Friday, July 8, 2011

Dan's Guide to Internet Dating

It would appear that a lot of people are getting dates from the Internet. With that comes problems. Like, what happens if your date isn't what she said she was? What if the guy sent you pictures of what he looked like 40 years ago?
Here's my humble guide on how to handle a first Internet date.
Firstly scotch guard everything (including the trunk). It wouldn't hurt to scotch guard your clothing either.
Bringing trash bags, and duct tape shouldn't be out of the question either. What happens if she gets belligerent, one thing leads to another and she's dead? You don't want to get the cops involved, do you? No, you do not.
Always bring a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant on a date. Not for the morning after... no, just in case she needs it. Because nothing ruins a date like a ghastly odor.
Oh that reminds me, buy the odor resistant garbage bags.
It's always a good policy to keep lying to the woman. So I recommend keeping literature in your car that makes you appear to be smarter than you really are. Sadly you'll need to steer clear of certain types of literature and books. Namely avoid medical books, anything about serial killers, children's books, and racist propaganda.
If she turns out to be a beast, it's okay to buy her two meals and excuse yourself from the date. Being open and up front about your distaste of her will be greatly appreciated by your Internet date. The food is a nice gesture, since she probably finds solace in food.
Always keep a fresh supply of cement, quicklime, and gardening sheers. You never know when you may need it... for gardening...
Never pick up your Internet date at her place. Always meet her somewhere. What happens if your car breaks down? You're stuck with that on the side of the road.
I would also steer clear of having your Internet date pick you up. Do you really want them to know where you live? I know I don't. I have enough ugly girls trying to break in and kill my pets. You don't need that drama.
Never hit your Internet date. Not because it's wrong to hit girls, but because she may like it.
If your Internet date has a jealous ex boyfriend, don't worry. The guy is probably really weak from playing WoW all the time, and will probably just end up hurting himself.
If your Internet date is actually attractive, try to find out what's really wrong with her. She may have a penis, or she may be an amputee. Amputees are people too, you just don't want to be making out with her and realize her ass fell off.
well, hopefully this helps, ya'll.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Target Gurl

So the other day I decided to go to Target, and see if I could chat up Target girl. Now for those of you who don't know who Target girl is, all you need to know is she's the girl for me. She's super friendly, fit, and just the sight of her makes your teeth feel white and clean.

In order to talk to this girl I had to get something, since she primarily worked the cash register. I mean, I don't want her to think I'm some sort of weirdo who only goes to Target to hit on her. It's true, but she doesn't need to know that.

I wasn't sure what to get, so I thought about some of the coolest things I could get that would either impress her, or give her clues about my personality. Last week I bought deodorant, and a razor from her. I wanted to show her that I was a man who believed in smelling nice, and liked to have a freshly shaved face once in a while.

A few weeks before that I bought season one of the A-Team, and season two of Modern Family. I wanted to show her then that I had an appreciation for older television shows, and that I am also up-to-date on what's funny now. Not only that, but I have enough money in the bank to buy something that I could already watch on Netflix. I wanted her to see that I still felt there was value in supporting the things that you like.

Another time I wanted her to know that I had a nice car, so I bought leather seat wipes. I also bought hummus and pita bread, with some rice, and a medley of vegetables. That was to show her that I knew how to prepare food.

Unfortunately as soon as I walked in to Target I forgot that I came to talk to Target girl. So I panicked a little, and tried to remember what product I needed. In order to jog my memory I decided to wander the store.

As I was wandering I came across some Hello Kitty duct tape, and just had to buy it. Then I picked up some trash bags for some yard work I was doing, a cute little stuffed animal for my nephew, and some baby oil since I was going to paint the deck later that weekend (baby oil is good at removing latex paint).

As I was walking up to the checkout I realized the reason why I came. I was there to flirt it up with Target girl. Frantically I went searching for something, anything, to impress her with. I looked at food processors, something called a melon baller, TV's, weird self help books. Then in a moment of misbegotten clarity, I decided to pick up a big box of condoms.

My rationale for this was she would think that I was a firm believer in keeping sex safe, was disease free, and was of the middle class. The reason why I chose the big box of them was because I wanted her to think that I wasn't out of practice, and that I had a good social life.

As I proudly took my items up to the counter I realized my horrific mistake. I was getting Hello Kitty duct tape, trash bags, stuffed animal, baby oil and a lot of condoms. At worst I looked like a child predator. At best I looked like a slut.

When I got up to her, she noticed, and I came clean.

"I can explain, the stuffed animal is for my nephew, trash bags are for the garden, the baby oil is to remove paint, and the condoms are for... uh, a shelter. The Hello Kitty duct tape, however, is exactly what it appears to be."

Summerfest Memories

I'm going to Summerfest tomorrow. Going to watch my friends play on the Refugee stage, for the second summer in a row. It's always fun hanging out with those guys, even though I'm sure most of them will probably be violating the terms of their parole by leaving Madison.

I remember last year talking to Davy as he was disabling his ankle monitoring bracelet. We were discussing the finer things in life, like wine and the finest of cheeses, when we I realized he was leering at magazine cover with Dakota Fanning on the front.

"How many years in prison do you think I'd get if I kidnapped her", Davy said, wiping saliva from his mouth.

"I'm not sure, dude. I think that'd also be a federal crime. Are you sure you want to mess with that?"

Davy's shoulders sunk, "aw, I guess not."

Back then Joe was single, and he was in the middle of writing a pamphlet on making love during that time. I tried talking to him about the logistics of getting back home, and he would just describe vile, sex acts. In retrospect I think that was Joe's way of shutting down, and not letting anyone in. It was a dark time for Joe. His pet guinea pig died, and his weed dealer was on vacation.

Drew was kind of the same as he is now. But I remember with particular clarity that he was in the process of sexting a 16 year old Dutch foreign exchange student. Sickened by his pedophile nature, I was determined to set him straight.

"Drew, what the hell is wrong with you?""Dan, part of society's problem is that we threw out an arbitrary number, and said anyone younger than that number is off limits. When, in actuality, we've been fucking anything that could give birth since the beginning of time. Besides, this girls 16 now, but in 2 short years she'll be ready. I gotta mold her like Jell-o. Girls are like glove, paco. You got to break them in, or else they're of no use for you..."

Mooney at that time was just starting to get into wearing fashionably unfashionable hats. Most of our conversations centered around modern socialist philosophers, and the best type of pith helmet for a man on a budget.

Jeremiah, the quiet one of the group, spent most of his times back then reading books. Not normal books though. He would read erotic re-tellings of the Harry Potter books. While reading he would write between the margins, what Lord only knows.

One time I happened upon one of Jeremiah's books unattended. I was curious to read an erotic Harry Potter book, since I had never done so. It was then that the dark side of Jeremiah's brooding nature revealed itself.

Drawn in great detail on one of the pages was an enormous sketch of Jeremiah nude, having sex with Mars, and ejaculating flames on tiny Inuit villages. His subtle racism of the Inuit people became quite overt since that time.

Josh was the drummer back then, and his wife had just popped out kid number 2. Oh wait, no, she was just about to pop out kid number 2. I remember this vividly because he was busy drunkenly telling everyone who would listen. He spent 3 hours talking to a ground squirrel, attempting to show it pictures of his daughter, and ultrasounds pictures of his soon-to-be born son.

Chandon was by far the worst offender. Not a dame could walk by without him staring at them with that perverse grin on his face. His brow furrowed, a full can of PBR tipped as beer spilled to the ground in a steady cascade. He just sat there, mesmerized. I asked him what he was looking at. His response, after several moments, was, "dinner."

Top 25 Things I Say to Women

Top 25 Things I say to women:

  1. Don't wince
  2. Don't make it weird
  3. Pregnant women on Papau New Guinea can lift at least 50 pounds of potatoes on their heads. All I'm asking is that you push my car down the road half a mile so I don't waste gas. What? It has wheels.
  4. Either lose, like, five pounds immediately or get the hell out of my office.
  5. I'm not paying you $25 for a date. Because that makes me a john...
  6. What? I should be mad at you.
  7. They ran out of beer. Here's 5 shots of whiskey... hurry up.
  8. That doesn't get me off anymore. I'm into something... darker.
  9. Can we get your sister in the mix?
  10. Look I'm sorry. Well, okay, I'm not sorry.
  11. I love you. Now about those pictures I asked for...
  12. Act like you enjoy this. You're ruining the moment.
  13. I'd date you, but what if we got married and had kids? I couldn't look my kid in the eye and not feel guilty for marrying a woman who gave them such unfortunate faces.
  14. Just drink it. It's not like you'll remember anything anyway.
  15. I like you... um, I take that silence as, uh, sniff. I gotta go work out.
  16. Try not to touch my leather seats with your bare skin. It... sickens me.
  17. We're not going on a date. Because your mouth is huge. What happens when we kiss? I'm not going out how male praying mantises do.
  18. Why am I nude? Why aren't you?
  19. I think I misread the pamphlet...
  20. I killed this plant for you.
  21. Look at this... look at this... look at this. Awww, aren't bunnies cute?
  22. That too
  23. I wish you wouldn't kick me in the groin so much. I'm not complaining. It just hurts after a bit.
  24. Quick question... hair straightener, is it okay to leave on next to a stack of magazines?
  25. Please, stop talking about the guys you banged... I just met you.

My Time at Copp's

I'm in a foul mood, so I'm going to take it out on your eyes and your brain.

A few months ago I was leaving the Copps on the east side of Sun Prairie. I like going to that one because it's close to the high school, and well, high school girls have two things going for them: functioning metabolisms, and they have this faux sluttiness fueled by their insecurities.

I mean, who wasn't insecure a little bit in high school? We all were. That's why there was drama, that's why we wore clothes we swore we're never going to wear again.

Anyhow, so I like to look. Creepy? Not really. I'm not going out of my way to scope them out, I'm not going to try to bang them. Nah, I just want to see what an 18 year old girl looks like when she's not puking her guts out at a frat party.

