Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
Shiit - i put the effort in for realStort_Brød said:put enough effort in and anything is possible bro... 42kg increase in 6 weeks is only adding 7kg per week.... it will be a push but it is far from impossible.
Hahah man after my own heart - yup, shall doStort_Brød said:and on your side note, enjoy it while you are on it bro. go out and leave some poor lil broads pvssy looking like it went through a meat grinder haha
I don't like gear myself but I respect what can be achieved by it. I love the misconception that as soon as you start juicing you instantly get stronger like it is some miracle drug, yet when on the juice you need to push yourself even harder to make the results worth while.Purefilth said:Shiit - i put the effort in for realglute and quads have been giving me grief all day, I know the " 3 day DOMs " are coming!!!
Hahah man after my own heart - yup, shall do![]()
Maybe I wanted you to feel a little uncomfortableStort_Brød said:well settle down there sancho!! a quick "nohomo" after that would have been appropriate lol.
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.
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.
YEAH!Purefilth said:legs day tomorrow for frontsquat city - lets raise that max, shall we?![]()
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.
You said it brother!Stort_Brød said:It isn't a good leg day untill you either A) pass out or collapse B) puke
I use liquid chalk/dry hands, helps out alot especially when the temperature is a bit warm.Purefilth said:Also I'm gonna invest in some liquid chalk cos my buddy gave me a little after my grip failed on deadlifts and I am sold.![]()
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.