A day in daygame

I just wanted to write a short diary piece on one day in my Daygame career (yesterday, 17th February 2021).

I started the day much like any other. I woke and went downstairs, I drank a pint of water as the kettle boiled. Black coffee, oats soaking it milk, with whey protein and fresh blueberries. I sat down at my kitchen table and opened my work laptop and embarked on my day; stretching meagre morsels of work across the morning, before training in the conservatory with my dumbbells. Shoulders and biceps yesterday. I feel that I have lost a lot of muscle mass and general shape. I feel skinny-fat. I am keeping a good diet, but perhaps I am eating a lot-less than normal. Perhaps there is a little body dysmorphia but more likely I’m just a skinny-fat cunt.

I showered and placed some serum and moisturiser on my face and finished the routine by adding some lovely matt-finish beard moisturiser. I have some oil and balm, but I have recently begun to prefer this one. I thought I was a proper faggot until I realised that Krauser is an even bigger one as he once interrupted our daygame walk to go and buy beard dye one afternoon. I even bought some myself thereby doubling-down on faggotry.

I cooked salmon fillets and made a 3-egg omelette with mushrooms, chorizo and spinach. As I dressed I felt good. I was upbeat and motivated to do a set or two mixed into the 10k steps. I jumped in the car and started on my way into town. The air was mild and the sky was blue. Around a couple of minutes into the drive I suddenly felt a shearing, acute pain rip and rise through my stomach. The pain announced in no uncertain terms that I had eaten something bad. I clenched my arse and calculated I had perhaps a five minute drive back home, just as another godly awful searing cramp tore through my abdomen. This one was bad. I knew I wouldn’t make the trip home. There was no way I was going to unload a bucket of vile, stinking wet-slosh all over the leather upholstery of my car. I swung the car around and drove the couple of minutes to a park area. I guessed correctly that there was some brush and scrub by the carpark. Another wave of pain ripped across my body as I jumped out of the car. But it was too late. I felt a pulse of release as my arsehole could no longer hold strong. I screamed inside “Not yet!”. At this moment I felt like the replicant Roy Batty must have felt in the closing stages of the film Bladerunner. The scene were he forces the nail into his hand “Not yet” as he battles against his bodies will to die. Then another one. I jogged across the shrub and crouched down behind the sparsest of tree cover. I was hid from the main road by a few sparse twigs from the winter tree cover. I tore at my jeans with more haste and lust than I have ever tore at them in the bedroom and before I had even pulled the jeans to my ankles the torrent almost blew me onto the road. I turned around to view the deposition with a mixture of disgust, horror and fascination as I observed how the jet of orange carnage had flattened the nettles and tall grass to a distance of approximately 1.5m. My tiny, beautiful anus burned as the effluent leaked its last drop. I jumped back in the car and went home and showered before heading back into town.

I opened a girl almost immediately. Not the best skin, but she had gorgeous eyes and an incredible body. She was 19, Romanian and waiting for her friend. I held great eye contact and reiterated how I liked how she looked. She asked my age and guessed I was 28. She was way out, of course and I wonder if she was just being nice. She prevaricated on the number close but I could tell she wasn’t too keen.

I opened another girl. A cute, leggy Spanish girl in a short skirt, black pantyhose and those big spacka-boots. I stacked and filled the space but she had a boyfriend of a year. The conversation was fine and I felt relaxed and enjoyed the interaction.

Shortly after I received a super IOI from a gorgeous little curvy girl with an arse like a rhino (in a good way). Her big brown eyes locked on me so I jogged back and opened her at the pedestrian crossing. She was ‘eye-spazzing’ and giggling. Slovakian girl. Extremely pretty but just on her way to meet her boyfriend. I thought it was on, but sadly it wasn’t.

Not long after this I received what I felt was an IOI from a girl crossing the street from me. I jogged back and remarked in-set that she had just bought some new false teeth (she had been to dentist and bought braces – the dentist had packed them in a high-quality designed bag – no shit). I didn’t fancy her. She was a lot older up-front. An Essex girl. She just had that dead, Britishness about her, “I’ve got to go catch a bus” she said. I walked off.

The day I shit myself and got no leads.

How was your daygame February 17th?

It is always nice seeing one-half of the spoilt and entitled Williams brothers breaking down in tears with another bad-loser pity-me episode. So as I finish writing this post, I will leave it on that positive note.