A couple weeks back, I got busted for a DUI.
It’s the usual sort of thing, nothing special: I drank too much–way too much–and wanted to get home so I could take my son hiking in the morning.
But a mere mile away from the apartment, I saw lights flash behind me, pulled over, and was summarily tested and arrested for drunk driving. Notice that I’m still alive because I didn’t try to fight with the cops–turns out, complying is smart, even if you’ve been a complete fucking idiot to that point in the night.
In honor of the recently passed Father’s Day, some of my dad’s best advice: pick your battles.
In any case I didn’t have much to contest. I was wasted. She knew it (the cop was a chick–and like many chicks would have been pretty hot 30 lbs lighter, but alas). I knew it. The jackasses driving by probably knew it.
Anyway, a lot of you are probably asking…RPD, why are you telling us this? Surely you wouldn’t tell your ex-wife or the chicks you date/fuck?
And you’re correct: I would not–especially given that my ex-wife has the soul of Cersei Lannister. She’s a good mother for the most part, but an absolute cunt when it comes to having human emotions like forgiveness, compassion, or being able to show genuine love.
On that note, let’s start with a little redpill knowledge…
Lesson #1: Never tell anyone anything you don’t have to–the difference between POWER TALK and REAL TALK.
If they can use it against you or don’t need to know, you don’t need to say anything or tell the truth–why volunteer information that doesn’t help you? This is one aspect of POWER TALK.
POWER TALK = speaking to others in a way as to remain neutral or gain advantage socially and/or politically. Presenting one’s best self, exposing no criticisms. I’ve Italicized it here to show it leaning forward, a good metaphor for its nature.
Women almost always speak using POWER TALK, even to each other–even with those as intimate as their sisters and mothers.
Mind you, this isn’t dumb or mean on their part–it’s smart. If you admit no faults and take advantage when you can, you’ll usually end up ahead. From an evolutionary standpoint, chicks have a huge advantage in this regard, because a lot of men communicate using REAL TALK, assuming that others have their best intentions in mind.
One of the basic truths of TRP is that women do not reward honesty and therefore REAL TALK with them is dangerous–if you tell her something she shouldn’t know or doesn’t want to about you, it can backfire.
REAL TALK = honest conversation. Not necessarily spilling your guts without being prompted, but speaking honestly to the best of your knowledge without regard to how they affect social or political advantage with the group or other person–even if they reveal flaws or problems or inconsistencies or lies.
Anyway, I’ve learned to engage in POWER TALK with women and in general communication with anyone outside my intimate circle–like for example, most of the people I work with. I’m not phony or an asshole, it’s simply matter of not oversharing and watching what I say. Do I need to tell my SJW coworkers there are only two genders? No. Moreover, if I did, it could only turn out bad. No advantage = keep your mouth shut.
I engage in REAL TALK only with people I trust, where I know they won’t use my honesty or truth against me. One of the beauties of anonymity is you can use REAL TALK, because no one knows who you are and therefore, assuming people aren’t assholes who DOX, you’re fairly safe.
POWER TALK comes pretty naturally as I’ve always had a bit of a dark triad streak, or at least a political instinct that’s served me well. To be blunt: I can often get people to do what I want them to do, or steer them in a general direction that is neutral or beneficial to me.
But why am I telling you this?
Well, for one, to introduce the idea of POWER TALK and REAL TALK.
Some of you might be asking: so are your blogs REAL TALK or POWER TALK? Most of my writing is REAL TALK, although one could argue it’s also POWER TALK because it’s actually in my best interest to be honest, as it makes for better writing and will attract more readers, AND I’m still choosing what to share.
Oh, and before we go on, if I tweeted something that sounded uncalibrated or dumb or inaccurate that left you scratching your head–especially in the past 6 months–I was probably just drunk. Or stoned. But I haven’t lied. The field reports are real…go back and count the drinks on FRs–I had at least two more prior to the date.
It’s crazy though, because…
Lesson #2: being a drunk doesn’t help your game, but it also didn’t stop me.
In retrospect, game was bad for my love of booze, especially the way I chose to play it.
Because as many of you know, I like night game which lends itself to drinking. In addition, the best, easiest game plan in terms of getting laid once you’ve got a lead is to invite her for a drink near your house, have some drinks, then pull. If she’s not ready, venue 2, more drinks–if that doesn’t do it, venue 3…but at some point if your game is tight, after a few drinks most chicks will come back.
And I was very good at this. I have good to excellent in person game–teasing, touching, sexual eye contact going in for that first kiss–and for a good stretch I was in great shape and I scored a lot of first date lays as a result.
All the while I was drinking most nights after work, at bars trying to get numbers, on weekends with friends, etc.–but the takeaway here is that chicks really don’t know what’s going on in your private life, and what’s more, if it’s a casual thing, they don’t care.
That’s what all the “status/money” guys get wrong. If a girl sees you as the lover–the Chad, alpha, good genes, etc–she’ll fuck you regardless. She’ll fuck a guy in a van, as Mr. V has oft pointed out. She’ll fuck a meth addict, murderer, married guy, mobster…even a dirty alcoholic like your old buddy RPD (especially true if you clean your apartment/house first, have some bounce back liquor and a game plan).
But the point is I was able to get laid pretty consistently by a lot of different women even while drinking 4-5 days a week.
Irony was that life was better for me than life under quarantine under the Rona. I drank less when I was gaming–had to. You can’t be super wasted if you want to fuck a chick after all.
