How To Be More Attractive To Women & Get The Girl Of Your Dreams

Find out how to make yourself stand out from the rest.

When it comes to dating, it seems like some men have all the luck. So what do those men know about how to be more attractive to women that you don’t?

Women universally love and respect men who are strong.

While researching my book, Being the Strong Man a Woman Wants, one of the biggest complaints I heard from women is that today’s men don’t show initiative and lack grit. They say that men seem oblivious to problems and wait for women to tell them what to do. Even when they’re asked for input about something, men will say, “you decide.”

Single women told me that when they go out for coffee with a man, instead of taking the lead and selecting the place to go, he wants her to choose. And when they finally get somewhere, he wants her to pick the table.

To avoid accusations of being controlling, many men have now gone to the opposite extreme by completely avoiding being assertive. They think they’re showing that they’re non-controlling nice guys and can’t understand why women are frustrated and lose respect for them.

Here are three key ways to become a self-assured man any woman would love:

1. Show leadership

When a man sees a situation that needs to be dealt with, he should step forward and handle it. Women admire men who are willing to step up, instead of waiting for others to solve the problem.

RELATED: The #1 Secret To Being Attractive To Women

2. Make decisions

A man needs to make his share of decisions (like picking a restaurant and/or a table) and take ownership of the outcome, instead of blaming it on someone else. To many women, a man who avoids being decisive is shirking his responsibilities.

3. Take responsibility

Refrain from attacking someone about a situation, and instead, make an effort to improve it.

There is little sympathy for a man who blames a woman for making a bad choice — even when he thinks she pushed him into it. As the man, it’s your lot to skillfully manage and salvage unfortunate circumstances, as well as seek to attain ideal ones.

Despite these tips, it’s important to get to know your mate in order to get a feel for what she wants. Ask specific questions based on the above suggestions. You may be surprised by her response.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Men Describe The Creepiest Girl They’ve Ever Met – Part 2

The world is full of creeps, and if you’re not careful then you might end up being the unwilling object of a particular creep’s affection. Check out these Reddit-approved stories of possibly insane women who creeped dudes out. Some of these stories will make you afraid to ever talk to another human being again.
Drinking Games Don’t Have To Be PG
“Was out in San Fran for GDC a few years back. Stayed in a hostel with a whole bunch of my classmates since it was much cheaper than a hotel.

First few nights we were hanging out in the common room, playing drinking games, and meeting people from around the world. However, there was this older Asian woman who would float from group to group trying to join in and steal a beer or two. No one really complained at first.

On the third night, five of my buddies and these four Aussies decide to play Kings (or Kings Cup). Well, this lady joined and we tried to be nice and teach her the game. She pulled a king, which is rule master. We explained the rule and gave her some examples: must have your drink in hand at all times, laugh a certain way, no eye contact, etc.

She takes a few seconds to think and looks directly at me and says ‘Take off your pants!’ I just sit in disbelief and my buddy right away starts laughing. One of the Aussie chicks explains it doesn’t work that way. The woman then starts yelling other things at me. ‘Show me your butt! Let me see c*ck! Give me dance!’

At this point, I am trying to laugh it off, but I’m super embarrassed too. We ended up kicking her out of the game and then she was kicked out of the hostel the next day because she was found to be sneaking into other people’s rooms at night.”

The Choke And Vomit Experience Gets Zero Stars
“Well, I was at a party when this girl that I went to university with (and I only treated as a classmate) tried to choke me into telling her the name of the girl that I was seeing so that she could in her words ‘help’ me, and only let go when she threw up on herself.

That was pretty traumatic and creepy, 0/10 would not do again.”

Friend’s girlfriend randomly shows up for sex

“My buddy’s girlfriend showed up at my front door drunk and ready to bang. She professed her love for me and had built up this secret relationship between the two of us in her head. Like, we had our song and stuff like that. She said that the only reason that she was still with him was so that she could see me. I was pretty creeped out.

I was polite but told her that I wasn’t interested in any way. I made sure that she got home safe and then called my friend to tell him what happened. When he confronted her, she said that we had slept together that night. He called me on speakerphone in front of her and asked what happened. I told him the same story I told him the night before. He broke up with her right there and threw her out of his house.

She emailed me about six months later to tell me that she missed me. I did not respond.”

A Narrow Escape From An Unspeakable Crime
“So the other day I’m casually sitting in the cafe inside my gym, waiting for my friend who was just showering. I was literally just sitting at a table with some coffee and playing games on my phone.

Then out of nowhere this woman comes and sits next to me, I look up at her, and she stares intently into my eyes. ‘Hey honey do you mind if I sit here?’ she asks. ‘Umm, yeah sure go ahead’ I told her rather confused.

Now, I should let you know, I’m a 17-year-old white Jewish kid and she’s a black woman in her 30s. I could never see what she’d want with me.

She slowly stares me up and down and asks if I want to join her for her workout, I declined, telling her that I just finished actually. She says something along the lines of ‘I can sure see that,’ with a wink. Now it’s getting even creepier as she tries to nudge closer to me and as she stares deeply into my eyes. I just nervously smile.

Then out of nowhere, this hulking black guy appears behind her, my first thought is that this guy is about to fuck me up. He’s about to open a can of whoop-ass on me. He extends his hand. Whelp. Then he shakes my hand and says to what I have now figured is his client, ‘Is this young man joining us today?’ Before she can even answer another woman joins the duo, she too is staring intently into my eyes.

For a few moments, they all just stand there, smiling at me, then staring only to look at each other and smile more. This is beyond awkward.

Then they all just nod at me and leave.

I have no idea what they wanted, but something tells me they were scouting for someone to join their threesomes, someone ironic, and they all wanted me.”

Mom Pulls A Mrs. Robinson — On Two 11-Year-Olds
“I was 11 and at a friend’s place when his mother came from the tanning bed, opened up her robe and asked if we boys thought her tan was nice (she was nude beneath the robe).

Really creepy.”

You Can’t Be Too Careful When You Live In A #MeToo World
“A female coworker had a crush on me, and ‘accidentally’ ran into me (literally) at the public mall when I was in the middle of a conversation with a friend. She then proceeded to ask me if I was going to rape her. Specifically, she said ‘So are you going to rape me now?’

No context, or even sexual talk having ever occurred between us that might justify it, or make it potentially an (unfunny) joke, or anything. It was just out of nowhere.”

Self-Mutilation Doesn’t Hurt When You Do It For Love

“I had a girlfriend when I was young who carved a heart with my first initial inside it into the flesh of her hip.”

A Terrifying Gesture Of Goodwill
“One time I went shopping at my local goodwill. When I got home I had a friend request from my cashier. I never gave her my name…

Stop asking if she was hot. It doesn’t matter, it’s still not ok.”

Only A Creeper Would Say That

I was 26 or something at the time, the girl was 31 and hot for me – she was reasonably good looking – we worked at the same company. I was thinking of sealing the deal at least casually.

So we were drunk at a pub (every Friday after work) – she started telling me about someone her mum knows that has cancer. She ends it by saying ‘he deserves it anyway.’

I said, ‘WHOA? what the f*ck does that mean? Did he do something wrong to you or your mum?’

She says, ‘Nope, everyone that gets cancer has done something evil in their past to deserve it. It’s like bad karma.’

Knowing the perfect comeback that logic can’t defeat I say:

‘Bullsh*t. What about sweet, innocent two-year-old kids with leukemia? They haven’t been able to do anything evil to get cancer.’

