I’ve never done anything wrong in my life. But I have drawn the ire of HR professionals, Compliance Managers, assistant principals, and men who are too close with their moms, for time immemorial.

Thus it’s perfect that God has deigned me important enough to come to the country’s biggest HR conference and drum up some business. While the good lord didn’t think to make me smart enough to not have to be a salesman, he at least gave me the ability to chat with people and intrigue them.

Here’s what checking in at an HR conference is like: there are a few dozen women doing the job that 4 men could reasonably do if the system was better. They send you between each other as they are very scared of having a sponsor at whatever tier I’m at get my badge printed by the wrong individual. Unfortunately only one of them is competent and so everyone is being funneled to her. The line to see the one woman in HR who can make an executive decision such as printing out a small badge is very long. When you inquire why she’s the only one who can do it given there’s a dozen badge printers they explain in so many words that she’s the only person who’s not under fucked or otherwise so jaded that she’s still able to do a job in a way that’s useful to people who rely on said job.

Once you’re in and badged the fun begins. I am one of 20 guys here there are a few thousand women. I’ve been getting a ton of pussy in the city lately and they smell it on me. Lots of time wasters in here to find a few key decision makers. The smell the desperation. They know I’m here for them. They want to pretend they’re here to learn about AI. These are the people who AI won’t replace. They have cocooned themselves in bureaucracy and gatekeepers and languages and codes that no robot can rip off. They’re eager to replace their recruiters with AI. There’s no one they hate more in their companies than the hot young women who bring in talent. They hate when people join the firm.

I’ve only just arrived and I’ve decamped to a craps table. The minimums are too high at the casino this conference is at. I don’t care if I lose every cent I can only breathe the poison for so long. Out of one into another. No respite for me. My buddy got me a table at ███████ tonight. I’m gonna eat Molly and see if one of the bottle girls will jack me off. I’m gonna end up texting a girl I should be avoiding texting when I’m fucked up. It’s too new. Like a raw wound she should be left alone until the bleeding stops.

Every year at every job I have sat thru a training module explaining to me that when the fellas and I rate the chicks at work on how fat their asses are that makes us Hitler. If you grab someone’s ass at the holiday party that’s wrong and probably you should be fired. Or at least given a stern talking to.

The truth of the matter is that my only encounter with workplace sexual harassment is when I was very young guy in my career and a single mom wouldn’t stop touching me and trying to fuck me. My boss eventually asked how her pussy was and I had to admit that I didn’t want to mix business with business. He called me a faggot.

After thanksgiving, he returned to the office and told me he told the story to his brothers and they couldn’t believe he hired a gay kid. I laughed and I never did fuck █████

Of all the dumb therapy speak nonsense women and girls subject me to the concept of negging is the most mind numbing. The contention is that by insulting them I lower their self esteem which makes them more likely to fuck me. That’s what’s written in the textbooks anyway.

Back in my day this was called teasing, and it signaled that you could both laugh at yourselves. This was also back when people called talking to girls flirting. A different time indeed. Anyway, the first time I ever heard this was 5 years ago in LA. ██████ goes “you really like negging me”. And I said what’s that mean. And she gave the above definition.

I fucked her that night so she certainly made her point.

The good lord has blessed me with enough intellect and charm that I’ve had the great fortune of visiting many incredible cities all over the world.

Vienna, Sardinia, Seoul, Hvar, you get the picture. But amongst all the great cities in all the countries I’ve visited there is one that stands out as uniquely crafted for a man of my tastes. That city is Sapporo, Hokkaido, Japan.

I want to take a note here to say that at the time of this writing the world has decided that white boys loving Japan is cringe. Ok fine. But I’m better than them because I hate Tokyo. Or I’m no better than them for that same take. Who cares let me tell you what Sapporo has.

Sapporo has three main industries: Beer, Ramen, Soaplands

The famous Sapporo brewery of course is in town and beers in this city are dirt cheap and taste fresh as a Coors at a Rockies game. Because of this heritage the drinking spots are excellent. This big great engine of a local global brewery powers the town. Idyllic.

Next is Ramen. Ramen as a food is as beautiful of an invention as Pussy or at least ████████ pussy. Sapporo has the traditional ramen alley. This is a bit kitschy but very classic lamp lit alleyway style with two dozen choices. Sapporo specialty is a pat of butter in a very spicy bowl. It’s heavenly. Maybe if I really want to ruin my life I’ll figure out how to add photos to this blog.

