Amusing Mistunderstanding
A guy once came up to me on the dancefloor in a club and started talking. I didn't fancy the look of him so straight off I just said, "Sorry, I've got a boyfriend".

There was a pause while he looked at me with anger and disgust, and then he went, "I SAID, do you want to join our conga line!!"
(ne0n, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 14:29, 5 replies)

In wolvertrampton
where I was born and raised, the is a magically rock club called Planet. Wolverhampton's a scruff hole if you've been, but I felt rather comfortable here being a big indie bum at the time.

With my mate in tow (I'm a guy but I would turn for him, he is a sexy pie ), we head off to Planet with the many pints of sweet, watered down, tramp piss cider and WKD. He proceeds off to the dance floor to mosh about a bit, (he loved all that I can't dance for beans), and I sit there laughing at him and watching the other revellers.

I should have stopped drinking waaayy before I did but I persisted in chasing the pink dragon and got to the point of sickness drunk, and promptly ran to the toilets to throw my insides out.

After the bouncer came in and checked that I wouldn't implode, I went back to the table to recover.

A beautiful blonde girl then walks up to (BTW i'm shite at talking to girls in any situation, let alone chat them up), and asks me to dance. I look at her wearily and say that I would but I have just thrown up my own body weight in fluid.

Looking a little down she looks at me t-shirt (a backwards written Franz Ferdinand Tee) and says she loves them, just in case the sick thing was a ploy to fob her off!!

I say no again (DICK!) and continue to try and sober myself up. A few hours later i realise the volume of my idiocy and hunt her down....as the club closes, she gives me a hug says she will be back there next week, same time.

she wasn't and I never went back

Never ever drink in clubs, just hope they have and talk to you first so you can be smooth :)
(Dragonpity, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 14:06, 7 replies)

Snobs in Birmingham
In the summer between end of 6th form and start of university me and my mates went to Snobs weekly but never plucked up the courage to even try to pull, no matter how much dutch courage we drank. The aftermath would include a trip to Top Nosh, the local chippery, and commiserating to each other afterwards (I seem to remember most of the girls we were after were ugly anyway).

In conclusion, good times. Good, character forming times.

EDIT: For those who don't know, Snobs is a seedy rock/indie nightclub in Birmingham whose bouncers let pretty much anyone in.
(welshyboy, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 12:57, 6 replies)

Last one..honest..
I've probably bored you enough, but as I apparently look like Stephen Dorff with a broken nose I'll sign off with this.

Aforementioned nose has often got me a bit (lot) of grief with both same and fairer sex, my pulling has been a bit hit and miss (in the face, no sniggering at the back), but suffice to say some women can get past the nose to see I am quite good looking in a good light.

Therefore, at a house party in Las Vegas I was once approached by a porn starlet whose website I had created via a friend of hers. I believe they call them 'Pimps' for some reason.

~Anyhoo, on one such occasion I happened to be in a hot tub with her and her friends. I'd had way too much of....things...so decided to ask her if she'd like to go out.

I'll never forget her reply - I've been waiting ages for you to ask me, but always thought you were too shy because of your nose.

Man was I confident after that.
(Galahad is out of his gourd on yellow bentines, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 12:34, 6 replies)

I need a woman
Any takers?
(spinks its only kinky the first time, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 12:12, 5 replies)

I think my best score was a multi-millionairre asking me out to a party in Las Vegas (I live in London, UK).
I said that's a lovely idea, but no, I'm afraid I can't.

Four days later plane tickets arrived, along with instructions on what limo would pick us up, what hotel we were booked into, and what account number to book everything to.

Which was nice.

True story.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 11:22, 12 replies)

dumped
I’ve never known my best friend to have a girlfriend but back when he was 14 and staying on a caravan site at the weekend with his parents he went out with a girl called Girl. I have no idea how they got together (I’m imagining some pushing on her behalf) but I think he ended it in the most genius way.

