Having made my mind up a couple of days ago to bring my flight home forward, yesterday I partook of about 6 iced Vietnamese coffees (to which I seem to have become addicted – it’s the condensed milk, so bad for you, but so good…) before boarding the ferry back to Sihanoukville from Kho Rong.
The journey back was smooth and uneventful, aside from making 2 more manosphere converts – I feel like a prophet on this trip, the number of people I’ve introduced to the red pill.
The journey over there had been far from smooth however, with the sea being churned up into frothing chasms and ridges by very high winds, our small fishing boat being tossed around like a dinghy. I actually quite enjoyed it (I’ve always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and besides, we all had life jackets. I was more worried about my laptop), and yet a sizeable portion of the passengers insisted on recounting the tale of how they just “nearly died” when we reached the island. Pussies.
I checked back into the place I’d stayed a few days prior, booked my bus to the airport for the following day, and set out to find food. I was immediately drawn to a steakhouse offering a 1.5kg challenge burger – $150 to make an attempt in 45 mins, but $1000 prize money. I’ve done 1.5kg of meat in one sitting before, but figured $150 was a lot to risk if I failed, so I opted for a mere 600g instead. Upon inhaling the food like it was a happy meal in under 5 minutes, the owner confided that he was glad I didn’t take the challenge.
Unfortunately, that was not to be the last I saw of that burger. Awakening at 4am with searing pain in my gut, I staggered to the bathroom, heaving violently, before then embarking upon what I can only describe as a 4 hour test of all the mental fortitude I’ve built up so far in life. Waves of prickling pins and needles alternating hot and cold swept up and down by body, and pouring with sweat, I struggled to even remain upright on the toilet as the room spun wildly around me. Such was the ferocity with which “material” was coming out of both ends simultaneously, I’m surprised I didn’t implode. I’m not too proud to admit I actually had to choke back a sob at one point – the times in my life I’ve had food poisoning before really are the worst I’ve ever felt.
I’ve just about recovered now, and have moved my flight til tomorrow. Hopefully Heathrow will be open, there’s a lot of snow over Europe at the moment. Through which I will saunter in my shorts and flip-flops, having yet again forgotten to pack a change of clothes for my return. A strong look I feel.
I’m looking forward to getting back, getting back to the gym, my projects, my apartment and my lifestyle. I’ve got 3 prospects lined up – a girl who I banged as a ONS back in November (who I then subsequently found out that I get on better with than any girl I’ve ever met), a solid 8.5 I’ve been working on online, and a professed lesbian who fancies only women – and me. She refers to me as “her kryptonite” – always nice to know you can turn a lesbian! Last time I saw her, I ended up fingering her. You can tell that minge has never had any cock in it, it felt absolutely incredible.
I’ve also got a session booked with Steve Jabba. I’m looking for him to push me out of my comfort zone to start hitting on the 9s and 9.5s that I’m only genuinely attracted to. I figure I’ve got the core confidence and value already – I just need a kick up the arse. Needless to say, I will be attempting to squeeze every last bit of information out of him possible. I love being around those more accomplished than me in an area of expertise which I care about – it brings the competitor in me alive, and makes determined to raise my own level to theirs, and to know everything they know.
After something of a girl hiatus for the last couple of months, I’m ready to push on again, and reach this top tier I keep spouting off about. I may have also found a solution to the alcohol problem, watch this space. Onwards and upwards…