Flirting takes many forms. Some people flutter their eyelids and let their natural good looks do the rest. Others get drunk and strut their funky stuff in the disco.
But today’s human male has gone further still. He’s created a flirting technique. The problem? It often sends him to jail. Let’s help him out!
Hi PM. Okay… here goes… I know I’m not the best looking geezer out there. Average looks. Average height. But I have a steady job as a manager at a fast food chain in Bolton and think I’m a good catch! But, man, the babes were always passing me up. I tried all them chat up lines. “Get your coat love, you’ve pulled!” etc. Got me nowhere. Then one night when I was out on the lash with me mates Dave, Dave, Dave, and Dave, I had a spark of genius. I saw this babe on the dancefloor and I downed my pint for luck, then charged at her. I play rugby at the weekends so figured a good way to get her attention was slam into her at speed and tackle her down onto the ground. Display of macho strength and all that. Anyway, she ended up in hospital with a shattered collarbone and the bouncers all seized me and called the cops. I didn’t get the babe’s number and got a warning from the pigs. But I figured I’d keep trying the technique. So did it a few more times last week. One of me colleagues is dead fit. So at lunch we was out back talking about Game of Thrones, then I charged her. She screamed and we slammed into the concrete floor. So she cracked a load of ribs and I got a concussion. I just explained it as, “Look, babe, I was just trying to get your number!” She’s filing an employment tribunal at me for gross misconduct. Stupid bint. Anyway, I tried again yesterday with this smoking hot older woman in Manchester. She looked about 50 but even from 10 yards off I were in love. So I got a good run up with this one. I started sprinting and roaring as loud as I could. She looked pretty terrified and dropped her handbag and began running away. Anyway, long story short—slam! Down into the ground we went. She went a bit pale and I went, “Y’oreet, love? Fancy a pint?” She got up kicked me in the bollocks and I were rolling around on the floor in agony when the pigs turned up. I’m thinking of trying it out again over the weekend. What do you reckon? Ta, Dave
Hello, Dave. It’s advisable you don’t use rugby tackles as a means of flirtation. It’s generally not a good idea to instil terror into a potential mate.
Our esteemed editor, Mr. Wapojif, knows this first hand. In 2017 he began a business involving speed dating and chainsaws.
The idea was to move from one date to the next and judge them on their chainsaw revving abilities and overall craziness rating.
After the first night there were several fatalities and the business, “Get Your Chainsaw, Love, You’ve Pulled”, went bankrupt soon after.
However, since your rugby tackling idea is rubbish, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t take a revving chainsaw into a nightclub to impress human females.
You may endure considerable difficulty in convincing the bouncers to let you inside with it, but if they prove obstinate you can cleave them in two to gain entrance.
Additionally, watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for research.