By getting his mate to jump out at her from behind a bush and yell; ‘YOU’RE DUMPED’.
(ignoramusaurus, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 11:07, Reply)

housemate
This is the first time since I’ve joined where I could actually have a best of. BEFORE YOU GET ALL ANGRY I AM NOT SAYING THIS IS A BEST OF, HENCE THE SENTENCE AT THE END OF THIS PARAGRAPH. I am no stranger to the bizarre chat up. I think this is because I have red hair and most people think it's strange that they might want to chat me up. I’ve left it to the last minute so I'm going to go with the housemate.
This is a cautionary tale, not a hilarious anecdote.

The housemate was Rich. That is his actual name, if he did read this, he’d know it was him anyway.

At the time I was living in a big house with 5 girls and 25 boys (good odds I know). When I first met Rich he was going through a stage of almost constantly holding hands with a girl who was going out with the nearest thing to a jock this side of the Atlantic (if you've heard of Leeds Carnegie, you know). This was obviously much fun for whoever was around them and finished pretty quickly. No doubt for the aforementioned reason of her boyfriend being a sportsman and Rich being - a cyclist.

He was relentless and rubbish. The first time I can remember him trying it on with me was when I had my then boyfriend round – we’d been shut inside my room for about 48 hours by this time when a letter arrives underneath my door. A love letter. Well almost, a 2 page letter about how amazing I was (He was one of those kind of guys) and if he was a better person he’d be in love me but he wasn’t . The next time I can remember was walking home after a nightclub and him telling me that I was ‘the third greatest girl’ he’d ever met.

It might have been a bit much to get offended by this – I was an often pissed up 17 year old who figured that if your housemate was going to be constantly trying it on with you, he could at least try not to be diplomatic about it. He ended up falling out with me in our second year of living together because he felt I spent to much time with one of our female housemates. So an awkward few months living in a 6 bedroom house where there were enough romantic links for it to be like Friends would have been if it was real.

In summary: if you're asking someone out, go all out.
(ignoramusaurus, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 11:01, 22 replies)

Horsey Girl
When I was the grand old age of 12 I asked out Karen. She was a whole 2 years above me but with her big brown eyes and long dark hair I just had to try and woo her.

Summoning all the courage a small white twiglet of a boy could muster I approached her in the corridor one 'wet playtime' (oh yeah!) when we weren't allowed onto the fields.

Me: "Will you got out with me?"

K: "I have a boyfriend....." I turned to walk away, deflated...."but yeah OK".

I turned back and smiled...thinking "Wow, not only have I pulled a girl two years my senior, but she is dumping her boyfriend for me!"

Sensing my inner thoughts, she soon set my confusion straight. She was to be my girlfriend during the week, but on weekends she was Scott's, as he also went horseriding and, well, hey it made sense right? WRONG!

However, I still had essentially got an older 'woman' and since on weekends I played football, this was probably my first experience of having a 'fuck buddy'. Only instead of fucking we sometimes had a quick kiss. A 'Kiss Buddy' - woooohoo!

It didn't last long, even at that age boys get a bit jealous and I heard she was now not only borrowing his rough-neck Snoopy and Woodstock flask on occasions, but occasionally meeting after school during the week. And that was MY time. (Despite not having the inclination or ability to bike the 10 miles to her house each night).

And so sadly it ended as it started, during a 'wet playtime' in the corridor.

I can only imagine the filth Karen, with a love for 2 men at once and horses has got up to since.

Apologies for length: Her horse was jealous also.
(Galahad is out of his gourd on yellow bentines, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 10:19, 2 replies)

No chat up line, just taking a risk and being honest has worked for me.
I think I have posted before that I set up a small company about 18 months ago. I tend to use freelancers to help me deliver client projects and a few weeks ago I interviewed a someone to work with me as an Account Director up until we close the office for Christmas. (I should add at this point that I hired her purely on merit to ensure the work for the client was done as well as it could be).

A few days later R (for that is her first initial) started working on the project. Some banter took place which could have been perceived as mild flirting and at the end of her first day we went for a quick drink at her suggestion. Second day, slightly increased level of banter, increased level of confusion for me – I knew I was (am) attracted to her and didn’t know if R felt the same or if bantering, being tactile etc was just her style. As the week went on I started to think I was going to have to say something – the other couple of people working with me had definitely noticed a change in the office atmosphere.

