"I just moved here from Florida."

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.

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What do about this sly little c*nt?

Dr. Dawg

Don Juan
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I'm f*cking fed up with this saga ... I'm constantly blaming myself, spending nights laying awake in my bed thinking of this and eating crap food and generally feeling depressed about it.

On the 13th December a friend and I headed back to the Uni dorms after a great night out. We met up with 3 other guys and hanged out in my neighbours room. Things were going OK, we were talking mostly about the night. Suddenly out of f8cking nowhere my neighbour starts spraying me with his deodorant. I'm like wtf and pushed him back asking why he'd done it.

He totally ignores me and continues, this time using a lighter spaying flames right at my face. I was quick enough to shield my eyes with my forearm, and in an act of self defence I hit him. And it's only at that point that my neighbour, ex friend, tells me to leave.



Ever since that incident I've moved dorms. But it's only until recently I found out he's been talking **** to my friends in the old dorm and people he knows outside. On top of that he has lied to my ex GF about what happened too.

He has told them all that I hit him AFTER he'd asked me to leave ... but that's BULL****. Complete and utter BULL****. I wouldn't even think of hitting someone if they'd asked me to leave - I would leave, like anyone else would.

So yeah .... I'm in a right pickle, I'm depressed, I don't eat properly, I've got serious insomnia ...

I'm going to speak to the University tomorrow - hopefully, if they even bother giving me 5 minutes.

Is there any advice you can give?

Thanks.
 

"You'll Never Feel READY to Walk Over"

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.

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Dr. Dawg

Don Juan
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backbreaker said:
yeah i'm pretty sure that's not what happened lol

That's pretty much what happened, I've got a friend of mine who was in the same room who can vouch for me .... Lol.
 
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