These reports are awesome and really well written! I can really relate to a lot of stuff here.

A few points really struck home with me here...

1)International girls do seem a very different game, especially the Eastern European ones. They seem a lot easier to get in with and get numbers etc, but are harder to close! I have been the victim of this a few times recently!!

I think the key is to just go for it with them. I got cheeked last week by 1 when out on a date, but she still wants to meet me again next week (she said 'not yet, wait until next time' which was lame on her part, but proves that getting rejected from a kiss isn't the end of the world so just go for it!!). Oh and for God sake avoid those chairs and tables!! Sofas all the way!

Also be careful of cultural barriers/differences in humour etc. I accused a Mexican girl of stealing my wallet once (playfully)and she went mental! 'How dare you say dis, about Mexican people thinking we are all thieves! etc etc.......'

2)I'm like a friggin butterfly when I go out sometimes and never plough through my sets - definitely going to try to stay in sets until the bitter/sweet end from now on! Good job on your part!

3)I have been a victim of the ol'girls go to the bar/outside for a cigarette or something whilst you sit there like a lemon too. Is annoying, especially if you feel it has been going well. I think the answer is to open more sets and not wait for them like a puppy dog. Then when they do come back their jealousy button goes off and attraction goes up instead of down. You can even introduce the sets and stuff!

I'm glad you like my reports! I find it helps writing about stuff. Hopefully one day I'll find a way to be paid for writing. Money for old rope, really...

I've had a similar problem. I'd open, and then after 5 minutes in set, I'd think 'Right, mission accomplished. Eject, and find another set to open'.

Obviously, therefore, I wasn't getting any actual results other than a few openings a night.

Ask yourself: Are you going out to open, or are you going out to close? For the former is only a means to the end of the latter.

Is correct. You can always re-open sets later. But sitting there like a good lil doggy is never a good thing.

Sooooooooooo where were we?

Headed out for a mate's birthday last night. Off to Lark Lane first, full of pubs, where we had a few pints. It was my friend Toni's birthday, and nights out with Toni usually end up a complete fucking mess. Last night was no different.

Now look, I've been out of the game for quite some time. During that time, my growing frustration at my lack of ability to take action with women has really wound me up. Lately, I've tentatively made steps towards reengaging with the strange world of pick up. I've spent a long time reflecting on my experiences last time I was here. Pick up at once thrilled me and disillusioned me, excited me and pissed me off. But for all I really came away with some fundamental misgivings about it all, I can't get away from the fact that, during my time going out with wings (see the 15 pages above), I did approach girls, I did open sets, and I did have results. That wasn't due to implementing any particular methodology, but rather simply through going out with a certain mindset, and consciously making the effort to talk to girls.

I digress. So, we're in a nice pub on Lark Lane, having a good old sing song with some blokes playing their guitars. I was chatting to one girl who was an architect, who seemed nice enough. We were talking about her grand design house and her vision of a world of interesting design and architecture. We exchanged our mutual frustrations with British local government planning policy (Mystery Method p. 173 - The Planning Routine).

This girl turned out to be married, which was a tremendous shame. We were getting on well. But perhaps it was this conversation that limbered me up for the night ahead. Because some strange things were about to happen...

We headed into town. Five of us in a cab, two girls. One, a mother, aged 44 and a bit of a yummy Mummy. And her daughter, Becky, aged 21. A slim dark haired girl who's thick lensed glasses made her look like she'd stumbled out of the nearest library, but who was just the prettiest little thing. I really took to Becky, and we began to exchange jokes as the taxi dragged us to town.

We went to a club called the Raz. The Raz is a staple of Liverpool's student club scene. Its been there for decades, and its never changed. I went there for the first time on my very first night of University 9 years ago. The playlist hasn't changed at all since then, nor has the DJ. Nor has the floor to which your feet stick, not the rancid air which clings to your jeans for days after, nor the 6 inches of wee that lines the floor of the toilets.

I love the place.

So, we head in, downstairs onto the dancefloor. And this is where something extremely strange began to happen. Normally, if there's a girl I quite like, I'll dance next to her, or opposite her, and perhaps very nervously from time to time I'll brush up against her in the hope she'll respond. Similarly, mainly on a night out I'll focus on the friends I'm out with. I won't really talk to anyone else, I've never seen the point. That's what I've done for months, years even. Its never been any different. I don't see why it should change without having any reasonable explanation.

And that's why I'm so baffled this morning. Because, last night, for reasons unknown to me, it did change. Rather than nibble around the edges with Becky, I suddenly found myself practically chucking her across the dancefloor. My arm was round her waist, I was holding her hands and pulling her closer into me. I got close and nuzzled her neck. This wasn't the CovertOperation I was used too!

Right, so look, I didn't actually kiss Becky last night. I tried. And tried, and tried. But she kept turning her head away. Every time I tried too, she nervously asked where her Mum was, as if she didn't want to kiss someone in front of her. To be sure, she didn't back away. Every time she turned away from kissing me, a few moments later we'd be dancing together again. Surely if she didn't like me, and by this point my intentions were clear, then she'd have backed away and walked off when I tried to pull her towards me again, or danced away to the opposite side of the circle. But, she didn't. She stayed right there, and she kept coming back. How odd.

I came home later in a taxi with her Mum and my mate, who it seems has since slept with said Mum. Good on him! As we drove home, her Mum turned to me and said 'Becky said she likes you'. How fucking frustrating is that! Fucking kiss me then you fucking gorgeous library geek!!

Through some nifty Facebook work I've managed to find Becky, and I'll send her a wee message in a second. I did like her, and I'd like to see her again, perhaps with her Mum not around. But regardless of what happens with her, I can't quite get my head around where my sudden directness came from last night. I liked it.

And another thing, which hooks onto this. I wasn't only more direct with Becky. I was more direct with everyone! In the club, I found myself suddenly talking to absolutely everyone around me. I asked one lad if I could try his glasses on, because they looked cool. I said hi to every girl around me. One girl walked through the middle of us, and stopped looking for her mates. I put my arm around her and walked her around the club until she found them. I was asking people where they'd got their cool Christmas jumpers, whether they thought Man City could last the pace and win the league, weren't Five shit and why does this DJ keep playing the Five Megamix when its clear no-one will dance to it? I was so stunned at my sudden and unexpected sociability that I began to chat to random people almost for the sake of it, almost because I could, like a kid with a new toy, eagerly finding out all the different things it does.

Something very strange happened last night. Something very different. I haven't got a clue what. And that's frustrating. Everything that happens in life, I try and break it down, take it to pieces, analyse the factors that make the world turn in the way it does. I'm my own favourite subject. So I can't tell you how frustrated it makes me that I haven't got a clue what was so different last night, that made me act so out of character!

One thing though: I hope it stays that way!