We ask a sexy babe what pisses her off. Today’s Ballbreaker: Alyssa Pallett.
You aren’t going to impress a quality girl by talking about all your money or possessions. And if she’s not quality but is still hot, talking about all your things is only effective in making her want those things. So if that’s you strategy, realize that you’re quite literally going to have to give her stuff to get anywhere with her. Like, almost immediately, and the bigger you brag, the bigger the things she’s going to want. That’s just the rule when you’re playing with the gold diggers—if you’re going to play that game then you better be good at picking out the really slow, stupid ones. If u wanna talk bout yo’ moneys, Give me some yo’ money or don’t talk bout it, bitch!
The Bait and Switch
I do not like when a guy asks if I want to go out with him, gets my number, and then texts me later that night saying, “Come to this club, we got free booze and bring your girls!” My girls? What the hell? If you’re a promoter, just fess up and at least maybe I’ll respect you a bit more because after all, you’re just doing your job. But being misleading and thinking your charm will get my ass to the club to be one of your little table hoes — that’s not going to work. The bait and switch tactic is old; try selling vacuum cleaners in the suburbs. We city girls who like to go out are so over being stalked by promoters.
Difficult Pickup Chatter
Pease don’t ask me what I like. Like, “Sooo… what do you like to do?” I like too many things; answering that question is way too much like homework! “Sooo… how did you spend your summer vacation?” I don’t want to have to work when I’m talking to you. Why can’t we just talk about skiing, or some other sexually suggestive physical activity? Would that be so hard? And when I say “hard”…
This one seems obvious to me, but to some maybe not. I personally get annoyed when a boy wants to pee on me. That’s just weird. Go get a dog to pee on you. I’m sure there are loads of untrained animals in the city who would have no problem marking their territory on your face. They’d probably be entertained by it too. I however, I am not.
Boys who are models but assure me that they’re “just doing it for the money” and they “couldn’t help it, they just signed me right on the spot,” and thought, “what the hell.” If you’re hot, just be Jedi about it, own it and say, “Ya I’m fucking hot, so I model,” and move on.
For more Alyssa, visit The Sweet Ones, homepage of the designer vintage clothing store she runs in downtown New York City. If you’re in the neighborhood, why not stop by — address is 132 Allen St. — and have your balls broken in person?
DISCLAIMER: Ballbreaker contributors are in reality lovely, sweet girls who are cranking up the attitude for entertainment purposes only, at the request of The Smoking Jacket.