulless man, torn to pieces.

Meanwhile, my father had won a contest whose prize was two airplane tickets to Brazil, which he voluntarily and gladly offered to my sister and me. I remember that I was almost giving up on it, due to my incurable soul pain, but fortunately there was a very clever and wise part of me who just decided to go.

I arrived in the city of Fortaleza and in the first week I just the took the opportunity to visit some amazing natural places the Brazilian region of Ceará has to offer, whose maximum example of beauty lies on the crystal clear water of the Jericoacoara beach.

Tourism apart, on a warm Thursday night, there I was ready to board a bus which would take me, my sister and the rest of the group of young people (some of them friends of my sister, whom she had become acquainted with in Europe) on a 12 hours trip to Recife, home of the largest free Carnival in Brazil and one of the largest in the world.

While on the bus, and just after a couple of hours, the result was the following: half the group already knocked out and throwing up all the alcohol they had abruptly swallowed (it was the only time in my life I saw my sister throwing up due to drunkenness), the other half hooking up with one another.

This obviously included me and another girl, who was already saying that she loved me, a word with the same meaning as the return I was giving to her, by fingering her and putting my hands all over her.

When we arrived already on the Friday afternoon, we were exhausted but still went for a small trip around the Carnival of Olinda, the most famous of the region and the one which attracts more people during the day (people party here during the day, while at night go to the historical part of Recife, which hosts concerts and another carnival events).

But since I was so tired, I did not realize at that moment the potential of that place and even came out with the impression that perhaps that carnival was not so good as other had told me.

After a restorative night of sleep and a complete breakfast at the hotel we were staying at, I was fully ready to start the party and around 11 am I had already drunk three beers and was getting on a real party mode.

And it was around 12 pm that a futile event, which I am never going to forget again, changed my luck on that Carnival and ironically my life too.

A fucking hot mulatto woman, dressed in a sexy police suit, passed next to me, and my primitive subconscious acted and made me release the words “Hey! I have just committed a crime, what will be my punishment?” So this horny slut just came in my direction and said “oh really?” and first places herself behind me and starts touching me all over, until she then reaches my crotch and says: “I see you are armed”.

Then, she came to the front, bent on her knees and put her mouth on the exterior of my little friend. Finally, she stood up and kissed me in a way that I almost choked, by the depth she placed her tongue in my mouth. She then asked whether I wanted to go somewhere with her but, since I had been so flabbergasted (but delighted of course) by the whole situation, I just thanked her telling her that I would go back to my friends.

When she left, I saw these all of my friends staring at me, as if they were waiting for the outcome of something important, until I finally released a “uh uh!”, and they started laughing and clapping as if I had won some kind of competition.

From here on, there was a festival of fun and debauchery which has changed my life forever, as my mind was suddenly open to a world of endless opportunities, something I thought that would never be possible to exist.

In just four days, I made out with almost thirty girls and, even if I screwed only one of them, that happened because I was so into this frenzy mode that I simply could not concentrate just in one woman.

Just for you to understand the extent of it, in the last day of Carnival and having already made out with more than ten girls during that afternoon, for the first and only time in my life I said to myself: “You know what? I do not care about more girls today, I just want to have real fun and enjoy the party”.

Since not only I do not remember about half of the them I had something with but also I do not want to bother you telling you all the stories, I am just going to leave you with the most either funny or relevant ones:

  • I had not realized it at the moment, but afterwards one of the guys who was in our group came to tell me that I had simply made out with the best girl of Faculty of Economics, with the best woman of the Faculty of Medicine and also the best female of the law school of Fortaleza, a fact which I had no absolutely idea about and which, obviously, increased even more my hysteria and “king status” I was feeling after that crazy carnival;
     
  • In one of the many street raids and approaches I did, there was one in which I met two very cute girls and, since I was with that feeling that everything was possible, I indeed turned a very unlikely event into a real one: I grabbed the head of both and started kissing both, making a strange “kissing threesome”, perhaps the only one I have had in my life under these conditions;
     
