I’ve had two scenarios that rival this one:

- One time a girl broke into my apartment by ripping off the screen to my window and crawling through. She then waited for me for hours to come home because I hadn’t returned her calls in two days. I had only been seeing her for about a month. Somehow, I ended up seeing her for another year. She was bonafide nuts, but all in all, her nutso behavior was usually good towards me after that. She was great in the sack, spoiled me rotten and let me sleep with other women. Shrug.

- Another time I was supposed to go ice-skating with another girl on a Sunday. She called me at 8AM excited and ready to go. She said she wanted to leave then so we could spend the whole day together. I had been up until 3AM partying the night before, and told her I felt like shit and that I’d call her when I woke up, hung up and went back to sleep without thinking much of it. When I woke up at about noon, I had three voicemails and two MySpace messages from her alternating between violently screaming at me for standing her up, and apologizing and telling me she loved me. I never called her again. She sent another half dozen MySpace messages over the next three days, again, alternating between angry hysterics and heartfelt apologies. The ice-skating date was supposed to be our third date. Looking back, I think she was probably bipolar.

Every guy has a “girl with the crazies” story. What are some of your worst ones?

It’s pretty well known that if you go out with a friend who’s really good looking or really good with women, you’ll automatically become more attractive as well. I experienced this for months with a natural friend of mine. It’s something I call “Attraction by Osmosis” and explain it here.

Well last night, I got opened twice and caught maybe 3-4 girls eye fucking me like hungry dogs staring at a steak. The thing is, EVERY guy in the venue was your typical metal head: fat, hairy, smelly, wearing shitty band t-shirts that were four sizes too big. By comparison I suddenly became the Brad Pitt of the venue.

I always had a theory in college. Do you know why really ugly girls will sometimes be best friends with really hot girls? To feel better about themselves. You know why hot girls become best friends with ugly girls? Same reason. Apparently it works for guys too.

But didn’t really matter, I spent most of the night getting my ass handed to me in the pit. Was worth it.

Yes, I’ve become what I loathed… But it’s so pretty… and easy and efficient too! It can do anything a PC can do but bet–

FUCK!

It’s happening already.

That’s Greg Howe. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve played guitar since I was about 10 years old, attended musical school, and even toyed with the idea of becoming a professional musician in the past. Greg Howe’s been my favorite guitarist for like seven years now.

Well, my girlfriend got me an hour-long Skype/Webcam guitar lesson with him for my birthday!

Aside from being insanely excited, I’m fucking terrified. I feel like a 16-year-old girl about to meet Justin Timberlake. I’m freaking out. I’ve barely practiced in weeks. What am I going to say? Oh my God… I haven’t been this intimidated about talking to someone in years! LOL!

When I started getting my inner game together a few years ago, I was soon able to point out the “toxic” people in my life — the people who consistently detract value without adding it; the people who consistently start drama and stress rather than connection and joy.

I soon became ruthless about not allowing these people in my life. I coldly cut some of them out of my life, and others slowly faded to the background. I pride myself a great deal in that I don’t put up with unnecessary bullshit from people, and won’t hesitate removing them from my social life.

Well, I’ve been put in a frustrating situation in the last few months. My girlfriend’s sister moved to Boston and has recently been a large part of our social life together. And well, she sucks. She’s one of those people that just plain fails at life. And I don’t mean in any worldly sense: she’s incredibly smart, successful, has a lot of friends, etc. I mean from a happiness, centered perspective, she fails on just about all marks.

The problem is, she’s started making my girlfriend’s life hell, and transitively my life hell. She’s one of the most toxic people I’ve met in a long time. The problem is, I can’t simply cut her out and neither can my girlfriend. She consistently sucks my girlfriend into bullshit drama, and then manages to get me sucked in as well, and the results well… suck.

So in ode to the girlfriend’s sister, I want to run down a list a ways to fail at life. As you read these, ask yourself these questions: “am I like this?” and “do I know someone who’s like this?”

If you answer yes to the former, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD CHANGE YOURSELF. NOW. FOR YOUR OWN SAKE AND EVERYONE WHO KNOWS YOU, CHANGE.

If you answer yes to the latter, consider cutting that person out of your life (if reasonable).

1. Take responsibility for your actions and emotions – This drives me absolutely crazy in people. It’s not coincidence that the people who are constantly miserable, complaining or involved in some sort of drama are always the people who refuse to take responsibility for their actions.

Case in point: sister calls girlfriend, says we should all meet up and hang out. No specific time is given, and sister never shows up. Girlfriend and I give up and leave. Sister calls the next day screaming that girlfriend stood her up and then proceeded to blame it on me for no justifiable reason.