She says: ‘No, they have done something evil also.’

I say: ‘You mean in a past life?’ (think she may be Buddhist with the karma talk).

She says: ‘No.’

So I nope’d the f*ck out of there.”

Someone Got A Little Carried Away With The Twilight Series
“Not exactly romantic, but the first night I was hooking up with this beautiful girl, she wanted to prove how dirty she could be. I had told her that I liked to try interesting things in bed, and she said ‘Yeah well, I’m up for anything. See this scar?’ (Points to her left clavicle.) ‘That’s where I cut myself so my last boyfriend could drink my blood.’

But… she was still super hot so I pretended that was totally normal.”

Can’t Hang With Dead People — Or People Who Can See Dead People

“My ex says she saw dead people. At a party, she said there was a dead man in the house wanting us to get out. She sat on the bathroom floor for 20 minutes staring into nothing. Then she let out a big breath, lowered her head, and started crying… then we left.

She was a really nice girl but that particular side of her was creepy.”

Let Them Have Cake With Their Erotic Literature
“I met a girl on a bus in Manchester, UK. She approached me and asked if she could have a Jaffa Cake (she saw the box protruding from my grocery bag), so I said sure. As I leaned down to get the box and open it she proceeded to tell me she wrote erotic fiction, as I offered her the Jaffa Cake she handed me a notebook filled with filth.

I quickly made my excuses and got off at the wrong stop just to get out of the situation.”

Will Do Anything For Booze
“Not so creepy, just sadder: Was at my local pub a while back and a young woman came and sat down with me. She has obviously drunk already but while entertaining her small talk she kept trying to steal my pint, which I didn’t let happen.

Over the course of about the next 15 minutes she still tries to go after my pint, then keeps asking me to buy her a drink (I declined), then offered to ‘service’ me for a drink (definitely declined), then started to get upset with me and telling everyone near that I was her boyfriend and was being an asshole and violent. Luckily it’s my friend’s pub. We called her a cab and sent her on her way.

She wandered back in 15 minutes later and started the same routine with another man sitting a few stools down from me who had witnessed the previous incident…”

What You Lookin’ At?
“One time at work I was outside pushing carts when this middle-aged woman in her car with a glass of wine in hand said ‘Are you wearing underwear?’

I replied, ‘Umm yea.’

Then she said, ‘Huh doesn’t look like it,’ and drove off.

Men Describe The Creepiest Girl They’ve Ever Met – Part 1

The world is full of creeps, and if you’re not careful then you might end up being the unwilling object of a particular creep’s affection. Check out these Reddit-approved stories of possibly insane women who creeped dudes out. Some of these stories will make you afraid to ever talk to another human being again.
A Long, Unhealthy Obsession Can Only Predict A Terrible Ending
“When I was 19 I moved out of my parents’ house and got an apartment. It was in a relatively safe neighborhood, but still affordable. One bedroom, one bath. Very modest. Nothing fancy.

Anyway, I was on the second floor, above an old man who couldn’t hear anything and below a couple in their early 20s who fought and screamed all the f*cking time, and when they weren’t fighting they took turns having loud, obnoxious sex in the wee morning hours or rolling giant f*cking boulders around the floor at all times of day apparently.

One day, the boyfriend gets violent and the cops take him away. The girl continues living there, but she comes down to me to let me know he’s gone and because I was a relatively big guy then (300+ lbs) she said he’s not supposed to come by, but can I have your number in case he does? This was before cell phones, so I gave it to her.

I should mention that I had a girlfriend (Sue) at this time, and she did not like upstairs girl (Jen).

Anyway, Jen calls me one night right before midnight. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Yeah. What you doing?’ She asks. ‘Getting to bed, I have to be at work at 7. I work early.’ ‘Wanna come f*ck me?’ She says. Very direct.

‘Uh, I’ve got a girlfriend Jen. Talk to you later.’

Two hours later, she calls me and wakes me up. She’s crying. ‘Why don’t you think I’m attractive? Why don’t you want to f*ck me? I saw your girlfriend and she’s fat. Why don’t you want to fuck me? I swear I won’t tell anybody. But you have to break up with her. It won’t work. She doesn’t love you like I do.’

Keep in mind all those words came out at lightning speed and she was drunk. She just kept prattling on like that, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. Finally, I ended up just hanging up. 30 seconds later she’s banging on my door. I decided to ignore it. She starts yelling. It’s almost two AM. She’s screaming. Crying. Banging on the door.

I do the only thing I can think of – I call the police. They say it’ll be 45 minutes.

It took them an hour, and she was banging on the door screaming and crying for the entire hour. They take her back to her apartment and calm her down. An officer takes a statement. He keeps asking ‘Was she ever in this apartment?’ and questions like that. ‘At no point did you allow her to enter the premises?’

She’d never, ever been inside my place. She told the cops a very different story – that we’d been intimate, that I’d kicked her out in the middle of sex without her keys or her wallet. I told the cop he was free to search. He looked around for about 10 minutes, seemed satisfied, and then thanked me and left. At this point, it’s near four AM.

4:30 rolls around, and she calls me and wakes me up. She’s apologizing. She’s crying. She’s so sorry she got like that, but she just misses him SO MUCH. At this point, I tell her I think it’s a bad idea that we talk anymore. I tell her I understand how hard it is, but that I’m going to miss work and I can’t afford to miss a day’s pay.

She seems to get that and hangs up.

I go to work after getting maybe 2 hours of sleep in total. I’m a zombie all day. I get home at 4:30, ready to crash. Sue, my girlfriend, was going to bring dinner by after she got off work at eight. I have 4 or so hours to sleep.

My apartment is completely spotless. Somebody came in and cleaned it. Better yet, they vacuumed, and I still didn’t even own one yet. There are freshly made cookies on the table. Sue must have gotten off early, I think. ‘Sue!?’ I say and walk to the bedroom. There, of course, is Jen. Naked except for thigh-high stockings and a hair tie. She’s lying on her back, and as I come in she pulls her knees back to her shoulders, smiles at me, and says ‘Shove your f*cking cock in me until I cry.’

I just turned around and ran out of my own apartment. Scared like a little boy. I would have run all the way to the office but I was in terrible shape so I walked. In the lobby I called the police again, they came and arrested her. Charged her with some minor things like B&E or trespassing (forget which) and she spends a couple nights in jail since her parents/friends don’t bail her out.

Behavior like this happens for weeks. I have some friends stay at my house, including Sue, during this time so I’m never alone because I’m worried she’s crazy and might do something weird.

She’s constantly knocking on the door and arguing with the people staying at my place. She offers to ‘Share me’ with Sue, offers to go down on Sue, then eventually tries to get Sue to leave me and move in with her and that they’ll be like the lesbian Bonnie and Clyde.

A week or two later she is being evicted (I guess they were late on rent already by like two months and eviction had begun) and as some form of weird protest, she paints her upper torso and face bright pink with some kind of body paint and wears a green bikini top as they drag her kicking and screaming out of the place. Police end up arresting her again for something.

My six months lease is up and I’m uncomfortable with her knowing where I live, so I move. I get an unlisted number/address. I am about 10 miles from the old place. A couple of months after I move in, there’s a knock at the door on a Saturday afternoon. It’s Jen. She followed me from my work during the week, then waited until Sue left and now she wants to apologize. She says she’s medicated, she wants to apologize. I tell her I can’t let her in, and that she needs to leave. I tell her I hope she’s better, but I can’t let her in.

