"She Wants a Man, Not a Boy"

You asked her if she wanted to grab coffee. Then you asked if the time worked. Then you asked if the place was okay. Then you asked if she'd prefer tea.

Four questions. Four chances for her to say no. Four signals that you're terrified of making a decision.

Plan it. Pick the place. Pick the time. Tell her where to meet you. She'll either show up or she won't.

Either way, you look like a man instead of a scared little boy.

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Guess whose baby got new ceramic brakepads today?!

"I just moved here from Florida."

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.

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piranha45

Master Don Juan
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brakepads are such a turnon
 

piranha45

Master Don Juan
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he drives an '84 honda civic.

he's been tricking his car out hardcore last few months-- he got one of those deer-antler wings put on it.
 

PRMoon

Master Don Juan
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how much did they run you? I need new rear brake pads...yeah i caught onto that drifting crap now my rear brakes are at 10% while my front ones are at 90.
 

"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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Docs

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Rice rockets....man....losers.

I smoke ricers with my 1989 Chevy Beretta all the fvcking time, and that's not even tricked out at all. Little fags pull up next to me wanting to go, and I just crack the throttle and well..damn...I'm ahead. Next thing you know, I cut them off or they get behind someone being normal...damn!

-_-, its disappointing to see a stock car smoke civics and other ugly ricers all the time.
 

diplomatic_lies

Master Don Juan
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Actually I've had morons who wanted to race me before. Usually I would agree, then I would let them go ZOOM while I drive slowly, waiting for the little traffic camera to snap a photo of their speeding car and send them a $500 fine.

So far, I've racked up 3 kills. I'm hoping to make 5 by the end of 2007 :D
 

[R]eality

Don Juan
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I drive a Ford F150, V8. The new pads ran me sixty dollars (front axle), and are pretty easy to put on. You just need two C-clamps - but can use one - and a tire iron and a ratchet set to undo the calipers, and new brakepads and maybe grease if you're ambitious enough to put it on the pads, between them and the pistons. The grease helps the two pads to wear down more evenly. It takes about maybe 45 minutes for both wheels.
 
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