Truth: It was a mis-communication, and although my girlfriend took responsibility for leaving and not telling sister, sister never took responsibility for no-showing. As a result, sister remains pissed off and feels like she’s owed something.

2. Don’t judge people until you actually get to know them. – I have a zero tolerance policy on judgmental people. Until you really get to know someone’s character, there’s no sense in judging them on any external part of them: i.e., how they dress, how they look, their job, their friends, etc. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve assumed someone was a douchebag or bitch, but once I talked to them a bit, they were a really incredible person.

Case in point: sister meets me for the first time, musters up a meager conversation. Things are stilted and awkward. I find out later that she knows about my job and greatly disapproves of it. Instead of actually talking to me about it and trying to get to know me, she goes and tells my girlfriend’s family that I’m a scumbag, don’t actually love her and was inconsiderate when I met her.

Truth: The verdict was in before she even met me. Instead of getting to know me, she just observed the little she needed to support her pre-ordained opinion about me. As a result, every interaction we’ve had since then has been twisted to support the conclusion she had about me before she even met me. She still doesn’t like me. We still haven’t had an actual conversation.

3. Don’t build rapport through negativity – Having a mutual complaint with someone else is a very quick way to build rapport. But this rapport is unstable and unhealthy, as it just amplifies the unhealthy emotions within yourself.

I think everyone has known or met someone who makes and maintains friendships through complaining or talking shit about other people. Although everyone experiences some negativity to a degree, relying on negativity to create a social life is unhealthy and unproductive. You’ll end up alienating just as many people as you make friends.

4. Don’t be dramatic. Get over yourself. Be humble. – Have you ever played with third world kids who are happy just to eat once a day? Have you ever had to sit in a hospital and console a teenager who got stabbed over $200 worth of drugs? Have you ever watched your friend drown right in front of you?

No? Then shut the fuck up about someone canceling a Sunday brunch, acting as if it’s the it’s the end of the fucking world. It doesn’t matter and neither do your bitchy fucking complaints. Get over yourself and shut the fuck up.

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OK, I feel better now…

Which PUA’s you ask? We made quite the rounds this trip. Among spending time with DJ Fuji (Mehow’s top instructor), the ever-lovely Erika, and Megatron (currently in the running in both Practical Pickup’s Coolest Former Student Award and Most Fucked Up Sense of Humor that would Make El Topo Wince Award — BTW, Megs, your blog is pink and looks really gay), we spent some quality time with old skoolers Cameron Teone and Formhandle (of Fast Seduction fame) — and this isn’t even to mention a bizarre text correspondence I had with Hypnotica… brother.

We giggled while Cameron frantically hit on LA platinum blonde crackwhores with fake tits… Well, they giggled, I mostly drank.

Fuji’s mohawk now glows in the dark. Which was helpful because Cameron’s apartment lacked such modern affairs as electricity and dining room furniture. But he sure as fuck had Chex Mix and beer.

I once fucked a girl in a church. This was considered appropriate dinner conversation.

We gave an amazing and dynamic talk to a group of 50+ guys — except I forgot our products in Boston and we didn’t convert one single bootcamp sale. One bootcamp student’s credit card got declined… after a full day’s coaching. If I’m homeless in two months, you won’t have to ask why.

Woo woo spiritual shit actually works. Who knew? Erika might as well be friggin’ Ms. Cleo the way she reads my mind. She cured Formhandle’s cough and my indigestion with nothing but her hands. Doc was skeptical, so she put her hand on his chest and he almost started crying. Respect the woo woo.

We taught, “What’s black, blue and hates sex? … The five year old in my trunk,” as an opener… and it hooked. Take your routine’s manual and wipe your ass with it.

The trip was pretty awesome, and I actually didn’t have a typical “Vegas experience” the first few days because we were so busy teaching bootcamp.

But it caught up with us. I’ve slept five hours total the last two nights. The first night, we went to a strip-club and Sinn and I ran stripper game. I had actually never been to a strip club before — I was always either in a relationship, broke, or couldn’t really wrap my head around the idea of paying a ton of money to look at boobs. But Sinn gave me the crash course and away I went. Within minutes of walking in, I was talking to three strippers.

Obviously Vegas strip clubs have extra “perks” if you want them. It was a hell of an experience. Some strippers had some serious game, and cracking them is like a riddle. They tend to have very strong frames and know better than to qualify themselves to you or let you run too much comfort.

The funniest part came when a girl was inviting me to the back to have “extra fun” with her. I turn this girl down as softly as I can to try and keep her talking to me. She asks me why I won’t do it and I tell her, “Well, I can either pay you $100, or I can just go to a regular night club and spend a few hours talking to girls and get laid for free.”

