"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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Ninja's girls (pics)

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frivolousz21

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because everyone here seems to love the cardinals..including me..just wondering if u were on that bangwagon..

I love when the Europeans talk of soccer...and say wtf is baseball
 

"How I Made Sure No Woman Ever Friend-Zoned Me Again"

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.

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groundzero

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Thought wrong about you

I come on here once in a while to read threads that are interesting. To see some of your post you seem like a DJ to me. But in the end you got your card pulled...It all turns out that you were just a fake...Haha...What a loser! how do you post pics of peeps you don't know...:down: :trouble:
 

christz

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Real DJ's? dude toya is my friend we talked back in the day like almost every day, and yeah i even ran up a huge a$$ phone bill by talking to her from the states.

the only DJ here would be me considering how could i possibly know you were posting fake pictures. troll on, i'll spot you on other forums no doubt.
 

Wyldfire

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Honestly, I don't know who is worse...Black Italian for lying about some girl or christz for rambling on and on about how this girl wasn't Black Italian's ex gf because she's his online friend.

Both of you need to turn off the freaking computer and go outside and meet someone who you aren't seeing through a damn webcam.

That is all...
 

"She Laughed All Night. Then She Ghosted You. Here's Why."

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.

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skeeloo

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agreed as long as this cyber gal they seem to value arnt both on your ****s at the end of the night you both should keep it down.

still the outing was good by christz
 

Bradshaw

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Originally posted by Wyldfire
Honestly, I don't know who is worse...Black Italian for lying about some girl or christz for rambling on and on about how this girl wasn't Black Italian's ex gf because she's his online friend
Who is worse? Black_Italian. Hands down.

christz was just protecting an innocent girls reputation. That's a noble fight in my books.
 

"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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