Y
ou'd think that would be the end of the story...Seduce woman with swashbuckling Lover—check.
Fuck her from stem to stern with ferocious Lion—
check.
Except...
That's not the end of the story.
There's yet another side of you that plays a larger-than-life role in the eternal dance between the Divine Feminine and the Masculine Ideal.
In fact, I'm about to make a bold statement--as if I could make any other kind!--and suggest that the part we’re about to meet has single-handedly cost you more pussy than every other cause combined.
No doubt, this side of you is sweet and well-intentioned. He just keeps mucking the works at the worst time. You can either learn how to handle him and get his needs met—or resign yourself to a life of frustration and semi-celibacy.
Because this part of you ain’t getting nobody laid ever. Nor should it, since he's just a little boy. He’s the darling little boy inside you.
Your baby-faced Inner Child of 5 or 7 or however old he feels to you.
I like to think of him as your Little Prince, because that's just what he is—a precious, sweet, very important side of yourself.
A Little Prince, just like in the book, just like in real life. So that's what we're going to call him, your Little Prince. And he’s lots of things...
Charming Innocent Vulnerable
Caring Scared Lost Overwhelmed
Indeed, our Little Prince almost seems to be the repository for all those “un-manly” traits we aren't supposed to ever allow ourselves to feel or acknowledge, right?! But that's the point of the Little Prince. He's the gateway to the endearing boyish qualities that make our life more enjoyable.
Now an explicit goal of the heroic journey we’re undertaking is to reconnect you with your most masculine qualities. But transforming yourself into an Alpha male does NOT mean simultaneously becoming an asshole.
Instead, being strong, confident and NICE—now there's a winning combination. And our Little Prince is the Keeper of Nice. That's the game he plays.
Now you may be reluctant to admit you have a younger version of yourself who's a little bit scared and lonely and could really use a hug.
But I know that you know that he’s in there.
However, you also “know” that apparently you’re not supposed to talk about the little fellow, because nobody else fucking does. Not one of your guy friends ever sees you at the bar and asks, “How’s the little boy inside you doing today?”
Right now, say how old your little boy is! Just say it. Out loud.
What’d you say? 5? 7? Maybe a little more or a little less?!
But you didn’t say nothing. Even if you’ve never paid any attention to this part of you before in your entire life, you’ve always known he was there.
You can feel him, no less than he can feel you.
And you’re not alone. Every man has a Little Prince inside him...just as every woman has a corresponding inner child within her, which we’ll get to in due course, never fear.
Even Isaac Newton, the cornerstone upon which the entire rational, scientific model is built (after all, dude created calculus, invented reflecting telescopes and fucking discovered gravity) left behind this uncharacteristically charming description of himself:
“I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore.”
Or take one of our most popular motion picture stars, George Clooney. Rugged and manly. Definitely a leader. But with an engaging boyish charm about him. His little boy is never far from the surface.
I like to refer to the boy within every man as our Little Prince in no small part because it makes him feel special.
And he should feel special. Because he is special.
Even if we men don't always acknowledge the little boy within us, our female counterparts know him all too well.
One of the primary complaints women level against men is that we never grow up. They grumble that we're “childish”. They dislike our unabashed Southpark-ian enjoyment of burping, farting, cussing, playing video games and telling the same lame jokes over and over again. And they're especially annoyed by our preferred arguing strategy of turning our backs, freezing them out and staying completely silent.
In other words, exactly the characteristics you'd expect from a little boy who never grew--and never will.
Peter Pan wasn’t just a story.
So we want to keep our Little Prince close, but not too close. As I say, it's a good bet that one of your biggest problems in the past was that you let your Little Prince out too often and at the most inopportune moments with women.
Understanding where your inner child fits into
your seductions--whether of women, riches or anything else--is paramount to your future success.
As is knowing where he doesn’t fit in.
So let’s flip the script for a moment and come at this from a different angle. Let’s keep talking about your Little Prince, but let’s use a name for him that’s may be more familiar to you so you really understand how he’s been geting in your way, and ultimately what you can do about it. For the next while we’re gonna stop referring to him as your Little Prince and use the name he’s perhaps better known by: your Nice Guy.
