Thursday, January 22, 2009

a little less sixteen candles, a little more touch me..

this post is being co-brought to you by the guys who played some wind instrument and a tambourine in their offices today at work and the heater in my hotel room that makes popping noises similar to curtains being on fire..

before i start, i posted three different Men's Health articles/lists last night.. they're right below this post.. check 'em out..

watching "American Idol" in hotels is quickly becoming an annual event for me.. last year i was in Boston at the time of the season premiere, this year i'm in Chicago.. i love the tryout episodes where all the terrible singers come on and act like they're good but it's almost to the point where i think many of them are staged.. you can't sing that badly and legitimately think you're good enough to beat out thousands of other people.. if your family loved you, they'd tell you that.. case in point: last night, a girl came on and sang off-key and out of tune and did some gyrations that made me uncomfortable, and she was stunned when the judges said she was no good.. the new smoking hot judge (who's quickly becoming my soulmate, by the way) even asked her if it was a joke because she was voted "Most Humorous" in high school.. which caused her to cry.. and yes, it was humorous.. Simon compared her to a donkey.. harsh, but i saw how he got there.. when she left the room, she was consoled by her mom, then started singing again to the camera with mom dancing next to her like she wasn't fat.. then mom said "this is the next American Idol right here".. well, actually all four judges just said she can't sing and one compared her to a donkey.. i don't like her chances..

something else i've noticed from the show is that the people who can sing seem immensely cooler than the ones who can't.. i wonder if there's a connection here? i'd compare the bad singers to ugly girls.. both think they're better than they really are and can't get it through their head that everyone else in the world thinks differently.. and good singers have a casual, nonchalant way about themselves and seem surprised when the judges tell them they can sing.. kinda like attractive girls who don't believe you when you tell them that.. nevertheless, i look forward to "American Idol" Season 9 from somewhere in Delaware..

on the topic of music, i've been in Chicago four nights and i've woke up in the middle of the night with song ideas on two of them.. very weird for me.. lately, when i'm home, i've been trying to practice the guitar an hour every night so maybe my brain is just on music lately.. i also read an interview with Jack Johnson that said he does his best writing late at night after his kids go to bed.. being able to write songs is something i've always thought would be cool but obviously you have to have a knowledge of what chords sound good with other chords and how to get the right pattern, so basically it's just poems waiting for music at this point.. it's going to take me a long time to actually be good at playing, and i've never been good at singing but i'm not easily embarrassed and i'd only play at parties where people are drunk and won't care anyway..

i'll pay someone $3 million to teach me how to order food at a Mexican restaurant.. everything is in Spanish.. yes, i know what tacos, quesadillas, burritos, etc. are.. but what's with all the extra foreign words in the description? i'm almost positive everything has the same ingredients, it's just wrapped a different way.. and you can't just go to a restaurant and get a taco.. that's like going to a strip club and getting a lap dance from the girl you went to high school with, just because it's familiar, tastes good and seems to have had a breast enhancement..

the hotel i'm at has strategically placed mirrors all over the place.. a giant one sits over the sink, conveniently at the foot of the bed.. a full-length mirror is on the OUTSIDE of the bathroom door.. the entire elevator is a mirror.. these people are asking for sex in there.. where's the mirror on the ceiling over the bed for Christ's sake? or the sex swing? i should take the fox i saw in the fitness room into the elevator and press the button for every floor.. also, i've found that i can do things differently in a hotel than i can at home.. the other night, i did push ups in my underwear in the living room.. i've showered with the door open, mainly to watch "American Idol" on Tuesday night.. a few months ago, the lock on our upstairs bathroom was broken so we tore the entire knob off.. needless to say, when i'd go in to shower, one of my roommates would come in and toss an entire pot full of ice water on me.. not an issue in the hotel.. it's kinda lonely on the giant bed though.. wish i had my body pillow.. or a gal, i guess?

i'm happy to see the FinallyFast.com commercial isn't limited to Minnesota.. you know the one, some bitch can't get into her email because "it's not loading".. you know why it's not loading? cause you're not using a real fucking computer.. then some clown in a fluorescent green and white striped sweatshirt says "my computers fast! finally! FinallyFast.com!!", hoping he nails it in one take so he can get to his night job at TGI Fridays.. how can a commercial that obviously cost $45 to make be aired every 15 minutes? sounds shady if you ask me..

i learned from the Jenna Jameson E! True Hollywood Story that she battled a drug addiction and her parents had divorced when she was young.. in news equally as breaking, JFK was shot..

as i grow older, the less and less i like blondes and the more and more fascinated i become with brunettes.. but lets be honest, i'm in no position to be judgemental..

that being said, just had this text conversation with my sister:

her: pretty sure you would nail my teacher. she is a hot little blonde.
me: ask her if she likes guys who can't grow facial hair and listen to Taylor Swift when they work out.
her: oh yeah, she's married and has a kid.
me: tell her i think we should see other people.

speaking of my sister, i got a phone call from her on Tuesday night while at a steak restaurant.. first i'll tell the steak restaurant story: my co-workers and i had been told about a good steak place by our boss in Minnesota, so with the help of a GPS, we went looking for it.. i noticed the building as we drove by but all the lights were off and it's clearly shut down.. we want steak, so we look in the GPS for another steak restaurant and find a place called "The Flame" and go there.. we immediately notice the valet parking.. as we're walking in, the owner of the GPS realizes that there are four "$" symbols, meaning it's extremely high class.. good to know as i walk in with my baseball cap and Twins hooded sweatshirt in White Sox country.. felt very out of place.. the steaks were very expensive but probably because one of the Golden Girls was our waitress and it was paying her appearance fee.. anyway, i'm mid-steak when my sister calls me and asks me when i'm coming home.. i tell her February 5th.. she asks me if i have to go back to Chicago after that or if i was done.. at this point i think there was a death in the family and i'm needed at home.. nope, it was worse.. she wants me to run in a 10K on the 21st of February.. she runs every morning at the gym before work, i can barely get myself to the gym twice a week.. she recruited me for a 5K in the fall, i ran twice to prepare myself and nearly collapsed halfway through it while (seriously) being passed by a man pushing a stroller.. this time i'll prepare better but the cold weather is going to kill my lungs.. i just hope i finish and don't vomit.. it's for charity, so i'm doing it regardless.. AND for the half-marathon relay in April, which she also tricked me into.. never thought i'd turn into a runner..

there's this girl that i occasionally text and get made fun of for.. it's not anything "romantic" or anything but you know how guys get.. so today, i get a text from a friend who asks me if i've talked to her lately and i said a little bit, which clearly excites him.. i've explained to him that i don't want to do stuff with her and he implies that i wouldn't have to be the one who does, i just have to get her out with us.. meanwhile, this guy has a girlfriend.. so i alert him of this fact: "you have a girlfriend".. "quit swearing", he says.. so classic.. i'd take one girl at this point, much less multiple.. guess i was wired differently than normal boys..


Lyrics of the Week

"Always The Love Songs" by the Eli Young Band

Used to pull off highway 249
Had a cool little place
Where we'd go hide on Friday night
And get away from the city lights
Find a little wood and build a fire
Somebody'd always bring a couple guitars
And we'd take turns
Singing songs and watching it burn
We'd do rambling man,
Proud Mary, and American band
We'd be singing at the top of our lungs

It was always the love songs every time
Made everybody feel something inside
With the fire down low
You held your girl real close
Made you wanna love the one you were with
Gave you the courage in that first kiss
It was the love songs
Always the love songs

It was always the line
Stuck in your head
That would sit in and wait
Wish you could have said
But you both knew
They were singing it right to you
It felt so good those times you
The feeling of wanting somebody so bad
Made you weak in the heart
You couldn't take being apart
Honky-tonk drinkin songs
We cold do them all night long
But the ones i remember most

It was always the love songs every time
Made everybody feel something inside
With the fire down low
You held your girl real close
Made you want to love the one you were with
Gave you the courage in that first kiss
It was the love songs
Always the love songs

We'd be singing at the top of our lungs

It was always the love songs every time
Made everybody feel something inside
With the fire down low
You held your girl real close
Made you wanna love the one you were with
Gave you the courage in that first kiss
It was the love songs
Always the love songs

Always the love songs
Always the love songs


"Rapid Hope Loss" by Dashboard Confessional

You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fold
before you're found out.
Well, thanks for waiting this long to show yourself.

Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.

So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
and now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
and now it's gone and you're wasted on me.

You called to say you wanted out.
Well, I can't say I blame you now.
Sometimes you've got to fall
before you're found out.
Well thanks, thanks for waiting this long to show yourself, show yourself.

Cause now that I can see you,
I don't think you're worth a second glance.

So much for all the promises you made, they served you well
and now you're gone and they're wasted on me.
So much for your endearing sense of charm, it served you well
and now it's gone and you're wasted on me.

I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna give,
so much for, so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna give,
so much for, so much more

Do what you must if that's what you wish,
I can't be a party to this
you have a sense that you were born with
You'll find a way to make things right.

