DonGorgon
Master Don Juan
- Joined
- Nov 28, 2007
- Messages
- 4,679
- Reaction score
- 102
Iv done it in my sedan...verysuave said:i always hear guys efing a chick in their pick up truck
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.
Iv done it in my sedan...verysuave said:i always hear guys efing a chick in their pick up truck
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.
Forget the cash, the cars, and the chiseled jawlines. Female desire operates on a completely different frequency. Primal. Subconscious. Triggers that bypass her logic and hit her on a gut level. Most guys are totally blind to them.
I know because I was one of them. The overthinking. The paralysis. The silent drive home kicking yourself for freezing up. Watching average guys walk away with the girl while you stood there stuck in your own head.
Then I decoded the psychology behind what actually makes women tick. 22 hard rules. Subtle behavioral shifts that rewired my entire reality. The anxiety evaporated. Women started leaning in. Investing. Chasing.
Why would u want a lancer, those things are pigs. Now a Lancer Evo.......well thats a whole different story. Car is sickking0fhearts59 said:mitsubishi lancer 08, its bout 13-15 Gs
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.
n00bPimp said:The evo or a 350z. my personal favorites.
You made your case like a lawyer. Stable job. Good guy. Ready for something real. All true. All irrelevant.
She weighed your points, nodded along, felt nothing — then fell hard for some tattooed bartender with a motorcycle and a gambling problem.
Logic is where attraction goes to die. The "22 Rules" work a level deeper, on the subconscious switches that decide within minutes whether you register as a MAN or as part of the furniture.
Stop presenting evidence. Start flipping switches.
And seriously,But do not pretend the 159 isn’t there next time you want a mid-range four-door saloon because that would be a mistake. A bad one. First of all, it is exactly one million times better looking than a BMW 3-series. And with those triple headlamps, and perfect proportions, at least half a million times better looking than any rivals from Audi, Mercedes or Jaguar.
Inside, it’s even better. The driving position is spot on, the dials look like they’ve come from a Swiss watch and the quality of the leather, especially if you have it in red, gives the impression that it costs Rolls-Royce money.
But it doesn’t. A 159 Lusso, which is the luxury version, is £22,395. That’s about what BMW charges for a 320i SE, but Alfa gives you far more equipment as standard and lots more power as well. The 2.2 litre engine is a peach that just begs to be taken outside and given a damn good thrashing. Porsche engineered an exhaust rasp into the Boxster at 5000rpm to reward the sporty driver. Alfa hasn’t bothered. It just gives you a simple four-cylinder engine that, all on its own, sounds better and better until you’re up at 6500 when it sounds like a metallic werewolf.
You can pootle around slowly but somehow you tend to drive the 159 very hard and very fast. But the engine, torquey, powerful and smooth though it may be, is not the best part of this car. That accolade goes to the steering. It’s fast, sharp, more informative than the internet and more tactile than a freshly carved stone otter.
The handling is also sweet and yet the ride isn’t even slightly uncomfortable. Which means that the 159 drives and feels like no other car in its class. If you have even the faintest trace of petrol in your veins, if you are even on nodding terms with the concept of simple, good engineering, you should drive this car. Because it doesn’t matter what you have now, you’ll be smitten. I was.
This is one of those cars that’s demonstrably and appreciably better than any other mid-range four-door family saloon. And unlike any Alfa of the past, you don’t have to machete your way through a million inconveniences to find the point. This car does not hide its gold watch up its behind. It is an absolute gem.
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.