So anyhow I'm leaving Copps with my Diet Coke, Perrier, and chocolate milk. Have you ever left a room and then all of a sudden been startled by someone just outside the door?

Well, that's what happened. Just as I was coming out of the doors I see these two high school girls. I accidentally checked them out, and accidentally gave them feedback in the form of a "hey what's going on, little lady". I didn't say it out loud, but my eyes screamed it pretty loud.

I felt pretty awful. I didn't mean to do it. I mean, my brain is programmed to react to boobs, and we consider people with youthful appearances to be beautiful. So I had no choice, it was all automatic. It's not like my brain is able to check their ID's, or make an assumption of age before it goes all "check that shit out".

Sadly, what's worse about this story is the reaction I got from the girls. They checked me out too, and their eyes screamed, "hey guy, what are you doing later?"

We share a nervous laugh, and I made my way to my car. Vowing not to go there again.

I guess I do have boundaries. Being eye-fucked by, hopefully, 18 year olds, makes me feel dirty. Dirty enough to call the police and try to turn myself. Seriously.

After I texted Joe Golemb, "Uh, dude, eye-fucked by younglings... am I going to jail?" I went to the Sun Prairie police, and asked them if I was going to jail. I explained what happened, and all they did was say, "Nice... just nice."

My Pet Peeves

Pet Peeves:

  • Pants on a warm day
  • Putting socks on
  • Making sure the shampoo covers my entire head
  • People who have 40 coupons, and don't bother telling the cashier until after everything's been totaled.
  • Finding a package of OREOS, only to find 1/3 of an OREO is left in the package.
  • Falling down stairs while holding a box
  • Waiting
  • People who don't get a joke, and try to correct me
  • Cellulite
  • Hats
  • 50 year old hippies with curly hair who won't let you brush their hair
  • Aging
  • Going on a first date and realizing in the first five minutes that the bitch be crazy boring
  • Eating most of a cupcake, only to find out on the last bite that it was moldy
  • Using the gym bathroom and noticing someone peed all over the seat
  • People who stop in the crosswalk
  • Honda Civics
  • Honda Fits
  • Smart cars, and people who think they're awesome
  • Going to ladies night, then realizing it's a gay bar
  • People who give me their philosophy on life while they're drunk at a bar on a Wednesday afternoon
  • Girls that don't tip me after a date
  • Sunburn and bad tattoos
  • Hearing a boring story twice
  • Hearing any story that doesn't relate to me
  • People who don't understand how great I am
  • People that light off a twenty minute barrage of fireworks at 2:30 in the morning
  • Old people yelling at me for doing something foolish, then asking me why I did it. I'm young, and in love, that's why I burned the word "Fuck" in your lawn, old man
  • Being proved wrong
  • Finding long strands of hair in my milk
  • Having someone tell me the book was better than the movie. No shit.
  • Road trips that end in Detroit
  • People who use the same five machines at the gym for over an hour, but use only two, until you come over

This is What I Do

The other day I came across a campus tour, and decided to lend a hand. I grabbed a red-shirt, found a gaggle of touristy looking kids and lead them on, what I like to call, Dan's Tour of the UW Campus, and its Auxiliary Bars, Head Shops and Porn Stores in Driving Distance.

I didn't really know much about the history of the campus, nor did I really know where the Chem building was. But I did teach them valuable lessons on what bars had the best drink specials, where you could score coke, and how to spot a coastie.

A lot of the kids didn't really seem to enjoy my lessons, and those kids were nerds, so I didn't care. What I did care about was this nubile looking brunette who kept giving me the doe eyes. I figured the best way into her pa... heart... was by losing the rest of the jerk-offs on the tour, and getting her drunk. Very drunk.

I couldn't get her drunk right away, since as you recall, I had a bunch of incoming freshmen to contend with. They started asking me all sorts of lame ass questions about the library, and the professors, and where John Muir's dorm was. Maybe they were just interested in the school they were going to go to in a few months, or they were trying to get between me and the nubile brunette.

I decided the best way to shut the tour group up, and get distract them while I went to my car and banged the brunette, was to take them to a bar, and get them hammered.

Sounds easy, right? Wrong. These kids must have been from out of state, because right before they entered the bar they hesitated. Classic newbie move. When you're going into a bar, and you're underage, you should never hesitate. That's a sure way to get carded. Thankfully it was a campus bar, so no one cared.

I knew that these kids had probably never touched a drop of booze in their life, so I bought the first round for all of them. One pitcher of Schlitz, and a for the lady I ordered a Bastard on the Beach. If you're unfamiliar with Bastard on the Beach, look it up.

I knew this girl would be all over me by stage two, The Dying Bastard, so I tried my best to separate myself and the girl from the tour group. It was going just fine until this walking Aeropostale ad comes over and starts telling me how awesome I am.

Now, I love me some compliments, but not when they get in the way of me taking advantage of a naive 18 year old. No sir. That is number one on my list of pet peeves, followed closely by girls that say "no".

But this kid isn't leaving, and he's coming dangerously close to my prey. It's about there that my Columbo investigatory skills pick up on what's going down. This kid is her boyfriend.

No matter, I say to myself, you've wormed your way into tighter positions. It's just a high school romance, their love isn't real. Besides, the pickings are still easy. Sure the younger guy may have been there for her when she got her first abortion, and sure he may still have hope in humanity, but I'm no slough. I have a car, a backseat, I can buy booze, and I have a cooler life than they could ever dream.

So I do what I had to do. I bought the guy a pitcher of Long Island Iced Tea, and pointed him towards the sluttiest girl in the tour. Thank God for rum, because the kid started taking some sips, and before any of us knew it he was talking about the Porsche his daddy bought him for graduation.

God damn it, a Porsche? All I got for graduation was a Wal-Mart gift card for $3.50.

There I was alone with this girl. Then I realized she drank all of the Bastard on the Beach. She was lights out, slurring, purring, and just about everywhere. Then she uttered the words every guy like me hates to hear, "w-where's my b-boyfriend?"

"Cheating on you in the alleyway."

"That prick, his daddy bought h-him a Porsche, y-you know?"

"Well, I bought myself a Milan. Want to see it..."

A Day in the Life of Dan

10:41 AM - Wake up, take a few moments to wait for the room to stop spinning.

10:53 AM - Room has not stopped spinning. Say, "fuck it," stumble out of bed. Rifle through piles of clothes, Perrier bottles, and pillows. Slam protein shake from fridge next to bed.

10:58 AM - Realize it's a weekday, and I need to get paid. Look in mirror to see if I need to take a shower.

11:03 AM - Still looking in mirror.

11:07 AM - Jump into shower, shaving face will need to wait until tomorrow.

11:10 AM - Deodorant: check. Ears clean: check. Hair pomaded: check (I can't believe pomaded is a word...). Teeth brushed: check. Floss: fuck it.

11:11 AM - Must find keys! Grab Greek yogurt for lunch and V8.

11:17 AM - No keys yet. Plead with God. Curse. Weep.

11:18 AM - Curse God.

11:19 AM - Take back what I said about God.

11:21 AM - Keys found out door.

11:22 AM - Look at MP3 player, think about what music I want to listen to on the ride in to work.

11:24 AM - I guess I can listen to Streetlight Manifesto again.

11:25 AM - Begin commute. Sext random girl. Hey baby. If I said you had a great body, would you send me pictures of it?

11:50 AM - Driving down East Washington in Madison, curse at all the terrible drivers. Flick off Subaru with liberal bumper stickers and Vermont license plate for going 25 in a 35.

11:52 AM - Have Subaru I flicked off pull up next to me at stop light. Try to find something to fidget with...

12:18 PM - Turn onto Park Street, and head towards St. Mary's hospital. Begin looking for a parking spot in the residential neighborhoods.

12:25 PM - Still looking for a freaking spot. Come up with silly Facebook status: Titanic Titties Titillate Titular Title Characters

12:28 PM - Parked, get stuff together, stagger into Alumni Hall.

12:31 PM - Look at clock... wonder out loud, "how did it take me 3 minutes to walk a half a block?"

12:32 PM - Get stopped by acquaintance. Talk about her kids.

12:43 PM - Make my escape, run up the two flights of stairs, and walk to my office.

12:46 PM - Look at watch. Wonder how it took me 3 minutes to get up 2 flights of stairs running.

12:47 PM - Enter office, say "hello" to Randy, and commence small talk.

12:48 PM - Small talk is over (we're guys, we don't need half an hour for small talk). Turn on computer. Try to remember password.

12:49 PM - On third attempt remember password. Check mail. Check Facebook. Send Facebook sext to different girl, I thought I saw you on the way in to work today. Turns out it was a hairy Italian. Get your mustache shaved, bitch. (Some girls are really in to abuse).

12:53 PM - Finish work. Hop on Internet. Look at pictures of cute animals. Curse every once in a while to make it look like I'm doing shit.

1:35 PM - Boss comes in, close YouTube video of Panda sneezing, maximize window containing spreadsheet.

1:36 PM - Listen to boss talk. Nod head. Be praised for coming in earlier than normal. Listen to boss talk about children. Try not to tell her about the time I saw her kid shoot up heroin, and kill a hooker.

1:59 PM - Say good bye to boss. Look at Facebook. Send chat message to girl from this morning, Did you get my sext? Uh, yeah, Dan. Can you stop doing that. Not gonna happen. You're an asshole, and I hope you get dick cancer. Won't happen, God loves me. Oh yeah, how do you know that? Because I was born a man. Listen, I'm getting hungry. Later...

2:05 PM - Pull out yogurt and V8. Slam V8. Look around desk for spoon.

2:06 PM - Make way to reception, steal spoons without receptionist noticing. Avoid eye-contact with people.

2:07 PM - Make sure Katie and Amy aren't in their office. Steal soda from fridge. Rifle through their desks, steal office supplies.

2:08 PM - Crack open soda, plop open yogurt.

2:09 PM - Clean yogurt spray out of eyes. Curse cows.

2:10 PM - Finish food. Bored. Tell Randy I'm hitting the dusty trail.

2:13 PM Get to car. Realize I left my keys in office.