She then got visibly pissed off. She said I shouldn’t go fuck random sluts. This made me LMAO in her face, considering she had just finished propositioning me 10 seconds prior. I point out that considering she’s a whore, who is she to hate on girls for being “sluts”?

She replied that, “They have no self-respect, because they give their bodies away for free.” Hooker logic… WTF?

It’s like a deranged form of feminism.

The next night was much less exciting. Sinn and I got hammered, blew a bunch of money in blackjack while openly wishing terminal illnesses unto our dealer and his family. We then stumbled to a diner and talked about how awesome Michael Jordan was until the sun came up. Don’t even think we talked to a girl the entire night.

I slept two hours and came to the airport still drunk. I threw up a little in my mouth going through security.

I’m fine now.

Thursday, I headed over to a British friend’s place — he was holding Thanksgiving for Thanksgiving orphans. This is the first time I didn’t go home to Texas for the holidays, so it was nice to hang out with a bunch of friends and meet new people.

The meal and everything was great. One guy brought over four different Brazilian/Latina girls. They were nice, but I didn’t find any of them particularly attractive. I thought it was kind of funny though, because he’s going one on four with them and his friend just sat idly in the other room, doing nothing for him. The dude needed a wing. Myself and the host helped out a bit but then the guy switched targets after like two hours… and then an hour later he switched AGAIN. Oh, and now his friend finally comes in and occupies the first girl his friend was hitting on. All in all, it was a pretty textbook example of how NOT to handle set logistics and how NOT to wing. Both of these guys are in the community too. So if you guys read this, you seriously need to practice winging and coordinating! Shame!

Anyway, this 40-year-old cougar somehow got me on her lap and started giving me a back rub. Note to women: I’m the biggest whore for a good back rub. Start rubbing my back and I’ll do just about anything. No shame.

Well, after awhile the cougar starts not-so-subtly discussing how good she is at giving head and how men are never able to handle her. It’s pretty obvious what she wants.

I get up and go to the kitchen to get a drink and she follows me. As I grab the bottle I turn around and she’s just standing there facing me. Moment of truth… do I do it?

Nope… couldn’t. A year or two ago, I probably would have, but I just wasn’t attracted to her enough physically. As much as I love cougars, for whatever reason, once they’re more than 15 years older than me, it’s not hot anymore.

So the rest of the evening was spent subtly avoiding her. Luckily some other girls came over.

The next girl I ended up talking to was interesting. She was kind of edgy, had tattoos, black hair. Caught her looking at me a lot, so I eventually took the opportunity to sit next to her. Kino (on each other’s tattoos), and immediately get the conversation sexual. We quickly got into some kinky shit. I don’t even remember how, but I think I was telling her about the time I had a SNL where the girl wanted me to punch her in the face (I don’t mean hit or slap, I mean wind up and punch her), and how I couldn’t bring myself to do it and left.

Next thing I know, we’re talking about pissing on her and how she likes to be shackled up and treated like a slave. Uhh… whoa.

This conversation goes on for a bit and I’m getting tipsy. I pretty much tell her at point blank, “You know, I’d totally be down for that sometime.” These days, when I’m in deep comfort with girls I’ll usually just tell them out right what I want to do with them and it works better than anything else.

She smiles and says she has an exclusive boyfriend… and no they don’t do threesomes. What?! That’s so lame. But she gives me her number anyway in case things change.

Next day, I’ve got a one on one the first half of the night. But I run into a bunch of the senior Boston Lair guys — guys I haven’t gone out with and sarged with in a long time. I’m coaching until about midnight, and finally get in state and interested in sarging by about 1AM. (For whatever reason, coaching requires such a different mindset, that it’s actually hard to sarge for yourself and coach at the same time or in the same night… at least for me it is.)

In the meantime, I end up spending a long time goading these guys (was still a bit in coaching mode). One of them was the creepiest staring guy I’ve ever seen in my life. (Mr. Awesome, if you’re reading this, he made your worst nights look very tame). A girl would be 10 feet away and he’d just stare her down with his mouth open for a good 15 seconds, visibly creeping her and the rest of us out in the process.

The other senior lair guy, who has some game, then practically wet himself over a “perfect 10″ (She was like an 8.5 at most). So I twisted his arm to go direct on her for 20 minutes. This guy is pretty good and respected up here in Boston. So it was kind of fun to watch approach anxiety get the best of him. He eventually did open her, but it didn’t go anywhere.

So finally, I’m just standing around and all the sudden my buddy says, “Hey dude, that girl checked you out as she walked by.” I look over to see a tall brunette walking away. 5′9″, super skinny (model’s body), long legs, long brown hair — TOTALLY my type.

I walk straight over her. Go direct. Cold read — read is dead on, chick freaks out. Fluff a minute, tease her about her job. She gives IOI’s. I kino. Bounce to dance-floor in 10 minutes. Yup… STILL GOT IT.