  • There was a situation in which a hottie came into my direction and I, using the very direct Brazilian style, grabbed her hand to stop her, towards which she reacted negatively by pushing my hand away. When she was already 5 meters away, I shouted to her “Is this the way you treat an European person?”. She suddenly ceased her movement, turned to me and said “oh, you come from Europe”, as if all of a sudden I was the most attractive guy on hearth and she had already been into me in the first place. Just after a couple of seconds, we began making out with each other and some minutes later, she was already saying that she would like to be my girlfriend. Since I wanted to keep “that desire” for a later time, but wanted also and naturally enjoy the thrill of the Carnival, I collected her number and promised that I would meet her on that night (which eventually neither happened on that night nor in any other, due to the too many options I had to choose from in such a short period of time);
     
  • There was a group of people who were in a kind of fortress/balcony throwing water to the ones who were beneath it. When I passed by this place and saw that crowd having fun, I slowed down my pace but it was only when I looked up and saw a super sexy among these guys who were on the top using the hose, that I completely stopped and thought to myself that I would need to find a way to get to her. Therefore, as a total Spider-man, I began climbing the wall, to the astonishment but also cheer of the ones who were on the lower level, who started to support me, even if they had no idea of what I was doing. When I reached the top, I seated on the edge of the wall and, in a heroic move, Romeo and Juliet style, I pulled the hot brunette into me and started kissing her, an initiative she allowed without any resistance, as if she had just accepted a marriage proposal. Who did not accept it was one of the guys who came just afterwards and interrupted the whole scene, separating me from her and pushing me downwards, something which not only could have put my life in risk – since I could have fell from a 5 meter height – but also triggered boos and hisses from the audience who was watching the entire show from underneath. In the end, when I was descending the wall, I was greeted with applause, as If I were a brave general returning from a victorious battle;
     
  • In one of those million moments I had to stop for a pee – the level of beer ingestion was about one every thirty minutes – there was one in which a cute girl was passing behind me but I, still in the middle of the process of expelling liquids, was somehow “trapped”. But if there was one thing that this Brazilian party taught me was that the only limits which exist are the ones you set for yourself, so in that situation I just used the available hand  I had to stop the girl and say: “hey come here”, an indecent proposal she surprisingly did not refuse. In the end I managed only to kiss her for some moments but, being able to make out with a girl in such conditions, makes me wonder that over thinking and limiting beliefs are perhaps the worst enemies you can accept in your life;
     
  • There was this cocky girl, whom I had met on my first night wandering around Recife city center who, even if not despising me on that situation, neither gave me any relevant indicators of interest. But two days later, in the middle of one of my powerful street raids, with all the morale inherent to my levels of success, I met her by chance and I could tell you that I was more relentless than a cheetah on one of its hunting: I looked at her and without any explanation or question, I went to the kiss, towards which she reacted passionately and with pure desire. I met her on the next day, we hooked up again and I totally felt that with some work I could bang her, but since the abundance mentality was on the top and the logistics were not good at all, I eventually let go the opportunity of feeling those fleshy lips wrapping my excited Andreas Junior;
     
  • Before I hit the streets of Olinda, I had been given three advice: never to stay on the streets after 7 pm. never to use public transportation and never to go to a girl’s place. Well, on my third day of Carnival, having making out already with more than fifteen girls, I started thinking that perhaps was time to seal the deal, as kissing and partying around with as many women as possible was great, but to penetrate the depths of a Brazilian female for the first time would be much better. And while I was having these thoughts, suddenly a woman (she was perhaps almost 30) pops up in front of me and, as all the interaction I had on those streets of Olinda, it was easy as hell to start kissing her. But then, I decided to take things to the next level, by teasing and challenging her, towards which she totally reacted accordingly. So at around 7 pm, I began to leave the core of carnival and walking more to the outskirts of a party, to take a taxi heading to her place. As must admit that I was quite concerned on one hand, but on the other the adrenaline I was feeling made me forget about all the possible risks, even when I was arriving at her home and realizing the shit hole where I had gone into. Even so, all the experience (which could have been even better, as I was almost successful in having a threesome with her and her room mate, but which in the end I could only give some kisses to the latter) and company with her was excellent and, when I had to return to my hotel, she accompanied me until the bus stop, leaving me in a public bus full of thugs who probably thought: “this guy would not be so stupid to enter a bus, were he a foreign dude with some possession and a fine life in Europe”. So I eventually arrived home, to the amazement of the non-believers, safe and sound.
     
