She says the movie looks dumb; you suddenly agree. She tests you with a little attitude; you apologize for nothing.
You think you're being easy to get along with. She reads something else entirely: a man with no edges. Nothing to hold on to. No friction, no tension, no reason to wonder what he really thinks.
The "22 Rules" taught me to push back — playfully, calmly, without needing her approval. Strange things happened after that.
Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
Bonus points if you dress in all blue while lip syncing a Snoop Dogg tune.
Better start singing along to rap sings with the bar babes rich.
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.
A few months ago, there was this black guy at a bar wearing blue stuff claiming he was in the Crips. Sure, there were a few idiots who took him seriously, but I just did 4 years in the penal system. I've seen what that stuff is for real. They're pathetic little kids reminds you of middle school recess.
Yep. Gave up my johnny Carson shtick for multiple username abundance mentality.
Rich even better. Get a wingman who can beatbox while spitting dope 8 mile lyrics about you and you can bionic d1ck breakdance. You'll have a crowd of chicks singing along and you'll be the bar all-stars.
2pac is a hero.
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.
2pac is a boss
No, he was an idiot. And evolution is proven.
Macro evolution has and will never be proven.
It has, though. Maybe you don't know enough about it.
