Poonani Maker
Master Don Juan
- Joined
- Apr 29, 2007
- Messages
- 4,392
- Reaction score
- 927
I KNOW I am. 24 yr old blonde/blue eyes, petite, just how I like them.
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.
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.
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.
So what steps are you taking to change that?Nygard said:Theres only three things for sure every morning I wake up :
The sun is going to rise.
The sun is going to set.
I'm not getting laid.
Yeah, there's your answer.
Opening the vodka bottle, putting it into my mouth, drinking it and trying something out. It raises confidence.So what steps are you taking to change that?
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.
Hahahah:crackup:teagan said:Does it count if I had her naked but couldn't do anything cause alcohol made my guy only stand half mast?
I don't know. If you can't sex her properly and feel sexed yourself properly, you know, "the Rush" and anticipation of touching and fondling, feeling her jiggly breasts, then you're not getting laid. Sex is sex. If she's into you and you into her, then you got laid, but it can't just be kissing, it must be all clothes off and body against body and not necessarily penetration, but there must be fingering and/or rubbing of the pvss outside her panties and her juicing your hand through her panties. All this I experienced last night + penetration.teagan said:Does it count if I had her naked but couldn't do anything cause alcohol made my guy only stand half mast?
What's sad is that you can't take the posts for what they're worth, that is, to spin plates. I called 5 girls before the redhead agreed to have me over. All the others were either busy or didn't answer.Bluntmaster said:Damn, 34 years old and still feel the need to brag to a bunch of AFC's on Sosuave.
Pretty sad.
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.
Poonani Maker said:What's sad is that you can't take the posts for what they're worth, that is, to spin plates. I called 5 girls before the redhead agreed to have me over. All the others were either busy or didn't answer.
All I know is my d!ck and whole body felt fantastic afterwards as it does right now. This great feeling or "afterglow" will stay with me almost a whole week until I bang some other chick next week. That's all that matters. I don't think I want to ever get married.Bluntmaster said:But you ended up banging some white trash slut with red bumps on her p/ssy and you think that's something to be proud of.
Well I mean, I know how it works. We ran around the bases a few times but it all ended up with me staring at my **** wanting to backhand him for not doing his duty. And she was so impatient, she wouldn't wait an hour or two for me to sober up a little. Unfortunately for her too, my hangover got the best of me in the morning.Poonani Maker said:I don't know. If you can't sex her properly and feel sexed yourself properly, you know, "the Rush" and anticipation of touching and fondling, feeling her jiggly breasts, then you're not getting laid. Sex is sex. If she's into you and you into her, then you got laid, but it can't just be kissing, it must be all clothes off and body against body and not necessarily penetration, but there must be fingering and/or rubbing of the pvss outside her panties and her juicing your hand through her panties.
Poonani Maker said:All I know is my d!ck and whole body felt fantastic afterwards as it does right now. This great feeling or "afterglow" will stay with me almost a whole week until I bang some other chick next week. That's all that matters. I don't think I want to ever get married.
Lol, ouch! ouch!Bluntmaster said:But you ended up banging some white trash slut with red bumps on her p/ssy and you think that's something to be proud of.
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.