Com llegeix "El Método"

Després de tota la introducció, uns punts del llibre que vull aclarir.

La primera cosa en què pensen les dones quan se’ls explica que existeix una obra d’aquest caire és “I això no és tractar les dones com a objectes?”.

No ho sé. La única cosa que puc assegurar és que un tant per cent molt elevat de mascles surten de festa exclusivament per intentar endur-se una tia al llit. A vegades em sorprenc que hi hagi noies que no siguin conscients d’això, però puc assegurar que si de sobte tots els tios deixessin de voler-se ficar al llit amb altres persones les discoteques es buidarien, però es buidarien d’una manera que no us podeu ni imaginar. Aquest paràgraf, apart de ser adequat per la pregunta, demostra que el protagonista no és només un imbècil disposat a fer el que sigui per follar (o sí, però com a mínim es qüestiona).

It was then that I realized the downside to this whole venture. A golf was opening between men and women in my mind. I was beginning to see women solely as measuring instruments to give me feedback on how I was progressing as a pickup artist. They were my crash-test dummies, identificable only by hair colors and numbers—a blonde 7, a brunette 10. Even when I was having a deep conversation, learning about a woman's dreams and point of view, in my mind I was just ticking off a box in my routine marked rapport. In bonding with men, I was developing an unhealthy attitude toward the opposite sex. And the most troubling thing about this new mindset was that it seemed to be making me more successful with women.



La segona és “És impossible que funcioni”.

Ja he deixat molt clar que aquest llibre no és un manual fet a la babalà, sinó un estudi molt profund de la psicologia femenina. No només s’ha de llegir, sinó que s’ha d’entendre, i estic convençut que molts tios se’l podrien llegir cinquanta vegades i no aconseguirien entrar en el joc o perquè no ho entendrien o perquè no s’hi veurien amb cor o còmodes per fer-ho. Quan insisteixo tant en l’imaginari que gira al voltant de l’obra no ho faig gratuïtament. Et pot tocar més o menys els collons que hi hagi gent que s’hagi dedicat a fer això, però s’ha de tenir en compte que la reproducció és una de les bases principals de tots els éssers vius. No sé si això ho justifica, però és així.

La tercera és “No totes les dones som iguals”.

I hi estic totalment d’acord, però tothom actua lliurement dins un marc. Amb això no estic posant les dones per sota els homes, sinó que dic que les persones normalment no som tan especials com ens pensem. Només fa falta fixar-se, per exemple, en les modes o les obsessions generacionals. Diuen que les mosques són animals simples perquè responen de la mateixa manera a un mateix estímul. Bé, només cal comptar els milions d’ulleres Ray-Ban que es veuen pel carrer, les bambes Converse, els tatuatges, o fixar-se en la obsessió de la majoria de persones nascudes als ’80 pels dibuixos de l’època. En general en qualsevol moda. I si ara estàs pensant que no fas res d’això i que ets súper especial enumera les coses que fas i busca al google persones que també les facin i adona’t que en el fons som tots iguals.

Les pautes generals funcionen igual per totes les dones, siguis una pija que es gasta 1000 euros cada cap de setmana o una punk que només volta per cases okupa. Cap tia vol un perdedor, cap tia es vol arriscar a ficar-se al llit amb un paio que es veu d’una hora lluny que fa tres anys que no folla, cap tia té ganes que la molestin amb converses de merda, etc.

A mode de comprovació fixa’t en qualsevol colla de tios. Després localitza el que està “per damunt”, o sigui, el que es treballa més l’aspecte per ser part de la colla (aquí hi entren modernos, crusties, heavies, hippies...), el que parla més i amb més seguretat, el que porta la iniciativa, o sigui, el que s’ha convertit en la icona de la seva colla, que no necessàriament ha de coincidir amb el guapo. Llavors mira la novia que té. Segurament serà la que està més bona, o si no en té serà el que es tira més ties o el que té la tia que ell vol. És un experiment cutre però normalment funciona.

A continuació, no només la raó per la qual aquest llibre no està tan malament, sinó per la qual és un bé per la humanitat.

As anyone who regularly reads newspapers or true-crime books knows, a significant percentage of violent crime, from kidnappings to shooting sprees, is the result of the frustrated sexual impulses and desires of males. By socializing guys like Sasha, Mystery and I were making the world a safer place.

Ja per acabar deixo un fragment que em va fer riure força.



So I was kissing her and rubbing her poon down. This was pretty hard. I couldn't concentrate on kissing her and rubbing her at the same time. I was doing my best though.


She started rubbing my cock, and it felt pretty cool. LOL


WIDEFACE: Fuck me Extramask.


