Yes, "life is a game"-- but if you see romance as "a conquest", then you've "already lost" because you have profoundly "the wrong attitude". Women and girls truly want somebody "to bond with them", to merge in mind, body and soul which you can only do by being in complete sympathy and understanding with them-- which profoundly throws out the idea of malevolence.
A lot of teenage guys, sniggering together-- talk about methodically n' laboriously "dribbling a ball" or puck or whatever into the woman's territory where through much maneuvering "like a long climb of trepidation", they shoot "and score" with a sexual encounter, usually at her pathetic expense. But think about this-- graced with your size, strength, determination, and single-mindedness, would you beat up a girl? Obviously it wouldn't "be a fair fight", on or off the soccer field or in any kind of competition in which a female "is at a distinct disadvantage", except to turn up her nose and conclude that "you dead-beats" can only "mean trouble".
She refuses to play. She won't even "step out onto the field"-- because to her, this is not about competition but "profound cooperation". And if you're there to swindle her, "then she won't go for it". And if you're someone profoundly "unworth cooperating with", she won't "go for it either".
A lot of guys make the mistake that if they see a girl dribbling a ball-- and then when that quiet, mostly self-conscious person steps out onto the field-- they presume that girl "is interested in them" even though "all the action" is kept profoundly right in "the friendly middle" where she continues to dance a little, self-involved circle with her prattle. Sorry, but girls don't "go on the offensive" on romantic matters. Usually not, or "very little"-- and it's up to you "to take the initiative" and move the ball forward.
You do this by "being half-aggressive, half-playful"-- mastering the art of timing with a bit of hesitation, misdirection, "knowing when to look away", and adopting a deep, friendly, yet soothing voice that halfway knows that it's being "a bit wicked", yet cute like an imp that is fundamentally aware of itself and deep down inside "means really well". Once women sense that they're not a blunt, neurotic obsession nor that you're a shaky bundle of nerves "that needs to be saved", you will fundamentally come across as something "far less blind and grasping", which will only scare them.
So, dribbling the ball together-- you kick it back and forth, down the field, toward the goal-- which is a pleasant little romantic relationship in which you really enjoy each others' company, because the whole way the two of you were being honest, and can trust each other very well. Anything works "if you're both giver's".
(David D'Angelo "Mr. Right"
Would you believe, man-- this program can help?
ON TO CAT THINK. . . . .
It's always young men "as teenagers" or in their 20's who are the ones building start-up's, whether tech companies OR HEAVY METAL BANDS because they're young and dumb and enthusiastic. They also make GREAT SOLDIERS; just so long as they don't get distracted down on on some langouring, liberal, "oh-too-sensitive" indie-alt, tapped Italian-loafer ironic/shoe-gazing route. . . . . like a video somewhere that had Winona laughing and drinking wine in violet, moon-lit tints in a mephisto of mirrors, "if not some air of mystery" while some wind-swept anime vagabond/hero peered on sadly, with infinite solicitude through the "scree" of the wind.
I think you gals tend not to be as nearly "whacked-out" in all of those distressingly n' depressingly MALE WAYS that would make us so hopeless, say-- as the young man there in "The Social Network" who kept fumbling it down there at "college night" with the fake I.D. here in this world of shallow, hateful veneers AND BOGUS EXPECTATIONS that perchance, "our mothers" never told us about. Of course, only SOME GOOFUS LIKE HIM OR I could have "the time n' inclination" to get good at such "a garage hobby" while a gal would typically have much more "commonsense".
If a guy and a gal are sitting down to play "Super Mario Bros."-- the lad IS PROBABLY GONNA BE WAY BETTER AT SCIENCE n' GADGETS n' VIDEO GAMES-- "and how WOULD IT BE FAIR" if he played 14 screens "before losing a life" when "player number 2" would ka-LOONK down in the first pit "because she was out of practice". Then "Mario-Boy" would take over and the poor gal "would never get a turn". Now, ole' "Game-Master" may not necessarily "play his best match" out of a sense of "fairness", for the sense of bonding they could have there "playing the game"-- which is WHERE REAL POINTS ARE MADE "beyond saving the Princess" when he has a real princess right here.
