SELF-MASTERY
Banned
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2004
- Messages
- 1,971
- Reaction score
- 7
The nastiest thing that I have every done is.........
taste my own shyt and my own urine.
taste my own shyt and my own urine.
When a woman says it, guys hear a confession. A heads-up. A scheduling conflict.
Here's the translation: I don't feel anything. Right now. With you.
Watch what happens when a man triggers actual attraction. The busy career, the recent breakup, the "not in a place to date" — all of it evaporates instantly. The same woman who was guarding her freedom is suddenly free every night.
The "22 Rules" explain why. When the right switches flip, her timeline rearranges itself around you.
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.
yeah right...TyTe`EyEs said:This must be Mastery's attempt at getting banned. It was inevitable...
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.
Did you make it up to her??? I know she was pissed at you.Taviii said:I pucked in a girls bag of clothes right before new years eve so ruining the event for her.
I, for one, don't find this as nasty as many people would.SELF-MASTERY said:The nastiest thing that I have every done is.........
taste my own shyt and my own urine.
You can skip the expensive cars, the fancy clothes, and the endless gym selfies. Completely unnecessary.
I used to freeze the second a beautiful woman looked my way. Frustrated. Awkward. Watching other guys walk away with the girl while I stood there tongue-tied.
Then I discovered 22 simple rules that rewired my entire dating life. The anxiety vanished. Conversations flowed effortlessly. Women started chasing me for a change.
These rules trigger a woman's subconscious attraction switches. And you can start using them tonight.
Common sense almost made me apologise, but I fought the urge and didnt even look at her.SELF-MASTERY said:Did you make it up to her??? I know she was pissed at you.
Dude, I can beat that. I listened to an entire album by the B-52s.The nastiest thing that I have every done is.........
taste my own shyt and my own urine.
Oh man, I'm a sick fuq then... I've listened to the whole Aqua album.Desdinova said:Dude, I can beat that. I listened to an entire album by the B-52s.
Warm and full-bodied, with earthy, nutty overtones and hints of berries that dwindle to a bitter, smokey finish...pooparu said:What did that c*m taste like though man, I'm too ***** to taste my own lol.
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.
OMG this thread is so funny :crackup:Vulpine said:Hell, I can't go out to eat anywhere without going home and blasting hot, frothy jets of liquid fire through a screen door....
I guess there was this time that I got snowballed during naughty-drunken sex.... I can't really comment on how good or bad it tasted: it's not like I'm a connoiseur and have tasted any other loads to compare it to.... and spit it back out all over her face - like a "3rd hand money shot".
Then I got up and got a big drink of water.
LMAO, nah bro its cool i'll take your word for it.Vulpine said:Warm and full-bodied, with earthy, nutty overtones and hints of berries that dwindle to a bitter, smokey finish...
Come on, dude, what the fuq do you want me to tell you?
It's bitter, salty, and gives you a weird stinging, scratchy feeling in your throat. Everyone has different tastes - some don't like olives, pineapple, or coconut. So, some people spit, some swallow... Mine might taste like pumpkin pie compared to some others - I wouldn't know.
Try your own spunk and get back to us, pooparu. Go. Now. Go shake one out into a shot glass and neck it.
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.