2:16 PM - Get back to office to hear my co-workers talking about how fat my head has gotten. Nervously grab keys from desk.

2:19 PM - Hop in car... try to figure out what band to listen to on ride home.

2:21 PM - Streetlight Manifesto it is!

2:35 PM - Make impromptu pit stop on the way home to Copp's.

2:38 PM - Grab Perrier, seasoning salt, and Diet Coke. Pay in fast lane.

2:39 PM - Wonder how I was able to do all that in one minute... realize it's because I'm awesome.

2:40 PM - Take long way home, speed. Think about hot bitches.

2:55 PM - Get home. Change into gym attire, and plan to run.

3:00 PM - Sleep.

3:59 PM - Wake up to cat licking nose. Burst awake, and get started on supper.

___________ This Shit Is Hard to Write______ I'm so Sleepy________ I'll Finish this Tomorrow___________________

The Virtues of Pineapple Juice

This is an e-mail I sent at work, talking about the virtues of pineapple juice. Ya'll should read it, because pineapple juice is awesome.

Word. There's some pineapple juice in the fridge, yo. It's all good and shit. It's got 75% of your daily vitamin C, loads of other nutrients your body needs to fight bitches like the flu, the cold, the dehydration, and most importantly the need. Fight the need for getting down and dying from things like cancer, strokes, heart disease and that sugary bitch diabetes.

Grab a dixie cup, shake the pitcher, and pour that delicious health tonic in. Worried about calories? Pfft, ain't hardly a thang. Worried about sugar? Girl, it's all natural. Worried about lookin' like a fool? Drink this elixir and everybody else gonna look the fool, dawg.

Get your guzzle on, because this is the future. If Black Beard had access to this we'd be speaking pirate right now. Jesus drank this stuff, and we still talkin' about him. You know who didn't drink this? Jonathan Wilfred Ashleigh. Who is he you ask? Exactly.


Top 25 Things I Instantly Regretted Seeing on the Internet

Here's another request from Chandon. A list of things that I instantly regretted seeing on the Internet. This one will be hard because Chandon also requested that I do this list with a minimal amount of porn references. Since the Internet is 90% porn, I have my work cut out for me.

  1. A video of an elephant being hung
  2. Blue waffle
  3. Picture of an octogenarian at Wal-Mart in fishnets, sagging everywhere, with tons of hairy moles
  4. Pictures on Facebook of a girl being felt up. The story goes, a few years ago, I was dating this girl, and I was going to take her to the Field Museum in Chicago. Well the day we were supposed to leave, she told me that she wasn't feeling the best. So we didn't go. The next day up pop these pictures of her on Facebook at a party, getting groped and making out with other guys.
  5. Watching a 15 minute video of a kid with down syndrome trying to push a cart up a small flight of stairs.
  6. Any before and after picture of Tara Reid. She used to be so pretty
  7. Picture of worms living inside of a wound in some guy's skull
  8. Two words: Mouse Sandwich
  9. The scary metal version of that Rebecca Black song Friday.
  10. Kathy Griffin comedy special on YouTube. Oh God, it was awful
  11. Kid who snaps his leg doing gymnastics
  12. Video on hospital website of some kid getting a fish hook taken out of his eye
  13. BMI Pain Olympics. It's not porn... it can't be.
  14. Fat girl playing Wii bowling
  15. This Emo girl going off on "pretenders". It was horrible, I felt my sperm dying.
  16. Guy peeing into his own mouth
  17. Pictures of Snooki getting arrested
  18. A Craigslist ad where a 'straight' guy wanted to jack off another 'straight' guy
  19. Pictures on Facebook of a girl I accidentally gave a black eye to.
  20. Pictures of me drunkenly putting my hand dangerously far down a girl's shirt
  21. Morbidly flat chested girl, with huge muffin top, and back fat dressed as Princess Leia in the slave girl costume. I love that costume... that girl made me regret that.
  22. Anatomically correct costumes worn by a family of 4
  23. Guy with elephantiasis
  24. Goatsie
  25. Woman eating entire jar of Mayonnaise.

Top 25 Things I Instantly Regretted Putting in My Mouth

I guess I'm taking requests now. Chandon Vicarious (Kunz) has asked me to name 25 things that I've instantly regretted putting in my mouth. This is actually going to be a journey. I've already blocked my family from reading this. This is going to be a little embarrassing, but here goes it.

I tagged people in this, fear not, if you were tagged you weren't one of the top 25. I just tagged you because in some small way you may have been involved, or can give valuable insight.

  1. Moldy elephant ear (
  2. Calcium crust from a filter at Pet Smart
  3. A scary black man's mouth. I didn't put it in there... he did. It was rape.
  4. This super strong jalapeno pepper
  5. There was this girl who had extremely bad breath, and when I kissed her I regretted it
  6. A very green, celery, whey, and some other plant smoothie
  7. Post-coital labia with a fresh taste of latex
  8. My dog's tongue. My older brother and sister said they would give me $5 if I let our dog Mindy eat a piece of macaroni and cheese off of my tongue. It's been almost 20 years since that happened and I have yet to see a dime.
  9. A drill. I was getting a cavity filled, and the anesthetic didn't take.
  10. I forget the reason, but I tried fitting a large bottle in my mouth once. Instantly regretted it because my jaw popped.
  11. A bee
  12. Deodorant. My first few semesters in college I was a little disoriented in the morning. A few times I would accidentally put tooth paste in my hair instead of hair gel, or poke my eyes with Q-tips. One morning I tried using my deodorant as a toothbrush.
  13. Stress Coat. Anyone who worked at Pet Smart... I'm fucking tagging you. You all were there.
  14. A turnip
  15. A cockatiel's head. Okay, I instantly regretted it because a manager saw me do it. If you must know, the bird was alive, and actually was pretty cool with it. He was also very tame... I was young and stupid. (
  16. Another time working at Pet Smart I was cleaning out filters and fish poop and stuff splashed into my mouth
  17. Still at Pet Smart, I accidentally got dead fish juice in my mouth. It sprayed up at me... and the thing had been dead a while.
  18. Long Island Iced Tea. Anyone who was at Fat Jacks, will remember that. I'm tagging you bastards too.
  19. Venison. I love Bambi
  20. Road salt... the stuff they put on roads in winter. Joe Golemb and I grew up together, and I must have been a 6th grader. We were sitting near the doors waiting for our parents to finish up drinking at the bar to pick us up, when I see Joe holding this white thing. It looked like candy, and Joe was always bringing weird candy and shit to school, so I thought it was some sugary treat. He offered it to me for some reason, I popped it in my mouth, and you know the rest.
  21. A live wire
  22. A humming bird. No shit. I was in my yard one day, trying to figure out the garden hose situation, and all of a sudden there's this violent, bizarre fluttering in my mouth
  23. Cat litter
  24. Anything from Fat Sandwich. I love that shit, but I regret it later.
  25. This Iraqi girl I was making out with once asked me to let her feel my tongue. I felt both violated, and stupid instantly.

So much more. Well, if you have any suggestions on what I should write about next, either post it to my wall or in the comments or sext me. I don't think any other topic will be as uncomfortable to write than this.

I'm Not Shallow; I Just Don't Want Dead Babies

Why does everyone think I'm creepy? Okay, don't answer that. Why do people I don't know think I'm creepy?

So I went to the mall to snag some clothing with which to show off my enormous biceps. As I was browsing, I hear over the intercom, Security camera to section C.

I look around, and notice, I'm in section C. The only person in section C. Then I notice three employees congregating a distance away from me. They were making uncomfortable glances my way.

What the...

I decided to casually make my exit, all the while wondering what it is about me that gets people so worked up. Maybe it has something to do with the way that I go through stores. I do act like a hummingbird with ADHD and OCD when I shop. I'll walk up to a rack, feel a shirt, sit there and think about how I would look in the shirt, and how it would fit. Then I move on to another display across the store. Then I come back, fester, and move on again. I'm particular, what can I say?

Don't Taze Me

Why does everyone think I'm creepy? Okay, don't answer that. Why do people I don't know think I'm creepy?

So I went to the mall to snag some clothing with which to show off my enormous biceps. As I was browsing, I hear over the intercom, Security camera to section C.

I look around, and notice, I'm in section C. The only person in section C. Then I notice three employees congregating a distance away from me. They were making uncomfortable glances my way.

What the...

I decided to casually make my exit, all the while wondering what it is about me that gets people so worked up. Maybe it has something to do with the way that I go through stores. I do act like a hummingbird with ADHD and OCD when I shop. I'll walk up to a rack, feel a shirt, sit there and think about how I would look in the shirt, and how it would fit. Then I move on to another display across the store. Then I come back, fester, and move on again. I'm particular, what can I say?

My Mentoring Service

Nothing says "I love you" to a girl than taking her on a breath-taking tour of Italy. Unless, of course, she's not your girlfriend; barely knows who you are; and repeatedly begs you to let her go home and see her family.

This is just one of the many life lessons I had to learn on my own. But you don't have to fumble through life like I did. For only $15 a day (or a case of beer) I'm willing to be your mentor.

Guys, girls, things in-between; I'll mentor anything! You name it, I'll mentor it.

You name something foolish, or self-destructive, and I've done it. Spent too much on a friend? I did that. Drunk dialed some random chick? I did that so many times, I'm on a police watch-list.

Don't feel like paying me $15, or a case of beer? I'm willing to barter. You got old video games? That's good enough for me. Got whiskey and mouth wash instead of beer? That's fine by me. Got boobs? Jackpot!

Don't let this once in a lifetime opportunity pass you by. At least let the $800 I spent on some girl mean something.

I see some trepidation in your eyes. "How can someone so terrible at life, be relied upon to be an effective mentor?" That's a very reasonable, yet dickish, question to be asking me. I'm actually at messing up my life. I'm actually an amazing advice giver. Don't believe me? Who do you think told the Beatles to make music?

Not me, but I would have, had I been alive back then.