Predictably, she goes nuts. Another call to the cops as I lean on my own door to keep her from pushing it in. Another arrest.

For a while, I didn’t hear from her. Six months, a year. I moved three states away, broke up with Sue (unrelated to this), and was single. It’s been about three to four years, and suddenly I get a MySpace friend request from her. I ignore it. Then I get a tirade of emails. Long-winded, lacking punctuation. Stream of consciousness. Clearly mentally ill. I just ignore them, what else can I do?

This is about 2002.

It dies down a bit. 2005, I hear back from her on Facebook. Same thing. I ignore it again.

2006, Sue messages me out of the blue. Haven’t talked to her in like eight years. She says Jen came into her work and wanted info on me, where I was, what I was doing. She was dragged out by security.

2008, Jen finds my little brother’s Facebook while he’s in college. Makes a road trip across three states to find him at school. Finds his dorm and goes to talk to him. He has no idea who she is. She threatens him, he and two friends kick her out of the dorm. He calls me, I explain. He calls the cops. They do nothing.

Six months later she accosts him at his work – a bar – his boss (female) punches her square in the mouth during a fight to get her out of the building and Jen loses two teeth. She sues the bar, the owner counter-sues, and Jen is found mentally incompetent and placed under some form of mental hold in a facility.

2012 – Jen is out of the mental illness facility and heavily medicated. Her ‘counselor’ contacts me on Facebook. ‘Would I like to help her put her past behind her?’ she asks. She wants to set up a face-to-face. I have a wife, I have a kid. I say no thank you. ‘Counselor’ gets very frustrated and tells me I’m a terrible person.

2013 – Jen commits suicide by jumping off a cliff somewhere in Arizona. Her body is found months after the fact and identified by a wallet.

Part of me wonders what I did to cause this? I literally never did anything out of the ordinary or said anything out of the ordinary to her. I was her downstairs neighbor for a couple of months by the time this started – and it caused over a decade of fixation. Mental illness is a hell of a thing.”

What, You Don’t Think A Boiling Oil Enema Sounds Sexy?
“I’m a pretty easy-going guy and make friends easily. There was a 45-55-year-old woman that got friendly with me and would talk with me almost daily at lunch. She said some pretty odd stuff at times…

For instance one day she told me she murdered a man. Totally seriously and dead pan delivery. I really didn’t know what to say and probably made the mistake of continuing speaking to her asking her questions about why the f*ck she killed someone and how. I didn’t believe her. Well, basically she told me that it was her ex-husband and he was abusive to her and she killed him with a shovel and buried him in the woods. She claimed no one ever found his body.. Weird right? F*cking threw me for a loop.

About two sentences later she tells me, ‘I want to take you home, tie you upside down between two metal poles and pour hot oil up your ass.’

It made me so uncomfortable hearing this… needless to say when I told my girl what happened she refused to let me keep working there.

A Violent Nose Lick Shows The Most Affection, Right?
“I was having lunch with a couple of friends when a woman my mother’s age sat down next to me at our table and started rambling about how beautiful she thought my face was. I was weirded out but flattered until she asked me if she could touch my face. She claimed to be a sculptor. She said it would help her recreating my face for an art piece she was doing. I told her no, but she proceeded to grope my face anyway. My friends [burst] out in hysterical laughter as I was trying to get her off of me.

Suddenly she started to violently lick my nose and trying to tongue f*ck me in my nostrils. This is when a waiter pulled her off me and dragged her out of the restaurant. She waited for me outside in her car, took a picture of me when I left the restaurant over an hour later, and quickly drove off.”

A Fairy Creeper
“There was this girl, we’ll call her Cherry, I was in a dance class with. Very attractive, lots of tattoos, incredibly flirty, but she had a boyfriend so I brushed it off.

Well, the story starts when I broke her boyfriend’s ribs (by accident). She starts texting me later saying she thought it was super hot (should’ve been the first clue). We start texting back and forth, it’s getting more aggressive. Then I find out they’re in an open relationship and she has permission from her boyfriend to do whatever with me. Weird, but being a 20-something guy I’m okay with it.

So we’re fooling around for a few weeks and it starts becoming clear that something weird is going on. I came home a few times to find Cherry and her boyfriend drunk on my porch writing me weird love notes.

Then one night she’s trying to get me to go to her boyfriend’s birthday party. I had other plans so I just said no but she was being very persistent. I go do my thing, ignore her texts, go home and pass out around 1am.

I wake up around five am and there’s someone standing at the foot of my bed. I can see the outline of fairy wings. At first I think I’m hallucinating but then the figure moves a little. Obviously it’s Cherry. She had decided to come to see why I had stopped responding and climbed up into my second-story bathroom window. wtf possesses someone to do that?!?

I escorted her out of the house, double and triple checked that every door and window was locked, and never talked to her again. Luckily I also moved halfway across the country later that week. Crazy fairy girl with boyfriend climbs into my second story bathroom window at five am to find out why I stopped responding to texts.”

Just Show Up On My Doorstep, Why Don’t You
“A girl I knew from the class got my phone number somehow (I didn’t give it to her) and started texting me incessantly. Constantly asked to hang out, no matter what. Now, though I wasn’t particularly fond of her, I didn’t want to be rude, so I would make excuses. I once told her that I had lots of families over, so I was too busy to hang out with her.

10 minutes later I get a text. It was a picture. Of my empty driveway. At my house. She found out where I lived, drove to my house, and took a picture to prove that I was lying.

I came outside to tell her that I didn’t have time and that she should go home. She refused to accept that, going so far as to sit in front of my door, not allowing me to go back inside my own home.

I walked around the house, went in a back door, and texted her that I never wanted her to contact me again.

She sat there for about 20 minutes before she left.”

One Day Feels Like A Lifetime When I’m With You
“This happened when I was 16.

I worked at a grocery store and on my first day on the job this girl, who I only said three sentences to handed me a note before she left for the day and told me not to read it until she was gone.

Well, I thought a note was a bit weird since that was grade school stuff but whatever. I open the note and it says things like:

‘I love you, I want to be with you, we need to have children together even though we’re both only teenagers’ and it just prattled on and on. My overly attached girlfriend has nothing on this chick.

So the next day at work she asks sheepishly if I’ve read her note and I said yes but I wasn’t really looking for a relationship at the time. Her face lost all expression for a second and then she smiled and said something to the effect of ‘No worries, I thought I’d try’ and we continued on working.

That night, when I left work there were about 50 notes taped to my Jeep. LONG notes too! I have no clue how she wrote this much in a day. The notes said things like ‘I hate you you’re a fucking asshole I hope you die’ and other notes said things like ‘I’m sorry for writing that note that called you an asshole. I really like you and want to be with you ❤ ❤ <3’

She would then try luring me with innuendos. When she was on her lunch break she would do things like buy these huge dill pickles that we sold (making sure to come through my line) and say things like ‘Do you think this pickle is for lunch or personal pleasure?’ gag

She would also still put notes all over my Jeep. Eventually, after a few months, she lost interest in me and started chasing a new guy that started.”

Creepy Stranger On A Train
“I’m on the train. This girl behind me is having the most boring phone conversation I’ve ever heard. Some guy she thinks is cute or something. I keep listening though, mostly because she’s too loud to block out… And things get weird. The guy she’s describing sounds pretty physically identical to me.

