Dating tips underground secrets revealed ebook
If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Report copyright / DMCA form ALSO BY NEIL STRAUSS The Long Hard Road Out of Hell WITH MARILYN MANSON The Dirt WITH MOTLEY CRUE How to Make Love Like a Porn Star WITH JENNA JAMESON Don't Try This at Home WITH DAVE NAVARRO THE GAME PENETRATING THE SECRET SOCIETY OF PICKUP ARTISTS Neil Strauss Regan Books An Imprint of Harper Collins Publishers Cover silhouettes are from the following fonts : Darrian's Sexy Silhouettes by © Darrian ( Subeve by © Sub Communications ( Norp Icons 1 and Norp Icons 2 by © DJ Monkeyboy ( For information please write: Special Markets Department, Harper Collins Publishers Inc., 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022. I hoped he'd remain calm long enough for me to help him. He bolted out of his chair and ran out of the waiting room and through the front door of the building. I can't offer them a piece of my fame and bragging rights like a rock star or cocaine and a mansion like so many other men in Los Angeles. You may notice that I haven't mentioned my personality.
This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. In order to protect the identity of some women and members of the community, the names and identifying characteristics of a small number of incidental characters in this book have been changed, and three minor characters are composites. Harper Collins books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. Then I helped him into a pair of black boots, jeans, and a gray T-shirt. Every now and then, I'd see a tremor of anger flash across his face or tears roll out of his eyes. When I look down at my pale, slouched body, I wonder why any woman would want to sleep next to it, let alone embrace it. I'm not the kind of guy women giggle over at a bar or want to take home when they're feeling drunk and crazy.
When I look back on my teenage years, I have one major regret, and it has nothing to do with not studying hard enough, not being nice to my mother, or crashing my father's car into a public bus.
It is simply that I didn't fool around with enough girls.
CONT STEP 1 SELECT A TARGET 1 STEP 2 APPROACH AND OPEN 13 STEP 3 DEMONSTRATE VALUE 51 STEP 4 DISARM THE OBSTACLES STEP 5 ISOLATE THE TARGET 147 STEP 6 CREATE AN EMOTIONAL CONNECTION 207 107 ENTS STEP 7 EXTRACT TO A SEDUCTION LOCATION 243 STEP 8 PUMP BUYING TEMPERATURE 265 STEP 9 MAKE A PHYSICAL CONNECTION 319 STEP 10 BLAST LAST-MINUTE RESISTANCE 345 STEP 1 1 MANAGE EXPECTATIONS 387 GLOSSARY 439 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 451 STEP 1 SELECT A TARGET MEN WEREN'T REALLY THE ENEMY— THEY WERE FELLOW V I C T I M S SUFFERING FROM AN O U T M O D E D MASCULINE MYSTIQUE THAT MADE THEM FEEL UNNECESSARILY INADEQUATE WHEN THERE WERE NO BEARS TO KILL. He wore a gold silk robe that was several sizes too small, exposing his scabbed knees. So the best thing to do is not to play it." There was no one else in the house. He needed to be sedated before he snapped out of tears and back into anger. He'd changed my life, as he had the lives of thousands of others just like me. "He's left the premises." "So you're just going to let a suicidal man walk out of here? "Just have a therapist ready to see him if I get him back here." I ran out the door and looked to my right. The therapist sat behind a desk, running a finger through a black tangle in her hair. "I'm listening," she said, scrawling a note on her pad. "So I'm removing myself from the gene pool," he sobbed. "I've dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. But this sobbing giant with the crumpled tissue in his hands was the greatest pickup artist in the world. I'd met scores of the self- 7 proclaimed best in the previous two years, and Mystery could out-game them all. There was only one person alive who could possibly compete with him. From a formless lump of nerd, Mystery had molded me into a superstar. We had pulled off spectacular pickups before the disbelieving eyes of our students and disciples in Los Angeles, New York, Montreal, London, Melbourne, Belgrade, Odessa, and beyond. Though I am not bald, to say that my hair is thinning would be an understatement.
Boys and men came from every corner of the globe to shake our hands, take photos with us, learn from us, be us. And Mystery's rampage during the last few days had left the rest of the place totaled and the residents petrified. "I can't tell you what this feels like," he choked out between sobs. "I don't know what I'm going to do, but it will not be rational." 4 He reached up from the floor and punched the stained red upholstery of the sofa as the siren-wail of his despondency grew louder, filling the room with the sound of a grown male who has lost every characteristic that separates man from infant from animal. When we arrived, the social workers led him down a long, dark hallway and into a claustrophobic cubicle with a sheet-vinyl floor. "I'm feeling," Mystery said, "like there's no point to anything." He burst into tears. "You should see me when I'm not like this," he continued slowly, sniffling. My nose is too large for my face and, while not hooked, has a bump in the ridge.