My Final Will: And Damn You Poseidan

I'm going on a boat today. If I don't make it back I want you all to know that I died without a single shred of humility, or regret. I want you all to weep for a period of six weeks after the news of my death, and during my funeral I'd like for a minimum of 3 women to faint.

If they find my body, I'd like you to spare no expense filling every cavity with gems, then coating the exterior of my corpse with gold. Do this after the funeral, though. I want people to gaze upon the beauty of my face one last time before my earthly remains are committed to the marble mausoleum I expect you all to build in my honor.

I leave all my worldly electronics to my brother, my gerbils to my sister, my computer to a fire, my notes that have never been published to Ryan Reynolds, and my re-refrigerator back to my sister (since it's yours anyway). I ask that you take my ironic t-shirts and frame them, and hang the shirts in places of honor. I ask that my underwear, undershirts, and jeans be cut into pieces and sold on Ebay. With the proceeds I expect you to begin researching a cure for drowning. Then reanimate me.

To all the ladies that have mild crushes on me right now I say, "get on me". To the ladies who were in love with me, I say, "you're probably fat. Don't steal my body". To the ladies that think I'm an asshole, "perhaps if you put out a little more, and wore some make-up, I would have been a little nicer to you." To the women who are indifferent to me, "what are you gay?" To my parents, "I'm sorry... you aren't going to be proud of any of this". To my brother, "make sure when your son Levi wins the Super Bowl, he thanks me". To my sister, "stop telling me how to write my will!" To Ingrid I say, "sorry I was a bastard, and make sure my sister takes good care of my gerbils." To anyone who wants me to give them a private good-bye message (or public) please ask in the comment section, or sext me.

Just know that as I sink deeper and deeper into the dark abyss that is Lake Michigan, fighting Cthulhu in a totally rad way, I want you all to know that I will be singing in my head the final verse to Abide with Me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes; shine through the gloom and point me to the skies. Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me

And if I don't die... I will rule you all someday.

Dan's Guide to Understanding Men-Folk

Guys are generally pretty upfront about what they want, but sometimes we say stuff that can be a little confusing. I think women have a hard time interpreting the compliments we give them. So, to help the ladies out, I'm going to give you a list of words, or phrases, that men use, and what those words or phrases really mean.

"You look hot." I want to bang you, but not right now.

"You look so hot." I want to bang you, right now.

"You're looking good." I'd be willing to bang you, if I was drunk and no one knew.

"You're looking pretty good." I may bang you. You'll definitely need to lose some weight, and have some sort of reconstructive surgery on your face, though.

"Damn girl, you look fine." I'd like to bang you, but the moment I see something better I'm gonna be all up in her business.

"Damn girl, lookin' fiiiine." I'm pretending to be black in hopes that I will somehow trick myself into thinking your fat ass is attractive.

"You look gorgeous." I want to bang you, but in a classy sort of way.

"Gorgeous." I'm going to molest you.

"You look super gorgeous." I want to bang you, but have no means to do so, because I can't possibly be classy enough. The adjective, super, in the sentence actually changes the tense of the sentence from serious and focused, to almost casual and humorous.

"You look great." I might bang you, but I'm not in a hurry. You're like bread in the grocery store. Always there, never in short supply, and the least exotic thing I can put in my mouth.

"You look super great" I'd bang you, if I knew for sure you were born female.

"You look amazing." I want to bang you, take you to meet the parents, and I want to admire your teeth for a while.

"You're cute." I want to bang you, then see a movie with you and have malts afterward.

"You're so cute." I want to bang you, but I also want to bang bunnies, teddy bears, and my childhood.

"You're so fucking cute." I want to kill you, you annoy me.

"You're adorable." I want to bang you, rainbows, kitten noses and Alyssa Milano [see "You're so cute"]

"You're delicious/scrumptious." I want to bang you seductively, put you in chocolate, then literally eat you.

"You're looking sexy." You look like a pornstar, and I want to bang you.

"You're sexy." You always look like a pornstar, and I still want to bang you.

95 Answers and Bitches Ain't One

1. what are three ways to win your heart?

  1. Cotton Candy
  2. Cleavage
  3. Back rubs

2. do you like lightning?

Yes. Especially when it causes fire. Fire cleanses.

3. have you ever cut someone else’s hair?

Yes. Did they ask me to? No

4. last person you said ‘i hate you’ to?

I told my postman I hated her today.

5. rain or sunshine?

Is this a euphemism. I'm not gay.

6. last stupid thing you said to anyone?

I'll pay for that.

7. biggest turn off?


8. fave movie?

That movie where the pig befriends a spider, then the spider bites the pig, and then the pig bursts open and baby spiders come out of the pig, and the pig dies. That movie.

9. would you date someone who smokes?

Smokes what? I ain't no pink-lunged sissy boy.

10. would you date someone who was addicted to drugs?

Short answer: Yes. Long answer: Also yes. I always wanted to date a jonesing meth addict. They're so twitchy and full of life.

11. what’s your biggest turn on, physically?

I'd have to say the boobs.

12. would you have sex w. someone you weren’t dating?

Better question: Would I have sex with someone I was dating? The answer is, depends on how long she can hold her breath.

13. have you ever missed someone and regretted breaking up with them?

I may have missed certain things. But thankfully other women had those certain things... so no.

14. have you ever dated someone more than once?

Why? If you burn your hand on a stove, are you really going to do it again?

15. if you could go on ONE DATE with any celebrity, who would it be?

Ryan Reynolds. Let me finish. I'm not gay, but I just want to hang out with that dude.

16. what’s your relationship status?

I'm single, bit I like to mingle.

17. do you like cuddling?

Who doesn't like squeezing bitches and holding them? People that were molested... that's who.

18. do you hold grudges?

Fuck that noise. I have a hard enough time remembering people's names. I can't remember their name and remember if I'm pissed at them or not.

19. do you regret dating anyone?

I regret nothing.

20. hugger or kisser?

Thankfully I can multitask.

21. missing someone?

I kind of miss that bunny I petted at the pet store a few weeks ago. So soft.

22. most important lesson you’ve learned from your exes?

Never ask them if they want to get their little sister in the mix. Also, be your own person, and don't let anyone define you, and never lot other people affect your mood.

23. are you happier single or in a relationship?

I'm happy all the time. If you're unhappy you do something about it.

24. how important are looks?

Fairly important if you think about it. I'm probably not going to have much in common with a 300 pound chick, or heroin addict. Nor am I physically attracted to husky bitches or skeletors. And butterfaces... well you gotta kiss that face.

It's evolution.

25. would you rather date someone who was SUPER-HOT or someone who was nice?

Super hot only goes so far. I mean, if she's hot, but the date is like getting a root canal through the dick, I'm gonna date the nice girl.

26. do you stay friends w/ the people you’ve dated?

You don't post naked pictures of them on your Flickr account, and you only date cool people.

27. would you fight over someone you wanted to be with?

Yes. But if I meet a chick at a bar, sometimes the fight isn't worth it. I haven't invested much into it, so I could go either way.

28. do you kiss on the 1st date?

I fuck on first dates.

29. if someone cheated on you, would you take them back if you really loved them?

I have this policy. If they cheat while you're dating, it's a good idea to end the relationship. Dating is the trial period. If you get married, and they cheat, you can either work it out or not. But if we're dating and she cheats, there's a very good chance it's over.

30. some random girl comes up to you and says “who the hell are you”? What do you say back?

I'm Dan Samuelson you cunt-toothed Jezebel. Now stop looking at me, because I fear you're making me fat through visual osmosis.

31. are you spoiled?

Oh, Lord, yes. But look at me.

32. name three things you would not tolerate in a relationship?

  1. Cutting my face while I'm asleep
  2. Banging a hobo for spare change
  3. Wincing

33. which one of your friends do you think would make a good prostitute?

Joe Golemb

34. did you miss anyone today?

Was I already asked this question? I guess, besides the bunny, I miss my LEGO room

35. last person to see you cry?

I don't cry. It would ruin the World's perception of me. I'm a motherfucking lumberjack.

36. Who/what made you cry?

Feminine hygiene at its worst... that would make me cry. If I cried.

37. are you a forgiving person?

I'm a forgiving machine!

38. would you ever share a girl/boyfriend with your best friend?

You talkin' three-way? Probably not... unless my best friend was a chick, and my girlfriend was all like, "let's bang your best friend." But then I'd be like, "wait, you aren't just using this situation as a stepping stone to finally come out as a lesbian are you?" Then she'd go, "actually yes." Then I'd say, "But we'd still get to have the three-way..."

39. i’ve come to realize the last person who gave me a hug…

My mom. I was having a bad day.

40. are most of your friends guys or girls?

Fair mix, really. I just think of girls as dudes with small wieners. They are to be pitied.

41. how long does it take you to get ready to go out ?

8 minutes... tops. I'm a dude, I don't need to do much to look amazing.

42. how many people do you know of named Adam ?

Uh... I'm not gay.

43. are any of your friends cheerleaders ?

Wish they were. Then I'd be all like, "pyramid time", and jump on her back and make her hold me up while I cheered.

44. what was the last thing you burnt ?


45. what is your full name?

Rod Manstrong

46 what color is the bra you have on now ?

Oh, this is totally a list of questions for chicks. Damn you Facebook!

47. do you straighten your hair every day?

Why? I shave them?

48. do you worry about the size of your boobs?

I do. Sometimes I worry if the girl's boobs are too small my friends will make fun of me.

49. are you the typical girl who’s addicted to gossip?

I'm not a girl, but I love gossip

50. what are your favorite girly magazines?

The one's with them naked ladies in them

51. did you ever spend all day/night getting pretty for a guy?

Only if he promises to buy me dinner, keep his hands off my muscles

52. did you ever cry during a romantic movie?

I never cry... but I do get a little vercklempt at the end of Zoolander

53. would you leave the house without makeup on?

All the damn time.

54. what’s the biggest turn on about guys?

Not having penises, having boobs, and not being guys

55. are you a girly-girl, tomboy, or in the middle?

I'm a man.

56. is pink truly the best color in the entire universe?

No... clear is.

57. what’s the most expensive piece of clothing you own?