So I turn around, and this girl says ‘Oh. He’s looking at me now. I wonder what he’ll do. I wonder if he likes me.’

She also DOESN’T HAVE A F*CKING PHONE.

Yeah, I got off at the next stop and put a whole train between me and that weirdo.”

This Guy Survived An Attempted Kidnapping By A Girl

“When I was at a party a few years ago, it was right after I’d had a fight with my then-girlfriend and I was drinking kind of heavily (I’m generally a heavyweight but I was drinking a lot and fast). This one girl was constantly around me all night and I was warned by a couple of people that she was going to hit on me. Whatever I can deal with it. She was flirting with me a little bit and I made sure to add my girlfriend to the conversation topic so there was no misunderstanding. Didn’t matter. Every time I went to talk to someone else I would feel a small butt grab, and when I looked around she was backing up giggling. Once it started getting not-so-lightly I straight up told her to stop, I had a girlfriend.

Anyway later in the night when I was significantly drunk I was sitting down on a chair while most people were off in another room doing something else. Well, she comes in and I guess decides this is the perfect chance. She sits on my lap and starts trying to kiss me and every time I move away she bites my neck. She starts to grab at my crotch too, and even after I hit her hand away it goes right back (remember I’m significantly drunk so not all my coordination is all there).

The last thing I remember is trying to get up to get her off my lap and then I wake up the next morning in a friend of mine’s room on the floor (one of the hosts). I walk out and ask her what happened and she told me the girl was trying to walk me out of the door, telling the others she was just taking me back to ‘take care of me’ at her apartment. My friend said no dice and locked me in her room (while checking on me relatively often) so that the girl couldn’t sneak in and try anything. The girl apparently got very upset when this happened and stormed out.”

A Stranger’s Armpit By Any Other Girl Wouldn’t Smell As Sweet
“As you can imagine, the subway was used by everyone and it’s always packed. Like a permanent peak hour. I’m tall and skinny so I don’t take much space and always manage to get in. So the train arrives, I get in…

A girl ends up between me and the [door]. I always take care of not rubbing other people but it was very packed. I was wearing a shirt with rolled-up sleeves and nice cologne girls said it smelled good on me before.

So the girl was facing forward with me behind her with my extended arm next to her. Then she puts her face next to my forearm but I think nothing of it since there was no free space to move around.

This is where things get weird. The girl turns her head towards my arm and starts vigorously sniffing my forearm. Like she is tasting my skin and the cologne through her nostrils. I freak out a little but say nothing, after all, there is nowhere I can go and it would just make things weirder.

I get off the train in the next station while wiping her nasal mucus off my arm and wondering wtf just happened.  A crazy woman sniffs imaginary lines of coke from my forearm on the subway.”

Microbiology Class Is A Petri Dish Of Oddities
I dunno if she suffered from 2edgy4uitis or what, but I sat behind the creepiest chick in my Microbiology class. Some of her greatest hits include:

Invading people’s personal space and softly growling.

Disrupting lectures with anecdotes completely unrelated to Microbiology. For example, she interrupted our professor discussing necrotizing fasciitis to talk about her fanfiction.

Began wearing cat ears and this tail thing and meowing at people.

Wore a bazillion bracelets on each arm because ‘they cover up all my scars. People can’t handle me.’

Licked a petri dish that had strep culturing and then claimed she got cancer.

She also smelled like she had never bathed or showered. A musty, nauseating aroma of bo, rancid vag and unwashed ass.

When confronted about her weirdness or when told to knock her behavior off, she would start breathing hard and saying, ‘I’m so triggered by this.’

There’s more if anyone is interested.”

More tomorrow!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

You can check out my books here: https://www.amazon.com/s?k=charles+wiedenmann&ref=nb_sb_noss_1

Hunt’s Pier – Chapter 7 – Secret Admirer

Wildwood, New Jersey – Summer – 1980

As I walked up the ramp to the boardwalk, to make the short walk in the golden late afternoon sun down to Hunt’s Pier. I thought about how different my life was now. I had come so far from the world I lived in back in Fel’s Junior High.

Can you imagine being equal to the Golem in Lord of the Rings? That’s how I felt in Junior High School. It was a terrible place for me to go every day. Everything was against me. My face, my mind, my body, my parents, my sisters, the faculty, the kids, the bullies at school, and everywhere around me. I was a thing I didn’t understand. I only knew a small part of how I worked. Just basic functions. I was a disaster.

All of the ways I could describe myself back then. Greasy hair, pimples all over my face, chest, and back. No athletic ability. Bad grades. braces. glasses. weird clothes. I should have just put a potato sack over my head and spray painted a target on it because that’s what I was. An easy target for scorn and cruelty. I brought nothing to the table. I felt like an absolute failure in the house of my life, and I had no keys to any of the locks that held the doors to everything I wanted. I wanted it so much, but none of it was for people like me.

Ugly. A failure as a person already. Not even 14 and I hate my life and who I am already. Everything is wrong with me.

I remember this pretty girl in my art class I liked. I didn’t know how to talk to her, or what to say. She was making some lam picture and kept hitting the paper with a crayon. I asked her about her work.

“Why do you have so many dots on that?”

“Why do you have so many zits on your face?”

How could a child be that cruel to another one? I didn’t even know her. I was just a slug, a nothing, scuttling along through the hallways of this prison. This act of cruelty had to have somehow been learned. How could a girl that pretty have such ugly things come out of her mouth?

She was beautiful, but ugly on the inside, already. I was ugly on the outside but I would never hurt anyone like that. But that was back in 1977.

It was now 1980.

I graduated from Wildwood High with second honors after spending my senior year in a strange school in a dark cold town that I was dropped off in by my father. Ripped from Frankford High, a school I liked with teachers and kids I could connect with. I was a singer in a rock band in Philly. But now I was a guitarist in a band here in Wildwood. I was left here to squirm and perish, but I thrived. How about that?

Anxiety? Depression? Stranger in a strange land? Wildwood in the winter? Awful. But we all adjusted and made the best of it. I know I made the best of it. I conquered Wildwood.

I was no longer the 14-year-old mess. But I’ll never forget him. He has his place in my past, but I’m no longer chained to him.

Pictured: Vince Kostek

I remember coming onto the pier one night at the beginning of my shift and Vince the manager handed me an envelope.

“Hey. This came for you today, handsome.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a letter addressed to you, and based on that lipstick kiss on the back I’m assuming it’s from some young lady.”

“Umm… okay, thanks.”

“Are you having your fan mail sent to the pier now, Sport?”

I later read that letter and made the connection to the postcard that was dropped off at my ride the other day.

What an elegant gesture. Honest and beautiful. I was honored and in awe. So sweet. Fragile. Bold. Heartbreakingly beautiful. Feels like something that only happens in a movie. But it was real. It was real and it was happening to me. In my life.

The lame cub of the litter…

Now a lion.

I had finally arrived.

All of the money in the world can’t buy a minute of time, and it certainly can’t buy what Gail did for me that day.

If anyone reading this recognizes Gail or knows her from PA, give her my contact info on here, I’d love to chat with her and thank her for her sweet letter. If we had met back then, I would have been honored to take her out on a proper date!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Footnote: In 1983 when I was in Los Angeles, California I was hanging out in my apartment in Mar Vista one night and I called the number that Gail had written in her letter.

