"You Can't Argue a Woman Into Liking You"

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.

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Darwin Award contestant-in-the-making

CableLight

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At least I think they're called the Darwin Awards - those things people get bestowed upon them for the most idiotic death possible.

Anyway - Check this out, and I dare...nay, defy any of you to beat this guy.

My "friend" - a term I use lightly seeing as how I vicariously became friends with this guy - has made a name for himself over this past year at school. A bad name. Here's a short list of things he's managed to accomplish over the year:

NOTE: I swear this is all totally real and has not in any way, exaggerated or doctored.

1) The first weekend we're on campus, he climbs a bronze statue of our school mascot (a dragon) and puts a pair of pants over its face. Little did he know - and I kid you not - that in times of warm weather the dragon has a gas line connected to a blow torch in its mouth to allow it to appear to be spitting fire. Pants = gone.

2) A few weeks into the semester we all decide to go cosmic bowling (yes, drinking beforehand was mandatory). Captain Dipsh!t walks into the bowling alley with an open backpack containing about 10 beers. One of them manages to fall out by the desk where you get your shoes, and the guys like "If I see any more of that, I'm calling the police."

3) A few weeks later, this same guy goes on a drunken rampage and ninja-kicks out a window of a dorm building. Note that this isn't some random window in the back of the building no one will notice, this was right by the front door. He manages to cut the sh!t out of his leg, which is what happens when you decide to play with glass and wear shorts, so he ended up bleeding all over the entrance to our room, the hallway to our room, and the bathroom next to our room. It looked like we murdered someone (I'm not joking). In the end, retard man had to be taken to the hospital for stitches which, may I add, he constantly broke open over the next two weeks because he'd sit and pick at them.

4) The most recent event - My three roommates and I were off at a party. Professor Ass Clown was there too and left with a few of our buddies to go get Taco Bell. A few hours go by and we're all drunk so we don't even realize we haven't talked to the people that left for about two hours. Turns out our dorm room got busted because the Nipple Pirate decided it was a good idea to take all those guys back and party at our room. Note that Butt Master doesn't live in our room, he just thought it was a good idea to go there without telling/asking us. Brilliant, now I get to go talk to the housing manager about it.

Theres a few more instances of this guy being completely detrimental to mankind, but I'll save them for another day. I'm just fairly confident he's going to meet his demise in such a way that they'll rename the Darwin Awards to the "Brenden Awards."
 

"She Laughed All Night. Then She Ghosted You. Here's Why."

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.

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Julian

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I have a friend like that. Everywhere he goes disaster strikes i fuccing swear.

But he is fun to have around for a while before his annoying behavior causes murder to happen.
 

CableLight

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Also, I forgot to add: The guy is dumb as a brick when he's not drunk. i.e. academic probation last semester, only ~14 credits to his name in his second year of college, refers to turtles as turkeys (I cannot explain this), etc. That's bush league.
 

InsidiousNstinct

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A few weeks later, this same guy goes on a drunken rampage and ninja-kicks out a window of a dorm building.

That is hilarious.....
 

"Why Women Dump the Guys Who Try the Hardest"

You paid for dinner. You drove. You said "whatever you want is fine" every single time. All the effort, no expectations.

And she left anyway — probably for a guy who makes her pick up the pizza.

Painful. Also predictable. Her mind quietly concludes that anything requiring zero effort from her is worth exactly zero. You became a free sample, and free samples get taken for granted.

The 22 Rules flip the dynamic. Small shifts that get her investing effort, money, and time in you — until SHE'S the one afraid of losing YOU.

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CableLight

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Originally posted by InsidiousNstinct
That is hilarious.....
In hindsight, yes...But at the time we were all pretty drunk and had a guy with a pretty serious leg wound to attend to. To this day I can look outside my door and see the bloody footprints that lead from the main lobby directly to our room, where a nice big dark that area still exists on the floor where he stood for a while.
 

CableLight

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Minor Update...

Here's what he did three weeks ago: He forgot his keys in another dorm, so he asks one of my friends if he could borrow their keys. Blah blah, he goes to go get them...On the way back to our room, he loses my buddy's keys. There's also a gigantic blizzard - worst of the year - going on at this time, mind you.

So, he goes out again and tries to find them. Guess what? He loses his keys in the process. Two sets of keys, gone. Adds up to about $150 worth of room/car keys.

The story, however, does not end there. Oh, no. He decides to make fliers for the missing keys. Okay, kinda dumb but at least he's putting in effort. Oh wait, he made a total of FOUR fliers. That's it. Then, he forgot to put a phone number on them, so basically it just said "Lost: Keys."

It blows my mind...

<EDIT> Might as well Link This
 

Hypoxia II

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Reminds me of a guy we used to call "Fleshwound".

When we got back from doing shows on the road we would always play a hometown show and he was always on the guestlist.. Not because he was a loyal fan, not because he was a great friend, not because he was a good roadie, but because he was a complete dumbazz!

Anytime this guy was around there was sure to be massive amounts of humor mixed with mild to moderate bloodshed, and all at his expense.

There are many stories about this man's misadventures but the most memorable was his botched stage dive attempt.

In the middle of our set the crowd was pumping, an enormous pit was circling in front of the stage. Out to the sides of the stage there was the general milling area which was packed butt cheek to butt cheek, and beyond that there was people as far as we could see all the way to the back wall. Out of nowhere comes Fleshwound through the middle of the pit. He gets a boost up towards the stage from a fellow mosher, reaches towards the stage and puts his foot up to step onto the stage, and slips.. Hits his chin on the stage, falls back into the pit to get trampled. This man has spirit though, he is determined. He tries again and is successfull this time. It's at this time I notice the the blood from his chin starting to run down his neck. I was not the only person to notice this , apparently everyone in front of the stage notices as well. He runs as fast as he can, leaps of the edge of the stage and is stopped abruptly when his forehead meets the concrete about 8 feet below him. The band plays on, as hard as I was laughing I still managed to play until I see Fleshwound, who is now a bit agitated with some other spectators, take chase after the nearest person. He then takes a swing at this person while running. You guessed it, he missed his target and connected with the soundbooth which had a loose nailhead sticking out of the corner. This loose nail found its way into Fleshwounds hand between two knuckles and removed a nice chunk of flesh.
At that point the band could no longer play as we had to catch our breath from laughing so damn hard. As for Fleshwound, there were medics in the venue and he was treated at the scene. However security detained him from entering the pit area again.

Mind you this was not his only incident.. These happened to him on a regular basis. Sad thing is he didn't drink. I say that's sad because I would love to have an excuse for this poor man.


Hpoxia II
 

"She Liked You in March. It's October Now."

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.

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CableLight

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Ouch...

I'll be honest here - I try...I mean I really, really try to see things from my "friend's" point-of-view, but I cant. Like, it's just way too messed up to even hypothesize the tragic madness that is his reality.

I don't know how some people can be so F'd up and keep going. I mean, if I did some of this sh!t this guy did, I'd have re-evaluated my life long ago, if, for nothing else, the greater good of mankind.
 
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