Anyway Sapporo also has New Ramen Alley which is in the first floor of a traditional Japanese building where floors 2-7 are billiards, hooker Karaoke, and other such frivolities. It’s here that I ate the best bowl of my entire life better than the 50 other bowls I’ve tried in Nippon.

More than the beer and the ramen is the incredible degenerate culture that runs through the city given it’s the only major city in an otherwise remote snowy mountainous part of Japan. Lots of Plinko halls, lots of underground gambling, lots of Hostess bars, but all I care about is the incredible pussy at ██████ Soapland. I’ve been to incredible brothels all over the world and I’ve convinced plenty of girls to fuck me just for being funny but the experience at a Soapland is unique. For one it’s an hour long where the give you an edging massage for 50 minutes. Real tantric trained for this shit. Two the selection of women for the Japanese palette is too shameful for me to write about in full, but it could scratch anyone’s itch.

These places are so wonderful and everything else there is so perfect that it’s hard to believe a place like this exists. Perfect trains. Cool climate. Gorgeous everything. Bury me in Sapporo under a pile of Japanese whores and ramen.

Ever since I was a very young boy I have enjoyed buying presents for women. Nowadays, this makes you a simp or some other such non-Clavicular loser. But this is stupid, for one thing a nice gift may stay with them long after they're done with you, and it may even spur their brains to begin misremembering the relationship entirely.

My most recent love interest █ █ █ █ █ was an excellent gift giver. I mean phenomenal. And in return I brought her back something very nice from Nippon. My hope is that she looks at it wistfully, as I do all the nice things she got me. I texted her yesterday because I was wearing the █ █ █ █ █ █ █ she bought me.

I try to make sure I have all my exes addresses current. Send them holiday cards, lingerie, hoodies I think they'd like. Flowers on holidays when I know their BF is fucking up, flowers on a random day to try and ruin their relationship. Whatever, it's all fun and games.

It feels like I am alone in this endeavor, nevertheless... It's a true joy of mine.

Some of my guy friends like to cry their eyes out about how hard the world is for them. They workout they’re tall they make a couple dollars. Woe is them they say this sad dating market. If only Hinge didn’t exist. If only they married the one girl who liked them. If only the world was arranged slightly different at a molecular level then they would be who they should be.

I’ve been getting pussy since before I even knew what it is. I’ve been endowed with plenty of gifts, but none more than anyone else, save my generous heart and my wit. Both trained as a muscle regardless.

If I have to listen to one more guy I know cry about women I’m hitting them like of mice and men (forgive my literary references I’m functionally illiterate). Grow up. Every girl wants to be approached and fucked. They don’t even care what you look like despite what the world leads you to believe. They barely even care what you say to them. They’re mysterious creatures and I’m not going to pretend I understand them. But I understand this: we’re all pretty close to each other it doesn’t take much to get a little bit closer. Happy Valentine’s Day I’m gonna leave with something tonight or I’m gonna throw up on my shoes.

I’ve had first dates on Valentine’s Day and I’ve had anniversary’s on it. It’s a great holiday. There’s a girl who’s name is █ █ █ █ █. Who I took to a total dive in LA on V day a few years ago. I think, and my brain is shit from the drugs and such, but I think it was called something like “Moms Bar”. Anyway it was across the street from her place. I fucked her while her stupid dog watched.

3 months later she was so deeply in love with me she made the same mistake they all make. She fed me bourbons and asked me if I fucked anyone else in the last 3 months.

The funny thing in my life is the only domestic violence in my life is as a victim. All good they can smack the shit out of me if it suits them. Who am I to deny women the right to hit me.

Anyway. That was the end of that. Cool girl though, she shot a commercial for Zaxbys (my favorite chicken chain) that set a world record for something I can’t remember. She was cute. I shoulda lied to her. I only lie to girls when I meet them. Once they’re back at my house I can’t lie. They don’t really understand this dynamic the way I do obviously, so it’s still advantageous but it’s moral.

Two interesting things happened to me today.

The first was the membership ambassador at Equinox asked me if I had a preference for trainer for my complimentary ‘Equifit Training Program’. I said either a cool black guy or a hot white girl I guess. I think that’s the answer most people would give but idk. She seemed satisfied with it fwiw. If I had to I would say most of my friends would answer the same way but I don’t speak for them so maybe they’ll tell me once I publish this.

The second was I was on the APTLY named L train and a young man was smoking weed and playing music from a Bluetooth speaker. I’m not too brave to say that I do find this behavior to be hmm not frightening but not exactly pleasant and certainly activates a bit of fight or flight. Or I guess in my case just flight. Then I heard J Cole come out of his Bluetooth speaker.