She was surprised and happy to hear from me. But she told me she had heard from a “friend” of mine some years ago and he told her that I was a womanizer and a horrible person in an attempt to destroy her image of me. He was basically describing himself to her which is the ultimate irony.

I had shown the letter to this individual back in 1980 when I originally got it. He had been jealous of me since 1977 and didn’t like the idea of me getting adoration from women. He had peaked in 9th grade and although a bright kid, was a social failure and a pathological liar. Gail told me his name and it really showed me what a truly awful person he was. She told me she never believed a word he said, so his little scheme against me was just another one of his many failures.

I don’t speak to this person anymore and want nothing to do with such a toxic person. But what a sad and mean-spirited thing to do to one of your so-called friends just to make yourself feel better about your own pathetic life. A thief and a liar. That’s what he is.

Even though we hung out a lot back in the 70s, I’ve vowed to never write about him in this blog and will only refer to him as “the neighbor” or “the kid next door” because his existence in my history doesn’t warrant giving him any sort of life in this forum or anywhere else.

The best part is, when I leave this world I’ll leave a rich legacy of wonderful memories with so many great friends, lovers, and family. He, on the other hand, leaves only a trail of bad memories strung together by lies and betrayal.

Like Iago in Othello, he poses as a friend but willfully with premeditation, a clear understanding of their actions, the weight of their consequence, commits injury anyway. 

Just a rotten human being that could have achieved greatness due to his incredible intellect, but instead chose the path of sloth and malice.

Although forgiven, I will never dignify his existence by ever writing about him.

5 Smart Ways to Ask a Girl For Her Number (Without Sounding Creepy)

It’s a tricky business, isn’t it? Read on to find out how to get her number like a gentleman.

You know this woman. You like this lady. If you could, you’d send her cute puppy emojis all day long. Haven’t all of us been there? But here’s the thing: you don’t have her number. More importantly, you feel like it’s holding you back. If you could just have her number, you could make her see the charming person that you really are, and – in no time – you two would be going on dates, making love, and planning the names of the kids to come! But how to ask a girl for her number without sounding creepy? There are indeed smart ways to do that.

Okay, that might’ve been a stretch. But the point is that this distance of 10 digits is considered something that can make or break a potential relationship. Oh, and the dreaded question: “What if I come off as a creep?” Gentlemen, we have good news and bad news. The good news is that it’s actually not that difficult to ask a woman for her number. The bad news is that most of us have been terrible at something so simple, and that, coupled with the rampant abuse and harassment that women face because of men on a daily basis, has compromised their faith in us. Here are five enlightening points that’ll make your life easier!

5 Smart ways to ask a girl’s number

No really you don’t have to give the creepy vibes, or make yourself look like the stalker if you know the right way to ask her number.

1. Don’t try to use obligation

be cool about her decision of giving number or not
Don’t become aggressive to get a girl’s number Image source

All of us know at least one person like this. This is the ‘good guy’. This is the guy who, after a breakup, lists the number of things that he had done for his partner, cries about how ‘ungrateful’ she had been. To him, love is a bunch of business transactions! This is also the guy who will do the woman a number of favors before asking her for her number. And in case of failure, this specimen scurries along to his friends with more tales of ungrateful women! If you’re going to be a gentleman about it, never use obligation as a means to get her number.

2. Don’t go for her friends

If a woman had a rupee for every time some guy resorted to this method, she’d be a millionaire. From teenagers in tuition classes to adults in the workplace, getting a woman’s number from people who already have it is the most popular way to go about it. It’s also downright creepy, so don’t be surprised if she seenzones or blocks you. If you’re looking for her number, it might be tempting to get it from that male friend who already has it, but trust us: it will pass! Moreover, would you want the easy way to blow the chance of being with her that you might have had otherwise?

3. About WhatsApp groups

try to start a conversation not just saying hey
Being different from the crowd while messaging her Image source

Whether your daily routine takes you to classrooms or to offices, chances are that you’re a member of a WhatsApp group. And what if the woman you’re dying to talk to is part of the same group? It might be tempting, but don’t act on it just yet! Ask yourself if you know this woman, and if you do, do you know her well enough to approach her? Considering the fact that she gets countless messages every day from creepy men all around the country, you wouldn’t want your ‘Hey’s and ‘Hi’s to add to the problem! While there is no strict set of rules regarding this, ask permission before you talk to her, and always, always be polite!

4. Don’t be clingy

Take it from us. If she wants to give you her phone number, she will!

If she wants to give you her phone number, she will!

When asking for her number, slip your question in very casually between sentences. If she’s promised you her number but hasn’t sent it yet, give it time before you turn up your sad music! Reminding her every day is only going to make it worse, and, for all you know, kill whatever chances you might have had of getting it!

5. Be straightforward

be straightforward in asking girl number
Just be straightforward Image source

You might be thinking to yourself that this is the most obvious and intimidating way to go about it. But instead of coming up with an excuse to get her to give you her number, why not be honest? In this world of nameless and faceless Facebook profiles badgering women for their numbers, being straightforward has become a thing of the past. Instead, walk over to her, tell her how you feel, and be your most polite self when asking her if she’d mind giving you her number. Making the effort to have a conversation in person and not on some chatbox lets you stand out from the crowd. However, if she doesn’t know you, chances are that she’ll feel uncomfortable, and we couldn’t blame her. Note that interesting conversations and a foundation of trust can tip the scales in your favor!

The possibility of rejection is what keeps most people from asking a woman for her number. And while there’s no fail-proof way to go about it, follow these tips, and you won’t be deemed a creep!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Tales of Rock – What was the Deal with Oingo Boingo’s ‘Little Girls’? Still the Creepiest Music Video of all Time.

In these hypersensitive times, even a controversial music video as artful as Sia’s ‘Elastic Heart’, which saw Shia LaBeouf wrestle in a brotherly way with dancer Maddie Ziegler, will lead to a full apology from the artist. But back in 1981, Grammy-winning composer Danny Elfman was manifesting unhinged visions no-one would dare post online in 2016.

At the time, he was part of new wave band Oingo Boingo, whose album Only a Lad and specifically the song ‘Little Girls’ has become a persistent internet oddity, racking up over 6 million YouTube views.

If you’ve never seen it/had it burned into your memory, watch it at your peril now:

 

Slightly mortified? Sorry. With lines like “They don’t care about my one-way mirror / They’re not frightened by my cold exterior” and the (hideously catchy) chorus hook, it’s a pretty disturbing song and video, imagining a predator living in a house seemingly designed by M.C. Escher and inhabited by voyeuristic dwarves in smart-casual attire. Several little girls visit, pillow fighting with the character, restraining him, kissing him and floating in some kind of void.

Was it some kind of Nabokovian exploration of paedophilia? Elfman was asked about the video at Comic Con in 2010.

HE SAID:

“What made me write it? At that point I was just grabbing onto things that popped up in my head and taking characters and singing from their point of view. So whether it be the right wing guy talking about capitalism or the feisty little girl or quasi molester – these were just things that I thought were funny or interesting and I would just kind of jump into the skin of. Often things I wrote were motivated by nothing but the newspaper. I’d read an article and be thinking about something and write a song from that perspective. So it didn’t necessarily reflect me…but it was just fun and I knew it was irreverent. I was out to offend everybody when I started out. Any subject matter I could find that would be offensive I was embracing, so that was just one.”

