Rules and Role Models; How to Create a Nice, Safe Identity. Or say “Fuck it,” Quit Your Job and Party Until You’re Broke.

I have no doubt in my mind that I’m the best dating coach in Vancouver, and probably the known universe. The reason being, I don’t know any other dating coaches. I’ve spoken briefly to a few others, but we tend to ignore each other lest we fight to the death like those head lobbing immortals in the movie Highlander.

So I don’t usually write personal stories, as the primary role of this blog is to attract clients to my coaching program. So part of me says I need to be straight laced and professional. Some of the other companies in this city operate under the guise of teaching, “social skills.” Well I don’t teach social skills, I teach men how to attract women.

So there’s the other side of Tony D, the professional dating coach. That’s Tony D, the womanizing, Bukowski wanna-be blogger, who’s fame grew as he posted stories about his glorious conquests of random young women he met in bars, malls, parties, coffee shops and everywhere in between.

Then there’s the real me. The nice guy who likes to read books, play video games, and have movie dates with lots of cuddling.

I’m like a twisted Dr. Jekyll.

To this date I’ve had three reporters ask me for interviews. One guy from the CBC asked if he could follow me around with a camera crew while I taught my students how to approach women. “Sure,” I replied in the email. “I don’t think my clients would be too thrilled to be on television but maybe if you were willing to pay the thousand dollar tuition, I’m sure they would be more than grateful.” I never heard from him again. I think about this when I check my disappointing bank account. Maybe I should be nice to the reporters. Wear a tie and all that.

I would love to write more stories about instances like the time I picked up a girl by telling her I was shipping off to Afghanistan to clear land mines in the morning, or the time I banged a girl who seemed totally sober, but then sat up and projectile vomited across her bedroom in a glorious arc that pasted her wall like sick stucco.

But that’s not too professional is it?

On the other hand, I love to inspire and motivate men with enlightening wisdom about the nature of the ego, and what it takes to be successful in our highly brainwashed lemming society. I’m trying to teach people how to not give a crap what others think about them, even if it comes at the cost of reputation. This mindset has had many great men murdered for less than an eccentric blog post.

We all have role models. The reason they are called role models is because we believe that these people have, “roles,” that we could, “model.” Two of my many role models are Tony Robbins and Charles Bukowski.

Bukowski’s public role is that of a hard drinking, womanizing poet. Tony Robbins is that of a straight laced, motivational speaker and self dev coach.

Masks are designed to hide our face. Deep down we want to run and fuck and howl and dominate. We want money and power and fame and women and sex and pleasure and freedom and adventure. That’s why there’s the bible, and police; to keep us from reverting to roving tribes of hooligans–even if that’s a liberating alternative to, “proper behaviour.”

But we create our roles. If Tony Robbins were to suddenly publish a novel about the joys of drinking and fucking groupies, I’m sure it would stir a coup amongst his followers. The guy has coached everyone from billionaire day traders, to movie stars, sports icons, politicians and elite navy seal sniper teams.

Bukowski is dead, but what if his publisher suddenly released a nonfiction novel about the joys of consumerism in a non-satirical voice? Outrage. Right wingers would applaud. Hipsters would faint.

Part of the joy of being human is the transient nature of the whole experience. With one bold move you can erase everything you’ve worked for…your entire public identity. If you’ve slaved like one of my friends as an accountant for the last decade, you can quit to sell hydroponic growing equipment to hippies. He makes a lot less money, but he’s happy for now.  Screw what people think! (Until your alimony and mortgage go unpaid).

I post ads on Craigslist to attract clients. I recently had a guy email me asking if I could post some videos of my bootcamps. “I don’t have any videos” I told him. Why don’t I have videos? Because that would mean in the eyes of the world I would be a douchebag pickup artist. I would be eighty and my grandkids would be like, “Grandpa, this girl at school is giving me LMR, do you think I should freeze the bitch out before I cock blast her?”

It’s easy to tell a guy that isn’t getting laid there is more to life than an endless supply of new labia…but I digress. For these men I have plenty of articles like, “Fifty Reasons You Aren’t Getting Laid.”

So the point of this article? I don’t know. Fuck it. Being professional sucks. Take my bootcamp. It’s expensive but I’m smart and don’t want to bus another table for the rest of my life, so I’ll work my ass off to give you your money’s worth. I’m a champ like that. And am I legit? Am I really a pro?

Are You? What role are you playing?