I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna give.
so much for, so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna give.
so much for, so much more
I guess that all you've got is all you're gonna give.
so much for, so much more


"It Ain't Me" by the Warren Brothers

You’re Daddy’s little girl
Born with a silver spoon
I could tell somebody told you
you hung the moon
You look so good I had to look the other way
You need a man that’ll do everything you say

I know baby what you need
I know baby what you need
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
It ain’t me

At first you were different
Actin’ like the shy type
You blew it baby you blamed it on the wine
I should have known that was the beginning of the end
But I took you back baby you did it all over again

I know baby what you need
I know baby what you need
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
It ain’t me

You don’t think I’d leave you standing in the rain
Girl you think my love for you it’ll never change
Oh, no, no, no
It used to be enough drinkin’ from your lovin’ cup
But tonight it’s really over
So shut up and get out of my truck

I know baby what you need
I know baby what you need
I know ba-ba-ba-baby what you need
Yeah I know baby what you need
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Yeah, yeah
It ain’t me


"Runnin' Out of Heroes" by the Warren Brothers

Gotham heard the news today
Batman up and moved away
He said he couldn’t bare to stay
In a lonely cave no more

The Daily Planet pitted Lois Lane
Had to get an order to restrain
Less than Superman who went insane
When she said she needed more
Walked right out the door

I guess I really need
Something I can see, something I can hold
Someone to hold me
I’m sorry if it scares you
That I need to be rescued
But you’re my only hope
‘Cause I’m runnin’ out of heroes

Always thought that I could be John Wayne
Come sunset I’d sweep you away
But I don’t feel much like him today
I can’t fake it anymore
The way I did before

I guess I really need
Something I can see, something I can hold
Someone to hold me
I guess I’m trying to say
You’re the only way
You’re the only one
Who could come and save the day
I’m sorry if it scares you
That I need to be rescued
But you’re my only hope
‘Cause I’m runnin’ out of heroes

Runnin’ out of heroes


"One I Can't Live Without" by the Warren Brothers

Yes I've been with someone new
She's a good woman too
But she can't compare to you

The more time that I spend with her
The more I see what it's about
She's someone I can live with
but you're the one that
I can't live without
She has brown eyes like you
Picks me up when I'm feelin' blue
Showers me with her love
But somehow it's not enough

I know we said it's over
But I just can't let you go
'cause no one compares to you

The more time that I spend with her
The more I see what it's about
She's someone I can live with
You're the one that I can't live without
You're the one that I can't live without
I can't live without you
I can't live without you


"Move On" by the Warren Brothers

We’re wastin’ all our time and energy it seems
To mend our broken hearts as if they were machines
There ain’t a tool around that could make us tight

Hell I don’t know where all the good times went
Had a pocket full of love now there ain’t nothin’ left but lint
A handful of good times don’t make it right

So move on
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
Come on
Love is like a puzzle when the pieces don’t fit
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
So move on

You’ve got to be you and baby I’ve got to be me
And I don’t wanna stay just because I don’t wanna leave
I got one foot out the door
I got one foot in my mouth

We’re always sayin’ things that we don’t really mean
Like I love you and I’ll be with you for all eternity
We don’t have that long to work this out

So move on
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
Come on
Love is like a puzzle when the pieces don’t fit
There ain’t nothing you can do about it

And I tried to find the answers
And I’ve read all the books
Watched all the daytime shows
Sometimes we’re the victims
Sometimes we’re the crooks
That’s just the way it goes
Oh, yeah

So move on
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
Come on
Love is like a puzzle when the pieces don’t fit
There ain’t nothing you can do
So move on
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
Come on
Love is like a puzzle when the pieces don’t fit
There ain’t nothing you can do about it
Move on
Move on
Just move on


"Hey Stephen" by Taylor Swift

Hey Stephen, I know looks can be deceiving but I know I saw a lot in you
As we walked we were talking and I didn't say half the things I wanted to
Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window
I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold
Hey Stephen, boy you might have me believing I don't always have to be alone

Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel
Can't help I if I wanna kiss you in the rain so
Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you
Can't help it if there's no one else
I can't help myself

Hey Stephen, I've been holding back this feeling
So I've got some things to say to you
I seen it all so I thought but I never seen anyone shine the way you do
They you walk, the way you walk, the way you say my name
It's beautiful, wonderful, don't you ever change
Hey Stephen, why are people always leaving
I think you and I should stay the same

Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel
Can't help I if I wanna kiss you in the rain so
Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you
Can't help it if there's no one else
I can't help myself

They're dimming the street lights
You're perfect for me why aren't you here tonight?
I'm waiting alone now so come on and come out and pull me near
Shine, shine, shine

Hey Stephen I could give you fifty reasons why I should be the one you choose
All those other girls, well they're beautiful but would they write a song for you?

Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel
Can't help I if I wanna kiss you in the rain so
Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you
Can't help it if there's no one else
I can't help myself

Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel
Can't help I if I wanna kiss you in the rain so
Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you
Can't help it if there's no one else
I can't help myself
Myself, can't help myself
I can't help myself


"That's The Way I Loved You" by Taylor Swift

He is sensible and so incredible
And all my single friends are jealous
He says everything I need to hear and it's like
I couldn't ask for anything better
He opens up my door and I get into his car
And he says you look beautiful tonight
And I feel perfectly fine

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain
And it's 2am and I'm cursing your name
You're so in love that you act insane
And that's the way I loved you
Breakin' down and coming undone
It's a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you

He respects my space
And never makes me wait
And he calls exactly when he says he will
He's close to my mother
Talks business with my father
He's charming and endearing
And I'm comfortable

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain
And it's 2am and I'm cursing your name
You're so in love that you act insane
And that's the way I loved you
Breakin' down and coming undone
It's a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you

He can't see the smile I'm faking
And my heart's not breaking
Cause I'm not feeling anything at all
And you were wild and crazy
Just so frustrating intoxicating
Complicated, got away by some mistake and now

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain
It's 2am and I'm cursing your name
I'm so in love that I acted insane
And that's the way I loved you
Breaking down and coming undone
It's a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you oh, oh

And that's the way I loved you oh, oh
Never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you


"Beautiful Eyes" by Taylor Swift

Your beautiful eyes
Stare right into my eyes
and sometimes I think of you late at night
I don't know why
i want to be somewhere where you are
I want to be where...

You're here, You're eyes are looking into mine
So baby, make me fly
My heart has never felt this way before
I'm looking through your
I'm looking through your eyes

I wake up, I'm alive
In only a little while...I cry
Cause you're my lullaby
SO baby come hold me tight cause I-I
I want to be eberything you need
I want to be where...

Just as long as you're mine
I'll be you're everything tonight
Let me love you, kiss you
Oh baby let me miss you
Let me see your
Dream about
Dream about
Dream about your eyes
Eyes, Eyes...Beautiful eyes


"Your Anything" by Taylor Swift

I bet you lie awake at night
Trying to make up your sweet mind
Wondering if you'll ever find
Just what you want
A home-town number one
Or a California loaded gun
But you know you only get one
Or that's what you thought
But here's what you've got

I could be your favorite blue jeans
With the holes in the knees
In the bottom of the top drawer
I could be your little beauty queen
Just a little outta reach
Or the girl living next door
I'll be your angel giving up her wings
If that's what you need
I'd give everything to be your anything

If you want hard to get
If you want...
All you have to do is let me know
If you want a bumpy ride
Or someone with a softer side
Either one'll be alright
Just let me know
Cause this is where it goes

It's not like I'm giving up who I am for you
but for someone like you it's just so easy to do

I could be your favorite blue jeans
With the holes in the knees
In the bottom of the top drawer
I could be your little beauty queen
Just a little outta reach
Or the girl living next door
I'll be your angel giving up her wings
If that's what you need

If that's what you need

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

How Nice Guys Can Impress..

from Men's Health..

Men always ask us why women won't sleep with nice guys. We will. It's just that jerks have been able to perfect the first-impression package that catches our attention. And in our years as sex-advice columnists, it has become clear that you good guys can learn from the players. Just follow these steps to score like a jerk—without becoming one yourself.


Be Confident
Without this, you might as well forget the next eight steps, 'cause you ain't getting laid. We don't care what kind of Jedi mind trick it takes—a Raging Bull-style motivational speech in the bathroom mirror, or imagining her with a massive zit on her nose—you should force your body to act confident.

Don't slouch; do nod and smile when she's talking; and put your beer on the bar between sips, rather than clutching it like a life preserver. Because if you don't believe in yourself as a sex machine, she never will.


But Don't Be Arrogant
If you lay it on too thick and make yourself the focus (or, worse, the hero) of every story you tell, you know what we'll think? That you're insecure and desperate, and have something to prove. We can spot a Napoleon complex within 60 seconds.