Elfman, who won a Grammy for the Batman score and an Emmy for Desperate Housewives’, doubled down on this in 2014 when he told The AV Club it wasn’t so much about writing “from the perspective of a paedophile” but dishing out an “in-your-face facetious jab”.

Only A Lad critiqued capitalism, but he also wanted to provoke the outraged left.

“I just basically make fun of everybody, and I didn’t see anybody as being protected from that,” he added.

“So even if my politics were left, I still would really mock political correctness and kind of organized left-wing politics as frequently as I would the right.

 

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10 Signs She’s A High Maintenance Girl

If you are dating a high maintenance girl, picture yourself as the character Rajat in the movie Pyaar Ka Punchnama. Dating a high maintenance girl might not seem that big a deal at first but will become a huge ordeal as the relationship matures. If your girlfriend leaves a big hole in your pocket whenever you take her out on a date, you have a high maintenance girlfriend. Having a high maintenance girl as your girlfriend can suck the life out of you and when you realize it, it’s too late. If you are someone who lives a low maintenance life, you need to look out for the red flags indicating you have a high maintenance girlfriend and avoid a high maintenance woman.

10 Signs She Is A High Maintenance Girl

To begin with, a “high maintenance girl” meaning: A high maintenance girl is someone who has high standards with respect to almost everything, such as expectations, need for love and attention, etc. Sometimes high maintenance is mistaken for being materialistic. Materialistic solely has to do with money or material possessions. High maintenance can be related to anything, it can be materialistic, emotional or anything else. A high maintenance girl is never satisfied with anything. If you have to keep proving to your girlfriend that you are worthy of her love, you’ve got yourself a high maintenance girlfriend. Here are 10 signs she is a high maintenance girlfriend.

1. She is self-obsessed

She is self obsessed
All that your girlfriend cares about is her appearance and what others think about her. She will always keep asking you if she is looking okay and if her friends will get jealous when they see her. Though this might seem harmless at first, it will become intolerable when all she is bothered about is her appearance and her needs. When everything in the relationship is about her, she will make you feel like a puppy chasing her around. She will refuse to go on camping trips or family get-togethers because it doesn’t fit with her priorities. She won’t do things she doesn’t like, even if that activity makes you happy.

2. She criticizes your dressing style

Girls who are high maintenance are very conscious about their looks and their image in front of others. She will want you to match up to her standard to impress others. She wants to flaunt you in front of her friends and will want you to dress according to her standard when you are meeting her friends. She will make you feel like a trophy boyfriend in front of her friends.

3. She makes you do her chores

She has the habit of bossing everyone around and bosses you around too. She makes you do her chores like pick up the dry cleaning, pick up her clothes from the store, feed the dog, etc. asking for favours once in a while is normal but if she makes you do her chores almost every day, you’re not her boyfriend but her personal assistant.

4. She takes ages to get ready

She is always late
She is never on time at any event. Imagine telling her to meet you at 7:00 p.m., when you call her at 7, she says that she is still not done styling her hair. She takes hours and hours when it comes to getting dressed and you always have to tell her an earlier time for her to come on time. If this is not a sign of a high maintenance girlfriend, then what is!

5. It’s not easy to please her

Imagine yourself planning a perfect date for her. When she comes for the date, instead of being happy she will start cringing and start complaining about everything. She won’t acknowledge the effort that you put into planning the date for her, but will criticize you for not knowing where to take her for a date.

Such people only like their own suggestions and trying to be innovative or do something out of the box for them will only make her criticize you more.

6. She tells you what to do

A relationship involves both people making decisions together about the relationship and other things. In your case, she is the one telling you what to do. She chooses the high-end bar that you should be seen in with your friends, or tells you to hang out at an upmarket club and gets upset if you have friends who do not fit her bill of “successful people”. She will boss you around as if she owns you.

7. She tells you what to buy her

She controls your shopping

Sometimes, men are confused into what to buy their girlfriend and end up buying the worst of gifts for their girlfriends. Sometimes girlfriends give a hint to their boyfriend as to what to buy them. Giving subtle hints is harmless but what if your girlfriend gives you a list of things to buy her and acts surprised when you get them for her? What about the times when she tells you to buy her expensive gifts even though it’s out of your budget?

8. She wants you to be her personal chauffer

She will always want you to pick up and drop her whenever you meet her. As cute as it might sound, it’s not possible to pick her and drop her every time you meet her. It becomes tiresome and expensive especially when you both live quite far from each other but she isn’t willing to understand the situation. When you talk to her about it, she will make it all emotional and you have no other choice but to give in.

9. Materialistic things make her happy

Materialistic refers to physical or material possessions. Your girlfriend feels happy only when you buy her expensive gifts and will show more love to you. Feelings, emotions and love don’t matter much to her as much as materialistic things do. Sometimes you feel that you need to keep buying her expensive things to earn her love. Ask yourself, is she with you because she loves you or because of the gifts you buy her?

10. She picks fancy restaurants and makes you pay all the time

She prefers expensive dates
She is used to a lavish lifestyle and wants you to go along with it. To make things worse, she makes you pay for all these expensive dates. If not all the time, she makes you pay most of the time. No matter who is earning more here, it should be the responsibility of both the partners to share the cost or to take turns to pay. If she’s making you pay all the time, it is because she is used to other people paying for her and she wants it to continue.

If you see your girlfriend in these signs, then it’s your call whether you want to avoid her or be in a relationship that sucks the life out of you. Just remember, how you feel being criticized and bossed around constantly. Remember what the true meaning of a relationship is and how it feels to be acknowledged by your partner and taking decisions together. If you still have doubts, watch the movie Pyaar ka Punchnama and you’ll know for sure what to do.

 

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Why Are Some Men Obsessed With Barely Legal Girls?

When I was young and received unfettered access to a computer, I looked up porn out of curiosity. The most fascinating part was the category “barely legal” and how… popular it was. Women around my age or slightly older depicted as some kind of sexual prize. As a developing person, and thus with many questions about their sexuality, the sorts of scenarios that played out on the screen that afternoon confused me.

Did girls my age (or older) really behave like that? Was this normal? Should I feel that way? Act that way? Is this why my parents became more concerned the older I got? If a boy came onto me in such a manner, should I respond like that? Finally, I clicked off, erased my search history, and tried to put the matter out of my mind completely.

The way that some men obsess with barely legal girls has confused me for a long time. Perhaps I would have felt less uncomfortable if I had more comprehensive and accurate information about sex. Or, if I had parents who would have frank discussions with me. Neither of those scenarios happened.

Instead, we made condom balloons in sex ed classes and laughed at naked scenes in movies at school. Moreover, we would also watch classmates spend the weekend with their 30-year-old “boyfriends.” (As if that was a normal thing to do.) Hence, I did not fully grasp the extent of the problem until I came across the following quote:

“She informed me, matter-of-factly, that she was old enough to know the difference between intriguing and fucked up. “You should go for younger women,” she advised me. “They can’t always tell.”

― Tana French, In the Woods

Then, things started to fall a lot more in place after this quote sunk in.

I had always entertained wildly romantic notions of love — notions that I tended to keep behind a smokescreen of snark and violence. Moreover, I assumed that my partner would be someone who would treat me with respect, care about my boundaries, and see me as an equal (otherwise, why bother?). I wondered why certain boys my age, and even some older men, treated me as an alien, sometimes to the point of abuse. I asked myself if maybe I was the problem if I was expecting too much. Nevertheless, turns out, I was not expecting too much — they just wanted to give too little.

