So, this is purely experimental and more or less a journal of my pokemon Go adventures out in the real world. I've taken quite a bit more time going to the park and other nests to build up my army of pokes and farm the absolute shit out of stardust and the like. This will include pretty standard hunts, as well as notable encounters and experiences.

Hopefully I don't get killed out there. Obviously, this isn't going to have an M rating because let's face it, I'm not going to be going out and fighting shady guys to the death. This is real srs business. My rise to awesome will happen gradually, but it will happen. This I assure you.

I live in California.

Trainer level: 12.

Team: Instinct

Strongest CP: 505 Aerodactyl

Status: Building up the Instinct Army.

Chronicle Entry #1: July 21, 2016, Hollenbeck Park; Bulbasaur nesting grounds in the hood of East LA

This phone is ass. This LG optimus whatever the hell it is has let me down. Constant gps outages and screwups, among other issues playing POGO. It has sufficiently pissed me off at this point. If it had hands, I'd let it attend my funeral so it could let me down one last time.

I mean, it might have something to do with the phone having been flung over 15 feet into the middle of the street while my bike decided to crap out on me as I was hauling ass, but I don't know. This phone has been through some stuff, but now it's GARBAGE.

So it's 7:00pm and I am going to catch me some bulbasaurs because I want a Venosaur that can beat some Vaporeon ass. And when trading goes live… ho, ho.

Just you wait, Valor and Mystic heathens. You own the gym in front of my house, but I will take it and beat your face into the dirt.

Alright, it's 7:20pm and I bought a new phone. Went straight to the store, paid for my stuff, and that's that. Look, I'm an adult, I'm not part of this system. I'll throw it on the ground. Don't tempt me.

As a side note, it's a brick, but a really nice brick. No connection issues and it's nice and sleek and-

NO GYROSCOPE?!

GOD DAMMIT FUCK ASS SHIT.

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Chronicle Entry #2: July 22, 2016, La Brea Tar Pits; reported Charmander nesting grounds

Going to the La Brea tar pits today for some charmander hunting goodness because I need me a charizard that can melt Valor and Mystic face off. Yesterday was a pokemon bust, considering my phone was garbage and by that time it had already gotten dark.

That bulbasaur nest in my local park? It gets shady as hell in the night. Bodies have been dumped there before. I carry a knife around with me just in case but you know, I'd rather not use it. Just living in bad areas things, I guess.

Regardless, it's La brea time. For all of you that have no idea what the hell I'm talking about, search it up, it's a national landmark or something. Mammoths died in there and stuff. But I don't care about mammoths, I want me some charizards.

Holy shit, someone ever ask what's a good example of a racially and socially divided city, Los Angeles is a good place to start. One street it's hood and crappy apartment complexes, and the next it's permit enforced parking, joggers, nice condos, and electronic key locks with cameras.

Not paying for parking, fuck that. Park in the crappier part of town it is. Car sucks so no one is going to steal it, we are good.

Here at La Brea tar pits and man, it smells like shit. Granted, the smell gets bearable the longer you stay there so it's alright. There's a ton of people nerding out, all on POGO. Guys, kids, adults, and surprisingly girls. Wait but aren't they just guys in disguise?

No, fool. The laws of the internet do not apply here. This is real life, You'd know if you went outside for once.

Hot damn. Four charmander spawns straight out of the gate? Oh baby, a quad. Charmander spawns continued for a good while, and the pokestops in the area kept my pokeball stock healthy. As I'm walking in the park, there's this really pretty girl walking in the same direction. Brunette, nice figure. Non grating voice. I put on my Casanova and walk up to her, asking her what team she is.

So she's a mystic. Alright… acceptable losses. They don't own the gym in front of my house. That doesn't fester an insatiable desire to utterly destroy them for the small, proud glory of Instant at all. I ask her about all the good charmander spawns despite having caught most of them, to which she directs me with a smile.

Ah, POGO players really are nice. Unless they're Valor.

And now jimmies are rustled.

Good.

Anyway, I'm chatting the girl up innocently when an arcanine spawns. On the other side of the park. Girl looks at me, I look at girl.

Some things are just more important.

I bolt over to the other side of the park, trying desperately to find which way is north because my sense of direction is worse than the average overwatch teammate.

Or Genji mains.

Fighting tooth and nail, armed with razzberries and curving my throws like a professional baseball player, I finally catch this stubborn arcanine, only to see cute girl gone.

Saddened, I check the CP of the pokemon, hoping for a level high enough to renounce a potential date and… CP 535.

…

Alright. Just need to go find the nearest tall building and escort myself off the edge. Preferably in front of a bus.

I never did see her again.

Trounced in despair and wallowing in misery, I slump along the park, catching charmanders but not caring. Woe is me, however will I recover from this devastating blow of-

HOLY FUCKNUGGETS THAT'S A JOLTEON. WORTH.

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Chronicle Entry #3: July 23, 2016, Hollenbeck Park again; near sunset

My pokeball stock is depleted severely from the tar pits yesterday. Time to go to the park to restock. I'd play overwatch, but I've developed a form of PTSD as a result of teammates with the playing ability and tactical reasoning of a baboon. I'd rather not lose brain cells to idiocy, that's politics' job.

Oh my god, it's like a hundred degrees and there's a fire out. The sun is red and smoke is in the sky like this is dark souls. Good day for pokemon hunting, if I do say so myself. Ashen lungs don't stop a true pokemon master, am I right?

Except the heat. I can't strip in public. Wait for the sun to go down, ye.

I'm following my Instincts, get it? Hah, hah. Good one, you clever little bastard you. Can you feel the cringe? Don't worry, people have already informed me that suicide is a valid stress reliever. Take knife, apply vertically to forearm. Results may vary.

Back at the park, farming pokestops and bulbasaurs, I'm sitting on the bridge when this really shady looking guy in a wife-beater starts walking toward the collection of kids and people congregated at the lures near the lake.

Dude has a hammer. Home depot heavy duty hammer. Now, I don't know about you, but there isn't any home improvement options in the middle of a park. This man carrying a half empty coke bottle in his hand. That's how I know I can't trust him. I carefully maneuver myself out of there while cautiously fingering the knife in my pocket. Pokemon trainers gotta stay safe, man.

It's dark, shady people are coming out of the woodworks, and I'm alone and slightly sweaty. No cute girls to be seen either. Time to call it a day. Six bulbasaurs and 4 growlithes. Pretty bad for a 50min-1hr haul. I'm tired of fucking dudous, I swear that zubats and pidgeys are less common than these things. GO AWAY.

Walking back, my eggs begin to hatch. Watching with excitement, I eagerly await the birth of my new pokemon, wishing I could peel off the egg shell myself to find a beautiful… geodude staring back at me.

I'm sure there's a discard function somewhere around here.

Entry one complete. Whether anyone will read this is debatable. I'm not expecting anyone to really care, but here it is if you want to read it. Entries might get more detailed when I go to pokemon socials and events. Might update TTH tomorrow or today. Depends how I feel.