That made me laugh so hard!Originally posted by kyanite
Me: :trouble:
French Faggots: :cheer: :rock:![]()
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.
That made me laugh so hard!Originally posted by kyanite
Me: :trouble:
French Faggots: :cheer: :rock:![]()
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.
I don't think anybody here actually cares. We're just letting the pinky boys know that they look gay and unmanly. It's a fashion tip.Originally posted by whistler
You guys care about the color of some other guy's shirt?!
You shouldn't even care...
You know why?
Because you shouldn't have time to care.
And because it reeks of anger motivated by, what else, fear...
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Your buddy Dave has been single for three years and thinks "hey u up" is a valid strategy. Your other buddy Mike just got dumped and told you to "just be yourself."
You showed them her text. You asked them to decode the emoji. You drafted four responses and sent the screenshot to the group chat for a vote.
She's been waiting forty minutes.
Put the phone down. Stop crowdsourcing your love life. Type something that sounds like you. Hit send. Then go do literally anything else with your evening.
I wouldn't pick out my son's clothes, that's a woman's jobOriginally posted by Happiness Renewed
so when u knock up the girl you got with your pink shirt and the baby is a boy...are u going to dress ur son up in pink too?
... if you have to resort to dressing like an unwashed auto mechanic just to impress a girl, your game is lacking. Some guys will wear a pink shirt over a wifebeater stained with engine oil any day of the week and still get laid. It's not what you wear, it's what's underneath it.As for the guys who are preaching the pink shirt thing, if you have to resort to dressing like a queer guy just to impress a girl, your game is lacking. I'll wear a wifebeater stained with engine oil over a barbie shirt any day of the week and still get laid. It's not what you wear, it's what's underneath it.
Yes, but only with members of the same gender.Some guys will wear a pink shirt over a wifebeater stained with engine oil any day of the week and still get laid.
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.
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.
lol yeah become a pinky boy to piss off a couple guys on a internet forumOriginally posted by thefonz
I don't wear pink but i'm strongly considering it just to piss you guys off.
My thoughts exactly! If you're contented with yourself and your own style, there is absolutely no reason to hate other people for their tastes. Live and let live.Originally posted by Hound_of_Love
So many posts on this site proclaiming that the most important tenet of the DJ faith is to be secure in yourself and all I'm reading here is an outpouring of insecurity against gays, metrosexuals and pink shirts(!)? Sweet baby Jesus people!
What do you do?Originally posted by Jariel
I'm an artist,
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.