Some men’s obsession with “barely legal” girls is based on misogyny, pure and simple. They want to see us as fragile little flowers, while they get away with all sorts of shit. Young women with no idea what relationships are like will put up with all sorts of abuse. Grown women are terrifying to these abusers in comparison, and for good reasons.

Grown women don’t accept wishy-washiness about condoms and STI-testing. And they never will.

Grown women don’t put up with bullshit like cheating or ghosting. Period.

Grown women are not afraid to dump you on your ass if you don’t treat them like queens.

Barely legal girls are still children. Some men can take advantage of them and make them comply easily. Some men can convince them to do what they want, and not hear a peep. If those girls are afraid or sad or unhappy, they may just convince themselves they are not working hard enough. That’s attractive to certain men – this vulnerability, the lack of experience. It’s disgusting, but it’s also true.

Society talks a lot about girls growing up too fast today. However, there is something to be said about women stepping into their own power and responsibility sooner than our mothers or grandmothers. We are here. We are strong. And we are more than just some porn category to jerk off to.

And we are not sitting down anytime soon.

 

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Tales of Rock – Pajama Party with Elvis!

Barbara Hearn, a dark-haired Memphis beauty he had known casually for years, was one of the young women he dated that year. Decades later, Barbara still spoke fondly of their time together, despite the heavy competition for Elvis’ attention. “My husband tells everybody that Elvis and I dated steadily for a year. And I say, ‘No. I dated him steadily for a year. He didn’t date anybody steadily for more than 15 minutes.’”

Barbara never asked him about all the other women in his life, but she suspected that he divided them into “good girls” and “road girls,” the latter of whom were fair game and didn’t mean anything beyond the moment. “He was very, very respectful to women. If you could see how he treated me, my mother, his own mom, his grandmother—we were people he cared about. The ones who went backstage were in a different category. They were fans.”

ON APRIL 15, 1956, Elvis, billed as “the Nation’s Only Atomic-Powered Singer,” played the Municipal Auditorium in San Antonio. There to meet him was Kay Wheeler, the virginal 17-year-old president of the first national Elvis Presley fan club. Kay was in something of a teenage haze. A year earlier, she hadn’t even been able to find a picture of Elvis. But by early 1956, working from her Dallas home and aided by two sisters, she had built the club into more than 20,000 members, each of whom received a large autographed photo of Elvis, a “Presley pink” membership card, and a four-page monthly newsletter. Kay was as atomic-powered as the object of her affections, and only Col. Tom Parker, Elvis’ manager, matched her devotion and energy in promoting Elvis into a major heartthrob.

At the beginning of April, Kay had received a letter from Parker’s secretary telling her that Elvis would be on tour in Texas, and inviting her to attend the kickoff show in San Antonio. When the big day came, she chose a clinging sheath dress, dangly pearl earrings, and a pair of spike heels. Then she boarded a Greyhound bus for a 270-mile ride that would mark her first trip away from home. When she arrived at the auditorium, she flashed a telegram from Col. Parker, and was waved through by a guard. Backstage, Parker’s second in command, Tom Diskin, pointed to an unmarked door and said, “Elvis is in his dressing room. Just go on in.”

Elvis was sitting in front of a mirror, smoothing down his dark-blond ducktail, and he turned to look over his shoulder at her. Kay’s knees went wobbly. “Hi, Elvis,” she managed. “I’m Kay Wheeler, the president of your fan club.” “My fan club president?” he asked. He seemed surprised. Kay thought he knew she was coming, but there wasn’t time to think about that now, because the 21-year-old singer had on a blue satin shirt that matched his eyes, and there was a mischievous grin on his face. “If any man ever stepped out of a dream,” she thought, “it was Elvis Presley.”

Elvis stood and walked toward her, staring. The room began swirling, but she could see he was still smiling, and she thought he was about to say something. Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders, and then began following her curves. He slid his hands up over her hips, then moved his fingers to her waist, and nearly up to her breasts. Finally, he spoke: “Is all this really you?”

“He pretty much groped me,” she recalls. “I was overwhelmed. He came on like Godzilla.”

Kay stepped back until his hands dropped away, and then they were both embarrassed. “Gee,” she murmured. Just about then, the door opened, and in came a gaggle of reporters to ask him questions. Kay stood back and watched. Then, in the middle of the interview, Elvis motioned for her to come over. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her, turned her around, and pulled her toward him until her back was pressed up against him. He folded her into his arms and kissed the side of her face as photographers snapped away. Kay couldn’t believe what was happening. “He should have been under freaking arrest. He’s feeling me up in that picture. Those are some of the most blatantly sensual poses that I’ve ever seen him in with a girl.”

Just before going onstage, he kissed Kay passionately, pushing against her in a way no boy had done before. Then he launched into the first of two shows before 6,000 deafening fans.

ALREADY, ELVIS’ REPUTATION as a sex symbol was becoming a burden. Some years later, in the 1960s, he would tell Larry Geller, a member of his entourage, that in the early days of his fame he had relations with so many women that he was hospitalized for exhaustion. Whether that was the reason behind a 1955 hospital visit in Jacksonville, Fla., isn’t known. But according to Geller, the experience chastened Elvis. Elvis’ sex-god label also seemed to hamper him psychologically. Women assumed, from his image and his movements onstage, that he was a lover of legendary proportions. But he was insecure about his sexual prowess, fearing that he might not measure up in bed to women’s expectations. This was a factor is his gravitation toward 13- and 14-year-old girls. Young teens were likely to be satisfied simply to make out—precisely where Elvis felt most at ease.

Sometime in the fall of 1956, Elvis’ father, Vernon, was visiting a Memphis Oldsmobile dealership where the family often had their cars repaired, when the owner, a man named Mowel, asked if his 14-year-old daughter, Gloria, could meet Elvis. Vernon Presley said that was ?ne, and for Gloria to come on over anytime.

On Oct. 11, Gloria showed up at the tidy one-story ranch house on Audubon Drive that Elvis had bought for his family in the spring. She was shocked to see Elvis answer the door himself.

Gloria was cute, sweet, and personable, and she knew music—she identified “Ruby, Baby,” a recent hit by the Drifters, whom Elvis loved, playing on the phonograph in the den. So after her visit, Elvis invited her back another day. Soon, she was taking her friends Heidi Heissen and Frances Forbes, who were also 14, and Elvis began asking them over for evening swims at the house, or just to watch TV. Frances, a petite, dark-haired beauty, had been hanging out by the gate of the house since she was 13. “He didn’t pay any attention to me then, but when I was 14, he noticed me. Fourteen was a magical age with Elvis. It really was.”

Fanatical in their devotion, the three girls followed Elvis everywhere he went in Memphis. Elvis had an easy rapport with the trio and felt as if he could ask them what the other kids were saying about him and his music. They were his local contacts with the larger fan base, but it went deeper than that. “He was fascinated with them,” said Lamar Fike, an aspiring deejay who was starting to integrate himself into Elvis’ entourage. In no time, Elvis was inviting the girls to go to a local roller-skating rink, and by 1957, they became his constant companions, part of the group that went to the nearby Mid-South Fairgrounds to crash into one another in the dodge-’em cars and eat endless Pronto Pups. “They were just as nutty as fruitcakes, but they were fun,” Fike remembers. “All three of them were pretty cute girls.”