To be honest I felt a level of anxiety about saying anything in case I had got things badly wrong. All I could think was is this a good idea? Probably not. Could cause various problems – with the recruiter that introduced us, with the client (because if R buggered off then the project would be delivered late).
So on the Friday we went for a drink after work. Then a second drink, then a third. So after three pints of Aspells on an empty stomach I took a risk and said something along the lines of “look, I’m not sure I should be saying this but I’m attracted to you and I think you might be to me”.
She kissed me. I kissed her and things progressed from there. Brilliant.
Without wanting to sound smug – she’s very, very smart, has me in fits of laughter and I think she’s gorgeous. We’re planning a few days away together in January and I can’t wait.

So don’t rely on cheesy lines and just be honest and take a risk!
(lkjshaglkasjdhglkhjz lkcvl; g;aodh;owih, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 9:59, 2 replies)

How do you get a fat bird into bed?
Piece of cake!
(Beelzebub's Ball Bag is pleasuring your wife on, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 9:31, 3 replies)

Rakky’s guide to asking someone out
And believe me, this hasn’t failed me yet.

1. Select object of your desires. It is important that he, whilst seeming normal and well balanced have some fundamental flaw rendering him totally inaccessible, for example, having a really possessive girlfriend, or having been thoroughly screwed over in his last relationship. EDIT. Or gay.
2. Make friends with aforementioned object.
3. Develop painful, overwhelming passionate crush.
4. Bore friends with crush for 6-8 months.
5. Get drunk and finally admit to object of desires that you’re desperately, hopelessly besotted with them and ask will they go out with you.
6. Publically, react stoically and calmly when they say no. In private, cry till you dehydrate.
7. Wait five years.
8. Repeat steps 1 through 7.
9. After 3-4 iterations, admit defeat, adopt 14 cats and consign yourself to being the mad woman with egg on her cardigan who lives at the end of the street and shouts at children.


By my reckoning I’m on my third iteration, about to enter stage 6. Any b3tards who wish to accompany me to the cat shelter will be welcome.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 9:07, 26 replies)

Sarah.
She was adorable. Cute, fun, funny, smart, and we'd been solid friends for ages.

I'd started having... amorous thoughts about Sarah a couple of months earlier. She'd moved schools earlier that year, and I was crushed at the time. But we still saw each other in the park and the like (we were about nine). I was a nerdy child, unathletic, too interested in computers for my own good, utterly indifferent to The Rugby (grounds for execution in New Zealand); there was no way I'd have enough confidence to ask Sarah out.

Then she asked me out. In the park, in the fading sunset. To a school dance. It was a wonderful moment, the object of my adoration opening her heart to me under a fire-tinged sky.

Later, when I told my father that I'd muttered something about the rugby being on and run away, he groaned, and his head made a solid thump on the dinner table.
(Scritty Bakerman., Tue 15 Dec 2009, 7:20, Reply)

Penny of the Legs.
Well that was what we called her. Walking back through uni to our residential colleges, after a pleasant afternoon and evening at the tav. She lived in the next college over.

We were chatting. I was on a roll, things were working. I worked up the courage.

'Want to come up to mine?'

PofL - 'No thanks, I'm fine' and she walks off.

Rejected....

The thing that really made it worse is that was a dream. I got rejected in my own friggin dream... sigh...
(tuppyholeman, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 6:49, Reply)

This hasn't failed me yet.
i) Look for your ex-girlfriend from about 15 years or so on the internet.

ii) Having failed to find her, try and get on a reality show which re-introduces people to their exes.

iii) When they can't find her either, look up everyone in the state with her name, and write to them.

iv) When walking back from the post box last night, feel like a bit of a sad act.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 5:54, Reply)

Not asking out...
But a total failure at being asked out.
Now I myself have never ever chatted up a girl due to my lack of confidence and meek nature. My 'technique' involves a high degree of chance and alot of waiting. If word gets around that a girl I like or get to know through other friends etc likes me, then I go in to full blissfully unaware/friendly male mode, but while still flirting and dropping subtle hints and after a few weeks/months it either peters out and comes to nothing, or the suspense becomes too much for them that they fling themselves at me through sheer frustration.
The advantage of this technique is that the successes tend to be intense and passionate (if not shortlived) and it pretty much eliminates the margin for embarassment. But you do end up going through long dry spells...

