From the original article on April 8, 2009. Author: Chateau Heartiste.
Culled from a lifetime of pussy hounding (and from what I can remember):
“Why would you even bother?”
“Seriously?”
[Looks at me with a blank stare, saying nothing.]
“Tch!” [Rolls eyes and turns her back.]
“Ok, I’m gonna stop you right there. See, I just saved us both time.”
“Oh my god, not again.”
“It would be better if you talked to her over there instead.”
[Grabs nearest guy and makes a big show of enthusiastically chatting him up.]
“You are SO not my type.”
“I’ve got five boyfriends. All filled up here!” (I thought that one was kind of funny and gave her props.)
“No thanks!” (This was funny considering all I had said was “Hi”.)
“This... right here... isn’t going to work.”
And the winning premeditated soulmurder rejection of all time (Happened in freshman year of high school, when LJBF was just a series of letters to me. She was a smoking hot senior. I was never one to shy away from a challenge.):
“You like me like that? Aw, that’s cute!”
It was this last rejection which ushered forth the demon unto the world.
If you aren’t prepared to brush off the bitchiest rejections like so much gossamer femsnark, you aren’t ready to play this game.
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