FireOnTheMountain
Don Juan
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2007
- Messages
- 171
- Reaction score
- 3
These are good, but someof them take a lot more skill than I presently have. The more innuendo/direct ones need really good delivery for you not to sound like a creep.
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'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.
When a woman says it, guys hear a confession. A heads-up. A scheduling conflict.
Here's the translation: I don't feel anything. Right now. With you.
Watch what happens when a man triggers actual attraction. The busy career, the recent breakup, the "not in a place to date" — all of it evaporates instantly. The same woman who was guarding her freedom is suddenly free every night.
The "22 Rules" explain why. When the right switches flip, her timeline rearranges itself around you.
dude....wtf?randomshinichi said:To a black girl (important, loses funny part if you say this to anybody else)
me: you know, talking to black people is seriously hard.
her: why?
me: it's hard to tell when they're facing you.
When a woman says it, guys hear a confession. A heads-up. A scheduling conflict.
Here's the translation: I don't feel anything. Right now. With you.
Watch what happens when a man triggers actual attraction. The busy career, the recent breakup, the "not in a place to date" — all of it evaporates instantly. The same woman who was guarding her freedom is suddenly free every night.
The "22 Rules" explain why. When the right switches flip, her timeline rearranges itself around you.
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.
Absolute gold right thereoldschooler said:After I catch a girl looking at me.
B: Do I have something on my face or are you just the staring kind? *Casual smiley face*.
G: No, no I wasn't staring at you. *Smiles interested*.
B: Happens all the time, don't feel bad.
G: So you tend to have that effect, huh?
B: Well, apparently on you.
G: *Laughs*, (I think she said unbelievable under her breath).
B: I know right, your lucky, I normally don't give future stalkers the time of day.
G: *Looks offended* (Thinks I had gone too far but maintains eye-contact smiling.)
G: What's your number?
B: 0, I like the number 0 and I'm willing to bet you do too.
G: I so hate you right now *smiling*.
B: You can't hate me we're family.
G: *Punches my arm*, sorry bro.
B: Hey incest isn't my thing but as long as you don't scream 'harder brother!', I'll deal with it.
G: Your sick, what's your name.
B: Speaking of screaming, sounds like you need a new name to scream out.
G: *Sarcastic tone* Your right, take me to the toilets and **** me like a slut.
B: I'm more of a long walks on the beach type guy.
G: *Looks at me intently* gonna give me your number.
B: No but you will give me yours.
G: Mutters unbelieveable.
*Gets number and walks off without saying goodbye*.
That night she calls proclaiming she got my number 'off a friend'.
B: Is that friend, friends with the phone book or?
G: *murmours*.
B: Your cute, meet me at X tomorrow at X. *hangs up*.
I went there an hour early because I had to do things there anyway and guess who had 'the same idea'.
She was easy, I don't know if that's C + F but it definetely would have been one of my most successful occasions, EVER.
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.