Anyway, on to the story...
Cardiff a few years ago, shortly before I got together with my current long term girlfriend. I was out with friends at the now sadly defunct Point venue in the bay. Pretty much a lads night out with no intention of trying anything on with the opposite sex, as it goes against my said 'technique'.
After having consumed more than my fair share of beverages, amongst other things, I was happily sat to the side of the dancefloor taking the lights, people and music in with my friends.
All of a sudden I sight a girl strolling right up to me, I can't remember what she looked like but I remember my loins approved. She straddled me and placed herself on my lap, facing me.
'Hi there'
'Oh...hello' I said bemused.
'I'm having a bit of trouble with my top. Can you...?'
She looks down at her corset and the laces at the front are slightly, neatly undone. Now for many red blooded males this situation would have ended right there with a meeting of the tongues. But for me in my condition and complete inability to grasp the sub-text?
'Uhhh...oh right. I'll see what I can do'
Her bosom right in front of me, I observe for a moment. Then proceed to attempt to re-tie the laces in my extemely inebriated state.
Eventually after much fumbling, I come to the conclusion that my hand to eye co-ordination is not up to the job. I look her in the eyes and smile apologetically...
'I'm sorry, I'm far too drunk. But my friend over there will be able to help you i'm sure'
My friend gives me a look of confusion, surprise and eagerness. The girl was pretty dumbfounded too, if not a little insulted i'm sure.
She gently thrust her chest closer to me, pushing me back in the chair, but there I was with the same moronic, apologetic grin on my face. The girl looks over to my friend, who shrugs and chuckles a bit. Then she gets up and wanders off to her group of friends.
'What a nice girl' I think to myself.

When I had sobered up a little later and the whole thing dawned on me I tried to track the girl down (after maybe the greatest facepalming of my life and much mockery from my friends). But she was nowhere to be found.
But not all was lost! A few weeks later my current girlfriend and I got together and have been happy ever since. I just pray i'm never single again so things like that don't happen...
(Megamoss, Tue 15 Dec 2009, 3:58, 3 replies)

Pity
I asked her out because she said she was likely to die of heart failure before she turned 20. Such a pity: even the dying should be able to party, at least a little bit!

Once into the party, however she mercilessly dumped me and took up with a football player. Humiliating. Like they say, a wounded bitch is the most dangerous kind!
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 23:23, Reply)

My most and least successful...
I'm not normally good at making the move. I can very happily chat to a girl, be charming, etc, but to actually move it on to the next step, very hard. As I now have an amazingly beautiful, lovely girlfriend (who I really don't deserve) it doesn't matter anymore but here are my most successful and least successful moves:

Most:
Walking outside a bar in my Fresher year, turning to the girl next to me at the door who I had never seen before and say (in a very pissed state) "What you doin now?"
"um...heading home"
"come home with me."
"um... ok"

Least:
There was a girl in my drama group who I really liked, she was stunning but was also such a great person. She, however, had a boyfriend (who despite punching far above his weight for some reason or nother had cheated on her). Anyway, one night we shared a taxi back after a night at the union and she invited me in for coffee. Because of her boyfriend I assumed it was all above board and friendly. Even when she asked me for a massage (I'm well-known for giving good ones) I still thought it was nothing but a frindly gesture. Finally I got up to leave when she said "you can stay if you like..."
"Nah, I just live across the room, much better then a sofa!"

I was half way across the road when it dawned why she had given me a look of disappointment mixed with confusion. To make matters worse I couldn't even bring myself to go back to her house!

I still cringe when I think about it....
(ab1kenobe, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 22:35, 1 reply)

Being an Ex-Pat helps
Well, I'm not exactly beating the fairer sex away with a shitty stick, but I do alright for myself.

I'm presently living abroad, so going out and about here, I'm constantly told "OOoh, that accent is lovely" and "You sound very proper".

Both of which make me laugh like a drain as I'm from Notts, not an area associated with poshness.

I've received everything from a casual snog to full on nights of debauchery that would make Crowley blush..

