Sven Lyndon's No Nonsense Guide to Dating

Listeners,

There is no doubt that I am absolutely chock full with game. Read.

Women love nothing more than to be the center of attention, so what better way to seduce them than to make them the complete center of *your* attention. I have a little motto that goes like this: "If I've got time to eat, sleep, and poop; I've got time to watch you from the bushes (which you have so generously neglected to trim) outside of your house during your most intimate moments." Careful surveillance is a victimless crime as long as you never get caught, so to all the amateurs out there: leave the watching to the professionals.

You had better believe I Facebook. Its the stalking of the future. Instead of manually watching from the overgrown bushes, the girls do all the work. I have several accounts all for watching different types of girls.

One is "Bad Boy" Sven Lyndon, what with me drinking and smoking all the time. Sexy as hell. If there is one thing women love more than being the center of attention, it is being miserable. That is why they flock to "Bad Boy" Sven Lyndon. They know he can take them out, hit on other women, forget birthdays, and leave his wallet at home like no one else can. This profile consists mainly of bad ass quotes from the band Avenged Sevenfold and pictures of me passed out drunk. Wait did I wet my pants in that last pic? Better tag it more than once. Women to flock to this one because they had fathers who skipped the dance recital to watch their son's football game. The lack of a scheduling conflict between the two events is a moot point.

Another profile is "Hipster, I've got good taste in music" Sven Lyndon. He only listens to unsigned bands like Her Space Holiday, Say Hi, The Secret Handshake and Playradioplay!. What a hopelessly romantic pussy. On this profile, I have also mastered the "I-Like Challenge." For those of you who don't know: the "I-Like Challenge" is a test of musical knowledge. You are played a sample of a song, and then must identify the name, band, producer, ect. A correct response nets you one point. I have amassed more than 15,000 points, thanks to countless hours spent playing because my true musical knowledge/interest is minimal. Not only does the score confirm how into music I am, it puts me on a leader board that they look at every time they log into the I-Like Challenge. SO their typical day goes a little something like this:

"Oh man, I am so hot and bored. Perhaps I should test my musical knowledge. Holy cow Sven is at the top of the list he must know so much about music, I guess I will look at his profile too. Oh MY! look at all these bands that I have never heard of, they must be good if they are endorsed by a man with over 15,000 I-Like Challenge points."

Needless to say this account gets the least action for reasons addressed in the previous paragraph, mostly the ones about women loving bad asses.

The final profile is "Not really down with Facebook but still on Facebook" Sven Lyndon. Yes he has a Facebook account. But is there any information in it? No. This is the one who is too damn cool for school. Does he immediately confirm friend requests? HELL NO! He's too cool to be on Facebook any more than once or twice a fortnight. The advent of the Facebook chat feature has nearly crippled this account. Now I cannot log on until the absolute dead time that occurs between 4 am to 5 am. Any sooner, and my potential honeys will see I am on Facebook and therefore not too cool for it, ruining any chances of fornication.

Now you may be wondering: "Sven, how do I get these beautiful women to 'Friend' me?"

And I answer: "Friendo, we live in a world where date rape has become so common and prevalent that it is seldom reported. Most women have been lulled into such a deep, false sense of security they will 'Friend' anyone. This is symptomatic of a pervasive fear of offending the guy they blacked out meeting the previous night, and thereby passing up potential male attention. The catalyst in this magnificent reaction is none other than her father's parenting strategy of consummate absenteeism."

Now that you know all the basics: favorite music, favorite movies, bed time, job, route to work, potential distractions (any and all other men), and how closely she watches her drinks; it is time to move. But not so fast, read on Listener.

T is for Tasteful Digression: You can't lead off a conversation with your target by saying something like "Oh, I noticed you usually get into bed at about 10:30pm on the weekdays." Also NEVER and I mean NEVER mention anything regarding her keeping the company of other men. All sluts hate it when you call them a slut. Both of those moves are the calling cards of a hopeless amateur. Instead guide the conversation gently by mentioning the the opposite of something she likes making a point to verbalize your distaste for said something. An example:

Polly has a Facebook profile dominated by Red Sox clubs.

You say: "Man, I hate the Yankees. What a bunch of phonies. I hope they get into a plane crash in the mountains where the survivors are forced to eat their teammates until they are rescued. But the rescue team never comes."

Polly says: "OMG like totally! I LOVE the Red Sox"

At this point in the conversation, any and all of your views on baseball are to be forsaken. You agree that the Red Sox are great. They did not have horrible seasons between 1947 and 1959 because they were the last team to racially integrate. While Manny Ramirez was on on the team and David "Big Papi" Ortiz could hit: their two most sharply criticized players were definitely not people of color. Any small nugget of information you can throw into the conversation will only get you further into bed with her. Might I suggest talking about Big Papi.

What is important to take note of is that NO WHERE in the conversation did you bring up anything found in her Facebook profile. Through simple obfuscation of information, you guided her, and she volunteered to tell you about her love of the Red Sox. This is KEY. Yes you already knew she loved the Red Sox, but you need to launder the facebook information: make it legitimate in the real world. Again, yes in a perfect world we would have our mates chosen by a computer. An efficient process that would eliminate the unnecessary parts of the mating process which include but are not limited to: talking, dating, kissing on the lips, not referring to sex as "intercourse", and taking my socks off during intercourse. Women are driven by emotion and need to feel like they have something in common with their potential man so you need to lie and pretend you do.

As stated in the former paragraph: women are driven by emotion. Now it is up to you to take the wheel. Women, while being driven by emotion, constantly make the jump between two unrelated emotions. It happens every day for reasons that span the gambit of a death in the family to a light breeze. Keeping this in mind, we will make a move similar to the "Red Sox Case Study" above. You simply start her off with any one emotion, and then switch it with love. Simple. A case study:

The emotion I have found most effective to kick things off with is fear. Most girls are scared of a lot of shit, so it is easy enough to get some of that going. I go to her house at night, while she is asleep. I have already procured 200 vampire bats. No the vampire bats will not harm her, they hardly prey on humans as it is, and given the frenzied state they are about to be in, preying on humans will be on the bottom of their to-do list. SO, the bats have already been dosed with chloroform and put into ten sacks of twenty. I easily bypass the single tumbler lock on her back door and spread the bats throughout the residence. With the bats spread about, I wait 10 to 20 minutes for the chemicals to wear off. I want them bright eyed and bushy-tailed for the next step. I need to generate enough noise to wake her up and simultaneously startle the bats. I use a fire horn, it is the horn from a fire truck, cost effective and close to 190 decibels (enough to make an airplane landing seem like a baby's yawn). Triggering the horn wakes her and begins the hell storm of vampire bats, for a moment she will think she is having a nightmare. After a foolish attempt to wake up, she will wish it was a nightmare, and then for death. Left with no other recourse, she will run into the arms of her savior. That's me. Sly as hell. In the front yard, far away from the fire horn, I don't want her to put two and two together.

At this point all I have to do is enjoy the ride. I saved her from the bats. But wait how did the bats get there? When the police check out the crime scene they will realize that they were vampire bats and put out an A.P.B. (all points bulletin) for Dracula.

-S.L