What we like instead is self-deprecation—a guy who can laugh at himself. Make fun of yourself in the past tense. Everyone loves to bond about what dorks we were in high school. It proves that you can laugh at yourself while subtly conveying that you've become way cooler. One boyfriend of Lo's won her over by breaking out his hilariously hideous 1995 driver's-license photo. But be careful not to overdo the self-deprecation, lest you fail the next step.


Don't Whine, Complain, or Bitch
About anything—it's seriously unsexy. If you can't get a bartender's attention, for example, don't sigh loudly and complain about the service—laugh it off and ask her to give it a shot instead. And your problem at work? Don't care! We're drinking, here!


Stop Being So Considerate
Nice guys hate to offend, so they add "just kidding" after every sarcastic comment. It's the equivalent of smiley emoticons. You don't have to be so gushing and eager to please. Poke fun at her girly drink, her jukebox selections, her brick of a joke. You know, the way you made fun of the girls you really liked when you were in sixth grade.


Compliment Her
But make it about something besides her appearance. She's heard a thousand guys tell her she has great skin, so it no longer even registers as a compliment—she just assumes you're trying to get in her pants. But if you are genuinely listening to her (You are, right? Hello?) and you manage to observe something about her inner person, it will get you far, because it's rare.

You could be totally off base, but it doesn't matter: People are always fascinated by a near stranger's assessment of their character. It's kind of like reading a horoscope. If she makes you laugh, tell her she's funny. If she says something sweet, tell her she's kind. If she tells a great story, ask if you can steal it. Years ago, a guy in a bar told Em she had great style, and she's never forgotten it—it's a million times better than "You look hot in that."


Touch Her
After you've developed a rapport, find a lighthearted excuse for a little skin-to-skin contact—like a gentle shoulder punch when she makes you laugh, an elbow touch as you click on some shared delight, or a cozy duet at a karaoke bar. Or drag her onto the dance floor to something like Kings of Leon or upbeat Sinatra, so you can swing around together like a poor man's Fred and Ginger. But don't grope or gaze deeply into her eyes while putting your hand on her knee—she'll think you read some cheesy book on how to hook up (written by a man).


Recruit a Wingwoman
Wingmen are for beer ads. Wingwomen are for closing the deal. When a woman sees a guy with cool female friends, she assumes a) he's a laugh to be around; b) he genuinely likes women, rather than just their body parts; c) he's not desperate; and d) he'll probably still respect her in the morning. Moreover, wingwomen—especially cute ones—create an air of friendly competition.

Your college gal pals make great wingwomen, because you've known them long enough for the relationship to be obviously platonic. Or, if one of your guy friends has a cool girlfriend, invite them both out: Most women in relationships are chronic match-makers. Confide in her that you need her help—she'll be flattered. Then let her work her magic.


Buy Her a Drink
But let her buy the next round. It blurs the lines between pickup artist and pickupee. Let her do a little of the work so she'll relax into being seduced. If you don't, it'll make her more judgmental (and more likely to give you the Heisman). If you insist that she not pay for anything, she'll see you as an old-fashioned control freak who thinks that women who put out on the first date aren't "girlfriend material."


Make Her Laugh
If she's cracking up, she's too busy having a good time to wonder about your motives (not the case if you insist on supersmooth, seriously seductive pickup lines). Sharing a laugh makes her feel you two are "connecting." In fact, it's a far better indicator that she'll go home with you than sharing a kiss. But please, no knock-knock jokes or movie quotes—you have to be witty and irreverent.

Funny stories are always good—Em's fiancé cracked her up the first time they met by recounting how he got chased down by his neighbor's pet monkey after making monkey faces at it. And a cloak of humor can disguise your intentions just enough: Ask her jokingly if she'd like to come up and see your etchings. After all, the truth is often spoken in jest.

30 Secrets Every Woman Keeps from Her Man..

from Men's Health..

The woman you sleep with gazes into your eyes and tells you she loves you. And you believe her. You can tell by the way she looks at you, the way she holds you, the way she seems to always know what you want before you do. There are a couple of things in life you just know, and love and this naked woman are two of them.

But there are a lot of things you don't know.

A woman may give you her body and her heart, but there are parts that she'll never give up. Pieces woven into the very fiber of her being. Mysteries only hinted at in a passing sly smile, an inscrutable laugh. These are the secrets of lovers past, hidden fantasies, and unshared longings. A woman's deepest secrets that don't—and never will—include you.

You're about to sample this hidden knowledge. But like any man who seeks, you'd better be prepared for what you're about to find.

1. My best friend knows everything. She knows all of your vitals—from the size of your bank account to the size of your other, um, holdings—and she knows how both compare with those of every other man I've ever dated. I have done a hand-comparison measurement so I can divulge size and girth with a high level of accuracy. When my friend smirks at you knowingly, you are not imagining it. She knows. So just know that she knows, and deal with it. (It's not going to change.)

Ask her about me, or chat with her about our relationship, at your own risk. She will tell me. Even—in fact, especially—if she promises not to. This is not always a bad thing (e.g., if you happen to be telling her how much you love me). But, in general, remember that she is my confidante first, and yours never.

2. Just looking at your hands can turn me on.

3. When you go away, even for a day, I sleep in your favorite old T-shirt because it smells like you.

4. I'll never tell you exactly how many men I've slept with. No matter how sincere I appeared when I answered your question, chances are I wasn't. As an unscientific guideline, when a woman says she's slept with four men, the real number is actually closer to seven. Her fib is partly intentional (she doesn't want to appear a floozy), but mostly it's sexual amnesia. When a woman wants to pretend an encounter never occurred, she simply scraps the man from her official score sheet. Common excuses that lead to such an omission: The actual sex lasted only a few thrusts; or she was drunk or on the rebound.

5. I fantasized about being with you at least a dozen times before we actually first got naked.

6. I still think about my ex-boyfriends and compare them to you. Mostly you win. Sometimes not.

7. I have Googled your exes.

8. When I'm falling in love with you, I completely lose my appetite.

9. My body really isn't naturally this hairless and smooth all over. But I will never allow you to see any indication whatsoever of all the shaving, tweezing, waxing, exfoliating, and moisturizing that gets it this way.

10. I only appear to have it all together. My true organization (or lack thereof) is revealed in my closet, my makeup bag, my desk files.

11. I have discovered your porn stash and your frequently visited porn Web sites and think the things that turn you on are hilarious.

12. When I say, "I'm ready," I'll need exactly 7 more minutes to get ready. Don't try to cheat the system by showing up 7 minutes later; I will still need an extra 7 minutes.

13. When I say, "I'll meet you in 15 minutes," I mean I will leave in 15 minutes, and thus won't actually arrive for at least 30 (but probably more like 40).

14. You've made me cry more times than you'll ever know.

15. I obsess about when you're going to call me again. The period of time between our first date and your "Thanks for a great night; when can I see you again?" always seems stretched into slow motion. So don't worry about looking too eager. Call. Even if you only wait until noon the day after, it will feel like a lifetime to me. And don't send me an e-mail unless you want me to put you in the figurative trash can along with your message.

16. I want you to talk a little dirty.

17. At the beginning of our relationship, I save all of your voice mails and listen to them (and make my friends listen, too), repeatedly.

18. I might wear granny underwear and purposely not shave my legs because I like you. As crazy as it sounds, the more I like you, the less likely I am to sleep with you on an early date, because I don't want to sabotage having a "proper" relationship with you. So I just might purposely hunt out the ugliest underwear in my drawer and not shave my legs—all to prevent myself from getting naked with you too soon. Sometimes I might get a little tipsy or carried away, and this plan will backfire.

19. I split the cost of my fashion purchases over two or more credit cards, so you don't notice the gargantuan deficit.

20. I'm constantly testing you. I observe, analyze, and judge every action, word, gesture, e-mail, and facial expression. When I ask you if you want to have a threesome, I don't mean it. If you want me to speak to you again, let alone sleep with you after this conversation, the answer should always be, "Why would I want to sleep with another woman when I have you?"

21. I check out your butt every time you leave the room.

22. I need constant indications that you want me around. That's why it's better, for example, to say, "I want you to come away with me for the weekend. Could you come with me?" than to ask, "What are you up to this weekend?"

23. I love it when you get a little jealous. So if you ever see me flirting in front of you with the waiter, the bus driver, or another guy at a party, know I'm actually flirting with you—through him.

24. Even though I may complain that I don't see you enough (or that you work too hard), I find nothing sexier than watching you put on a suit in the morning and rush off to work.

25. I start fights with you because I'm feeling ignored. I'm trying to force emotion out of you. Don't retreat into your cave; just give me what I want: some attention. And never tell me to "calm down," unless you want to guarantee that I absolutely won't.

26. Even if I insist on paying or splitting the bill on our first date, I'll think you're cheap if you let me.

27. I may find your best friend repulsive, but I've fantasized about sleeping with him. Not because I want him, but because I want a piece of a guy who is so close to you.

28. If I'm going to break up with you, all of my friends know way before you do. I've been talking about it for 2 weeks.

29. When we do break up, I put all photographs of you and mementos of our relationship in a shoe box and store it in my closet. Just in case I get nostalgic. Just in case you come back.

