"The Coffee Shop Girl You Never Spoke To"

You've replayed it a hundred times. She stood three feet away, scrolling her phone. You had an opening. You composed the perfect line — after she was gone.

For all you know, she's married now. To some guy who said something. Anything.

Openers are cheap. Almost any sentence works when it's delivered within three seconds. The expensive part is the standing there, drafting and deleting, while the window quietly closes.

The "22 Rules" stripped out my hesitation. What to open with, how to keep it alive, and the one habit that costs guys more women than anything else: waiting for perfect.

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Guess whose baby got new ceramic brakepads today?!

"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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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.
 

"She's Out of Your League"

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.

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Docs

Banned
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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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