To be truly attractive, a woman must wear high heels and an outfit so tight you can tell whether she's cold or not from across the room.
There are two kinds of women in the world: the type that want to go to bed with you, and the type that want to kill you. Both types are physically attractive and under 25 years old.
If I rudely argue with my boss in front of my co-workers, not only won't he fire me, but he will gain a profound respect for me.
If I can find an important enough mission, it will supercede my obligations to perform household chores, bathe, and call the next day.
If I go without bathing, swear a lot, and treat women badly, they will adore me.
If a woman tries to clean a bullet wound and I curse in pain, she will fall in love with me.
If I have a prolonged fist-fight with another guy and neither of us dies, we will become best friends.
My arch-enemy will bear an uncanny resemblance in age and bearing to my father, and he will make it clear that he has gained a deep respect for me before I kill him with my bare hands.
When I shoot people, they will die quickly and cleanly, and I will never be arrested or troubled by their widowed wife and children. When people shoot me, however, I will at most receive a 'flesh wound,' which will be tended to by a beautiful woman.
If an aged scientist is involved in any way, he will have a beautiful daughter who will gaze at me adoringly.
If royalty is involved, it will include a beautiful princess who will gaze at me adoringly.
If I have a kid partner, he will be tightly-muscled, clean-cut, and gaze at me adoringly.
If I am asked to compete against a world champion at any sport or game of any type, I will win. This will infuriate my opponent, who will then try to kill me.
If I am given a surprise attack, I will be attacked by only one or maybe two people at a time, and I will find that I am well-skilled in Karate and Jiu-jitsu, and if all else fails, I will always have one last firearm hidden somewhere on my body.
If my opponent has a side-kick or henchman, he will never have a sensible name like 'Rick,' or 'Steve.'
Beautiful women will frequently furrow their brows with concern and ask, "When's the last time you got any sleep?" They will never ask when I last bathed or used the toilet, although I apparently never do those things either.
While chasing or fleeing from an enemy, I can drive anything with a motor recklessly at 100-130 miles per hour without a seatbelt, with ammunition filling the passenger seat, and nothing will fall out of place. Also, no police will ever catch me; they'll just look in amazement in my direction.
Note: I'm not the author, these tidbits were all forwarded to me via
email. Where I know the author, it is given.
The From: header may be the author, or it may just be the person who forwarded it to me.
Feel free to contact me to claim authorship.