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My Journal: From Hero to Hero except more so https://pick-up-artist-forum.com/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=145131	Page 1 of 1

Author:	John Spoon [ Thu Sep 06, 2012 11:54 am ]
Post subject:	My Journal: From Hero to Hero except more so
Hi. My actual name in real life is Johnathon Purofuerte. I know what you're thinking. "What the fuck type of name is that?" Well, I'll tell you. My name means pure strength. Not in one language though. See, my dad is Italian-Australian and my mum is Spanish. My dad met my mum while she was on holiday in America. They instantly fell in love with one another. No shit, they decided to move to Australia together because it was the only place they both had relatives. After dating each other for 2-3 years my mum got pregnant, which put incredible strain on the relationship and by the time I was born I was all that was holding them together. Because of this they couldn't agree on a last name for me. Eventually they settled on bastardising my name with a mixture of Spanish and Italian, because neither could bare not to have their culture reflected in my name. My mum... When she met my dad she was a 19 year old model. My dads influence on her was turning her into a Wiccan-Vegan and eventually driving us into a hippy commune for half a decade. Life at a hippy commune meant I seldom experienced negativity and almost never verbal criticism. It was the ultimate in positive environments, every morning we woke up and gave every other member of the commune a reason we love them.Up until I went to mainstream school, when my father took over the parenting at age 11, I can honestly not recall being insulted. When we moved out my mum couldn't cope with raising a kid on her own without the support of dozens of hippies, so I moved into my dads house in the city. My dad had love for nothing but my mother and I. Dating my mum fucked him up big time, he actually wrote her serenades on a semi-regular basis right up until I moved out. My dad was successful with women, but mostly through social circle. He dated a new girl every month or so but still tried with my mum any time they met, regardless of her relationship status. Mainstream school and the city both were a shock for me at first but I adapted. I was coming in late, but I was supremely self confident after years of unfettered affection and praise. Because of this my school accepted me very well. For the next four years the only negativity in my life was my father. He wore down on me. Halfway through high school I moved out of his house after a series of big fights and didn't see him for seven years after that. We have a good relationship now though. Anyway, I was and indeed still am incredibly successful with women. I don't remember my first kiss, but by the time I got to school I'd kissed at least a dozen girls. Hippy communes are cool like that. At school I wasn't slowed down for long, I had a girlfriend my first month there and a new one the month after. I lost my virginity on the last day of my second last year in primary school to a girl from the year above I'd been fooling around with for a year or so. It was both of our first times. We had sex at her house after her year seven leavers disco. After that I dated her for a couple of months, then broke up with her. My dad and I started fighting A LOT at this stage because he believed in true love and knew about how I behaved at school. Ironically, my mum is the complete opposite and was a serial monogamist right up until she got married three years ago. My mother the player, my father the lover. Anyway, the pressure of constant arguments with my dad affected me socially at first, but after I started boxing I found somewhere to take my frustrations out. My dad enrolled me the day after I broke up with my girlfriend because the week before older kids from another school had chased me trying to beat me up. They then caught me and beat me up. It sucked because I was two blocks from my house and I remember wishing I could run faster. Anyway, the entirety of my high school was pretty boring. I hooked up with hundreds of girls though which most guys can't claim to. I also dated a 25 year old towards the end of my last year. She didn't know I was in high school though, when she did find out she broke up with me. After high school I just drifted. I was popular at school but I didn't like anyone that much. I had a lot of friends but no one I really connected to. I also had no need to work because my mum's husband at the time insisted I take a gap year, which he funded, after which he funded a second and third. On New Years of the second year I met my first really close friend, Harry. Harry was like me, if I'd had a completely different background, was black and a gymnast. What we connected on was women and martial arts. I don't remember meeting him because I was probably drunk as fuck, but he let me crash at his house that night and ever since then we were best friends. That is as up-to-date as this will ever need to be. I'm now going to post field reports from both recently and in my past. This is more a scrapbook of recollection and experience than a journal, so I'm going to post every cool story I want in any order I think of them. Because of the nature of this board I'm going to keep them mostly about women though. I figured I should post at