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.
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.
Secure your future.cola said:What's next?
Agreed, %100.WC2 said:Secure your future.
Do things that make you happy/you're good at.
Meet new people.
The list goes on. In reality, these things should be well above banging women.
Forget the cash, the cars, and the chiseled jawlines. Female desire operates on a completely different frequency. Primal. Subconscious. Triggers that bypass her logic and hit her on a gut level. Most guys are totally blind to them.
I know because I was one of them. The overthinking. The paralysis. The silent drive home kicking yourself for freezing up. Watching average guys walk away with the girl while you stood there stuck in your own head.
Then I decoded the psychology behind what actually makes women tick. 22 hard rules. Subtle behavioral shifts that rewired my entire reality. The anxiety evaporated. Women started leaning in. Investing. Chasing.
Next, despite everyone having told you this for years, you accept one of life's boldest lessons on account of your own experience;cola said:What's next?
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.
I...LIKE...THIS.magickarl said:Remember when you were a child? A woman's vajayjay was likely one of the last things on your mind. Yet most of us were happy. In fact, much happier than we are today. I know that I would have much rather played kickball or tag than hung out with a girl. I sure as hell cared a lot more about my report card.
We should take a lesson from children -- Do what makes you happy first, achieve that happiness. Women and sexuality are secondary.
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.
So.......where do I sign up?dbot said:What comes next? I'll tell you what comes next... you enter a vortex of constant dissatisfaction and anxiety because all the women you're screwing aren't making you happy. So what do you do? You fuck even more women, to the point where it's a daily occurrence that only sinks you deeper and deeper into an abyss of depression and detachment, until one day, while busting a load all over the face of some random woman whose name you can't even recall, you ask yourself, "am I really here? Is this my life?" And after finally realizing that fulfilling your sexual urges and aggressively fucking every woman in sight completely senseless HASN'T improved your life on any significant level, you will then modify your life goals and try to forget all the nasty truths you've learned about humans and their natural defiance, infidelity, and backstabbing behavior. But it will be in vain, as your emotional scars will not heal in time for you to regain confidence in other people's ability to love, or even care.
Good luck.
lol :crackup:Drewskie said:So.......where do I sign up?
One of the oldest players I know is 70, a millionare with 28 and 34 year old girlfriends.Prodigy746 said:lol i dont think you can ever get enough girls... its like you dont care about sex after you just did it but than next day you want to have sex anymore. I dont think that changes until you are very old..
Wow, I'm going to print this up and hang it on my desk. This is just unbelievable. This is how I feel. This is poetry my friend. So true......dbot said:What comes next? I'll tell you what comes next... you enter a vortex of constant dissatisfaction and anxiety because all the women you're screwing aren't making you happy. So what do you do? You fuck even more women, to the point where it's a daily occurrence that only sinks you deeper and deeper into an abyss of depression and detachment, until one day, while busting a load all over the face of some random woman whose name you can't even recall, you ask yourself, "am I really here? Is this my life?" And after finally realizing that fulfilling your sexual urges and aggressively fucking every woman in sight completely senseless HASN'T improved your life on any significant level, you will then modify your life goals and try to forget all the nasty truths you've learned about humans and their natural defiance, infidelity, and backstabbing behavior. But it will be in vain, as your emotional scars will not heal in time for you to regain confidence in other people's ability to love, or even care.
Good luck.
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.