Fenderules
Master Don Juan
i heard about the aussies......... yeah and the meth.
You replay the conversation at 2 a.m. She texted back fast yesterday. Today, nothing. Was that smile friendly or flirty? What did the shoulder touch mean?
Every hour you spend decoding her signals drains your confidence and hands her the controls. Women can sense that insecurity from across the room — and it repels them.
One of the "22 Rules" kills the obsession on the spot: assume she likes you, and act accordingly. Sounds too simple. Works anyway.
Her interest tends to rise to meet your expectations. Psychologists call it a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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.
She calls you when her car breaks down. When she needs help moving. When some guy she's actually dating treats her badly.
You're the listener. The reliable one. The guy who would treat her so much better, if she'd just open her eyes.
She won't. You trained her to see you as the low-effort option — the friend who requires zero risk and zero investment. Every favor dug the hole deeper.
The "22 Rules" break the pattern. You'll stop auditioning for a role she already cast and become the man she chases instead. It starts with Rule 1.
exactly what went through my mind!!!!!! hahahahaEntropy4 said:Haha, what a suspenseful thread.
And LOL at a 17 year old giving beer recommendations. ROFL
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.
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.
Real talk. This includes bud!!!!A-Unit said:I'm always suspect of women who do ANY drugs, because most of them get drugs for free if they fvck the deal OR did fvck the dealer at one point.
wow that actually sounds like a great nightCentaurion said:Damn.
I'm ****ed up beyond belief right now.
Today was a really boring Sunday and I'd been studying for my finals all day, so I headed out pretty late with a couple of mates just for the hell of it.
Anyways, we get to this club an hour before closing time. Right away I see that a lot of people have hooked up, or were in the process of hooking up, so my chances to score some tail for the night looked really grim. But this did not deter me from carrying out my mission.
Within a couple of minutes I spot this really cute chick (a solid HB8) standing by herself at the bar. But I see that a couple of guys had zoned in on her, so I had to be quick. Without thinking twice I walked up to her, and blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. It went something like this,
Cent : "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something?"
HB8 : "Huh? Eeeeh what do you want?"
Cent : "You see, me and a couple of mates mine are having this bet. They said I couldn't walk up to a random chick and get a kiss within 3 mins. And they promised me a case of VB (aussie beer) if I got a kiss. So what do you say? I'll even split it with you.."
HB8 : "hmmm...I'll do it if I get the case"
Cent : "wooow, you're not THAT hot!" <-- c&f tone
HB8 : *shocked*
I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips at this point. Yes I know, it's ultra lame!!!! But I was drunk and this was the first thing that came to my mind. It worked though.
Still it worked.
By this time it was last call, and before I knew it I was really macking on her. It was nuts. I don't know what happened at this point, but soon I was in a cab heading to her place.
At her place she was really into it, and soon we were on the bed fooling around. That's when she brought out this glass-pipe thing. I was like,
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Cent : "what the hell is that?"
HB8 : "it's Ice...real good stuff...try it!"
Cent : *drunk as hell* "OK!"
I know it was ****ing stupid, but the ****ing moment had me. She warmed up the pipe and told me to inhale the smoke (I havnt done alot of drugs beside the usual pot, so I had no ****ing idea what it was). I remember sucking on this pipe while she was sucking my d*ck.
At his point I remember everything, but my inhibition and common sense was thrown out the window. As I said, the moment had me, and she was the bj queen, rubbing my d*ck all over her. And then she suddenly slipped it in without condom.
I just wentagain, and she was, "don't worry, I'm on the pill".
Stupid me didn't get up and b*tchslap the b*tch as she deserved, and I kept going.
A while into it I asked her how much this stuff costs, cause it was really good (ice). And she,
Hb8 : "Don't worry, it's free. I **** the dealer!"
For the third time, I wentbut this time, my spider-sense kicked in. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut while pouring hot lava over my d*ck!
****! ****, this freaked me out. Here I was, drunk, high and ****ing this ***** without a condom, and she'd just admitted to **** a drugdealer on a regular basis. Holy ****ing **** guys!!!
It took me about a couple of minutes before composing myself as I had to fight down this urge to b*tchslap her beyond belief. ****! I gathered my **** and got the hell out of dogde as fast as I could.
So here I am, 5 am in the morning. Holy ****. I've been checking out these std sites, and when the clinic opens, I'll be the first one there.
Moral of the story, take ****ing care guys. ALWAYS use a condom, and don't **** chicks that **** dealers!
Holy ****! I'm staying the **** away from chicks for a while now.
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.