But when you’re working from home looking out at a pool that’ll turn out to be closed until July and fucking Bumble 30+ chicks is your best option…it’s really easy to grab a six pack and a bottle of wine and steak and binge GOT and be an absolute shit head.
Anyway…enough abasement, for now, because I got my comeuppance. We always do.
Lesson #3: Alcohol won’t stop you with women, but eventually it catches up.
I can’t even begin to count the number of times I’ve driven drunk. Or stoned.
To be fair, most of the time it was on rural roads and I wasn’t that drunk, so it wasn’t really all that dangerous.
But there have been at least two dozen other times I’ve driven drunk in addition to this last carnival ride where no amount of talking would’ve gotten me out of it. And I’m honestly not sure if I could quit without having some sort of stupid thing like this happen.
So it was only a matter of time.
And then you get that DUI because you won’t stop, can’t stop.
So anyway, the game didn’t get me, but the alcohol eventually got to the game.
I won’t be able to drive here at some point for at least 30 days, and because I’ve been drinking more, I’m out of shape, which mean getting chicks at a regular pace anytime soon is going to be somewhat more difficult–it’s amazing what a difference 20-25 lbs will make on a guys like me. Good news is I’ve been lifting, but my diet hasn’t been disciplined. Too much beer. Goes to show it mostly about diet–looking good that is…
I’ve got one woman I can have sex with (this Polish girl–maybe I’ll do a write up) on the regular, and a few others that are possibilities, but I’m not going to worry about chicks for awhile.
I’ve been talking about monk mode for a year, but what I really meant was that I needed to stop drinking. Now: monk mode’s upon me, whether I like it or not.
So why didn’t anyone help–weren’t there signs? Not really. See…
Lesson #4: When you tell people you drink too much, they don’t believe you.
Or, they don’t care.
Because drinking you is the fun, freewheeling person they know. They like that guy. They know him. He’s fun. And they secretly worry that alcohol is a critical part of the act, or they justify it because they drink too much as well.
It doesn’t excuse the fact I chose to drink, but I’ve told close friends I had a drinking problem…and two weeks later they’d be invite me over for a beer. Like, drinking was always my issue, but it would have been nice to have some support–awfully hard to quit when people are offering drinks.
Doesn’t matter though, because:
Lesson #5: It’s my life. My responsibility.
No one else’s.
If a man can’t stand on his own, he’s not much of a man. I’ve undergone a lot of tests in the past five years. Had a lot of victories as well. But men have been reborn with less.
So I’ll get the necessary counseling and join a support group, but like anything, it will ultimately come down to my will power–to masculine discipline, stoicism, determination, and strength.
But trust me brothers–I’ll get there.
And soon enough RPD will be back in the game. In the field. But for now…
Tell me your story.
I haven’t been checking my email inbox lately (too busy drinking and fishing), but I’ll start today–find my email by signing up to follow the blog or going to the contact page. Working on getting an official email list up and running–btw, if you know an easy way to do this, hit me up on my DMs.
Anyway, I know what it’s like to have people not believe you about your drinking or addiction.
So I will believe you. And I will listen. Because I know it’s real. I’ve done it.
Otherwise, for me, official monk mode has begun.
I have a bunch of blogs in the hopper, and I’ll be publishing more often–I’m stuck at home and there’s nothing else to do right now anyway other than go to the gym and get back in shape. Note: it’s mainly theory, because of the Rona–game has been somewhat limited. So unless I get a bit lucky and something little darlin falls in my lap, probably not a ton of field reports. Shooting to get back into day game and cold approach in August.
Kinda unbelievable what a fucking disaster 2020 has been so far. Rona, riots, the death of the First Amendment, and now in my own personal life a goddamn DUI.
Here’s a bizarre one for you:
Coming back from fishing this past weekend, I noticed the truck wasn’t running like it should coming up the east side of the mountains, and as we crested I looked back to see that the right wheel of the trailer for the boat was glowing and sparking and the wheel was shaking–so I pull over into the nearest parking lot, and sure enough, the bearing is just fucking blown out and the axle is leaking massive amounts of grease, the thing is smoking…
So we tucked it in the woods up on a dirt road and left the damn thing.
I shit you not.
Shitty fucking year. Weird too.
Like, somehow got 4 lays from online! That’s ridiculous. And only 1 day game, zero night game–although the window has been short on that. A few residual lays.
Three final things:
- The Rona is real–if you think it’s a conspiracy…I mean, come on man. I’m not telling you how to feel about it politically, but let’s not live in fantasy tin-foil hat land. If this is fake, your burden of proof is pretty fucking high given that lots of people now know someone who’s had it or died–including me
- The economy is going to tank unless the government acts…it seems OK now, but by October shit will hit the fan without more stimulus. Again, not telling you how to feel about that politically, just stating the likely truth unless there’s some miracle I’m not aware of. And one thing guys should think about is that players should want life to return to normal ASAP. The longer this bullshit lasts and the more instability there is and economic pain, the harder it’s going to be to run game…unless it’s because chicks get more desperate. Could happen, but I doubt it.
- Aliens are coming next. Just you watch.
Since we’re at the end, let just say: in all honesty, 2020 has so far been the worst year in recent history to be a player. There has arguably been no worse time since the Great Depression…
Crazy thing is: because I’m a player, I got laid anyway. And, I have the wherewithal, resources, support, and strategy to get out of this mess…
Because of the The Red Pill.
So that said…Let’s go.