Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Girls Can't Resist

It's ridiculously easy to get girls if you were raised by wolves as a child - provided you look and act reasonably normal now. If you're the only one in your extended circle of friends who was raised by wolves, and you don't have girls lining up to date you, then you're doing something wrong, and you should listen up and really pay attention to what Latigo Flint has to tell you.

First, it's important that everyone knows you were raised by wolves. Your love life cannot benefit if no one knows. There are certain to be old newspaper articles that tell of your discovery, running wild with the pack, greasy and naked and free. (Editors love human-interest stories about children raised by wolves.) Digitize these clippings and photos and get them on this internet thing right away. Try to get access to ABC/NBC/CBS' video news archives. Just make sure it's not obvious that you're the one circulating all this material.

Second, for heaven's sake don't go around talking about it all the time. Nothing annoys people and turns girls off faster than a guy raised by wolves who won't ever shut up about it. The rule should be you never initiate a conversation about how you were raised by wolves - and you enter into such conversations reluctantly, as if it's difficult for you to speak of it, but seeing as you really, really trust the people you're with, (and dern it, some of them need to be girls, understand?) you're willing to open up and bare your soul a little.

Now this doesn't mean that you shouldn't drop subtle hints that a stark duality runs through every fiber of your being - an ever present juxtaposition of two very different worlds that you must always reconcile. The point is you try to bear this burden alone, silently, like a wounded beast... ahhhhhhh yes, you understand now -- the girls must see that it's the wolf in you that prevents casual discussion of your mysterious and unusual past, and they'll feel very honored that you were able to open up, if only slightly, to them. (And all the hot loving you care to sample immediately follows.)

An example of a good subtle hint plus follow-up would be if you're eating dinner with a group of people on an outdoor patio or a window booth with a view of the moon. At some point your intense eyes should lock onto its glowing brilliance. Your fork hand dangles in mid-air, jaws muscles clench. Turmoil! Without being overt, they must sense your inner turmoil. Then it's gone. It passed. You were able to retain control. Your eyes lower, a flicker of guilt. You resume eating.

"Oh god, that's right. You're the one who-" One hand will go to pretty lips, the other gently rests upon your arm. Lean muscles tighten abruptly beneath her touch, then slowly relax. This will be the hottest girl at the table if you've been doing everything right, as I've described above. "Are you okay?" She'll softly inquire. You wait a moment before answering. "It's nothing." Your voice should be low and slightly emotional, husky. Continue eating. Count to ten then slowly make eye contact. "Thank you though." This should be a near whisper.

Come on, I don't have to tell you this is gold - pure, frickin' gold! You may have been raised by wolves, but you're not stupid. So go now, reap the sexual benefits of your lupine upbringing. No need to thank Latigo Flint, I know you'll make me proud.

(Make sure you remember your Wolf Mother's name. You'll probably be wanting to open up a little bit more to the girl as the two of you lay together in post coital embrace, and you can't go wrong speaking quietly about your den family. Shewa-Kai-Laif-Laif is a pretty good one. Kana-Grifla-Shree-Naip isn't bad either.)


At 9:08 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

This post begs the question whether you should insist on your first sexual congress being "wolfie-style."

It's the same as doggy-style, but with more howling.

At 9:20 PM, Blogger Kilroy Trout said...

No offense Latigo but I've tried this sort of moody angst ridden shtick, and it hasn’t worked for me. Women can just never get past the *smell* of a dog. That’s the problem.

At 9:28 PM, Blogger Rasmus said...

Would this still be an acceptible pick up technique if I was in fact not raised by wolves?

At 9:50 PM, Blogger amandapants said...

Well, it was only a matter of time before you figured it out.

I feel like I shouldn't be reading, like right now I'm whittling away at bits of your mysteriousness. I will now turn my eyes away, in hopes that I someday again be enthralled by the magic of you. (sigh)

At 9:50 PM, Blogger amandapants said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

At 10:31 PM, Blogger Kid Relish said...

You didn't accidentally double post Amandapants. That second, completely different thing you wrote was great and better than anything latty's ever written and he deleted it in a fit of jealousy. I saw it.

At 2:13 PM, Blogger darthmoridin said...

A gunslinger doesn't turn bright red when he's jealous (unless he's been holding his breath for over a minute). I'm pissed. Latigo, by deleting said post and then having his little sidbitch Kid Relish post about deleting the post, has raised everyone's interest in what was in that post.

Amandapants, if Latigo must delete your post, I invite you to post it over at my blog, where I can assure you that it is not going to be deleted. Ever.

At 3:35 PM, Blogger Glenn said...

Well, that brings up an interesting story.

When I was in college (UW-Madison), there was a new weekly paper called the Onion. You may well know of it, since It has expanded well beyond Madison in the intervening years.

Anyway, I worked there briefly, and once, when it came time to find a cover story, someone had the bright idea to tell my tale.

You see, I was raised by worms.

"Amazing Worm Boy of Picnic Point" read the headline. It was accompanied by the story of how I was lost as a baby during a routine outing, and then found years later living with my adopted family beneath the ground. Thousands of attractive co-eds must have seen my picture. Everyone surely must've known of my tortured inner conflict. What happened after that is a long story, but the short version is, "no women".

I dunno, maybe worms lack the needed mystique.

At 7:41 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

I'd certainly recommend it LBB, but it's at the participant's discretion.

Very little offends me Kilroy. See, I'm Latigo Flint. I can slap thigh and shuck iron faster than a mongoose smirks.

Rasmus, I don't believe a man has ever told a lie in order to pick up women. I'm not sure you'd want to be the first. How 'bout this, did your family have a dog? Did you play with a neighbor's puppies? Start there and maybe embellish just a bit.

The magic's in the music and the music's in me Amandapants. (Plus I know where the Dutchman's Mine is - so there's plenty to learn yet.)

Everyone knows you're a dirty liar Kid.

D. Mor, people should listen to more Dwight Yoakam. That's what I think.

I am very proud to know you Glenn. I believe I recall hearing of your discovery. Hey, it's the girl's loss, worms have plenty of mystique - it's just a different kind than wolves.

At 5:44 PM, Blogger Cad Grublygold said...

Son of a motherless Yak, I always post late. Post Fad Cad they call me, any way, I learn everyday Flint. I've always found that howling like a wolf at hotties on the street gets me groin kicked or slapped. Now I see that I need to have a good back story for that to work. Thank you Latigo for looking out for me.

At 6:44 PM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Grublygold, in you I sense a kindred spirit - you're like a brother to me. Feel free to post just as late as you please, and you're most welcome.


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