  • In the afternoon, before I met the girl I eventually slept with, I was going down the hill and suddenly spotted a brunette, whose green eyes I could see even from a considerable distance, whom I just needed to find a quick way to intercept and talk to along the way. I stopped her in such a decisive way that on that moment there was nowhere else she could go on earth. She smiled at me so genuinely, as if she were waiting for that rendezvous for a long time, that the next step was just kissing her as if there were no tomorrow. Since she had no phone – oh those glory, innocent days! – I told her in which hotel I was staying at and wanted her to meet me there on that night, towards which she was only answering “oh but you know I will not go”, but which I would also counter answer, “no, I know that you do because you want to me meet me again as much as I do”. When I was returning to my hotel (after having banged the girl of the previous story), the receptionist, whom I had already made friends with, told me: “hey Andreas, there was a stunning brunette who passed here looking for you, but I told her that you had not arrived yet”. So there I was playing the abundance game, wasting opportunities which would be gold on other moments but which in Brazil, on that hot February of 2006, were just a normal sequence of events.

 

2016: After having been in Brazil in 2014 for two months and having already realized a huge change in the mentality and behavior of women back then, I decided to ignore these red signals and to plan a big return to the land of debauchery, to somehow celebrate the 10th year anniversary of the event which I had changed my life and had rerouted it onto a total new direction.

But, as all of the trips I have been taking these last two years, it was quite disappointed for the most varied reasons. Again, since I do not like to be redundant and to repeat information, please check my article in which I report in detail what happened in this year’s Carnival, which also gives some hints about the current state of things in a country which used to worth every visit for a single man but is nowadays just a projection of what the globalization machine has turned the world into.

 


 

Conclusion

After bringing up all of these reports and stories which happened to me, the conclusions themselves can automatically be drawn and I have already talked about it in the introduction of this article.

To put it simple, the world has become a sad, fucked-up place and this is a reality which will not change so quickly as it has become decadent.

But, instead of looking into the past and remembering about the good old days, I want to focus on the alternatives which can still give a normal straight man the opportunity to have abundance among the opposite sex or, at least, to increase his chances to get lucky.  

I know that many of you are already thinking: “Hey Pistol, but what about the online (Tinder, social media, dating sites)? Is not it the obvious choice considering the current state of things? We have to adapt man, times have changed!”

Well, if you have been following my articles, this is in my opinion a solution which only works currently and in the short-term because, if we see the big picture and think in the long run, the consequences of relying on this beta way of interacting with women will be much more disastrous.

Therefore, since I believe there is still a chance on the real world, these are the possible solutions I would like to suggest to you:

  1. By far the worst solution in this list, you can of course keep insisting on any of these Eastern-Europe-locations-ruined-by-low-cost-carriers-and-stag-parties places as they are still better that any other city in the west. Nevertheless, you will be dependent on luck and at your own risk.
     
  2. If you are a self-made man, just move or spend a season in a city with more than one million people, which contains lots of hot women and it is not (so) infested by thirsty male sex tourists. I know that there are no magical or pussy lost paradises anymore, but I can promise you that if you live 3 months somewhere in Colombia, (south of) Brazil, Argentina, Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Ukraine, Belarus or Russia, you will give your body and mind the best possible odds of satisfaction. 
     
  3. If you are an employed rat with limited options in terms of getting away from the shitty place you work and live in, then I recommend the following:
     

    • Take three or four weeks and spend them in one city of any of the countries referred above. There will be no miracles, but you will increase a lot your possibilities of nailing local women, as long as they feel that you are somehow living in the same place as they are; 
       
    • Take another two weeks during the summer and go to a place where everyone goes to have fun. This is one of the oldest formulas for guys to increase their notch count but the truth is that it still works. Of course you need to be aware not to end up in a big sausage fest packed with thirsty tourists looking for easy sex – Ibiza and Croatia in the top of the list – but if you go somewhere in Portugal, Spain, Malta or Greece, you can be confident that you will find a good, or at least a normal ratio between men and women and that you will be in a place where almost everybody is there to party and, more importantly, where women will not be afraid of being seen as “whores”.

 

 

About the author: Andreas Pistol

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