So, chatting up women? Just move abroad, and you'll at least be somewhat interesting due to your foreign-ness.

Length has never been a problem.
(wuckfit Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori., Mon 14 Dec 2009, 22:33, 8 replies)

Stevo
I've known Stevo for years. A perfectly nice chap, but calling him stupid would be like describing Usain Bolt as being fairly quick on his feet. Stevo's distinct lack of any discernible intelligence and his utterly credulous nature have always been a rich source of entertainment. However, we (his friends) try not to take the piss too much these days because we're sensible grown-ups and above all that...

Most of the time, though, it happens completely by accident. Of relevance to this week's QOTW a mutual friend, Sarah (lots of fun, pretty, very cheeky, yes I have), was recounting her previous night's escapades to Stevo and myself. These had culminated in a blizzard of plaster falling from her downstairs neighbour's ceiling thanks to the enthusiastic attentions of the nice young man she had managed to snare in the student's union. Her chat-up line, so she informed us, was the classic: (points to bloke's face) "Is anyone sitting there?"

We laughed and conversation moved on.

Next time in the union, Stevo and I were chatting (or drunkenly shouting nonsense at each other) at the bar when he interrupted our conversation, leaned across to a girl who had just been served and pointed to her face...

I tried to explain what had gone wrong to him as he dried himself off in the gents.
(Dr. Scambolic, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 22:12, 2 replies)

I've always been a fan
of 'the lunge', should someone be showing signs of interest and listening to my talk, though that has got me into far more trouble than I should have been in, usually involving mentalists or swingers, but the best, the absolute best was not used by me but on me...

'Hold my satsuma I'm off for a dance, I'll be back for you in a minute'. I stood there with a satsuma for the duration watching her dance, before later on being shouted at by residents of a world famous landmark as we bumped uglies in the middle.
( Jimbuktu See? Right here, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 21:33, Reply)

Not me, but my friend Pete
is the master of the chat-up lines:

Pete: "Your eyes are as blue as the ocean, and I'm lost at sea."
Girl: "My eyes are brown!"

Pete: "I may not be the best looking guy in the bar, but I'm the only one talkin' to you"
Girl: "I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, John."

And the coup de grace / best line ever:

Pete: "If I'd have known you were going to be here, I'd have worn my tight jeans."

Funny... not one of these got him laid.
( kingoffools, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 21:29, Reply)

Aha!
This is a first. Usually I see a qotw and think "Ah I have some answers I can put" or "Bugger I've no stories about that to tell", but for the first time I'll be taking notes and learning from the massive wealth of tips here.

I'm bloody useless at asking people out. Completely useless. I met a lass when I was the tender age of fifteen and was with her until I was twenty seven, so when everyone else was learning the intricacies of speaking to the opposite sex, I was fine-tuning my arguing skills. To be fair, after all the shite I went through I was pretty much happy to be on my lonesome for a good while, but these days I'm starting to feel the itch again and have realised recently how completely clueless I am.

My icebreakers are useless for a start. Attempts have ranged from "Hiya. Where you from?" to "Don't eat the fish!" (apparently, I have no memory of that one. I have to hand it to drunken me, he's creative.)

My personal best was while being squashed against the bar by a surging crowd in Buffalo Joe's in Glasgow a few year back. I turned to the girl next to me and said "Oooft, I've not felt like this since I was in the jail!"

Class act all the way. I'm getting better, but not much.

I can only aspire to the prowess of the guy who sat next to me at registration in fourth year. One day, we arrived at class to find a new girl sitting directly in front of me. She was a stunner. Within ten seconds he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Wanna go out with me?"

She replied "no".

"How no'?"

"Because I don't know you."

"I'm Barry, wanna go out with me?"

A master at such a young age.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 20:59, 2 replies)

Catch a goat you've pulled...
...and apparently they fall into bed.

I've just popped my b3ta cherry. I feel so dirty.
(ukraine space monkey, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 20:34, 4 replies)

My sister was a barmaid for a while.
She claimed this line was a winner.

Shall I hang around till closing time or should I just fuck off now?