My coat. That shit set me back $200 on sale. I look good in it though.

58. what color do you absolutely despise?

If you despise shit like colors, you're a fucking psycho

59. have you ever stole?

I steal women's hearts (and Social Security cards) all the time

60. have you set your hair on fire?

No. I'm not a moron.

61. do you wear sweat pants?

Only in the winter, to the gym.

62. do you know anyone who has lost their virginity?

Yeah, their names are everyone

63. have you ever ran into a door because you didn’t see it?

No, but a door ran into me once

64. doesn’t 50 Cent suck?

No. He is a scary black man who survived being shot. I will not anger anyone who is those two things.

65. do you like hugs and kisses(xoxo:))?

You asked that ages ago

66. do you act gangster?

I'm white, and I have a personality. So no.

67. ever made a prank phone call?

Yeah, but I couldn't imagine how shitty a prank call from a girl who answers the questions would be.

68. last kiss?

Yesterday, after I told a girl to lose weight.

69. what bill do you hate paying most?


70. where was the last place you had a romantic dinner?


71. what did you want to be when you were growing up?

Fighter Pilot, then a porn star. I hit puberty around the age of 7.

72. favorite NON sexual thing to do at night with a guy?

Drink heavily

73. when did you first start feeling older?

When my knees started to hurt

74. favorite guilty pleasure?

Adopting an orphan, then giving him up to a different, even seedier, orphanage days later

75. what famous person(s) would you like to have dinner with?

Ryan Reynolds.

76. what famous person would you like to date?

Emma Stone for some reason

78. what do you hate about your school?

Their strict no nudity policy

79. last person whose bed you laid in besides your own?

I don't need a bed to pleasure a woman!

80. have you lost a friend recently?

No. They know the way back home.

81. ever have a sleepover with the opposite sex?

Yes, and how

82. do you use smiley faces on the computer a lot?

Not a lot, but you have to so that people know you're joking

83. is it easier to forgive, or to forget?

Forget. After falling it's super hard to remember

84. do you give out second chances too easily?

So easy I'm called the Lindsay Lohan of second chances

85. is your best friend pretty?


86. is it awkward when you run into your exes?

Yeah. I'm kind of a big guy, so I feel bad if I knock them down

87. have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle?

I call it my mobile locker room

88. can you make yourself cry?

I am an ACTOR!

89. is your life simple or complicated?

That's a choice, and my choice is simple

90. are you easily confused?


92. are you taller than 5′4″?

I'm longer than 6... er, yes,

93. have you ever liked someone who treated you like crap?

I love being treated like crap.

94. is your current hair color mostly your natural hair color?

Not mostly. All

95. does everything really happen for a reason?

Yeah, assholes.

Now that I'm Old

As most of you are aware, I'm struggling with old age issues. I wish I could turn back the sands of time, but sadly my life of excess has made that impossible. Here then, is a list of the things that I struggle doing now that I'm old, and a list of stuff that I'm better at now that I'm old.

I write these lists so that today's youth may understand the plight of the average geriatric, such as myself.

Things I have difficulty doing:

  • Waking up. Every morning it feels like I slept in a ditch full of rocks and bourbon, even if I got a good 8 hours of sleep.
  • Brushing my teeth. I still brush regularly, but sometimes that shit just gets old. And my arms get sore.
  • Shampooing. Again so much movement involved with this. It's like a marathon to get all the shampoo out.
  • Buying clothes. I try to stay hip, but what's hip is colorful and confusing.
  • Picking up women is hard. I've regained the standards that I lost in my youth. Now instead of looking for a really hot girl, I look for a woman who will accept me for being a man-child, has a steady job, condo and affordable dental insurance.
  • It's now much more difficult to get drunk. Most nights are spent fruitlessly taking shot after shot trying to get the girl who's coming on to me to look halfway decent.
  • It's hard kneeling down these days.
  • It's harder showing enthusiasm.
  • Putting on pants is a challenge.
  • Finding socks is another one.
  • Watching television is kind of pointless. If it's not a bunch of singing, gay, high-school students, it's some short, gay, bald guy telling a girl she's too husky to wear chiffon.
  • The goal of working out has changed from, "getting jacked", to "I'm bored".
  • The prettiest girl I know handles my mortgage payments.
  • Buying tons of alcohol gives me the respect of my peers... too bad they're all middle-aged alcoholics.
  • I can no longer count on Taco Bell providing me with a sensible meal that won't ruin my entire week.
  • Getting 3 hours of sleep is no longer enough to fuel me for 48 hours of no sleep.
  • Pamela Anderson has gone from sex symbol to a reminder to get an STD check every 6 months.
  • I don't drink tea to make fun of old people anymore. I do it so I don't die from the flu.
  • There's a very real chance I will accidentally kill myself changing a light bulb.
  • An ideal date now involves substantive things, and finding out who she is and what she cares about. Not nip slips anymore.
  • I wonder to myself if my dog is getting enough carbohydrates in her diet.
  • I wonder what this whole potassium thing is all about.
  • I begin to ask really difficult questions like, who discovered milk, where's my social security, and why is my penis more tan than the rest of my body.
  • I no longer rock climb to have fun. I'm just trying to off myself and make it look like an accident.
  • When talking to pretty girls on Facebook, I can't help but fear they're really Chris Hanson from To Catch a Predator.
  • I'm good at stuff, and people know it, so they ask me to do that stuff for them.

My Teaching Time

Forget about getting old, kids. It sucks. Every morning feels like you're picking yourself up from the world worst hangover, even though you had nothing to drink the night before. Aches, pains, saggage, weird marks on your body, and a bunch of scars no one thinks are cool anymore.

You're too cynical to want to go back in time and re-live your life. You know you'd rather kill yourself than go through high school again. Sure, back when you were a kid, and a cheerful mother fucker, you were keen as shit to go to school. Now you're world weary. It's like falling at Devil's Lake. Was it awesome? Yes. Did hitting every rock on the way down hurt? Yes. Would I consider it a defining moment in my history? Yup. Do I wanna fall off a fucking cliff again? No thank you.

You go to the gym and you see these kids strutting around like they're the cock of the block. Wait until their metabolism slows and their parents stop paying for their supplements at GNC. Wait until they realize everyone is out to steal their little piece of heaven, and the only solace they'll find is in a bar, or at Fat Sandwich.

Wait until that little princess, he can't stop blathering on about, gets knocked up by some guy named T-Wayne. Wait until his fucking standards get so low he's willing to bang a fat girl with "a nice upper lip".

Yeah, getting old lets you do cool shit. I get to buy booze and cigarettes, and drive around in rented cars. But I know this world is gonna fucking suck my soul out of my body if I'm not careful

My Comings and Dealings

I was dancing having a great timer, and noticed a foxy little lady in the corner sipping delicately from a glass. I made my way over, grinding on whatever object got in the way of my thrusts, and made a snappy entrance.

"Girl, tell me what I gotta do to get next to you."

She must have seen me coming a mile away. How could she not? I was clearly the most attractive man-beast in there. All the ladies (and some dudes) eyes were on me. How could they not be? Her retort was coy and playful.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, guy? There's no music playing, why are you dancing?"

Well shit. I was pretty drunk. I thought music was playing. Thankfully the Lord blessed me with a quick thinking brain.

"Baby, there's music all around. But what do you say we make some of our own sweet music... in my car. [in a whisper] It has leather seats..."

She gave me this horrified, disgusted look. I've seen that look before. She was into what I was throwing down.

"If I said you had great eyes, would you hold them against me?"

"My eyes? Are you asking me if I'd put my eyes on you? What the hell is wrong with you?"

It was obvious this girl was like a fine roast nearly cooked to perfection. All I needed to do was close the deal.

"I'm gonna be up front with you. I'm the President Obama's son. That's right. He's my dad, we go way back."

"Let me get this straight, you ass hole. You, a very white stupid looking drunk guy, expect me to believe your father is the president. A BLACK guy?"

"Whoa, let's not get racial."

"No, leave. My boyfriend is gonna be here any minute and he's gonna kick your ass."

"I'm sorry, I thought for sure you'd be a liberal. This is Madison isn't it. I'm sorry my dad isn't white, lady. Why you gotta, why you gotta get your boyfriend to beat me up for that. You got a, you got a beef?"

By this time I had her pinned. The web of lies she built were beginning to unravel. It was only a matter of time before she fell to the powers of my seduction.

"Leave me alone you asshole."

"Girl, you need to check the food chain for a second. You have something we in the medical profession call 'Thunder Thighs', all right? Second your eyebrows are too thin, and your glasses make you look like a magician. Don't get me started on your tits. Are you smuggling wet socks filled with door knobs? They're sad tits. Like mournful tits. Sad like a kid with Progeria cracking all his ribs trying to catch a NERF ball... two suicide notes stuffed in a bra sad."

Things got a little heated after that. She hit me in the face and we were both removed from the premises. I think that's the last time I drink before bingo.

Dan's Guide to Flirting

It's Spring and that means ladies are wearing revealing tops. This directly correlates to an increased number of flirtations produced by men every hour. Indeed, flirtations during the warmer months are 65% higher than during months colder than 40 degrees Fahrenheit.

I understand many people read my notes, and take to heart the advice that I give. I believe they do this for good reason; simply I'm wise, and well versed in the dance we call social interactions. Because of my Gift I will impart a few truths about flirting.