30. I want you to take control in bed. Yes, I have a successful career, I'm financially independent, I live on my own, and I don't need a man to make me happy (in theory). I still want you to pick me up, carry me to the bedroom, and take without asking.

10 Lessons About the Female Orgasm..

from Men's Health.. cause we all could use a lesson on that..


Take Her Off the Clock
Just as you're concerned about lasting longer, many women are so self-conscious about taking too long that they end up faking orgasm or deciding to go without. The solution? Stop obsessing over orgasms—yours and hers. A recent brain-imaging study by Swedish researchers shows that relaxation is the single most important factor in bringing a woman to orgasm.

So tell her she has all night. The better you convey not just tolerance for a lengthy buildup, but also appreciation of her sexual pleasure—orgasm or not—the easier it will be for her to unwind and explode. Oh, and studies show that it takes 15 to 40 minutes for the average woman to reach orgasm. Going somewhere?


Turn Her On with Your Talent
The best sex starts long before the clothes come off. Talent—more than rugged good looks or a chiseled midsection—is a powerful aphrodisiac, according to research by my colleagues at The Kinsey Institute. (Less surprisingly, poor hygiene and a messy home are among women's biggest turnoffs.)

So nail "Paradise City" during karaoke. Or make her die laughing at your self-deprecating display of atrocious dartsmanship. Yes, humor is a talent, too.


When She's Naked, Speak Up
Women who worry about the way they look down there are less likely to orgasm easily during oral sex, according to my research. And a recent study published in the Journal of Sex Research suggests that women who feel embarrassed or ashamed about their bodies have less sexual experience and are less sexually assertive.

Clearly, you have everything to gain with flattery. If you love the way she looks naked—and you do, right?—share the news.


Always Be Tender Up Top
During foreplay, gently brush the tops, bottoms, and sides of her breasts; these areas are actually more sensitive than an unaroused areola and nipple. Gradually move in toward her nipples, paying attention to how she responds. As things heat up, the nipples will become flushed with blood, and the sensory receptors will become primed for direct stimulation. You'll kickstart the bloodflow and lubrication down below, starting her slow buildup.


Learn Her Key Strokes
One thing many women love during manual stimulation: a slow buildup. Here's how to do it: Lie next to her, lightly bracing the heel of one hand just above her clitoris. Now run your ring and middle fingers along the length of her outer lips. Graze the skin at first, adding pressure as the tension builds. Cup the area around her clitoris with your palm to add indirect stimulation—most women are too sensitive to receive direct contact early on. As she becomes aroused, brace your hand on her mons—her pubic mound, the fleshy area that covers her pubic bone—and tease the clitoris with the middles and tips of your fingers as you move your entire hand.


Change Your Angle
Play Ponce de León and explore various types of penetration to figure out what turns her on most. Your first stop: her G-spot, located about 1 to 2 inches up the front wall of her vagina. This spongy region swells during arousal. Try massaging the area slowly with your fingers. A lot of women find it mind blowing. Not her thing? Just move on.


Use Moves that Multitask
To maximize her pleasure, increase the amount of contact you'll have with her most sensitive parts. Here's one move that will drive her wild: Ask her to lie on her back, with her legs stretched out. Now climb on top. Curl your arms around her shoulders, supporting yourself with your elbows and moving your chest up by her chin. The goal is to bring the base of your penis in contact with her clitoris. Thrust slowly, focusing on up-and-down movement instead of in-and-out penetration.

Another great trick: Move your pubic mound in a circle or up and down against her clitoris. You'll get a break from high-intensity stimulation, and she'll receive focused attention where it often matters most.


Learn to Sense Her Orgasm
Ease into oral sex—don't just attack. First kiss her inner thighs and her inner and outer lips, then work your way inside using firm, broad strokes with your tongue. Watch her hips for a clue to the rhythm she likes. Listen to her gasps and moans as you experiment with different techniques.

And watch for signs she's close to climaxing, such as a subtle deepening in the color of her labia caused by increased bloodflow. Or rest a hand on her stomach and feel for the muscular contractions that immediately precede her orgasm.


Follow Her Lead
Once you reach your point of no return, you'll climax even if you're interrupted by a tuba-playing, thong-clad Bea Arthur. But your lady could hit the "off" switch if you stop or change moves midway to orgasm. We love it when you try new things, and it's important to vary your technique, but once you've found a winner, stick with it until she crosses the finish line.


Let Her Finish First
Stalking the elusive tandem orgasm is an admirable goal, but many women—especially those with sensitive clitorises—respond better to a "ladies-first" strategy. If you rub the clitoris for a long time—during thrusting, for example—it can become too sore or desensitized to respond to manual or oral stimulation later. So satisfy her before intercourse.

Bonus: A woman's orgasm threshold drops after her first one, so it's often easier to bring her to climax through penetration after she's already had one. How does that sound for an encore?

Monday, January 19, 2009

greatest hits: volume 1 (acoustic)..

i'm in Chicago for a few weeks for work and i fully expect to be too busy or exhausted to come up with shit to talk about, but since i like entertaining the people who enjoy reading this and take the time to do so, i've copied and pasted a few of the very early posts i did.. maybe some of you started reading later on and haven't gotten to the earlier stuff, so i picked some random ones.. i'll come up with new stuff soon, in the meantime, enjoy! :)


Tuesday, August 26, 2008
breakfast at tiffany's..

this post is being unofficially co-brought to you by people who use "preggers" as slang for pregnant and the dude i saw golfing with cut-off jean shorts, sneakers and an ACDC t-shirt.. long afternoon..

first of all, congratulations to me for getting the rare raise today that's not the obligatory "end of the year/bonus/we're giving this to everyone/blah blah blah" kind and is the "we appreciate your flexibility and hard work/middle of the summer/you're cooler and smarter than everyone else here, especially the lady who sits in the lunchroom with her legs spread open instead of crossing them" variety.. just thought i'd throw that in, selfishly..

i think the worst feeling on earth is the feeling you get right before you get a cold.. for me it's just a scratchy throat but i always envision the next couple days will involve 105 degree fevers and bleeding from the ears..

staying on that topic, how much shit can come out of one persons head? i could blow my nose with a Brillo pad at this point and it wouldn't matter.. Paris Hilton's vagina thinks my nose has been beat up the past few days..

do you think Bert calls Ernie, and after talking for 4 hours says he's not going to hang up until Ernie hangs up and they go back and forth for a bit? of course not, they share a one-bedroom apartment.. unless one of them is away on business, of course.. but then Ernie is probably busy housing Elmo, let's face it..

a guy asked for Virginia Slims at the gas station today.. his gal got Marlboro reds.. that's funny.. match made in heaven..

there should be more whistles in water polo that mean absolutely nothing, it would make it more enjoyable to watch..

school is almost starting, can't wait to get my "Full House" Trapper Keeper and rock that in Earth Science..

you know that guy who goes to the bowling alley with his wrist guard, chalk, personalized ball and cut-off Dale Earnhardt, Jr. t-shirt and proceeds to bowl a 137? he's my favorite..

went to Mongo's today for the first time in history.. if tastebuds can have orgasms, mine had multiple.. it's so good, this exchange occurred between my roommate and i on the way out.. Me: "these covers are doing absolutely nothing right now".. Him: "if you fucking drop mine i will beat the piss out of you".. fair enough.. that same roommate told me i'm too nice and need to be a dick sometimes.. i guess that was my first lesson..

if you comment on how good a woman looks pregnant, make sure she's pregnant.. or at least a woman.. your safest bet is to act oblivious until the baby is born, then act surprised.. and don't be fooled by that "water breaking" nonsense.. that can happen to anyone..

here are some acceptable and unacceptable responses to a woman asking "do you know what today is?":

ACCEPTABLE:

"anniversary of (insert important day here.. omit the time you ran over her cat twice 'on accident')"..

"birthday" (this could be hers, your children's, her parents, Oprah's, etc.)..

"Kwanzaa"

"Boxing Day in Canada"

"Rosh Hashanah"

"Columbus Day" (side note: a couple weeks ago, a gas station cashier alerted me to the fact that Christopher Columbus raped Indians when he got here.. you know what, he found America without a map and i can't find my niece's fucking birthday party without Mapquest.. so i'll let that slide)..

"First Day of Summer" (doesn't matter if it's snowing, say it with conviction)..


UNACCEPTABLE:

"the day you start dieting?"


i'm debuting a new feature now called "Song Lyrics of the Week", since i usually post every week or so.. i'll pick some of my favorite lyrics and post them here, that way if you download music or whatever and you think you may like a song, you'll know what song it is.. i'm on a Dashboard Confessional kick right now, so here are a few of their songs..

"Screaming Infidelities" by Dashboard Confessional

I'm missing your bed, I never sleep
Avoiding the spots where we'd have to speak
And this bottle of beast is taking me home.

I'm cuddling close to blankets and sheets
You're not alone and you're not discreet.
You make sure I know who's taking you home.