As Elvis’ attraction to the girls grew, they started staying for private pajama parties—just 14-year-old Heidi, Gloria, Frances, and their 22-year-old host, holed up in his bedroom, a pale-yellow room equipped with a selection of pink stuffed animals. Elvis didn’t seem to mind that his mother had chosen such a girlish motif. “When you were in that room,” says Gloria, “you wanted to shut out the whole world for the rest of your life.”

In an odd suspension of time and gender, Elvis became not only their age but also a teenage girl. After swims in the Presleys’ pool, he’d wash and dry their hair, and they’d blow his hair dry, too. He’d tease them, say to Gloria, “Frances was jealous tonight because I was throwing you in the pool!” Then they’d all giggle, and he’d show them how to put makeup on their eyes the way he liked it, heavy on the shadow and mascara. Sometimes he’d apply the eyeliner himself. Then they’d lie on the beds and roughhouse and have pillow ?ghts, Elvis tickling and kissing them until they couldn’t take it anymore.

The girls insisted that nothing overtly sexual happened inside Elvis’ pastel lair, though it came close on occasion, as Gloria later remembered. “We’d tickle, ?ght, laugh, mess around, but all you’d have to say is, ‘Stop!’, and he’d roll over and quit. It would never be mentioned again that night. But next time, it would be the same thing exactly. You’d ?ght with him, kid around, and scuf?e. The next thing, he’d get serious and you’d just push him away. I think that if he really pushed, I would have done it.”

No matter how Elvis rationalized his interest in mentoring young girls, the relationship contained a strong erotic element. Elvis and the girls would sit on the bed yoga-style, with Elvis in the middle, and he’d kiss each one. “Gloria is jealous ’cause I kissed Frances,” he’d say, and then turn it around: “Frances is jealous ’cause I kissed Heidi.” Eventually, they’d tire of it all, and Elvis would turn out the light, lying with an arm around two of them, with the third girl stretched out across his feet. “Elvis was always kissing,” says Frances, “and it was a good kiss, a real good one. He might be doing anything—playing pool, anything—he’d walk up and kiss you, or he might turn his cheek for you to kiss him. He was especially romantic when it was just you and him. He might talk to you about things that bothered him, and just like teenagers, you’d neck a little bit. Elvis was like a teenager somewhat—the things we did were things that kids do. They really were all very innocent.”

Heidi, Gloria, and Frances were always the last fans to leave Audubon Drive. At 3 or 4 in the morning, Elvis would sit up and kiss each girl and say, “I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fike would drive the girls home, and they’d catch a few hours of sleep before getting up and going to junior high. “The amazing thing is that I never had one problem with any of the parents,” Fike says. “Not ever. It was something I assumed would not happen, and it didn’t.”

Elvis didn’t want his mother to know they stayed so late, and before Gladys Presley got up, they were out and gone. But chances are she was aware that they were there, and she probably didn’t mind. Gladys knew that Elvis, a boy-man, was looking for a child-woman he could mold into his idea of a perfect mate. Fourteen-year-olds were just the right age, as they allowed him to play the role of the older man who would teach them about life. If he could ?nd one who had his mother’s coloring, who shared her values, and who also somehow felt like his twin soul, she would hold him captive.

His friendship with the trio of Memphis teenagers lasted through the early 1960s, about the time he met 14-year-old Priscilla Beaulieu, his future wife.

If you’ve been following Tales of Rock in this blog and you’ve read about all of Elvis’ dalliances with underage girls, you’ll find this video especially filthy.

I can’t believe I found this…

My God. Listen to the lyrics! Who the hell wrote and approved this???

 

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Tales of Rock – Lori Maddox

“Lori Maddox was obsessed with sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and they were just as obsessed with her – despite the fact that she was just 14 years old.”

In 1970s Las Vegas, you were hard-pressed to find someone who wasn’t either a groupie or someone who wanted to be.

The lifestyle was one people fantasized about, leaving home, living on busses, following legendary rock stars from city to city and getting just the faintest glimpse into their lavish lifestyles. Not everyone could handle it, and those who could became almost as famous as the stars. One, in particular, was Lori Maddox.

The only problem? Lori Maddox was 14 years old.

Fresh out of junior high school, Maddox met Sable Starr, who became known as the “queen of the groupie scene.” Starr, also underage at the time, pulled Maddox into her seedy world of the after-hours parties on the Sunset Strip.

When Lori Maddox was just 15 years old, she met David Bowie.

She and Starr were at the E-Club, one of the nightclubs that dotted the strip and played host to rock stars, and turned a blind eye to drug use and girls that might not be of legal age. Bowie, eleven years her senior at the time, scared her at first. When asked about meeting Bowie, she described him as, “hair the color of carrots, no eyebrows, and the whitest skin imaginable.” She pretended she was with someone else to avoid going back to his hotel room with him.

By five months later, her fears had subsided, and she had lost her virginityto him.

When she wasn’t getting down and dirty with rockstars, Maddox could have been mistaken for any other teenage girl. During the week she went to school, lived at home with her mom, and hung out with her sisters.

On the weekends, she snuck out while her mom was at work, and frequented seedy nightclubs with much older men. Despite what seems like an obvious problem, Maddox never considered her lifestyle unusual. In fact, she reveled in it.

Not too long after her tryst with Bowie, Maddox got a phone call from Jimmy Page, guitarist and founder of Led Zeppelin, the biggest rock band in the world at the time. He invited her to his hotel and even sent a limo to collect her.

“I felt like I was being kidnapped,” she said. “I got taken into a room and there was Jimmy Page.”

If there were ever a time for it to click that her lifestyle was far from average, it should have been then, standing in the bedroom of a man quite literally double her age. But, despite the hostage-situation-like vibes, Lori Maddox didn’t run. Instead, she fell in love.

“It was perfect. He mesmerized me,” she said of the evening. “I fell in love instantly.”

Their relationship was secretive and tumultuous and constantly overshadowed by Maddox’s age. But, Page clearly didn’t care. As Maddox was underage she couldn’t travel state-to-state with the band in their jet, so she would sequester herself in Page’s hotel room, and wait for him to return. Eventually, her life outside of being a groupie began to suffer.

“My whole life was about waiting for Jimmy,” she said. “I tried going to high school, but I couldn’t concentrate. And after Jimmy Page and David Bowie, what was I going to do with a North Hollywood boy? I didn’t go to high school prom because I was too busy living the Hollywood prom.”

Then, suddenly, the fairy tale ended. As rock stars do, Jimmy Page eventually moved on, and one night after returning from a show, Maddox found him and Bebe Buell – eventual groupie/lover of Steven Tyler, and mother to his oldest daughter, Liv Tyler – in bed together. After that, her attitude changed. No longer was she there for love, she was there for fun.

Before she turned 18, Lori Madoxx would take shots with John Bonham, do several different drugs with Iggy Pop, have sex in a bathroom with Mick Jagger, and find herself in a bar fight between Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

Despite her foray into the illicit lifestyle of sex, drugs, and rock and roll all well before she reached adulthood, Maddox has no regrets. In fact, she says, she never felt better than she did all those years.

“I feel like I was very present,” she said. “I saw the greatest music ever. I got to hang out with some of the most amazing, most beautiful, most charismatic men in the world. I went to concerts in limos with police escorts. Am I going to regret this? No.”

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish everyday.

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