I have never been put so at ease in my life. Like 100 ativans dancing in my blood stream. Enjoy your joint young man. You are no threat to us.

From 19 to 28 I had sex with a girl more or less consistently. Never dated or anything I'm not insane, but consistently. There are a lot of stories about her that are worth sharing with the world, but I think I'd like to start off with one of the most formative.

I met this girl at a fraternity party, I'm going to stop here and say that I had always hoped that would be the start and end of meeting women. I never pictured a life outside of college. That's probably why I failed my classes and got addicted to drugs. Maybe I was going to do that either way.

Regardless, I met this girl at a fraternity party. She was blonde, jewish, busty, but perky like a freshman girl is. Sort of unbelievable looking back on it what they all looked like. Im not pining for those days really, but I did enjoy them a good bit. There's no part of me that believes I took anything for granted, but of course looking back at anything good there's only bitterness for foolishness, for me anyway.

Point is, I met this girl. The first thing she said to me was she had a boyfriend in some other much gayer fraternity. Then she asked for my snapchat. Last week a girl asked for my snapchat, twenty year old, Syracuse junior. Blonde hair perky tits, actually much hotter than the girl I'm describing here. Although hasn't seen the world with me yet. I earnestly told someone younger than me that all that changes is you get perspective like I'm some dad character in a mediocre movie. It's true though.

Back to it, I give her my snapchat and later that night once she's back in her dorm she sends me disappearing messages about what she'd do to my circumcised member. jewish girls. 3 days later that was the first girl with a boyfriend I'd ever had sex with. I thought this was really cool at the time. I still think this is cool, but only if they're married with kids now. Actually, I think I'm over that too. If █ █ █ █ █ █ █ called though I'd go over hastily.

Over the 9 years we hooked up she often had boyfriends. No big deal. In any case by the time I was 25 I was sure her and I were closer than whoever she was dating. We'd meet somewhere like Vegas. Get a suite. Blow her dad's money on drugs and liquor. Or my dad's money on craps. Or our corporate-earned money on poolside chicken tenders. It never mattered. Then we'd go back to our lives. Her boyfriend. My... Whatever was going on. I've learned nothing probably.

My friend's significant others have a habit of being somewhat wary of me, at times. I've often found this to be unwarranted and really my belief is that it's rooted in their desire to control my friend which may be harder if they are partying with me all the time and meeting the women I'm around. Fair enough.

To my great surprise a friend's wife who has openly expressed her disdain for me, to me, contacted me out of the blue. She has one other friend in NYC, and she thought I had to meet her. She puts us in a group text and that was that.

Now, I'm not the world's most conniving human being, but I can tell a trap from a mile away. It's obvious she wants me to meet this woman, say something sexist or otherwise, and then have another thing to bitch to her husband about. I wasn't going to let that happen, so I text my friend and tell him that I'm going to say terrible things to this woman and his wife should cancel the plans. He told me if I didn't show up pay for drinks and act properly he'd never talk to me again. Wives never lose, it's disgusting.

I text the strange woman back and give her a post-work happy hour Wednesday time slot which affords me enough time to go chug whiskeys and sniff lines by myself to mourn the death of a very old friendship. 5:30 at Old Town Bar. Fate sealed.

5:30 rolls around, and I'm there on the dot. Thinking to myself that surely I could manage one drink without revealing my thoughts on how to fix the fertility rate. She texts me and says "srryyyyy will be 6:15 work sucksss". I'm being blown off by this person! I'm stunned. Her name didn't even pop up on my phone I never bothered to save it. I finish 5 Coors light drafts before she arrives.

She looks nice, unassuming, pretty enough certainly, although I wouldn't necessarily screenshot her Instagram for my gorupchat but after 5 beers in 45 minutes more than I'd bargained for. And as with any woman who enters my life far more than what I deserve.

I'll skip the boring part here and say after 3 more drinks she was ready to come back to mine to do lines and "meet up with my friends out somewhere". Reader it is here I confess there were no friends out anywhere, if that makes me a bad person then everything else I've done confirms my place in hell. To spare her dignity in the pages of this website that I vibe coded and so cannot delete I will say she blew me three times since she was on her period, and I was so coked out I never felt it until the last time and I bought her an Uber home. We agreed of course we wouldn't tell our mutual friends and would otherwise go on with our life.

And that's a Wednesday in the city. And every day after.