I'm reading your note over again,
There's not a word that I comprehend,
Except when you signed it:"I'll love you always and forever"

As for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs, And sit alone and wonder, how you're making out.
And as for me I wish that I was anywhere, with anyone, making out.

I'm missing your laugh,
How did it break?
when did your eyes Begin to look fake?
I hope you're as happy as you're pretending

I'm cuddling close to blankets and sheets
I am alone in my defeat
I wish I knew you were safely at home

I'm missing your bed, I never sleep.
Avoiding the spots where we'd have to speak.
And this bottle of beast is taking me home.

Well as for now I'm gonna hear the saddest songs,
And sit alone and wonder...
How you're making out.
And as for me I wish that I was anywhere, with anyone...Making out

Your hair it's everywhere.
Screaming infidelities and taking its wear.


"Only Gift That I Need" by Dashboard Confessional

You'll be leaving for the winter, but I won't see that it's true
It's the right thing for you, but it's tough to be moved
With the holiday spirit, when to tell you the truth
I had big plans for Christmas, and high hopes for you.

I want you here by my side
Cold nights and fires and white wine
And dreams of holidays to come, but I'll wait for spring to bring you to me
Only gift that I need.

I'll be living off your phone calls and your letters and your post cards
Every single word is like a secret wish come true
Who cares if we're apart for the big days
It's the small ones made me fall in love with you (fall in love with you).

I want you here by my side
Cold nights and fires and white wine
And dreams of holidays to come, but I'll wait for spring to bring you to me

Only gift that I need.
Only gift that I need.


"Remember To Breathe" by Dashboard Confessional

She fixes her lips,
They always look perfect.
Never a smudge line,
Never too much.

I try on my blue shirt,
She told me she liked it... once.
She wonders what I'll wear.
She knows just what she'll wear.
She always wears blue.

So sneakers or flip-flops?
I'm starting to panic, wait wait

Remember she asked you,
Remember to breathe.
And everything will be okay.
Okay
Okay
Alright
Alright
Alright
Alright
Alright
(whisper)Okay.


"Shirts And Gloves" by Dashboard Confessional

When I'm back from the road
and you're out on it
And I'm tired of this distance
And I believe it's over, it's over-rated.
And this phone tag game is endless
the novelty is wearing
I'm hoping time will pass
without any assistance
or convincing.

Road rules apply
there's so much action,
you're getting busy.
So I'll call your cellular phone
to tell you TV night was
lonely without you
and so am I...so am I.

It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.

So many high points on this last leg.
I can't wait to recount them
it seems like nothings happened
until I've shared them with you.
And the note that you had called
says you're half a day away
and you are heading home
just in time for me, for me to leave.

So make sure that I'm up to date on TV night,
I hate to miss out.
I think I miss you most on Wednesdays
and Saturdays.

It seems our day keeps falling on a leap year.

Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 5:44 PM 0 comments


Tuesday, July 1, 2008
guitars and cadillacs..

this post is being unofficially co-brought to you by girls who chew tobacco, dudes who use metal detectors at the beach to look for "hidden treasures", and losers who spend all afternoon at Best Buy playing the video games..

around Christmas every year, i have to watch both "Home Alone" and "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation".. Christmas without these movies is like not having snow.. phenomenal movies..

guys, if you want out of a relationship, just hesitate when she asks, "do i look fat in this?".. first of all, you don't want to be in a relationship with a girl who tries to trap you with that question.. if you girls think you look fat in it, don't wear it and work a little harder at the gym next time.. we're fine with what you're wearing and what you were wearing both times before you changed.. just get dressed and don't make us late, that's all we ask.. and skip the underwear..

went to Cash Wise today and needed some sunscreen.. lucky for me, the only sunscreen i found was on the top shelf above the tampons and because God loves playing jokes on me, i bumped the shelf and knocked about 7 boxes of Tampax "something-glides" on the floor while an elderly couple stopped to gawk at me.. lovely.. i should have told them "Wheel of Fortune" was on or that they were late for their shuffleboard tournament..

how come you can't buy burgers and buns with the same quantity? today i bought a box of 9 burgers and obviously buns come in either 8 or 12-packs.. i wasn't fooled, it's just a ploy to make you buy more buns.. i blame the metric system.. and Martha Stewart..

one of my favorite guys is the guy at the gym who you've never spoken to but you need a spotter one day so you ask him.. he immediately turns into your personal trainer and starts yelling things at you like, "one more!" and "lock your elbows!".. it's awesome.. meanwhile, you just want him to keep the barbell from dropping on your Adam's apple and collapsing your esophagus.. one end of the bar is always lower than the other because one of your arms is spasming and giving out but this guy is having none of you giving up.. finally you finish your set and you go back to staring at the hot chicks, while he walks away with his hand wraps, chalk and leather weight belt to go drink his 3-gallon protein shake.. love that guy..

here's my gym story from tonight, not to sound all "jock" and "muscular" or whatever, just kinda funny.. i follow this workout program and today calls for chest and triceps and is only 4 lifts plus cardio if i want.. i was going to skip the cardio because my legs felt heavy today for some reason.. anyway, i get to the gym and my "gym wife" is there (basically just a racked-out blonde chick who i see a few times a week and want to make out with constantly.. i imagine she "moves her body like a cyclone and she makes me wanna do it all night long", copyright Baby Bash).. so she's at the gym tonight and i finish the lifts i was going to do, planning on leaving at this point.. but she's still there and in my area.. immediately i add 2 more lifts then follow her over to the ab workout area and bust out some ab exercises.. at this point, i'm there 20 minutes longer than i intended on, just because this girl hasn't left yet.. then she goes over to the elliptical machine and i figure she'll wind down for a few minutes and leave, so i go over to the treadmill and start running so i can watch her walk out.. anyway, 15 minutes, 1.6 miles and one dripping wet t-shirt later she finally walks out, making eye contact with me, rendering the whole experience worth it.. except that i neglected to put on my spandex shorts because i didn't expect to do cardio, so my balls weren't as festive and enthusiastic about it as i was.. oh well.. you're probably thinking "why don't you talk to her while you're there?".. well for two reasons: one, we both wear iPods while we work out, so that would be rude.. and two, i'm afraid i'll tear my vaginal wall.. my brother suggests this: "you can give her the eye contact and say hi without saying it.. she'll get the vibe.. then she'll come over and cook you waffles".. can't argue with that, right? i love waffles.. the lesson, as always: guys will do anything to attract girls, even risk "death by cardio"..

Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 7:50 PM 0 comments


Tuesday, May 27, 2008
things that should be obvious but obviously aren't...

* attn: bodybuilders: your balls are not proportionate to your body, thus rendering that speedo you're wearing absolutely ridiculous.. please don't kill me..

* attn: fat girls wearing belly shirts: just because your skinny best friend can fit that tank top doesn't mean you can too.. mix in a sweatshirt and/or treadmill.. if you're overweight, that's fine.. just act like it..

* attn: Twins CF Carlos Gomez: fouling off a 2-strike bunt attempt is a strike out.. fouling off a 2-strike pitch while swinging gives you another pitch.. i'm not great at math but this makes perfect sense to me.. we can always trade you for a folding chair and bocce ball set..

* attn: teenage girls: speaking in abbreviations is as cool as your N'Sync poster above your bed (read: not at all).. plus OMG!! it's so annoying.. braid each others hair and figure out that 2ND syllable in "people".. keep the abbrevs to the texting..

* attn: people who think others care about their NCAA March Madness bracket: we don't.. the fact that you're leading your office pool is roughly as significant as Lindsay Lohan having a drug counselor.. my mom has won these pools with this strategy: "which one of these teams wears blue suits?".. i rest my case..

* attn: old people: your blinker works, your toupee doesn't.. act accordingly..

* attn: drunk man at the bar: the hottest girl there didn't like you when you were sober and she likes you significantly less now that you've had 9 Jag Bomb's and called her the wrong name twice..

* attn: fielders who make errors: it wasn't the gloves fault so don't stare at it.. start taking steroids and you'll be fine..

* attn: Hollywood: no amount of makeup can make some people look attractive in HD TV..

* attn: motorcycle owners: two men should never be on the same motorcycle for any reason..

* attn: creepy man: you shouldn't be at the strip club alone, nor with that "level 3 sex offender" look on your face..

* attn: girls who cut my hair: it's okay to rest your boobs on my shoulder.. it's not okay to talk to me while doing so..

* attn: drinkers: everything sounds like a good idea after 7 Vodka Sours.. tomorrow it will be a very bad idea and being arrested for peeing on a bar rarely looks good on a resume..

* attn: adults age 18 or over: it's not okay to invite others over to play video games unless alcohol is involved..

* attn: males over age 29: if you have earrings, you better be a pro athlete or the lead singer of a well known band..

*attn: girls: we're really not looking at Playboy just for the articles.. they put naked ladies in there.. we like naked ladies..

