Hypothesis: Even you—yes, you, you lanky, pimply mess of a SEAS student—can pull straight 10s and unleash the alpha male inside of you, with a little help for yours truly, the SEAS seduction expert.
I know, I know. You’re ugly, and your intellect holds you back. Girls just want to be your friend and have no interest in fucking you. Only assholes can pull bitches, not nice guys like you.
Well, it’s time to take a good, long look in the mirror, buddy. Because you have two options: either keep bemoaning your misfortune, or keep reading this guide and learn how to become the asshole you want to be. I think you know what you need to do.
Background: I used to be like you: a pathetic, sad fuckup out of touch with my own sexuality and able to do nothing outside the fields of theoretical physics, rocket science and vector calculus. By age 20, the closest I had ever been to touching a breast was one magical moment with a Macy’s mannequin outside the changing rooms.
That was the moment of my sexual awakening. On that fateful day, I resolved to discover the secrets that, until then, were known only by natural alpha studs like econ and business majors. Why did women go for these mindless thugs time and time again, while intellectuals like you and me were waiting by the wings, ready to treat them like princesses? I needed to know the answer.
If you’re a natural pussy magnet, pulling bitches with your confident swagger and your understanding of the financial markets, this guide isn’t for you. Perhaps you would prefer one of our other guides, such as “How to Find the Perfect Trophy Wife.” This is a guide for my fellow SEAS gentlemen, the repressed intellectuals who, after years of being pushed aside by brutish econ meatbags, are ready to unlock the secrets of sexual success.
Materials: For this experiment, you’re going to need an entirely new wardrobe. Throw out your Star Wars shirt collection—yes, even the one with Darth Vader that says “Warning: Choking Hazard.” Especially that one.
To play with the big boys, you need to dress like the big boys. Invest in timeless classics like Vineyard Vines and Brooks Brothers, while showing your individuality with more niche choices like Yeezys or a well-fit blazer where appropriate to put that tech startup money to good use.
The transition lenses in your glasses aren’t going to work. Women need a man who can commit. Pull out those Ray-Ban shades whenever you can; they make you look dark and mysterious while covering up a decent portion of your ugly face. Otherwise, get contact lenses or, if you’d like to try more of a “New Yorker in the streets, Playboy in the sheets” look, some wide-rimmed glasses. Be warned though: while this style may make you the hit of the party in your book club, going for those slutty 10s may require something a little more suggestive, so rolling up your sleeves past the forearms and showing a little chest hair (taped-on if necessary) is also recommended.
When seducing women, props such as a deck of cards often come in handy. No, not the cards with a different Far Side comic on each one; a fresh deck of Bicycles is what I’m talking about. When your conversational abilities fail, as they inevitably will, you can impress bitches with card tricks and palm reading. A good old-fashioned game of 52-card pick up while picking up chicks is also a great way to get an upskirt glance if you need something to keep you going.
Here comes the hard part: putting your fresh outfit and your props to good use and getting your sexless ass out of the lab and into her bed. You’re at a frat party. (Getting in is easy; just ask that Chinese chick you met in your freshman Python class to help you and then ditch her as soon as possible.) You need to distinguish yourself from the others—and, as an engineer with a bright future ahead of you, doing so is not as hard as it may seem. Approach the first hot girl you see, taking the shortest path possible—use Dijkstra’s algorithm here if necessary.
The vibe you’re going for is “I’m sexy, I have a big dick, and you want to fuck me.” But you can’t say this directly, because none of those things are true. However, you need to embody everything that a big-dicked individual would. The dick that matters isn’t the one attached to your crotch. What really matters is the big dick in your heart.
Get up close. Hopefully you’ve washed yourself in the past few days—a tall order for someone busy unlocking the secrets of the fabric of space-time, I know, but trust me here. Whisper your opening line in her ear. There are virtually infinite choices here, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter what you say. She probably won’t be to hear what you’re saying anyway, so just say something like “Hi, I’m Chad Bigcock” or rattle off a few dozen digits of pi. What matters is your physical communication—get up in her grill and make those digits sound as sexy as you know they are.
At some point in the night you’re going to need to dance with her. This might be hard because you’ve never danced before and likely never heard music outside of that song your chemistry teacher played in class to help you learn the periodic table. Luckily for you, dancing is easy. Just sway your body to the beat (that means the occasional pounding noise that happens every half-second), mimic the much cooler guys around you, and hold a Solo cup in your dominant hand.
Talk to her about anything a CC or Barnard student might want to talk about. That means nothing about Doctor Who, nothing about the latest math paper you read, and definitely nothing about why P does not equal NP and anyone who says otherwise is just a fool with his head in the clouds. Slowly escalate physicality throughout the conversation. If you ever start to lose confidence, just repeat the following mantra to yourself: “I have a big dick and do not like math. I have a big dick and do not like math. I have a big dick and do not like math.”
By now, she should be wetter than the boat you made out of popsicle sticks for your fourth grade science fair. Don’t waste time; lean in and whisper, “You wanna get out of here?” While this line may seem confusing to you at first—where are you going?—it actually suggests that you are going somewhere to have coitus, which is the ultimate goal of this experiment.
If she says yes, congratulations. You’re almost there. Don’t celebrate yet, though; you still have to make her cum.
Results: You’re in her room now. She has terrible taste, and boy band posters and pink sheets disgust you, but make sure not to comment. The time for negs is over. Make sure you have a condom. If you haven’t seen one of these before, they’re like plastic cum socks.
A word of warning: your big-dick mantra won’t actually give you a big dick, so if she asks if it’s in yet, just say you’re still getting there and keep going.
Getting yourself off is easy; you’ve been doing it on your own for years. Mastering the puzzle of female sexuality is a different matter entirely. Legend has it that some women can’t orgasm at all, so your two-centimeter peter certainly isn’t going to do it for everyone. While this topic is too complex to explain in this little brief, call 212-854-9550 to purchase my results-guaranteed sequel booklet, “SEAS Report on Seducing Women 2: Congrats, Bro.”
After the deed is done, wipe yourself off and get the fuck out of there. You’ve got a pset due Monday. You don’t have time to linger and deal with pillow talk. But next weekend, go out there and do it again and again and again. Remember, you can’t trust a small sample size.
Rome wasn’t built in a day, and it took Darwin years to develop his theory of evolution. But you’ve taken the first step. You’ve conquered what once seemed insurmountable. Rejoice, for you have felt a real-life breast. Now go out there and fuck some more hoes, you homely, limp-dicked piece of shit.