That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.
Attraction runs on a clock.
She flirted for weeks. Touched your arm. Found reasons to be alone with you. And you were careful. Respectful. Waiting for the right moment.
The moment had a shelf life. It expired around month two, and by the time you asked her out, she'd quietly filed you under "little brother."
One of the hardest lessons inside the 22 Rules: women rarely wait. Interest either grows or it decays, and nothing decays it faster than a man who never moves.
Make the move while she's still inventing reasons to be near you.
Dude that's really REALLY mean. Why would you say that? Are you a mean person?Originally posted by Chrisman
I'm with Duamutef. After reading his thread with Shez in it I can't take it.
Shez, you're a little *****. You have 1500 posts of reiterated crap. When you get this many posts, all you got is internet game, not to mention, you act like King **** and you're only some 19 year old punk. In the words of an old hockey coach, "You're dead anyway. You might aswell tie a brick to your **** and jump out a window."
Just a note, Duamutef's posts weren't meant to be offensive, but mine are.
Do us all a favour, and shut your mouth.
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.
Wow, you'll be an engineer...Congratulations!Originally posted by Duamutef
I'll be an engineer in about six months. I've never painted a model aircraft. You're nobody but an idiot, my friend.
Soon enough, I'll be among the gotha of modern state-of-art engineers. Italian, especially Piedmontese aerospace engineers are well known for their pursuit of excellence. Just Google a bit about Turin's Polytechnic.
What are you, instead? A little 19 years-old prick that comes from Britain's a$$hole? Is your town even listed on maps, your little cry-baby pvssy?
Thank God you've got a little popularity inside here, immature fvck. This forum will be the highlight of your life, loser. And lousy dreamer, 10'000 approches my ass. Try your way with 100'000 w4nks instead. You'd be far more successful.
My God, it's so easy to put you back to your place, you're so ignorant, my friend. It's such a luck there are still idiots like you around. You give me a chance to feel better than you. And most importantly, better than the nameless losers that keep licking your a$$.
Model aircrafts...![]()
You asked her if she wanted to grab coffee. Then you asked if the time worked. Then you asked if the place was okay. Then you asked if she'd prefer tea.
Four questions. Four chances for her to say no. Four signals that you're terrified of making a decision.
Plan it. Pick the place. Pick the time. Tell her where to meet you. She'll either show up or she won't.
Either way, you look like a man instead of a scared little boy.
Oh shut Up Shezzler has had more quality approaches than you have gotten laid.Originally posted by Rec_rejection_phobic
it isn't about the amout of aproches you do, it's the quality of approces that you do do.
Sarge On
I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.
The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.
Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.
Wanna come on grammar.com with me, dumba$$?Originally posted by The_Shezzler
no one cares man - let if go!
Ugh! This hurts! :crackup:Originally posted by The_Shezzler
Please forgive me oh masterful grape picker!
Originally posted by Duamutef
(most of them were drunk...).
I've got game... Oh my God, I'm the fvcking show! ^_^Originally posted by The_Shezzler
They had to be drunk - from what he says - He has no game and his picture says even more.
Sarge On...
(Enough with the flaming - On with the Approaches)
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.