* attn: condom makers: why does the inside have to feel like the driest place in the history of civilization? girls get "lubed" and "ribbed" and we get "cactus dry".. clean it up..

* attn: Paris Hilton: you deserve congratulations for being the only person to be famous only because she's a whore.. i'd hug you but i haven't had my gonorrhea shot..

* attn: nerds: wearing socks with sandals is not acceptable unless you're at a Star Trek convention or major Math Team event..

* attn: coffee industry: coffee makes most people race themselves to the bathroom and has since the beginning of time.. figure it out.. it's nearly impossible to look cool while gripping your butt closed..

* attn: Jerry O'Connell: the fact that the fat kid from "Stand By Me" is now housing a supermodel gives every male hope (albeit false hope) that they can do the same.. i applaud and boo you simultaneously..


Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 8:59 PM 0 comments
urinal etiquette, facial hair, nerds and infomercials..

okay boys, since all of us don't know the rules, here is what needs to be done while at a urinal: 1) don't talk to me unless we're in the same circle of friends.. one of my rules is "never talk to a man who's holding his penis".. i believe all men should behave similarly.. 2) keep both hands below your waist.. i don't need the guy next to me with his hands on his hips or one hand leaning against the wall or playing with a yo-yo.. i know it's not hard to aim into a urinal, but just practice for your toilet at home.. it would make me more comfortable.. 3) eyes straight ahead UNLESS at the bar and a very lubed up and racked out female walks in demanding to use the men's restroom.. then you can look at her.. NEVER look at another man.. if he demands you look at him at gunpoint, don't fall for it.. he's just testing you.. if he has claimed to have kidnapped your children, make him describe them, then proceed as you see fit..

writer's note: i'm currently rocking sporadic facial hair that makes me look slightly more white trash than Kevin Federline, or "K-Fed".. it's a nickname i made up.. feel free to use it..

why do people go to professional baseball games and do other things besides watch the game? you're paying a ridiculous amount of money to attend the game, park, drink a beer and destroy a hot dog and you sit in your seat doing a crossword puzzle? really? i've never gone to a baseball game and done anything other than watch the game.. if you want to fill out a crossword puzzle, stay at home and save yourself the $100 (and that's probably low).. what's next? you write out your bills at the ballpark? do your taxes? bring your lap top? whatever.. if i'm paying an insane amount of money to not pay attention, i'll do it at school..

you're officially a nerd if you are out of high school and attend a high school prom.. i don't care if you've been dating since elementary school, she has to go with a friend, probably a female friend.. even if you're a freshman in college and she's a senior in high school, it doesn't matter.. you know why girls don't ever come back for guys? cause they're getting drunk, fucking the college guys and forgetting about their "high school sweetheart".. so let that puppy dog romance go, mix in a frat party and smooth talk the chick who's .20 BAC is affecting her decision-making.. it's what grown-ups do..

staying on the "nerd" topic: how about those stickers on trucks that have Calvin peeing on another truck brands logo? we already know you're a giant douche bag by how loud your truck is, we don't need childish stickers to reinforce the idea.. the same goes for women who drive trucks and have "Real Women Drive Trucks" stickers.. if my (future) girlfriend would tell me she's getting a truck, it would lead to this exchange: her: "i'm getting a truck".. me: "i'm breaking up with you".. her: "and i'm getting one of those 'Real Women Drive Trucks' stickers in my back window".. me: "enjoy your future lesbian relationships and good luck in the WNBA".. women are women for a reason, they don't need to drive trucks or have body hair (or any hair below their eyelids, for that matter).. why not start chewing tobacco and get rid of that pesky "too many teeth" problem while you're at it?..

if i see another late-night infomercial that starts out "Billy Mays here...!!" and tries to sell me knives that can cut through diamonds, giant bean bag chairs you can hibernate on, or vacuums that can suck up bowling balls (finally!!), i will immediately go to the garage and place my marble bag (see: testicles) on the belt sander.. it would be immensely less painful.. i don't care that it's originally $3 million and you're selling it to me for 4 easy payments of $19.99.. i don't care that you're throwing in an extra scrotum shaver with my eyebrow trimmer.. it's 3 a.m., save your energy, you're way too fired up about that fucking mop..


Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 6:12 PM 0 comments
Thursday, May 22, 2008
a lot of nonsense.. i was bored..

i heard the other day that there was a study done that showed 80% of Americans use their cell phone while driving.. really? how much money did we spend on this study? you could have spent zero dollars by going to any random place (a mall, sporting event, school, etc.) and asked 100 people if they use their phone while they drive and got the same results.. has anyone ever had their phone ring while driving and thought "ya know, talking on the phone while driving is dangerous, i'm not going to answer that"? absolutely not.. you might receive a text and not answer until you reach your destination but even that is really too much to ask.. how about we spend our money on studies that we could actually use, like what is it about hot girls that makes male brains absolutely shut down and forget how to speak.. or why do girls like guys that treat them like shit? this is stuff that we really need to know..

i don't care what smokers say, you can't "stop smoking whenever you want".. if you can, what is it that you enjoy about it? the increased chance of getting several dangerous diseases? paying $5 a pack to do so? ruining your clothes? your face looking like a catchers mitt? no one wanting to be in the same room as you? yes, this all sounds pleasant.. so what you really mean when you say you can quit is, "i know smoking does nothing beneficial for me but i'm addicted now so i'll just say negative things about it so people don't bug me about quitting".. it's fine if you smoke, just don't act like it's the easiest thing in the world to quit.. if it was, more people would do so..

guys and girls dance for different reasons.. you will NEVER hear a group of guys talk about going out to dance.. girls do this all the time.. girls go out dancing to forget about guys.. guys dance hoping to drunkenly make out with a girl.. that's the only purpose.. girls are usually good dancers.. most guys dance like an octopus falling out of a tree.. it's not attractive one bit.. but we know that and we're still too drunk to care.. i'll get out on the dance floor and look like the biggest idiot there but i have fun doing it.. and obviously i have a hidden agenda, i'm trying to grind on and make out with a random red-hot, racked out chick.. otherwise i'd be in the corner watching Sportscenter.. at least now you girls know.. we're doing it for you, be grateful..

i learned today that one of my co-workers has kidney stones, which i've heard is one of the most painful medical situations to deal with... my dad had them a while back and he has backed that statement.. evidently if you get them, you notice blood in your urine.. if i see blood in my urine, my immediate thought would be, "well, it was a good run".. i'd be assuming the worst right away, like i had less than a week to live.. but blood in your urine, can you imagine what goes through your head at that point? on the list of stuff i want to see coming out of my penis, blood or stones didn't make the cut.. not even "honorable mention".. the list basically consists of urine and baby making stuff.. that's it.. anything else and i'm on my way to the hospital.. actually i could live with beer coming out of there.. i'd still probably head to the hospital but i'd need a designated driver.. in all honesty, i might piss Miller Lite.. i'm fairly confident they taste exactly the same.. not to trivialize childbirth for women but i think kidney stones for men would be a somewhat comparable pain.. BUT to get pregnant you get to have sex and when childbirth is over you get to take home a kid and love them.. when you pass a kidney stone you get to take home a plastic cup with stones in it.. advantage: females, right? just kidding girls, we appreciate you carrying our offspring.. just give us the same sentimental treatment if we end up with kidney stones..

received a text today from my sister reminiscing about one particular moment of a tape of our high school overnight grad party.. they went around to all the students asking what they planned to do after high school, and one fellow male classmate of ours said word for word "i think i'm going to run my baler for a while and see what happens".. i don't want to ruin the ending but i'm fairly sure "virginity" happened.. "never seeing female breasts or genitalia" happened.. women may think Kenny Chesney's "tractor is sexy" but they don't think this guys baler is sexy.. he probably spends his weekends doing chores and watching Nascar, hoping the price of beans and corn goes up.. i just don't understand it.. God bless farmers, they are absolutely necessary to keep the country running, but i honestly don't get it.. i spent several summers as a little guy helping my cousins bale hay and every minute of it sucked.. the only thing i could think of was going to the lake afterwards, or wondering if they'd let me go home if i stuck my head in the baler.. definitely not something i'd want to do for a living.. give me an air conditioned office with several boombalottie secretaries wearing low-cut tops, thank you very much..

is anyone else scared to death by the preview of "The Strangers" that's on TV now? my God, where is my baby blanket? just those masks are scary as hell.. "why are you doing this?" "because you were home".. oh, ummm do you mind if i step out for a bit? i have some errands to run.. at least it's based on actual events, so that makes it 3 million times scarier.. i can't wait to see it and scream like a girl scout..


Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 8:22 PM 0 comments
Monday, May 19, 2008
oh, you were drunk? then it makes sense..

