The Boyfriend Designer - Christopher Harlan Page 0,8
breath, Shosh. Many deep breaths.
“First, what the hell is ‘Smash or Pass’? And second, who in the hell is…”
Conor
“What Can I Say Except ‘You’re Welcome’?”
Ladies, Conor Durden here—the dude other dudes want to be. Host of Unlocking Your Inner Alpha on YouTube. Teacher of men, orgasm-bringer to women, and all around nice guy once you get to know me.
Of course, if you’re a guy between twenty-five and. . . well, any age after that, then you probably already know who I am.
Even if you don’t know my name, you’ve probably been the beneficiary of what I do.
I run a YouTube channel that just hit three and a half million subscribers last month. Even if you don’t know me, you know a guy who knows me, and that means you know a guy who’s a better version of himself because of me.
See, I teach men how to be men.
I’m the dude who other dudes want to be like—you may have even seen that printed on some of the many pieces of merch my loyal followers proudly wear. No doubt you’ve seen your boyfriends, husbands, or even guys on the street wearing my stuff.
So, what do I actually do?
Like I said—I teach men how to be men. You can check out my channel, where I have videos on things like: how to get the right haircut for the shape of your face, how to develop that swag gait (for the unindoctrinated, that’s a video I have on how men should walk). Sound ridiculous? It isn’t.
Ladies, how would you feel if some insecure man who had his head down walked up to you? That’s right, you wouldn’t give that man the time of day—and you shouldn’t!
Now, picture that same man after watching one of my videos. Imagine that newly confident man walking up to you—head up, strong eye contact, haircut on point, and the confidence to approach you the right way. That’s what I do—I teach dudes how to be dudes. And like The Rock said, ‘What can I say except you’re welcome’.
Sure, in this liberal and progressive time we’re currently Irving in some women have labeled me a pig, telling me that my channel—and I’m quoting some troll in my comments here— “. . .promotes toxic masculinity.”
You know what I think when I read shit like that? I’m needed more than ever.
Men are getting soft, plain and simple, and it’s time to make masculinity a thing again. And come on, what woman wants a soft guy? A guy who can’t dress to impress, or can’t hold a conversation, or has no confidence in himself? That’s right, no woman I’ve ever known—and trust me, I know my share.
I know what women secretly want men to be, and it’s not a bunch of betas who don’t know how to change their own tires.
Women want men. Plain and simple.
Men who aren’t afraid to be men.
And if they don’t know how to be what they really are. . . well then, that’s what I’m here for.
You’re welcome ladies.
Shoshana
“My fuckability score can’t be that low!”
I’m freaking out.
And not my usual freak out. This is a giant freak out on steroids that makes all my other ones look like a baby kicking its feet. We’re at defcon 5, people.
I left the coffee shop so I wouldn’t get arrested for acting crazy in public. I’m not doing that again…and I totally would have gotten arrested for the scene I was about to make, and that would have been a bad look all around. Instead I grabbed my laptop and did my best impersonation of an angry four year old who just found out they weren’t getting dessert, stomping my way back to my apartment.
NowI’m now sitting here steaming and waiting for Tori to call me back.
While I wait I open up my computer and watch that video about me again. I don’t know why—guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
Unsurprisingly, a second viewing doesn’t help my rage go away. Instead it spoon feeds it steroids and caffeine pills.
My phone rings and temporarily snaps me out of my crazy.
“Now, I repeat, who the fuck is Conor Durden?” I don’t bother with ‘hello’ — we’re way past that point and Tori knows it. She’s saying words into her phone—I know she is—just like I know that those words are technically in the same language I speak, but I’m so mad that every sentence she’s attempting to calm me down with just sounds like she’s Charlie Brown’s teacher—wonk, wonk, wonk.