least one good story up when I make a journal. So here goes. First Story: From the Belly of the Beast. This one is set nearly five years ago, just after I'd got back from my last year of travel. Harry (that isn't his real name btw) and I got a house together with his female friend Rose and her friend who was ugly whose name has been lost to the ages. Anyway, before moving in Harry said something along the lines of "John, if Rose moves in with us YOU CANNOT FUCK HER. She is crazy as fuck and it will cause problems. If you don't think you can resist fucking her then we'll get someone else to move in. Seriously. Crazy." Me being me I though I could resist, so we all moved in. A week went by. Another. A month. One night I stumbled home drunk with a girl I'd picked up at a library and gone for drinks with. I started getting into it on the couch with her, not caring about the fact we were in a loungeroom because it was 2am on a wednesday and everyone else had to work to pay rent. Vital mistake. Rose came out in her dressing gown and instantly began screaming like a WW2 vet having flashbacks. the girl I was with ran out of my house completely naked and didn't even come back to pick up the clothes she drop as she fled through the door. I felt like doing the same, but given that I lived there I calmly sat through her tirade. She eventually said "What the fuck, are you still hard?" I remember this well because it is possibly the least smooth thing I have ever said: "As... Hard as trigonometry... bitch." The dots represent long pauses of drunk thinking. She launched into her second assault about respect and how she could stab me to death and pretend it was self defence. I was no longer interested in this conversation now that I was being threatened, so I hugged her goodnight and went to bed. In the morning I woke up naked. Which is fine, that's how I normally sleep. I don't normally sleep with my sheets shredded up and strewn across my room however. I figured something was up. Talking to Harry about it he inferred that my argument with Rose was the root problem. he suggested I apologise or change my name and move cities. He seemed genuinely fearful of my health so I decided an apology might be a reasonable course. It was the worst apology ever. I delivered an eloquent, sincere and thoughtful apology. She responded with more threats. Perturbed, I attempted to reiterate my remorse. She rejected my sentiment with another threat. I was irritated at this stage, but being the calm rationale person I am I continued to try and fix things between us. After an hour of banging my head against a wall I gave up and left. I came back home with another girl and this time decided to go directly to my room in an attempt to avoid more drama. Imagine my surprise to find Rose sitting on my bed. With a knife. For the second time in two nights a girl bolted out of my house. At least this one kept her possessions. "We need to talk." She said. (btw this conversation is completely made up but it starts from the same point and ends up at the right place) "Ok." I replied calmly. "How many girls have you fucked?" "I don't know... Why?" "You think you're such a player don't you? I bet I've fucked more chicks than you ever will." "Cool..." At this point she stood and walked towards me. "I've fucked hundreds of girls. I've fucked an actress, I've fucked models and I've fucked (roommate)" "Okay." "I don't fuck guys." "Neither do I." (intense eye contact) she laughs suddenly, followed by another pause. Abruptly she drops her robe off and says "You want to fuck me, don't you?" "No. I wanted to sleep with the cool girl I came back with, not the crazy one I live with." Again we hold gazes. Her eyes burn into mine with rage, like hot coals of hate. "Get out of my house. We all decided today we want you out. you can pick up your stuff in the morning." She attempts to shepherd me out of the door by brandishing the knife at me. I stand my ground. "No one except you wants me to leave and you know it. No one except you has a problem with me. Everyone except me has a problem with you, now you're trying to make one? Why? Can't we just interact with each other in a friendly manner." I put on my most winning grin... She stabs me in the chest 145 times. Lol jk. She breaks down in tears on my floor and sobs late into the night as I cradle her. In the morning she leaves my room, which Harry sees. He also nearly cries. After that she was still a massive bitch, but she never threatened me with violence again. We didn't ever sleep together. And because that story didn't have any sex in it, while I was writing the above conversation I got reminiscent and decided to walk outside and experience life. Also Rose was basically a perfect ten and thinking about her naked got me going. Anyway I approached this girl at the bar near my house with my famous "You're fucking stunning, like an explosion of hot right in my eyes" line. Then we talked about moustaches, sex positions and how hard it is for me to control myself in front of all these people talking to a girl as extraordinarily sexy as she is. It took about 30 minutes and she came home with me, had sex on my couch and now she and Matt (guy I live with) are watching tv in the other lounge. I will now go cuddle, ciao mio bellisimi amici, per me amore tutti e il piu grande regalo della vita.

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