EXTRAMASK: Okay.


So I tore off my fucking underwear. I kneeled there on her bed with my rock-hard boner pulsating, throbbing—you know it.


WIDEFACE: Put on a condom. I have one.


EXTRAMASK: I have one of my own.


I didn't want to use hers. I was freaked out about it for some reason, like she would sabotage it or some shit.


WIDEFACE: What brand?


EXTRAMASK: Sheik.


Again, I was a virgin at this point and I didn't know how to properly put a condom on.


EXTRAMASK: Put the condom on, it turns me on.


WIDEFACE: Okay.


She couldn't get the condom on, so she went to get hers. As she went and got hers, I ended up getting my own on. Then I fucked her!


I fucked her and fucked her and fucked her and fucked her and fucked her and fucked her.


About fifteen minutes into the whole thing, I was thinking, "This fucking sucks. This is fucking sex? I hate this. I want to leave." I legitimately wanted to leave. I was thinking, "I busted my fucking balls for months for this?"


I was sitting there pumping this girl missionary style for fifteen minutes getting no feeling.


She was all moaning and shit, and I'm just pumping away like a tool. So I decided to move her around and try some positions—just like in the porno movies!


I had her on top. I had always fantasized about this. So she was on top of me and I was thinking, "Holy shit, this fucking hurts. My cock is gonna fucking snap off."


After about two minutes, I changed positions because it hurt so much. I got her into doggy-style position. I thought this would be interesting. So I had her from behind and I was trying to find the slot, but I couldn't. I was sitting there fishing around her ass and upper legs looking for the entry. It was horrible, just like the sex. I couldn't find the hole. She started to whine because of the long delay. I was thinking, "You're whining? Calm it down, China—seriously." I wasn't getting any arousal out of this deal.


I got it in for two strokes, then it popped out. Then she started whining again. So I switched positions and, for some reason, I went to the her-on-top position again. Dumb move, Extramask. I feared my cock would break right the fuck off. After about four minutes of that, we went back to missionary, and I slammed her hard.


Hey, she said she wanted it.


I was saying shit like:


'You like that?"


"Say my name!"


'You like it hard?"


Keep in mind, I was bored out of my mind during this whole experience. I was pretty disappointed. LOL


After thirty minutes:


WIDEFACE: Change your condom.


EXTRAMASK: (Thinking: I guess this is something you do after a half hour of


sex. But overall I was pissed that the sex wasn't over.)


So I took my condom off and opened a new one.


WIDEFACE: What are you doing?


EXTRAMASK: I'm putting on another condom.


WIDEFACE: Why?


EXTRAMASK: I thought you said you wanted me to?


WIDEFACE: No.


I didn't care. I was happy with that.


So then we just lay naked together and kissed a bit. She wanted to cuddle. I didn't really want to, but I did. This was a mistake on my part. After sex I should have ripped my condom off, sat on her bed, and jerked off until completion. I should have wacked my load all over the place, her face, and her Trinitron TV set.


WIDEFACE: Lie down and rest for five minutes. Then I will call a cab.


EXTRAMASK: What? Five minutes? Why are you trying to rush me out of here?


WDEFACE: No, I didn't mean it like that. It’s just good to rest after sex for five minutes.


EXTRAMASK: What's with the five minutes thing?


WDEFACE: No. Just relax.


EXTRAMASK: But why five minutes?


Five minutes later she called a cab. She was on hold with the cab company, and she started getting all frustrated because she had to wait, which was annoying. So I got ready to leave. I chatted with her a bit more. She said she noticed in the club that I had lots of energy. She liked it.


WDEFACE: What are you going to do now? [It was 3:30 AM.)


EXTRAMASK: I'm going to another club to hook up with my friends. [I got


even more energetic. I jumped around.)


She totally didn't like that I said I was going out again. And I really wasn't. I just lied to her. I did it because I was pissed that she was trying to get rid of me so quickly. Overall, I wanted to leave her place immediately—I just wanted to leave on my terms.


So the cab arrived and I left her place. We kissed about three times before my exit.


I didn't get her number because:


1. I didn't want to fuck her again.


2. It was obvious this was a one-night stand.


Just to be on the safe side, I made sure I wrote down her exact address when I left—just in case I forgot shit there. I would rather have it than not have it. So that's it. I stuck my junk in a chick. I lost my virginity. The sex was horrible. I felt a bit dirty and used after the act. Overall, I don't feel any different compared to when I was a virgin.


However, I believe this will help me subconsciously in my sarges. I mean, I've had sex now. I know this. So from here on in, any girl I chat with, I'll be even more like, "Who gives a fuck? I don't need what you got."


—Extramask.