"i was drunk" is an acceptable excuse for doing the following:

* walking a long distance after the bar closes
* punching your best friend
* making out with a stranger
* falling out of a boat
* a man hugging another man
* crying over a sporting event
* getting a tattoo
* having no idea where your pants are
* having no idea who the person in your bed is
* texting or calling the person you like at 3 a.m.
* nearly getting kicked out of a concert (Nik)..
* drawing on passed out friends
* playing video games for 6 consecutive hours
* eating an entire bag of Doritos
* having meaningless sex with a blogger :)
* grinding on the hot girl on the dance floor
* doing karaoke
* telling someone they're "fucking hot"
* building a snowman
* crashing a wedding
* peeing in public
* inventing a new dance for "Soulja Boi"
* eating peanuts or popcorn for over an hour at the bar
* thinking the louder you talk, the more interesting you sound
* agreeing to do anything before noon the next day
* agreeing to be someone's Godparent, best man or bridesmaid
* thinking you're not drunk yet
* getting McDonald's at 3 a.m.
* eating at Perkins at 2 a.m.
* getting kicked off an airplane, out of a bar, out of a cab, anywhere..
* thinking you have model-looks
* thinking your ex wants a text or phone call after not speaking for months
* losing your cell phone
* forgetting your address
* thinking the stripper wants to have sex with you
* proposing a threesome with your girlfriend, or two random girls at the bar
* thinking everyone else wants to hear you say every word to the movie your watching
* agreeing to do anything more than a month away
* falling asleep anywhere
* calling someone sober for a ride at 4 a.m. on a weekday
* running from the cops


that's all i can come up with.. by the way, on the "uncomfortable scale", where does the "drunken phone conversation with your ex" land? gotta be somewhere between "falling down the stairs at a professional sporting event" and a "boy scout sleepover at Neverland Ranch", right? you ALWAYS regret it the next morning.. cell phones should come equipped with Breathalyzers and if you blow over a .08, the only places it can call is "home", "cab" or 911.. it would save people so many embarrassing conversations and apologies the next morning.. unless it led to a drunken booty call, then it's easier to deal with..


Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 6:41 PM 0 comments
how to get on "Cops", why cheerleading isn't a sport, and cell phone ringtones..

if you are looking to appear on "Cops", which is one of my lifetime goals, here are some prerequisites:

* you must be addicted to something (i.e. meth, alcohol, heroin, beating up loved ones, etc.)..
* you must live in a trailer, an apartment with more people than bedrooms or a house with at least two cars in the driveway that don't work..
* guys must be dressed in either a wife-beater, a torn shirt that depicts their favorite beer or Nascar driver, or topless..
* chicks must be dressed in an over-sized t-shirt with a cartoon character on it, or topless..
* you must smoke something or have something that can be smoked on your person..
* you must have more kids than teeth..
* if those kids are less than 2 years old, they can only be wearing a diaper..
* if your youngest kid is more than 6 months old, you must be pregnant again with a different guy's baby..
* if you're drunk, you have to resist arrest to the point of getting tazed..
* if you love your significant other, the black eye and blood pouring out of your face was from "falling down the stairs", "running into the door", or your "steel cage match"..
* you have the call the policeman "dude", "man" or "bro" even after he asks you several times not to..
* you only wanted to give that prostitute a ride..
* if more than one female is present, they must have a cat fight involving their purses and call each other "ho" repeatedly..
* the moment the officer puts handcuffs on you, you must ask "what am i being arrested for?"..


something can only be considered a sport if you keep score, not if it's judged by someone else.. however, just because score is being kept doesn't mean it's a sport.. for example, Scrabble: not a sport.. Golf: sport.. Bowling: not a sport.. Swimming: sport.. i love the people who try to say that cheerleading is a sport.. okay, then so is modeling.. 15 girls named Kelly or Amber clapping simultaneously and saying "yay" is not hard enough to be considered a sport, no matter how difficult they make it look.. the fact that there are more injuries per year that require medical attention in cheerleading than in football only further solidifies my point.. football players are athletes, cheerleaders are trying to get noticed for their physical appearances.. i guarantee this chick was a cheerleader: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj3iNxZ8Dww
and she was a hot one at that.. not very good at the words though.. do you train to be a cheerleader? no, you don't.. practice consists of synchronizing your claps and throws.. we appreciate the outfits, but focus less on calling yourself an "athlete" and more on catching Amber before she fractures her 5Th vertebrae..


while i'm ranting, anyone over the age of 30 should not have a rap-themed ring tone for their cell phone.. i heard Flo Rida ft. T-Pain "Low" while i was on break at work today, so i looked over to see who was hip enough to have that rocking their cell phone, and it was a lady who was absolutely in her 40's.. if you're likely to injure yourself dancing to your ring tone, you shouldn't have it.. that's my rule.. worry more about your plan to attack the upcoming menopause or male-pattern baldness..

Posted by Fluently Sarcastic at 5:47 PM 0 comments
Sunday, May 18, 2008

things it's okay for a man to do while shirtless in public..

taken from Esquire magazine, thought the list was funny... Beach-go. Have appendix removed. Sit in any section labeled "splash zone". Attend Burning Man. Crawl toward an oasis. Hew something. Watch a friend get busted on Cops (in person or on TV). Celebrate a bicycle kick. Stanch the bleeding of a dying man. Play against the "shirts". Bale hay. Frolic in the spray of an open fire hydrant (only under the age of 12). Talk to a blind person.


Sunday, June 1, 2008
random

this post is unofficially being brought to you by that one Linkin Park song where one guy raps while the other guy screams..

if i had the choice between sex with all 26 "case girls" on Deal or No Deal or a lifetime supply of strawberry Gushers, it would take me a while to decide..

i can't be the only one aware of the sexual tension between Bert and Ernie, can i?

if Ja Rule was playing a free concert in my backyard, i'd turn out the lights and go to bed..

we've sent people into outer space but we can't make cars that have headlights automatically turn on when your windshield wipers go on? i don't know how many idiots i have to nearly run into because i can't see them when it's raining.. it's not brain surgery..

how many e-mails do i have to get telling me to buy a pill that will increase my penis size? if i'm looking to get into porn, i'll think about it.. on that same topic: one of my roommates while watching a Cialis commercial tonight says, "why do we need a 12 minute commercial for this? just say 'take this, get a boner'".. solid point..

i can't wait to see a kid wearing those "roller sneaker" things roll directly into on-coming traffic..

i'm more likely to call in sick to work if i have painful pimple than if i have the flu..

what is it about bonfires that makes it perfectly acceptable to sit in a circle and stare at the ground for 3 hours? without a fire to look at, it's impossible.. with a fire, it's nearly impossible to leave..

i'd be surprised if more than zero people know how to spell better than whoever wins the National Scripts Spelling Bee, hosted by ESPN and Erin Andrews (thank God)..

on the 1-10 "slut" scale, every girl goes up .5 points with every alcoholic beverage.. on the 1-10 "horny" scale, every guy goes up .5 with every alcoholic beverage.. that can't be a coincidence..

i like how some people who play softball treat it like game 7 of the World Series.. any sport that can be dominated by 275 pound men while drinking beer shouldn't be taken seriously..


watching Sportscenter while typing this, they just had a story similar to the movie "Ladder 49", which i did not cry during, contrary to the reports in the Enquirer.. it was dusty in the room.. anyway, a man was the coach of a high school basketball team as well as a captain of a fire department.. he had coached these kids since 8Th grade and told them then that they could win a state championship by the time they graduated if they worked hard at it.. the summer before their senior year, he responded to a structure fire at a furniture store and was trapped inside.. he called for mayday and said over the radio to tell his wife that he loved her.. this was one day after their one-year wedding anniversary.. getting dusty again.. anyway, he and 8 other firefighters died fighting that fire.. well his basketball team ended up in the championship game where they led by 2 points with 1.7 seconds left.. one player on the team was on the free throw line with a one-and-one opportunity to seal the game.. he missed the first attempt, the other team gets the rebound, the player takes 2 dribbles and heaves a 65-foot shot that goes in and the referees allow.. the players are obviously crushed and hoping the play gets reversed.. the officials gather and without looking at a video replay decide that the shot happened too late and would not count.. i took 15 minutes out of my blogging just enthralled with the story.. super sad but a very cool ending.. not often ESPN gives you that feeling in your throat where you're about to cry..

Monday, January 5, 2009

a movie script ending..

This post is being co-brought to you by vanity license plates that say things like "MISSTHANG" or something equally as stupid and people who cook fish in the microwave at work, rendering the break room unusable for the next 24 hours.

Saturday night, a roommate of mine became drunkenly obsessed with finding the computer game, "Sim Farm" online for free. If you don't know what "Sim Farm" is it's basically like "Sim City" only it's a farm. You basically manage your own farm, crops and animals in an attempt to make a profit. Since we had been drinking for hours, this immediately became the greatest game in the history of games. A few highlights:

Roommate (across the house, to me): "Should I sell my horses for $119 a piece?"

Me: "How many do you have?"

Roommate: "Nine."

Me: "Of course. Did you plant a strawberry patch yet?"


- Missy the Cow won first prize at the fair in some sort of contest for cows, winning us $1,000, culminating in an awkward manhug/high five.

