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. http://hubpages.com/hub/five-most-alcoholic-drinks

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___________________