Ohhhhhhhhh, now you get it, right?! Now you understand the part of you I'm talking about? Even if you were resistant to the whole concept of having a little boy within, you absolutely know there’s a Nice Guy in there, right?!
And, boy howdy, is he nice. People don't always seem to recognize just how damn nice he is. Your Nice Guy almost never gets the appreciation and approval he deserves, does he?
Your poor, poor Nice Guy! He has so few real friends left these days. He's been widely demonized--often by women, and most especially by strong, intelligent women who are sickened by otherwise fine men who drag out their Nice Guy at the exact wrong times.
If you ever wondered why you don't get laid as much as you desire and deserve, it's probably because of your Nice Guy.
Here’s a secret that shouldn’t be a secret to anyone...
Nice doesn't get you laid.
The distant shores of the dating world are awash with Nice Guys--each of them dying a frustrating, lonely death just out of reach of the Sea-of-Absolute-Fucking-Plenty!
Nice Guys think nothing of pouring attention and money into a woman without expecting anything in return. Your standard-issue Nice Guy brings the ladies sweets and he writes her lovely poems with the same satisfying ABABCC rhyme scheme he learnt in middle school.
Nice Guys love women.
For their part, women don't love Nice Guys, but they sure as hell like them and can never get enough of them. From a woman's point of view, finding a Nice Guy is like winning the New Gay Best Friend Lottery!
Only better—because her Nice Guy isn't going to run off with steamy Spanish cabana boy she's panting over. Indeed, her Nice Guy will cheerfully provide a shoulder to cry on when she crashes and burns with other men.
And, let's be clear here...
There will be Other Men.
There will be nothing but Other Men.
There will never be your Nice Guy.
When you're in Nice Guy mode, women think of you as gender neutral; in other words, they lump you into the same category as if you were British!
I kid, I kid! (Actually...no I don’t!)
Your Nice Guy is just soooooooo giving!
Women enjoy your Nice Guy’s infinite supply of shoulder rubs (if you get nothing out of this entire book, pal, get this: rubbing the shoulders of a woman you’re not already fucking is a stepping stone to one thing only--another man fucking her) and free double-shot-choco-lattes from Starbucks (“No, baby, I got this!”) and all his big boy help around the house (“Ohhh, you're my Prince Charming for spending your whole Saturday afternoon unclogging my bathtub—now go away so I can get ready for my hot date with Quasimodo's understudy!”).
Most women don't go around looking for Nice Guys to exploit. But they're also not stupid--when one comes their way they take full advantage, in precisely the same way you or I wouldn't hesitate to pocket a
$20 bill we found laying on the street.
A woman will enjoy this free ride for as long as possible, until the inevitable day--sometimes years later--when your Nice Guy gets all liquored up and slurringly confesses that his dearest wish in the world is to insert his penis into her vagina—upon which she will launch the I-Don’t-Like-You-In-THAT-Way app and let him slink off to find another woman to Nice Guy to death.
If you question 100 women who’ve snuck in to read this book against my wishes and ask what they want in a man, 99 of them will mention “Nice Guy”
somewhere in the response.
But that’s a fucking lie.
They’re lying to you and they’re lying to themselves.
Women don't want Nice Guys. They are sick to fucking death of Nice Guys. If you took all the Nice Guys in the world, locked them in a giant sports arena and threw away the key, the greater part of womenkind would be pleased as punch.
Sure, there'd be fewer eligible men around, and the competition for them would be fierce, but at least the remaining men would be capable of stepping up to the plate and knocking it out of the park on any given pitch.
One of the great tragedies of our world is that so many good men only reveal their Nice Guy to the world. They’re afraid to go deeper into their sexual nature...or they simply don't know how to get there.
Some modern men even hate their own Nice Guy, because they fully grasp everything this part has cost them.
But you cannot hate this part of you.
For one thing, it's a part of you—and it ain't going nowhere!
For another, it's your sweet, precious little boy. It's your Little Prince. And when you get angry and upset and all pissy about being taken advantage of by women, your Little Prince feels your anger.
And that makes him very sad. And scared. And
isolated.
Which is not good. In fact, it's exceedingly non-good. So let's discover how to fix it by rolling out a little owner's manual for your Little Prince!
Because this is important shit, my friend.
The road to Fucking-More-Women-ville runs right through here.
15: On The Care & Feeding of Your Little