The InterwebPlayboy Dating Method™
"A powerful, insightful look at the nature of man & woman, beset by the conflict and contention within corporate America." - The New York Times
Hello, I say to you, gentlemen of SoSuave dot com. My name is InterwebPlayboy, though you will instead refer to me as
Dr. Playboy, as I didn't spend all those years in Doctor School just to be mixed up with you common folk. I'm here to divulge the 'Secret of Woman' through my latest scriptures, entitled
The InterwebPlayboy Dating Method.™ Unique among all other dating theories, books, and systems - being the
only one composed by a man of actual value and regard. I'm speaking of myself, of course, as I often do. Now then - People of SoSuave, I say to you this: Walk with me and follow me into wonderland, for I plan to show you just how deep the vaginal hole truly goes.
Why should you choose to adopt this
InterwebPlayboy Dating Method™ of mine, you ask? Simple. Because I date only women with large breasts and snug vaginas, whom I toss to the gutter once I've had my fill with. Because I've been slamming these broads, bareback and in the backseat of my foreign sports car, before the best parts of
you were even dripping down your mama's ass crack. And because I'm a goddamned scientist, you little pissers.
That's why.
I see misinformation being spread among the Don Juans here, and it's a sad affair. Fortunately, Dr. Playboy, the benefactor without equal, has chosen to radiate his supreme wisdom upon you patently clueless AFC Don Juan derelicts. Oh yes, come hell or high water,
I'll turn every single one of you little boys into the Real Men your father's once envisioned. And once you learn to be the true Men of Men you scarcely deserve to be, the b!tches will flock and you'll finally have your pick. And at that point, if a particular woman
doesn't immediately submit to your confident, masculine demeanor,
it's only because she's too frickin stupid to recognize greatness. And she's proboably one of them goddamned frisco lezbo wh0res.
You see, as Men, we are naturally much stronger and larger than women.
That means we're better, more important, and we make all the fvcking rules! Why should we, as men, be intimidated by these creatures? It was no accident when the Good Lord made women weak, frail, and pitiful in form.
So the next time you're feeling nervous before an approach, remember that you could easily beat this little girl into oblivion. Remember that she only remains conscious and upright because you're
allowing it. And most importantly, remember that girls are stupid and annoying once you get to know them anyway.
When approaching, you must quickly elicit value, as it's a well-known fact that
all women decide who they'll fvck within milliseconds or less. To elicit value you must mention something positive about yourself.
Since you're here reading this self-help dating method, you're undoubtedly a useless, miserable excuse of a man. But you indeed seek change, so we can't fault you for your pathetic lifestyle. To combat the absolute, utter disgust that all women see you as,
you must cast your honesty aside in the presence of a lady, and instead speak to her with creative, elaborate lies of your successful career, financial prosperity, and sickly grandmother whom you care dearly for. If the woman in question happens to be repulsively obese, or anywhere outside the acceptable 100lb - 115lb weight range I've defined, you can forego all previous advice, tell her she has 'pretty eyes', and be done with the ordeal entirely. You see, these large women warrant little effort, nor do they demand it.
Studies have shown fat women to be vile, disgusting examples of humanity, and researchers have argued they should be hunted and shot-down in order to thin the ranks, but it's a somewhat controversial issue, to be fair. Indeed, it's been documented heavily, and as such, Dr. Playboy does not associate with such filth. You may wish to follow suit, unless you are an overweight, offensive mutant of humanity yourself, in which case I say to thee: Be gone, foul nave, away from the Inter-Nets and away from these Don Juans. And take your fatass World-In-Warcrafts e-girlfriend with you, you sh!tfvcker. For the rest of us have urgent matters to discuss.
We must discuss 'The Game' and how it works, of course. You see, we're all males here, and henceforth we all possess certain traits, talents, attributes and accomplishments that females desire in a partner. Your game should be interesting, clever, and even sexual at times. It should be dynamic and adjust as rapport builds. My game, for example, is
very interesting, clever, and often sexually driven, if the situation merits such. Then, too, my game is also quite dynamic and often adjusts as rapport builds, to be completely honest.
Of course I won't bother to explain what my game entails, because even if you've heard of such methods, which you haven't, you couldn't possibly even begin to understand the workings of it all. I'm not condescending, I'm simply smarter than you. So when I'm talking to a woman who's hot and attractive, I use my game on her. And because my game works
every time, I'll often choose to pound her puss, right then and right there, but only if I've the time to spare. I like my game because it's great, unlike yours.
You, a Don Juan in training, an AFC, you have no game. Well, no game comparable to Dr. Playboy's, and you never will, so don't even try. You game how your DJ Bible tells you to game. You game how movies like Hitch and Alfie suggest you should game.
Hell, maybe you're even pathetic enough to game according to some worthless article you read on the frickin Inter-Net. Here's the point: Your game sucks. The truth is, your game must be your own - unique and tailored to champion your most beloved personal traits. For example, when I'm conversating with an attractive woman, I'm barely even thinking about her dumbass. I'm too busy thinking only of my game, only of my charm and wit, and only of the Rolex on my wrist, sparkling so brightly she can't help but notice, I'm sure. Indeed, my game comes from the heart and it comes with much flare. I quote lines from timeless American literature, such as Carl Van Vechten's 1926,
"N*gger Heaven," and immediately she notes my cultured education. I relate to these women and find common ground through poetry recitation, whispering into their ears the sweet nothings of
"A fully developed young woman; That size; Makes it difficult; To caress her breasts." from Seidel's classic poem entitled 'Venus.' Women love poety, and women love doctors. Mostly the dimes. The show-stoppers. The knockouts. The ones entirely out of your league, who giggle and snicker with their girlfriends when spotting you and your clumsy looking consort. Those are the types I enjoy intercourse with, you see.
Of course, I'm not your average man, and thus my standards are well beyond anything you AFCs could even begin to dream of. How is it so, you ask? I'm built like a fvcking Ox, that's how, and I'll eat your fvcking babies if I choose so, right after I screw your wife's asspipe and pimpsmack your mama into submission. And you'll thank me repeatedly for it, while bowing subserviently under my towering, terrifying stance - mindful of what Dr. Playboy's formidable, massive physique could inflict upon you at any moment of his choosing. And once I feel you've groveled long enough, and once I've had my way with every single female in sight, I'll plant myself on your couch, throw on a tasteful piece by Handel, and read some of Machiavelli's
"The Prince" for an hour or two,
while your 14 year old daughter, no longer pure, massages each of my massive glutes to my satisfaction.
Such is life, when
The InterwebPlayboy Dathing Method™ is properly applied. Some of you are probably in disbelief. Some of you probably think I'm lying. And some of you are probably virgins. The truth is, The Playboy Method™ cannot be fully incorporated into one's life until they look themselves in the mirror and say,
"Everything I've ever done in my life up to this point as been utter shiit, but so what? From this day forth, I will change my thoughts on life, I will change my thoughts on women, and I will change my thoughts on God. Because I'm good enough, because I'm smart enough, and because I deserve it! But mostly because Dr. Playboy's smarter and better looking than anyone I know, and he suggested that I do so."
And sure, I may be better than you in every conceivable way, but I'll never treat an AFC any differently than that blonde bombshell from last friday - the one I loaded up with roofies, slammed bareback thrice over, and quickly planted my illegal amphetamines on, just as the law pulled up.
A fine weekend it was, though somewhat typical by the Method's standards.
Signed,
Playboy, The