As the great, experienced Nintendo-boy, he helps her along with friendliness, encouragement, and support-- and ole' Mario leaps toward the sky doing back-flip's, offering "a high-five"-- even on that ole' stubborn 8-bit format that was rigid and formulaic as those game cartridges "or some hopeless pick-up line", that you know-- "would kinda getcha laughed out of town".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EvuNe9UoYU
http://www.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/12/19/greene.publicist.murder/
"Ronnie Chassen" in life should not be pigeon-holed as either A) a
Hollywood Publicist; or B) a Yo-Yo enthusiast through whatever kind of
mismatched "media whimsy". What "a dum-dum". Either her coffin "being lowered
down into the grave" or your pathetic, toadying ass "that writes the article"
and avoids THE TRUTH OF IT". Now, I can "wink" at
the world of Hollywood "morays" that, deep in a child-like memory, must still
reminesce "with magical laugher" over "Miracle on 42nd Street" joy for "Santa
Claus" & "Yo-Yo's" in some sentimental kitsch "T.V. Land" of Jewish imagination "gone
by" in this lady's mind. . . . . however, that world IS GONE and I am not here
to gratify your threatened, cracked, "the
fish-bowl-is-turned-upside-down"/I'm-slowly-asphxixating-on-my-own-fumes/I-BELIEVE-IN-NOTHING-HIGHER-THAN-WORLD-OF-CANDY-DISH-KISTCH-ILLUSION.
. . . . certainly not at the expense of The United States
of America. You win over people like this by
appealing to their inner child "and comforting their fears". Your attempts to
play "Jewish bully" are as laughable as they are embarrassing "before the eyes of
the troops", if not bitter, hard-core men chewin' over this n' glarin' into
the fire of Scotch-Irish war-whoops n' split-open 'Injun carcasses, if not a
beheaded CAMEL. Even you grimacing "chair-bearers" in
the house of stinking corruption, "if not paper-thin credibility of stock
certificate infallability" sailing out the window "like paper air-planes" and
looted digital "fish-wrap".
Believe it or not. . . . . (-- and HATE ME "for saying it") but that ole' hub-cab fencer "Leo" DID ALL THE RIGHT THINGS in "Titanic", or at least the script-doctor "ordered up" the right COCK-TAIL that had women swoonin'. "Jack" or whoever was a kind, understanding sympathetic LISTENER who gave Kate Winslet THE RIGHT KIND OF EMOTIONAL SUPPORT and made her feel as if "she could fly", in fact-- he laid his hands on her hip and let her soar on the prow of the ship "and let her know THAT SHE REALLY COULD DO IT AFTER-ALL". He excited her love of adventure, art, and "the common-man's jig" away from the world of stultified, trapped conformity and "the pressure of upright appearences" and the belabored march of pinched-shoe EXPECTATIONS like some doll-house CRYPT of wealth & privillege, if not ultimate UNHAPPINESS to the limit of some dead autumn-leave/strewn abyss of miserable old age to the frumpy satisfaction "of those who would NEVER EXPECT DIFFERENT". Death to any presumed "Age of Innocence" and CRUSH THE INSECT of mavenly disapproval, if not bug-eyed wastoids of "what passes" as counter-culture FATHERS who have long since betrayed their ideals to the Jew's fiddle and the Satanic, perked-up ears of the slightest discord of "alternative media" dissent. FUCK YOU ALL TO HELL and may you sizzle on Satan's spit down there like cranked, quasi-Kosher sausage and leering devils grin and smack their grueling Palestinian Authority lips down in a Kazhakkistan weapons Bazaar with "Borat" on accordian and Tom Metzger on xylophone and Lord Haw-Haw on BASS.
"Listen up,
People". . . . .
There is a video circulating around YouTube which hasn't gotten "too many hits"
yet, but is attempting to sell you "a fantasy"-- routed through this site called
"Seduction Ace". For one, the video sells you on a glamorous conception "of
unattainabilty", turning Winona into a vaguely "Pamela Anderson/Heather
Locklear" type character which simply isn't realistic-- and fundamentally no
woman really thinks or acts like this, unless they're conforming to some fantasy
role "that society expects of them". Maybe there's a moment when you catch "a
glimmer", or "a flash"-- but sometimes an entire culture of misconception can be
built around "those few fleeting seconds". Next, you click on the webpage and
are given a "flat-out, hard-sell" that at once puts you down for some common
male vulnerabilities, those who would even "be led inside the tent", makes your
eyes widen with suggestive imagery, and then tries to get you "to sign up" with
some kind of dark, instant gratification "that probably won't work". In my
experience, signing up for such "whispered products" will only get you in "a
death-lock" when they exploit your fear "of being discovered" and keep charging
your bank statement. Think about this-- would you really want that young, cute
teller "to know", much less a voice on the phone? Now you know the sad truth of
it.
Back to "Bambi"
"Back to "Kiwi"
*******************
"You want a-nuther song? Well I ain't plain' one mutherfuckin' note until someone comes up here and puts sum money in my god-damned tip-jar! You know I only came here for one purpose. . . . . to take yor fuckin' cash! Why, I could make more profit puttin' out my meth-head neighbor's asshole and ringin' a bell, hollerin' 'Man for sale! Man for sale!'
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
(Rheeee of Crickets)
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("I heard that, Missy!")
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