- Our cousin Jed lost at the rodeo, costing us $500.

- A swarm of locusts ate half our strawberry patch before prime selling season.

- Roommate accidentally bulldozed some of our fence down so our cows escaped.

- We bought 4 silos immediately and never put anything in them, wasting boatloads of money.

- While Roommate was peeing, I took the reins and immediately forgot to fertilize the strawberry patch and give the horses water, opting instead to watch the field goal being kicked in overtime of the San Diego/Indianapolis game, ending my brief farming career.

 

New Year’s Eve


Contrary to the last post, we didn't end up making it to those VIP bars, due to some private parties that took them over (whatever). Instead, we ended up north of Minneapolis at a bar called Major's. All events are told to the best of my knowledge and recollection. Names are left out to hide identity and reduce embarrassment for everyone but myself. Here’s the running diary:

7:00 p.m.: Friend (we'll call him Sophomore) arrives at my house. Hugs and hand pounds all around. We settle in with Bud Light and watch the Gophers bowl game.

8:30 to 9:00 p.m.: I get dressed and spray on some smells-good. Put two condoms in my back pocket. I’m not expecting anything, I’d just rather have the reason for not having sex be "you're not attractive" instead of "I would, but you don't have protection.” If that situation presented itself in a strange city, I’d sprint around looking for a gas station and finally be so disheveled by the time I get to one, I’d likely be hit with a Taser and hauled downtown. Also, two condoms instead of one is just foresight, knowing that I’d be drunk and probably in the dark, I’m more likely tear one in half or put it on the wrong way. I’m always thinking..

9:30 p.m.: We pick up female friend (we’ll call her Black Dress) at work. I pee there.

10:00 to 10:30 p.m.: Most boring road ever. Give us a billboard or a bank clock or drive-by shooting or something.

10:45 p.m.: Sophomore "I can see it from here" (we're an entire city away).

10:52 p.m.: Missed the exit, turn around. Sophomore claims we're only blocks away from his house and he knows exactly where we are. Finally..

10:55 p.m.: Sophomore (on phone with friend we're meeting): "Okay, now I don't know where I am again.” oh boy. I mentally prepare to spend midnight of New Year’s Eve lost in a strange truck while listening to Britney Spears.

11:00 p.m.: Finally pull into the parking lot. I excitedly suggest we go in the bar with the pretty blue lights (Bella's). I’m outvoted. We go into Major's to meet the people we're supposed to meet.

11:05 p.m.: Cool, $9.00 cover charge. Where are the topless girls??

11:10 p.m.: Have to pee. Notice TV in the bathroom, consider moving in.

11:15 p.m.: Sophomore buys our first round of drinks. His friend (Junior) buys a round of shots. Coming in hot.

11:20 p.m.: Look for the dance floor. Not nearly lubed up enough to dance yet but want to get used to the lighting, flooring, volume, etc. An artist always inspects his canvas..

11:30 p.m.: Notice that Junior has a cousin here with large arms, along with his pregnant fiancé. Only know that Fiancé is pregnant through word of mouth. Notice that Fiancé is lava-hot.

11:45 p.m.: Bouncers hand us some cardboard things wrapped in plastic. "What the fuck are these?” I ask, politely. "Streamers, throw them at midnight", he replies. Jesus, if I wanted to exercise I’d go to the gym. Open immediately, throw far.

11:51 p.m.: Send mass text to sister and roommates: "If you were Junior's cousin with huge arms, how mad would you be if I had sex with your pregnant fiancé? On a scale of 1 to 10?"  Show text to Sophomore and Black Dress. Sophomore declares it the highlight of his night. Black Dress looks at me in disbelief. "What?" Imagine not having to wear my two condoms to protect against pregnancy. Imagine having Fiancé’s fiancé tying my legs in a knot around my head. Go get another beer.

12:00 a.m.: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! A plastic thing full of balloons hangs over the dance floor. The bouncers pull strings to release balloons. One balloon falls to the floor. Drunk dancers tear the rest of it down and stomp on every balloon. Didn’t see that coming..

12:10 a.m.: Sophomore: "(unintelligible).” Me: "Can't hear you, that guys shirt is too loud" (point at guy in pink and green striped shirt).

12:15 a.m.: A verbal disagreement between Fiancé and her baby daddy escalates to the point of him going outside, presumably to practice giving his unborn child a lung disease. Fiancé heads to the dance floor alone. Have this conversation with Black Dress:

Black Dress: "Go dance with her.”

Me: "She's engaged and pregnant.”

Black Dress: "So?"

Me: "Good point.”

Someone brings shots to impede my grinding on Fiancé, in the process impeding my painful death.

12:20 a.m.: Guys are taking pictures of themselves.. with no one else in the picture. Decide that these are the guys that had mirrors in their lockers in high school.

12:25 a.m.: Definitely ready to dance. Bouncer stops my graceful entrance by handing me a plastic cup. Unsure of what to do with it, I give it to Black Dress. He hands me another and instructs me to pour my beer into it. I guess I had the "drunk guy who may start throwing beer bottles at any moment" look on my face. For $9 I should have taken all the cups and started an impromptu shirts and skins beer pong tournament..





12:35 a.m.: Notice hot girl wearing blue somewhere on her body (only thing I can remember). Consider asking her what side of the bed she wants to wake up on tomorrow.

12:45 a.m.: Girls surround me and my Reeboks wit da straps. I decide I’m hot in this part of the state. Black Dress later informs me it was because I’m a "great dancer.” I smile.

12:50 a.m.: Junior introduces me to an overweight/underattractive girl who asks me to dance. Against my better judgement, I accept her invitation. Use this time to scan dance floor for smokeshows. Attempt to make eye contact with Sophomore so we can share in the hilarity of the moment. He ignores me. Longest song ever. At least her ass is in my crotch so I don't have to look at her. Later learn from Sophomore that Junior made this arrangement so he could try hitting on the girl with blue somewhere on her body because he was “threatened by me.” A solid 9.6 on the Comedy Scale.

1:00 a.m.: Guy who has clearly never danced or touched female genitalia takes over the dance floor and starts a line dance. I stare, astonished.

1:10 a.m.: Sophomore: "What do you think about that girl?" (points to attractive girl). Me: "she's hot but we're fighting right now cause she hasn't asked to sit on my face yet.” Black Dress overhears, acts disgusted. Me: "What? I like outgoing girls.” She laughs.

1:20 a.m.: Silently wonder if I signed up for the Verizon plan that doesn't allow girls to call or text after midnight.




1:25 a.m.: I could eat a fucking zebra right now. Glad I had that banana at 8:30. God I’m an idiot.

1:30 a.m.: Sophomore and Junior argue about Black Dress. Head to dance floor with Black Dress to avoid crossfire. Prepare to intervene if things escalate.

1:35 a.m.: Last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer. Sophomore and Junior still arguing. Black Dress and I still getting our collective swerve on.

1:55 a.m.: Fight breaks out between two hillbillies with sleeveless shirts. Wonder if I’m "too dressed up" because I have sleeves on. Decide that their fight was probably about who's girlfriend/cousin would win the pie-eating contest at this summer’s county fair.

2:00 a.m.: Walking to the door. Black Dress: "I can't believe I didn't kiss anyone on New Year’s. She elects to kiss me, presumably because I’m right next to her and a “great dancer.”

2:00 to 2:15 a.m.: Junior thinks he's sober enough to drive Black Dress' dad’s truck to Fiancé and Baby Daddy's house. I disagree and tell him that. He insists and starts the truck. I open my door and get out. We get in a shouting match about whether or not he's too drunk to drive. I inform him my New Year’s resolution isn't to die in a fiery alcohol related crash after 3 hours. He stares at me. I tell him not to stare at me. He turns truck off.

2:15 a.m.: Victory piss behind the truck.

2:15 to 2:30 a.m.: More talking about how we're getting to a place to sleep. Junior either has cab number written on hand or cheated on a math quiz earlier in the day. Elected to wait a half hour before calling. I have aneurysm. No answer from cab store.

2:35 a.m.: I politely ask Junior for the cab number. He gives it to me and I dial, fully expecting a bilingual tug-of-war with a guy named Grwddxdcffstyg Jkggkkjjffeggijji. Get no answer. Great..

2:45 a.m.: Junior realizes he's not driving with me in the backseat and Sophomore is fully enforcing the "no wingman left behind" law. Junior gets out. I consider walking to Fiancé’s house to see if they had patched things up or if she needed "consoling” (i.e. an orgasm).

3:00 a.m.: Miraculously arrive at a hotel. Black Dress sprints barefoot to go pee while I carry her shoes in.

3:05 a.m.: Desk clerk cheerily informs us that a 2-bed room is $100. I cheerily inform Sophomore that I have $16. Sophomore not so cheerily gets out his Discover card..

3:10 to 3:25 a.m.: Piss..

10:30 a.m.: Wake up, make bet with self:

10:31 a.m.: Condoms still in the back of jeans. Knew it..