PS - Don't get this the wrong way round. (Think about it)
(schrodingers cat now you see me, or not, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 19:15, 3 replies)

By golly I'm manly, me.
I don’t lack self-confidence, but I’ve got this irrational fear that if I try to chat someone up that I’d come across as a bit seedy.

It’s a bit stupid really, I couldn’t walk up to a girl and chat her up as she’d know I was chatting her up as I fancied her and wouldn’t mind hanging out of her and that wouldn’t do. I’d look like a right perv. Even though I did fancy her and I did want to sleep with her, that’s why I was contemplating chatting her up in the first place.

This also leads me to having some unmanly reactions when I’m approached by a girl.

A girl came up to me in the pub and told me I was gorgeous (I am, yep). I responded by being confused and asking her if she was on a hen night, as I hadn’t shaved for a few days and figured she was doing one of those checklists things where she needed to kiss a bloke with a beard or something.
Not that I actually had a beard, just stubble, but that seemed a logical enough reason for me to ask.

Another time in a nightclub I was stood near the DJ booth next to the dance floor waiting for my friends to get back from the bar when this group of girls walked towards me from the dance floor.
This in it’s self made me nervous, and then I realised that I probably looked like I was stood there for the footfall on the way to the dance floor. So I got embarrassed and stared at the floor. On the way passed one of the girls pinched my cheek and gave it a shake and said "bless" before walking off. Weeps! The shame!

This missus likes it though, she says I was so bad at chatting her up and took so long to ask her out that she doesn’t have to worry about me straying. Not that I would anyway. I know when I’m on to a winner.
( Dervel OTBC, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 16:59, 4 replies)

A chat up line used on me
This gave me quite a confidence boost as you can imagine.

Him: "You don't sweat much for a fat lass!!"
Me: "I'm not a lass I'm a bloke".
Him: "Oh sorry".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 16:45, 2 replies)

An observation
is that if someone is attractive they can say more or less what they like in order to chat someone up, whereas if they are ugly it makes no damned difference.

Hence a girl at work saying of the company looker: "oh my God when you talk to him, its like he is undressing you with his eyes! He's so sexy".
And saying of someone butt ugly (not me for once): "oh my God, his weird rapey eyes, its like he is mentally undressing you. I should report him to HR".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 16:37, 6 replies)

How to pull: A fuckwits guide
During my years of borderline alcoholism, I’ve encountered a number of chat up lines that can be grouped into a few disparate categories. Here’s a few I can be arsed to recall:

Intelligence
Coming from Coventry this was a technique I didn’t see firsthand before I went to University. Pretty straightforward; you’re average run-of-the-mill bloke tries to trick some random girl into thinking he’s got the frightening intellect of Plato, Stephen Hawking, and that Jean Luc Picard when he’s in the X-Men all wrapped into one. Apparently if you come across as super-brainy, those knickers will just melt away like rice paper as they react with the gushing lady juices.
The main drawback of this approach is that the only fellas who could claim to actually possess a thunderously stonking intellect are actually locked away in a room somewhere reading books and doing hard maths. Those fuckwits who are actually out on the pull are not – in point of fact – super geniuses.
Best Intelligence related chat up line I heard: “Cows have got four stomachs, impressive, ehh? Can I buy you a drink? NO!?! Are you sure? OK, in that case can I buy your mate a drink – did you know that cows have got four stomachs?” Needless to say that particular mate went home alone. Knowledge of bovine anatomy does not, as it turns out, guarantee pussy – who’d have thought, ehh?