  • Even though women wear push-up bras and low-cut shirts, we're still not allowed to look at their chests. I'm not sure why they wear that stuff, but they get pretty worked up if you glance at their chest. It's like a game to them.
  • When buying a woman drinks, try to get her to do shots. It'll get her drunk quicker, and save you from tedious conversation.
  • If a woman you're interested in is trying to pick out clothes to wear, and asks you for your opinion, kindly excuse yourself and never come back. This girl is not interested in you. You're in the friend-zone.
  • Always have a strong breath mint, or piece of gum with you. You never know when some babe wants you to put your tongue in her mouth.
  • Never brag about previous conquests to a girl you're flirting with. How would you feel if she talked about that time she banged a bus full of hockey players.
  • Refrain from making date rape jokes. A recent study has shown 75% of a woman's day is spent fearing potential rapists.
  • Women poop. Sometimes it can be worse than what comes out of men.
  • Never get into a gross out contest with a woman. They are naturally better equipped at playing gross out. I mean... they got their own lady problems that are pretty horrific.
  • Always hold the door open for a woman. The only exception to this rule is if the new Batman movie is out in theaters and there's only a few tickets left. Then it's every man or woman for them-self.
  • Women go nuts for flowers. Which is pretty weird. Essentially you're giving her over-priced dead plants that will dry out in a few days. It makes no sense, they just love the crap.
  • Nothing goes in your butt. I don't care how cute she is. Your butt is not a toy.
  • Cut your toe nails.
  • Don't talk about your balls. Lord knows they're the center of your universe, but you don't need her knowing that.

My Biggest Revelation Yet

The other day I was thrusting in front of the mirror, checking out what little God gave me in the muscle department, when it dawned on me.

I slammed the wine bottle I was drinking, and made my way out of my room of mirrors to tell the world what I had just realized. Since no one was home I jumped in my car, still wearing only a towel, and made my way to my Fortress of Danitude: Target.

If you're a regular reader of my adventures you know that I love Target, I love their mirror aisle, and I'm not allowed in there because I broke a geriatric security guard's hip.Nonetheless, this revelation was too grande to let a restraining order get in my way.

I burst through the automatic doors and screamed, "Nobody fucking move!"

The geriatric security guard, still healing from the hip-replacement, dove to the ground whimpering, "that asshole's come to finish me off..."

In retrospect probably could have toned my entrance down, but I was in the moment, and the world needed to hear the gospel. I grabbed one of the employee's radio's and screamed, "bring 6 large mirrors to the front. High-gloss, ASAP". I then turned to a growing formation of confused red shirts.

"Lock the exits, round up all the shoppers and employees. Bring everyone to the front of the store. Don't be a hero."

They must have felt the urgency in my voice, because they did everything I asked in record time. I guess this is how Paul felt when he preached the Good News to the Ephesians.

As soon as everyone had gathered around, and the 6 mirrors I requested were situated, I began to tell the people what I had learned.

"My dear people, I have figured out what the deal with the Easter Bunny is. The day we celebrate Easter changes every year, so it basically "hops" around the calendar. What else hops? Bunnies. Hence the Easter Bunny is a great metaphor for Easter!"

I don't think many of them understood what I was saying. But no one understood what Einstein was babbling about until well after he died from that drug overdose in Graceland. They just sat there, some of them weeping, furrowing their brows.

I'm just too smart for the 21st century.

The Things I Did on My Summer Hiatus

Come May I will not have a job for a month (or more). Therefore I'll need some things to do. Here are a few things I have planned:

  • Get some of that sweet unemployment money I hear about
  • Finally finish shaving my cats
  • Try to sleep in every room in my home
  • Try to sleep outside without being eaten by a bear, coyote, or raccoon
  • Lure squirrels with a kiddie pool filled with seeds and berries
  • Work on personal fitness
  • Work on becoming a functioning alcoholic like Charlie Sheen
  • Counsel gerbils. Plead with them to stop breeding
  • Finally write up my will
  • Landscaping
  • Manscaping
  • Capture an outdoor bird to see if it will befriend me
  • Call around, see what pizza places will deliver to my address
  • Write fan mail to Ryan Reynolds and Ellen Page
  • Try to determine if Emma Watson is attractive
  • Lust after gold
  • Watch The Simpsons. See what jokes I've been missing
  • Quietly weep in the shower
  • Go to Assisted Living home in gorilla suite. Try to startle the elderly
  • Overcome fear of toilet
  • Pretend I'm retired and make it a routine to visit a local diner daily. Get to know staff and regulars.
  • Try my hand at pimping
  • Go down to Chicago. Sell my wares from the back of van.
  • Finally discover why I keep waking up naked, despite going to bed fully clothed
  • Teach neighborhood children that anything is possible... unless you have MS
  • Extort protection money from lemonade selling child
  • Go to the zoo. Attempt to feed the polar bear seal
  • Capture small Mexican child. Call him Pele. Raise him as my own
  • Befriend ants. Learn from them
  • Ask Pope for money

The Humble Fly

As the sun warms our little spot on this mostly blue planet, I'm reminded of the tiny bugs and insects scrambling to survive. I've always fought for the plight of the our minuscule comrades, as far back as fourth grade.

Ah yes, I remember the first time I realized the quiet majesty of these creatures when two house fly decided to land on my leg and mate. It was during one of my fourth grade teacher's numerous lectures.

I sat there stunned as these two bugs went at it on my knee. I dared not swoosh them away, because even at that tender age I knew that what was happening on my knee was beautiful.

Like a child seeing his parent's wrestle for the first time, I was confused, and unsure of what to do. I decided to recruit the assistance of my teacher. I raised my hand...

"Mrs. Cuff, these flies are mating on my leg".

"Well, just swap them, Daniel."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't!"

From that moment on I realized that all creatures were just like me. Just trying to survive, and get some ass whenever possible. Those mightily humble creatures had enough to worry about in their short lives. Who was I to ruin, what could have been, the happiest moments of those bugs' lives?

And now, today, I try to let bugs live their life. When I play basketball I take care not to crush the little ants scurrying about the court. When swimming I go to great lengths to save drowning bugs. I save bugs and insects from certain death at the multiple hands of spiders.

In fact when I see a spider trying to eat a hapless bug I try to show the spider that it doesn't need to suck the life force out of other animals. I try to show the spider that it can survive on tofu and strawberries.

The world is a harsh place for these little creatures. Why must we add to their growing list of problems?

Oh and fuck mosquitoes, those things are bastards.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Humble Fly

As the sun warms our little spot on this mostly blue planet, I'm reminded of the tiny bugs and insects scrambling to survive. I've always fought for the plight of the our minuscule comrades, as far back as fourth grade.

Ah yes, I remember the first time I realized the quiet majesty of these creatures when two house fly decided to land on my leg and mate. It was during one of my fourth grade teacher's numerous lectures.

I sat there stunned as these two bugs went at it on my knee. I dared not swoosh them away, because even at that tender age I knew that what was happening on my knee was beautiful.

Like a child seeing his parent's wrestle for the first time, I was confused, and unsure of what to do. I decided to recruit the assistance of my teacher. I raised my hand...

"Mrs. Cuff, these flies are mating on my leg".

"Well, just swap them, Daniel."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't!"

From that moment on I realized that all creatures were just like me. Just trying to survive, and get some ass whenever possible. Those mightily humble creatures had enough to worry about in their short lives. Who was I to ruin, what could have been, the happiest moments of those bugs' lives?

And now, today, I try to let bugs live their life. When I play basketball I take care not to crush the little ants scurrying about the court. When swimming I go to great lengths to save drowning bugs. I save bugs and insects from certain death at the multiple hands of spiders.

In fact when I see a spider trying to eat a hapless bug I try to show the spider that it doesn't need to suck the life force out of other animals. I try to show the spider that it can survive on tofu and strawberries.

The world is a harsh place for these little creatures. Why must we add to their growing list of problems?

Oh and fuck mosquitoes, those things are bastards.

Friday, March 18, 2011

And I'm the Asshole?

So here I am suffering from some sort of plague, and so-called medical professionals won't go off script, listen to me, and help my sorry-immune-deficient ass. So I decide to go to the grocery store pharmacy and self-medicate.

Now I'm a pro at self-medicating, but usually my ailments are more emotional in nature, and instead of going to a pharmacy, I go to a bar. But with my new found maturity, after turning 27, I decided that I was wise enough to medicate my physical ailments as well.

So there I am, lingering in the cold and flu aisle, darting from one box to another trying to find which brand has a remedy for my symptoms. I must have looked absolutely lost because out of nowhere this blubbery woman with unkempt hair, acne and reeking of cigarette smoke goes, "do you need any help? I'm a CNA".

"Fuck. A Certified Nursing Assistant," I say to myself, "this isn't going to end well". But I figure, despite being a CNA, she may have some valuable information, so I lay out my symptoms in the most medically accurate way. I mean, I don't want to be talked down to twice in one day by wannabe medical professionals.

Well she starts out saying, "[i]n my expert opinion..."

"Expert opinion? I'm sorry, but unless CNA stands for something else, the only things you could have an expert opinion on is how to bathe an old guy with Alzheimer, or how to put a blood pressure cuff on someone. I'm cool if you want to tell me if any of these worked for you first-hand, but don't think you're an expert for a second. The only thing you are is a medical janitor."

So there's some hurumphing and she leaves in a huff, as if she held the cure to the Common Cold. Surely I overreacted, but I didn't feel like being lectured about classical immunology by someone who has a fucking certificate from some lame-ass community college, and someone who clearly smokes a dozen packs a day. Sorry if I don't value the medical opinion Jo-Anne Camel.

Sigh, and I'm the asshole?

Well I must have been, because when I get out to my car the front driver's side tire is as flat as Keira Knightly, or Kate Hudson, or Selma Blair. Whatever, you get the picture. Normal people would probably whine and call for help. Not this guy.

The trunk of my car is its own emergency response mobile command center/dead hooker transport carrier. I'm a man with the plan for all of life's foibles. My trunk is my Swiss Army knife.

So I just inflate my tire, pray to the Goodyear prayer to my personal Homeboy Jesus, and set sail for home.

That's right. Karma tried to get me, but I got Tiger Blood and I'm Winning, duh. There's no stopping this rock star from Mars...

Oh shit... I think the fevers back.

Me vs. Women and Dudes that Like Feminists

Being a sick male is very hard. Harder than being a sick female, it seems. You see when a man is sick he requires additional attention, and is too weak or sickly to do basic tasks. Tasks like changing the television channel, making hot soup, and bathing himself.

Women, on the other hand, seem to be afflicted with illnesses that sap their energy to a lesser extent. They are able to change the channel, make soup, and nag, just as they normally would do when healthy.

