penkitten
Master Don Juan
regular cheerios
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.
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.
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.
hmmmmm.... cheeerios. they're pretty good.penkitten said:regular cheerios
they are good for your heart too .brucevangeorge said:hmmmmm.... cheeerios. they're pretty good.
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.
Hahahaha. Well, assuming this isn't a BS troll post, I gather that you don't know that limbs start rotting from gangrene on you when type II diabetes destroys the circulation to your lower limbs? Or that diabetes II can cause your retina to pull away from the back of your eye socket?brucevangeorge said:I LIVE my life peoples! I don't want no healthy foods like oatmeal or fruits or veg tables. I want SUGAR! SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR!!!
****ty food = great life.
If you don't let yourself loose and eat all this garbage you might die at 50 and regret that you've never had a deep-fried twinkie, or a deep-fried mars bar or hell even that 60lb hamburger they have in some joints.
Who cares about eating healthy and prolonging life? You're going to die anyway. Might as well enjoy it and eat all the garbage you can. That way when you have an autopsy at the hospital from dying of multiple heart faliure... you'll give that doctor a field day!
Live life, eat sh!t.
It's supposed to be sarcastic.Boschy said:Hahahaha. Well, assuming this isn't a BS troll post, I gather that you don't know that limbs start rotting from gangrene on you when type II diabetes destroys the circulation to your lower limbs? Or that diabetes II can cause your retina to pull away from the back of your eye socket?
Yeah, sounds like real fun to me!!![]()
Holy crap! I didn't know that. I'm going to avoid that from now on.Docs said:Ok, comeon here.
And I better not eat AllBran, because it withholds my a**h*** from spraying.
Most guys accidentally kill attraction before they even speak. They assume they need a bigger bank account, a better physique, or smoother lines. They miss the point.
Female desire operates on a specific set of psychological triggers. Break them, and you're invisible. Follow them, and you become magnetic.
I learned this the hard way. Years of freezing up. Getting friend-zoned. Watching other guys walk away with the girl I wanted. Then I discovered a set of 22 simple rules that rewired my entire approach.
This space age crap has got to stop you know? I thought good old zinc was the way to gozink!
Thanks for making the signal-to-noise ratio on the Internet a teeny bit worse.brucevangeorge said:It's supposed to be sarcastic.
You know.... sarcasm?
I realize that its hard to tell by reading just text, but try to use your imaginaion and read between the lines.
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.