I'm Having More Fun Than You Read Online Free PDF

anniversary, like they’re recovering alcoholics recounting how long they’ve been sober: “It’ll be twenty-six months next Thursday!”
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    Among the countless emails from female fans I’ve received over the years, many have thanked me for providing them with insight into the mind of the twentysomething male. This was never something I set out purposely to do and, quite frankly, if I represented the typical twentysomething male, our entire civilization is fucked. Nevertheless, I wonder if I will be able to duplicate those efforts in my thirties. One could argue that the twentysomething experience is relatively homogenous: move to the nearest big city, work in a cubicle, struggle to pay rent, try to get laid, get a raise, move to another big city, and repeat. At thirty and beyond, however, those parallel trajectories begin to be altered irrevocably. No two paths are the same, which makes it more difficult to generalize. I’m not too worried, though, because when it comes to the opposite sex, some things never change. As you get older, you may stand straighter and walk taller, but the ultimate goal is always to end up horizontal.

    CHAPTER 2
     
AHEAD OF THE GAME
     
    All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
    WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
     
     
    B eing in a serious relationship presents a frustrating paradox: you no longer have to work for sex, but you can also only have it with one person. On the other hand, being single means having to pound the pavement just to get some action, though the possible sources of that action are seemingly endless (depending on your standards and the acuity of your beer goggles). We bachelors have chosen to take our chances with the latter scenario. Luckily, we have also developed an arsenal of resources and strategies to help weaken the resolve of the women we encounter. Consequently, women have become adept at thwarting our advances. It’s essentially an arms race, with two adversaries stockpiling weapons despite calls from both sides to literally make love, not war. The entire courtship process—hitting on, being hit on, buying drinks, playing coy, lying, texting, thrusting, and parrying—is known collectively as “game.” And while I believe it’s possible that single men and women actually have an equal desire to hook up, it is the guys who most often act on these instincts, which usually casts us in the role of the aggressor. Our ploys are sophisticated, our angles many, and so the only way for a girl to keep her sanity—and her clothes on—is to stay ahead of the game.
    THE APPROACH
     
    Any guy will tell you that the hardest thing of all to do is pick up a completely random chick. Not a friend of a friend, not a girl you kind of know from camp. Just a complete stranger. Because we have absolutely nothing to go on. Which is why I’ve always wished that chicks had Citysearch reviews. I could spot a girl at a bar and then look her up on my BlackBerry to get the lowdown before approaching her. A review might read: “Michelle is ultra-hip and stylish. Attracts investment bankers with expense accounts. A tight squeeze but open late and accommodating to most requests.” I’d contemplate this and then say to my buddies, “I don’t know. I’m really looking for something a bit easier to get in to.”
    Of course, if I were actually able to ascertain any shred of intelligence about a girl in a bar before approaching her, it would be whether or not she’s single. The problem is, single guys broadcast their availability while women tend to conceal it. Ask me if I’m single and I’ll immediately say yes and then interrogate you about why you’re asking and who wants to know. Ask a girl if she’s single and she’ll invariably stammer, glance at her girl friends, giggle, mention something about some guy in Chicago she’s “sorta seeing,” and then finally confess she’s unattached.
    If you’re a girl in a bar who has a boyfriend, the law should