Manly Man Man
Some people avoid the two golden rules when it comes to hitting people: one, always pick on someone smaller than you, preferably sporting some kind of physical disability or impairment (the wheelchair bound are an absolute walk over). Two: avoid fisticuffs with ‘the mentalists’. Those mad fuckers can call upon superhuman strength, Incredible Hulk style, and probably wouldn’t bat an eyelid before they’ve ripped out your testicles to playing the fuckers like a set of soggy maracas before your eyes, with your screams of agony acting as a counterpoint to the samba rhythm.
But some men, when in close proximity to fur burger, actually view the fine and ancient art of twatting someone as an aide to pulling. They’ll suddenly come on all Steven Segal and Hulk Hogan, literally go Rambo-to-the-extreme on someone’s ass in the hope of attracting some minge. Obviously, this is a flimsy pretext to hide their latent homosexual tendencies, but I’m fucked if I’m going to tell them this. Apparently some ladies – according to these Neanderthals in Abercrombie & Fitch shirts, drenched in enough Hugo Boss to suffocate an army of small horses, actually believe being a manly man man, having a good old fashioned punch up, will end in a splashy ejaculation at the cervix of some munter.
Best Manly Man Man Chat Up Line Contender: “See these guns?” stroking his tree trunk sized biceps. “These have personally destroyed a whole carriage full of Crystal Palace supporters...” I presume this upstanding denizen of society was a follower of Millwall... Either way it worked for him as moments later he’d taken the girl to a quiet sofa area at the back of the club so he could very lovingly and tenderly finger fuck her with the skill and dexterity of an out of control piston engine on a rampage. Of course, the girl was uglier than one of those deep-sea angling fish, mind, but he’s the man who’d be offering the smell of fresh, sweaty quim to his mates several minutes later and the kudos this bestowed. The rest of us had to settle for the usual finger smell of Marlborough lights and stale piss instead...

Pity
For those of us lacking in wit, charm, good lucks, or a cock that should be swinging on the rear end of a horny rhinoceros, we have this tried and tested means of obtaining a positive result from any potential flirt-and-squirt encounter. Pity. The premise works like this: Make her feel sorry for you. If you make her feel sorry for you she is absolutely guaranteed to let you have a go bashing away at her innards. She’ll let you do this as she is a humanitarian. Its charity work for her. She’ll be left feeling like some kind of slutty Mother Teresa figure, and you’ll have come – you’re both happy.
Best pity chat up line I’ve encountered (Ian you know who you are): “I never knew who my mum and dad were... Yeah, ‘s sad innit?” Rueful shake of the head. “But you know what – I’ve never been able to tell anyone about this before. You know, I think we might have some kind of a connection. Sorry if that freaks you out a bit.” Now at this point this tactic actually seemed to be working. Very fucking weird. The girl started leaning into Ian, she looked genuinely impressed that my mate had chosen her to spill his beans (prior to spilling beans of a different kind) to. But Ian being Ian, he had to go and fuck it up: “I’ve only got a ten pound note on me – d’you have any change for the condom machine? They’ve got one in the toilets in here, I know, I’ve been here before...”

The Comedy Line
Apparently making a girl laugh means she’s more likely to fuck you. This is, of course, absolute bollocks. But you can actually have a bit of fun feeding lines to your mates in the hope that they’ll say something so horrendously offensive to a complete stranger they’ll end up losing their ability to father children in the future.
One that spring to mind was when my mate Dan, upon seeing a girl I vaguely knew, asked me for a decent opening line. I noticed she was wearing blue, predominantly. Some sort of ethnic material trouser things that made her look like one of those hot science birds off of Time Team. I fed Dan the line, he didn’t think much of it. I explained the line, that this girl would love it if you paid her a compliment on her ‘kooky’ fashion sense. Dan went scuttling off. I watched from a distance as he repeated the line. I watched from a distance as Dan received a slap round the face. I started pissing myself as he returned, crestfallen.

“What the fuck went wrong there?” he enquired.

“That Sarah knows her smut, mate. You just asked her if she likes kneeling on the floor while a shitload of horny Japanese dudes shoot their load in her face. As a rule, that's a bit of a non-starter, mate.”

“Ehh???" said Dan, "‘Do you wear blue khaki often, it looks good on you?’” Then he stopped, thought about it, “You utter, utter, BASTARD!!!”


Chat up lines: Stopped using them after I hit puberty. Just have a nice little chat, and try your hardest to convince the girl you’re a nice, decent, wonderful, amazing, witty, intelligent, manly man man (and if you can slip into the conversation somewhere you struggle to fit an empty pint glass over your erect cock, what harm could that possibly do?).
( SpankyHanky, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 16:26, 5 replies)

I have some huge scars on my legs
But my legs are hairy so you can't see them. So I decided the best way to impress a girl with my manly scars was to shave my legs with her razor. it didn't work.
( Peej, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 16:15, 4 replies)