I'm not sure why cold, flu and allergy symptoms in men are worse than females, but I can only guess it's because we men do so much more than women. Simply our immune systems are so taxed that the illnesses we catch are much more severe than a woman's.

A man's day is spent doing manly things, like cutting logs, thinking about man things like sports and politics, and going to the moon on rocket ships. A woman's day is spent mostly bitching, eating chocolate, and watching reality television.

We men are always going to suffer more severe symptoms until women start pulling their weight (and losing some of that weight) and stop nagging and help men do their manly things. How can a woman help? It wouldn't hurt to have the pot roast ready by the time I get home from logging the moon.

It'll take a long time for women to step up to the plate and help their male counterparts. Women are a vindictive, vengeful beast, if fashion magazines have taught me anything about them. Indeed women will probably prove my point by writing vengeful things in the comment section, and sending me hateful e-mails.

But, by golly, I think this note is worth it if just one woman will get that remote that lies just inches away from my finger tips.

Finding E.T.

I'm tired of reading headlines like, "NASA Scientist Claims Evidence of Alien Life on Meteorite", especially when the alien life is just bacteria.

Listen, I understand finding living bacteria, or micro-fossils of bacteria on stuff in space is cool, and worthwhile to the scientific community. I get that. But they aren't aliens, at least not the colloquial definition of alien.

When I think about an alien I think skinny, clammy, gray things probing your bung-hole, mutilating cattle, and scorching corn fields. I think tentacled beasts in mile wide ships blowing up the White House, getting punched in the face by Will Smith.

I do not think of bacteria.

Until you guys find a planet (or asteroid) filled with a bunch of gerbil-sized or larger beings, don't bother me with these misleading headlines.

I'm an Old Ol' Fox

I recently turned 27 years old, and I think I can safely say I'm incredibly old. Now I know 27 isn't chronologically that old, but I'm basing me feelings of "oldness" on how I feel. And frankly I feel as old as fossilized prokaryote shit.

I've resigned myself to being old, and have taken up cross word puzzles, purchased a month's supply of V8 vegetable juice and started catching up on old episodes of Matlock. I've begun eating more sensibly, skipping a cornerstone food group from my more youthful days (cake). Why I even turned down eating lettuce, because it's too rough on my bowels, and tastes too damn sweet.

As many of you know I've always been a little cranky towards those younger than me, but now it seems those views have been ratcheted up ten-fold. This morning I told a 3 year old to "cut [his] damn hair" because I felt he looked like a girl. When I was told the 3 year old was a girl, I called his teenage mother a hussy. People who were too young to remember 9/11 shouldn't be having kids yet.

I was reading People, and caught myself wondering why there was no mention of Clark Gable and his affair with Loretta Young. For a moment I though Lady Gaga was the name of some bizarre moving sculpture. Justin Bieber made me feel uncomfortable.

My youth has left me. I'm no longer the exuberant, ironic t-shirt wearing unshaven delinquent I once was. I savor my malt-o-meal, look for toothpaste coupons, and I prefer a tall glass of cold tap water over beer. I'm starting to see the value in fat girls (I believe they're what keeps the earth from floating towards the sun) and I'm starting to get riled up when Denny's charges me too much for a damn omelet. If only they cut down the portions sizes, the omelets too big.

I guess I should embrace my quiet fade into the sunset. We elderly are a prickly bunch, a fraternity of gents who've seen better days, but can still take advantage of these waning hours of our twilight years. In fact I grabbed a girl's bottom, and pretended I was senile. Tee hee. She just gave me my vitamins, tousled my hair, and said "oh Mr. Samuelson, you old fox".

You old fox indeed.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


This is going to be about whores. So the group of man-bros I hang out with seldom have happenin' babes hang out with us. Sure, some of us do well with the ladies, and some of us lie about doing well with the ladies. But "the ladies" never really stick around with us casually. You know at places like bars, during band practice or our usual nights of pointless, drunken revelry.
That was until recently.
Now we have these three hangers on. All of them are whores, all are annoying, and all are not attractive... that is, they aren't skinny and their faces don't make up for that.
This one girl, henceforth known as Snooki, tries (and generally fails) to get dick in her vagina. One party she stayed up with us until 7 in the morning drinking, hoping one of us would throw her a pity fuck. I went home, then came back at 1 the next afternoon, and she was still there. I was like, "who bit the bullet, and fucked the troll". Apparently no one. She slung her vagina and there were no takers.
Then she banged one of our friends, and I figured, "awesome, now we'll be rid of her". Nope. Bitch is still around, trying to get dick from almost every guy.
There's also this THICK girl with a huge chin who is a down-right whore. She literally can't exist without some form of birth control. I think she's afraid she has so much sperm up in her tummy that if she skips taking her BC pills she'll suddenly become preggers.
The last girl is by far one of the more annoying. She has this high pitch scream she uses to get attention. Fucking high pitch. Anytime she sees me she tries to get me to fuck her. Which is downright annoying, especially considering I have rules against putting my dick in a girl whose gut outshines her titties.
I doubt she trims.
So here I am, with three annoying whores (2 out of 3 who went to Whitewater) and no way to get rid of them. They think that talking constantly about their vagina makes them independent women.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

The Smarties Diet

I've designed a new diet for you digital-age fat-asses. I call it The Smarties Diet. Essentially you just eat nothing but smarties. They're low cal. (25 calories a roll) and if you eat enough of them your teeth hurt, and you'll shun any food that requires even the most minimal of chewing.

I can feel the vibrations of most of you excitedly shifting in your seats, wondering if it works. I can assure you, my humble fat-asses, this diet indeed works. Why, I'm not only the innovator of The Smarties Diet, I'm also the chief guinea pig. I can tell you that I have lost 10 pounds already. Let's be clear though, I didn't need to lose 10 pounds, because I'm in a constant state of perfection. Whatever my physical state, that is the current definition of perfection, and never forget that.

There have been some side-effects, but I assure you the benefit out strips these side-effects. Here's a list of some of the little trifles that you may experience while losing all that weight, and looking amazing:

Extreme energy highs, and extreme energy lows


Extreme tooth sensitivity

Horrific constipation

Soul-sapping epiphanies

Christian Bale in The Machinist-like insomnia

Murderous rages

Absolute loss of sex drive

Multi-colored pee

Exercise may be hampered by need to lie down

Overwhelming stockpile of Smarties wrappers

Fame-hungry parents attempting to get you on that show Intervention

Nude sleep-walking

Gum bleeds

Muscle spasms

Hair loss

Thinking Dane Cook is funny

Drastic thoughts about which celebrity to kill to get Jodie Foster's attention

Phantom genitals

Friday, January 7, 2011

I got your back Mark

We can't go around censoring books. Part of the appeal of reading is acknowledging the cultural context of when that book was written. The contemporary vernacular, and opinions of the day. We can't hide from our past. We don't need to accept the negative things, but we should at the very least attempt to understand those things. I fear if we continue to avoid, or change the more challenging things from our past, we're doomed to be haunted by those very things in the future.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Keeping it going

So here I am pecking away at the Internet, trying to find the meaning of life and all that, when all of a sudden it hits me. I should be asleep, because I work early tomorrow. I guess I should, but fuck that shit. I'm going to live life on my terms, and by jove, I'm a night owl. I need to stay up late into the night leering at strippers, reading James Roday trivia, and eating all of my sister's gluten-free oatmeal cookies.

It's unfortunate that we night owls get no respect. We're always told that we have to be in bed by a certain time, and are looked at with scorn when we roll out of bed at 3 in the afternoon. We're yelled at when we play our drums at 1 in the morning. Hell, one time I was asked to leave a public park at 4 in the morning. I'm sorry, I didn't know my taxes only paid for the park between sunrise and sunset. I thought this was America, the home of the 7/11, 24/7.

When I was a kid I used to be bummed out, because I knew that at 9 o'clock I had to be in bed. I had so much more shit to do, I thought. Now, that I'm older, make my own decision, and can grow a beard I make the decisions, and wanna know what? I'm gonna stay up until I pass out. I'm going to live my life, and sleep when my body can't take it anymore!

I have to be up by 5 tomorrow, and as I write this it's a bit past midnight. It'll be later when I finish this rant, and it'll be much later when I finally decide to pull out my bed and get my z's on. I may only get 3 hours of sleep, but what of it? I'm having fun, and the day goes by much faster when you're working on only 3 hours of sleep. So long as you don't make it a habit.

The thing that I hate is when people make the choice to skip sleep, and then, the next morning, complain about being tired. I'm owning up to my poor decisions. It's my own damn fault I decided to stay up until 2:30 writing a fake diary.

That's right, I'm writing a fake diary. Basically I'm banking on archaeologists from the 23 century discovering this little diary and getting some seriously misguided notions on what life was like in the 21st century. 200 years from now they're going to think Ryan Reynolds was president, our currency was Mallomar bars, and Obama was something you yelled during sex.

Now, if you'll pardon me, I have to write discouraging things on people's walls, and down another aspirin before my heart explodes.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Middle-Aged People are Diluted Perverts

Middle aged people are diluted perverts. Who else would willingly canoodle a sweaty, obese, lump of hairy fat? Who is even aroused by the thought of that? Apparently our parents are and that's what makes them perverts. Sickos really.

Everything starts out normally. We're all after essentially the same thing when we're younger...but as we get older our standards lower and lower until we settle for the guy or gal we're gonna live with the rest of our lives. Some of us are tricked into it though. Like for guys she could be stunning but on your 5 year anniversary she's beginning to look like her mother momma hutt. and girls, I can't discriminate, after 5 years he starts to bald, gets fat and gains hair in rather inappropriate places. Your sex life is confined to an average of 5 minutes a month, including fore play and only if there's nothing on TV.

So for multiple reasons (I'll delve into those later) when we're older we're more apt to boning an ugo. And I don't mean 'paper bag special' or 'kinda cute' we're talking unholy of unholies. We're talking the complete opposite of anything remotely attractive, healthy or arousing. That cute 115 lb blonde you married is now a 245 pound lump of rolls lying on the bed struggling to breath. and that studly guy you married is now a balding, hairy butted, pot-bellied perv.