But wait… shit’s fucking up. She will only dance with me for 30 seconds at a time or so and she keeps getting distracted by her friends. This is a fuck-up report right here guys, it turns out I was pretty rusty after all. I should have at least gotten a make out from this chick. For whatever reason, I read the situation that her buying temperature wasn’t high enough and so I kept caveman’ing her back to the dance floor, where she’d dance for 30 seconds, get awkward and start talking to her friends again. At the time, I was kind of at a loss for what was going on, I just assumed she wasn’t attracted enough, so at last call I just bailed.

Looking back, I think she just didn’t really dance a lot. Why? She was a bad dancer. She was an engineer (i.e., dork). She responded extremely warmly every time I cavemaned her, and when I pushed her about logistics, she was sure to make a point to say, “I don’t have a boyfriend and I definitely don’t want one.” (By the way, I responded, “Yeah, I don’t want a boyfriend either.”)

I should have cavemanned her to isolate and ditched the dancing. Should have been even more aggressive with the kino as it was last call anyway. Oh well, my wing wasn’t getting anywhere either, so we bounced.

But what I actually wanted to talk about was an interesting experience last night. File the following story under the “Talk to everyone/Be naturally social” lesson of PUA/life.

We finished up the first night in-field of our bootcamp here in Austin and I hopped in a cab to head across town. Usually, as long as the cab driver speaks English and isn’t on his cell phone, I’ll talk to him and ask him where he’s from. I’ve traveled to many countries and studied International Politics in college, so I’m usually genuinely interested what some of these guys’ stories are.

I’d say once in a blue moon I hit a cab driver with some really cool shit to talk about. Well, this guy took the fucking cake.

He was from Ethiopia. I originally related by telling him how my girlfriend travels to Tanzania and does a lot of educational and development work there. Tanzania is close to Ethiopia and Kenya. We talked about Swahili and somehow we got into his life story.

This guy’s family was a high-ranked political family in Ethiopia in the 90’s. His father was one of the main ministers in the government. When he was a teenager his father was assassinated and his family was thrown into exile in Kenya. Not only that, but the opposition party and militants began hunting his family down in Kenya as well. He related stories about hiding in random people’s homes for days, eating leftover food and sometimes not at all with his mother and sisters.

Finally, the American Embassy granted his family asylum in the US and so here he is, driving a cab in Texas. The guy didn’t know his way around town to save his life (objectively, he was a fucking horrible cab driver), missing turns and all sorts of crap. But he was well-spoken, intelligent and extremely interesting.

He turned off the meter in the parking lot and we sat there for another five minutes talking about African governments and the culture of east Africa.

I guess the lesson is you don’t have to number-close or befriend people to get value out of talking to them. It’s also that you never know when someone with an amazing perspective and story is sitting right next to you.

- The girls are overrated. They’re not that hot. They’re like any other girls in the country except with nicer tans and nicer clothes. Blow outs here are not more common nor are they harder. I don’t think Doc and I got blown out our whole time here. I find that really the differences around the country are blown out of proportion. People really aren’t that different and that includes hot girls. (For your info, in my experience, NYC has the hottest girls and Miami is the hardest place to sarge).

- It’s ironic that one has to come to a city where it never gets cold to see every guy wearing a scarf.

- The stereotype is true, almost every person I met here in LA has two occupations: what they really do and what they want to do. Some of the people I met were: waitress/actresses, bartender/musicians, administrator/writer, etc.

- Best exchange of the weekend:

Her: “I’m trying to get a job at Fox News.”
Me: “Jesus Christ, kill yourself.”
Her: “Oh my God, that would be horrible.”
Me: “You’re right. Take a gun to Fox News, kill all your co-workers, and THEN kill yourself.”
Her: “No! There will be no killing at Fox News.”
Me: “Come on, do your country a favor. You’re obviously not a patriot.”

For your info, the girl kept talking to me for another five minutes until my student got her friend’s number and ejected.

- Highlight of night game: blasting the worst Tejano music imaginable while cruising down Sunset Boulevard.

- A big shout out to the guys we’ve met out here. Thanks to CaptainHook and Megatron for their amazing hospitality. Seriously, our bootcamp and talks may not have happened without you guys. Thanks to J the Ripper for setting up our talks. Thanks to the Casanova Crew — seriously one of the most solid group of guys of any lair we’ve visited.

- We met Vince Kelvin while out here. He’s SERIOUS old school and possibly the highest-energy person I’ve ever met. But the guy is one of the kindest and most genuine people I’ve met in the community and he’ll be hosting Doc on his free call tomorrow. Check out Doc’s Blog for more info.