We must be gluttons for punishment as we get older. When you live with someone that long you probably hate the other person and you won't divorce because you hate change even more...and the monthly ritual is probably so grotesque you only can stomach it for maybe 15 seconds at a time. You blame work, you blame your blood pressure you even blame e.d. for your lack of effort and 'WOW' but in reality its just that you're both horror movie ugly.

Quit Breaking the Pee Rules

Ladies, what I am about to tell you will boggle your y chromosome. We men folk have certain unspeakable rules for bathrooms. I think one of the biggest rules involve the urinals...but let's back up and give the ladies some context.

First, using a public restroom (especially older ones) can be the most embarrassing thing next to getting a physical or prostate exam. Essentially you just pop your tackle out for all to see and then you pee.

There are even some restrooms where you gather round a semicircular trough and take a wizz whilst exposing your shame to every Harry, Dick and peeping Tom.

Whilst bleeding the fleshy lizard you know that there is a 1 in 3 chance that some asshole is checking out your goods. Its not a sexual thing, no, the little bastard is just curious. Its little bastards like that and mans natural shame that make these pee codes necessary.

Now, when a man walks into a bathroom and there are 3 urinals with two fellow men on opposing sides with the remaining urinal unoccupied you are, under no circumstances, to use that urinal. A related rule is the rule of every other. There must be a buffer zone of one urinal per side for every man flushing the gates. That is there must be a urinal space between each man, there is no buddy system, no holding hands. Do not squeeze yourself in. Now this rule can be bent if you use a piswa at one of the ends. That is you can occupy the first or last urinal or a urinal that is not buffered on both sides. So let's say that there are 6 urinals and urinal 1 and 3 and 5 are occupied, okay? You could occupy 6 if you faced slightly away from the occupant of urinal 5. Or let's say someone else broke the rules and you've gotta go big time and all the other methods are properly taxed (the stalls are occupied). So, same set up 6 urinals numbers 1, 4, 5 and 6 are occupied leaving 2 and 3 empty. Theoretically you could go to either stall. However, any deviation from the every other rule is frowned upon. It isn't forbidden but we don't encourage someone always breaking that rule.

Another rule is NO PEEKING. I hear some of you saying, "Hey, its not manly to be afraid of someone seeing your manly bits". But people that say that are just jack asses. I can't pee when you stare. Our essential purpose is to go into the bathroom flip out our tackle and piss. Not go in flip out our tackle and just hold it to show it we love it. Its not show and tell. You go in keep your eyes up because peripheral is a bitch.

Now, I hear some of you bitching that men take showers with each other all the time our nudity shouldn't bother us as much as I say it does. Well, most of the time you take showers with men is when they are your hombres on some team...and we don't peek.

There are two exceptions to the shower peeking rule. Normally if you do peak or accidentally catch a glimpse of major Johnson you're supposed to look straight up and think of Jessica Alba or talk sports. But there are two times you may not just ignore it and forget it. The first is when the naked person is a must stare and stare and stare until a hole is burned into her chest by your culminate looks. And the second reason is if theirs a dude naked with a boner in the dudes locker room and there's no chicks.

Now let's talk about number twos. Lets say you walk in to take a wicked yes and you all of a sudden see a dude struggling to lose his breakfast burrito. Try to get in and out before that dude has the shame of knowing the face of the guy that unexpectedly walked in on him giving birth to a massive turd...of doom.

Also, whilst pooping all bets are deal with that shit yourself man...just be sure to flush.

No one likes to walk into an act of hate.
If you shit on the floor clean it up.
Do not buy cologne or condoms in the bathroom.
Always wash your hands. We're at that age that I don't want to be shaking your hand and wiener at the same time.

Heroes of the Special Olympics

This article was written my Junior year of High School in 2002. Uh, you'll probably be offended

Heroes of the Special Olympics

An echoed hush. Li'l Timmy squabbles across the finish line. A humongous swell of cheers and associated grunts enchant the grounds. Seconds later the rest of these special athletes cross the finish line. After this, a long day, they're given li'l quarter size medallions with cookies and juice.

These, my friends, are the special athletes that make up the Special Olympics. Their true competitive nature is shown in this magical park. Their competitiveness is spoken by words of actions, actions of what seems to be competitive babbles and grunts. Even spoken by Harvey the Tard who finished 3rd in the race. "Aw, geez, you guys. I got jibbed. I should have gotten second place if it weren't for Joey. It's not fair! He has a motorized scooter!"

These li'l heroes train tirelessly for 5 seconds before each event. Training their li'l underdeveloped, atrophied limbs to perform simple tasks like running in lighting speed. Some even taunt others of their own special stature. "See my back? That's all you'll see!" or, "Suck ma balls motherfucker. You shit is going down, beeyotch. I own yo ass muthafucka!"

Although taunting is looked down upon in the Special Olympics it is still "Funny as fuck" as not-so-special Albert Venice, a middle aged divorcee, stated last Wednesday as he was being escorted out of the park.

"Boy, we just hope everyone here has just a good fun, happy-sunshine-face-time here today. And remember: try your best because you're all 'Speacial' here" stated event supervisor Henry Winklstein in a pre-ceremonies speech.

"I hear we get cookies and juice," exclaimed Johnny Frumple earlier that day before being disqualified for exposing himself in front of a flock of geese, "I just hope they got the juice I like."
God bless you special athletes!

Dan's Guide to Treating a Lady Right

Originally this Guide was written 8 years ago while I was still in High School. Try not to mind the grammatical errors.

Dan's Guide to Treating a Lady Right

Great. This is to all those guys who know absolutely nothing about interscholastic dating. This is also mean to be a refresher course for any guys who have already figured this compli-ma-cated stuff out.

Step One: Find a girl who you think is mildly attractive, but not oo attractive. You don't want to over step your bounds. Yeah, sure you may regret not asking out the really pretty girl but face facts, she would have just rejected your loser self anyways. It's best to steer clear of any possible bad memories.

Step Two: Befriend her friends first. Get the inside scoop on her personal life. It may seem kind of creepy but I'm telling you to do this for your own protection. You may find out you don't have a lot in common or more pointedly you may find out she's a murderer or maybe she's really a guy with a dainty bone structure and long hair. Also, strike up a personal conversation with her avoiding topics like your bathroom habits, your over eccentric love for Barbra Streisand or your hatred of The Man.

Step Three: When you find out all you want to know ask her out and if she says, "I'd love to," play dumb and say, "I'm sorry --it sounded like you said, 'I'd love to'." She will reply, "That's what I did say". Then play dumb again and say, "Sorry, it sounded like you just said...," etc. Keep this up for at least ten minutes.

Hooray Cap'n Jack! You just asked out a girl and she said 'yes'. Stop celebrating, its annoying me. So where do you take this special li'l lady? Should you take her out to eat at a really ritzy restaurant? Should you have dinner with her parents? Or should you take her to a movie? Well, let me answer those questions with a few suggestions: First of all a first date is an interview so go her somewhere quiet where you can talk to her. Second her parent hate you. And third you could take her to a ritzy restaurant but be serious women are like leaches constantly wanting more and more. So don't blow all your hard earned dinero on one night of awkward revelry, stretch it out.

If you want to go to a restaurant take her to one in your price range. You don't want her to remember your first date as an unpleasant dish washing experience. But don't sink so low as to taking her to McDonalds either, you fat loser. In fact have her decide where to go that will save you from going through a lot of nagging and her slapping you.

So let's pretend that you're both at the restaurant. You're looking at the menu and you're trying to decide what you can get that costs less than 36 bucks. Your date on the other hand is looking for the most expensive item on the menu. Just let her get the expensive food it's not worth fighting over. Besides you can service solely on the free biscuits and water.

After you have ordered commence small talk. Again avoid strange topics like how hot the waitress is or how mean and ugly he dad is. This also is not the best time to ask her what her name is. Keep small talk on light-hearted things like how her day went or how surprised you were that she even said 'yes'. to you. Women eat this stuff up but please give it to them in moderation. If your whole conversation revolves around you worshiping her she may start to suspect something.

While you and your special lady are eating maintain casual eating etiquette. Yes, maybe passing gas and belching is encouraged at your dinner table but, please, her customs may not be the same as yours. Don't embarrass yourself. Your habits may sicken/enrage/discourage your date from ever wanting to see you again. Oh, and keep the potty talk at home cap'n.

So it's the end of a long night, you're about $65 poorer than you started out with and you spent the evening talking solely about her. By this point you've come to the realization that dating isn't what its cracked up to be. You just want to go home and cry to mommy. Sorry bud, if you thought the awkwardness is over you are wrong. You still have to talk her home and make the final impression on her so that she'll want to go out with you again. Fear not big ol' Dan is here to walk you through this too.

Usually at the end of the first date people are undecided on whether or not to kiss. Let me just put it this way if you kiss her you can kiss your independence good bye. I guarantee te following school day she's going to move some of her stuff into your locker. Things you have never seen before, things no man should ever see in his locker. In short avoid kissing her a simple pat on the head and the word 'You're Cool" will suffice...until the day you must kiss her and by doing so kiss your freedom and independence as a functional male good bye.

There are many choices such as: walking her to the door, making small talk with the parents or hustling her out of the car and speeding off. All of these choices are acceptable if done with the proper tone.

For example if you walk her to the door do not attempt a last second smooch for two reasons. 1) I told you not to in the paragraph above and 2) just as you begin to get your greasy mitts on her her father will open the door and after several moments of awkwardness her father will chase you around the yard with a special bat he bought just for occasions such as this.

If it happens that you choose to walk her in the house and make small talk with the parents it is usually best i you refrain from the following jokes:

I got your daughter back with no dings and scratches.
She kisses like your wife.
She's too young to get pregnant, right?
$50 says I dump her in a week.
How could something so hot come from something like you?

Though these are meant merely as a joke her parents will not appreciate them nor your spastic efforts to win their favor.