10 Years A Single

Ten years is a lot of time.  

Really…think about all of the AMAZING things that have happened to either you or your friends in the last Ten years.  Pretty crazy huh?  I mean a decade ago did you REALLY think you would be a married? A parent? Or an adult film star because you went to that movie audition that happened to be at 2 in the morning in an office behind the 7/11 that only had a desk, creepy old dude, and a black leather couch?  I THOUGHT NOT.  Obviously that didn’t happen to me because I’m not making a thousand to five thousand dollars a day. Not to mention that I don’t take direction well.  Probably for the best though.  

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As for me it’s not what did happen to me in the last 10 years…but what didn’t happen.  For the last decade I have been 100% (shamefully?) single.  I’m turning 30 this week and unless an amazing woman falls from the sky, Its pretty much going to be guaranteed that I will have been single throughout  my entire 20s.  Literally speaking, it would make total sense that the most perfect woman I’ve ever met falls from the sky right in front of me and splatters everywhere.  Just so the Single Gods can have one more laugh at my expense.  Man…that was kind of morbid.  Oh well!

Yes…I know.  I tend to write a lot about my failed mishaps and complete ineptness in the dating world.  But what can I say…I’ve got more experience in this field than most people.  I could probably write a blog a day for a year and I would still have enough cringe worthy dating stories or “almost got the girl” mishaps to fill it…even with a leap year.   The first time I ever actually tried to have a girlfriend I was in 5th grade.  I stayed up all night memorizing the lyrics to the master hit that was Hey Lover by LL Cool J and Boys 2 Men.   I had this vision of me rapping the lyrics to my crush (a cute 6th grader) and she would fall madly in love with me and have my 5th grade babies.  If you know anything about Kerrville…thats really not far from the truth. 

One of these moms ended up in porn...but all of them pretended to be in it.

It was the last day before Christmas break and I woke up that morning Jittery as fuck.  My lines were rehearsed, and it was time to lock this girl down for the rest of her life.  I took P.E at the end of the day which I shared with her and was the only time I actually got to see her.  P.E. basically consisted  everyday of running around the baseball backstop and then just doing whatever the fuck else you wanted to do on the playground.  As soon as it started, I sprinted my ass off and was the first one done.  But…I couldn’t find her.  “DAMNIT!”  My whole 5th grade life hinged on this moment.  I had to find her.  Turns out 6th graders got to do 6th grade stuff right before the semester ended where they didn’t have to hang out with us little kids.  Im determined though…I'm not letting this one get away.  As soon as the period ended I saw her walking with her 6th grade girl friends and I grabbed her arm and told her I had something to tell her.  Naturally, all of her friends stopped too,  just to hear what I had to say.  Oh well…fuck it…here it goes.

“It was Harlem at the Rukers, I saw you wit cha man,

Smilin Hm, a coach bag in your hand.

I was layin in the coop with my hat turned back,

We caught eyes for a moment but that was that”…

I finished the whole song.  I couldn’t understand it at the time, but her friends had their hands over their mouths completely wide eyed.  She was completely red.  I took that as the only sign I could…I KILLED IT!  I was about to have my first real girlfriend!  I waited for what seemed like forever in awkward silence while her friends snickered under their hands and kids walked past us in the breezeway.  Something great is supposed to happen now…right?  She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek but didn’t say a word.  She walked away and that was literally the last time I ever saw her.  I think she moved out of town or something but I heard her name every now and again from mutual friends, and each time I did I was still thinking…she’s waiting for me to sing her more LL songs.  Probably not though, cause the only person to get laid from an LL Cool J song who wasn't in the 80s was fucking LL Cool J.  Oh well. 

MAMMA SAID YOU GONNA DIE ALONE AND WRITE BLOGS ABOUT IT!

For me the turning point where I stopped caring about constantly trying to get a girlfriend happened on one glorious Thursday night almost 6 years ago.  District 9 was coming out and everything about this movie I was fascinated with.  From the first time I saw the trailer I had put it on my midnight showing list.  I love going to midnight showings of movies that I anticipate, and for the longest time I had a few partners in crime that would end up going to the movies with me.  But…all of my friends in Austin are older than me.  Not only are they older than me, but now they have children, families, and “adult” lives. 

 heh heh…NOOOO…Not like that!  Get your minds out of the gutter!

 I had no choice, and without a date If I wanted to see this movie I’m going to have to go alone.  I played out in my head a thousand different awkward scenarios that I just knew where going to happen to me.  But honestly, how bad could it really be?  It's time for me to venture out into the big world on my own.   So to hell with it!  I bought the tickets and then headed out to the showing.  If you’ve never been to a midnight showing, back in the day there was no assigned seating.  It was just show up as early as possible, and get the best seat you can.  Obviously the earlier you get there the better chance you have of getting a middle of the theatre seat.  So here I am in line, about 2 hrs early and nothing but awkward time to kill.  Holy shit, there are only couples here and guys with friends.  This does not bode well.

Pretty much felt like this for one glorious awkward evening. 

After about an hour and a half of awkwardly staring at my phone, they finally let us in. I cautiously find a primo middle seat and sit down.  I feel like everyone is staring at me.  If you want to go to a movie alone for the first time, its best not to go to the Alamo Drafthouse.  There you are GUARANTEED interaction with at least one person.  I was hoping that as a server there, he sees loner people at the movies enough in his work life that he wouldn’t question it.  But I was nervous anyway.  You know that feeling when you’ve just told someone that you liked them by rapping a cheesy LL Cool J song…and you are awaiting their response?  And even though it only takes a few seconds, it feels like an eternity of awkwardness?  As I saw my waiter slowly making his way down to me, thats the exact feeling I had.  But again…surely he could probably care less…right?  Annddd here he is.

“Welcome to Alamo Drafthouse!  Have you been here before?”

“Definitely!  I come here quite a bit!”

Please just ask me what I want…

Please just ask me what I want…

Please just ask me what I want…

“Are you expecting anyone else to join you?”

FUCK!  WWHHHYYYYY!!!!!????

Ok Tony…you’re a pretty quick fella.  Think of some quick lie about how you HAD a date, but then she got hit by a bus on the way over here.  And as she laid in a hospital bed she said “you go see that movie you handsome stud you.  I won’t let my injuries bring you down for the night of your life.  That would be selfish of me!”  So, you’re only here alone because you don’t want your date to be selfish.  

God…thats fucking horrible.  No wonder you’re here alone.  Well…just make up some dumb excuse anyway. 

“Nope!  Just me!  Just me all by myself!”

Well that went worse than expected.  Idiot.  

“Wow man…I’m not going to lie but that kind of sucks.”

Great.  Thanks hipster waiter at the Drafthouse.  I’ll be sure to rub my tip cash on my balls before I put it down tonight.  

I ordered a calzone and a beer in the hopes that alcohol will somehow help me feel not so alone, and just like it does every night…It totally worked.  

Still though, I’m looking around because I just know that every single person in the theatre is staring at this dateless nobody.  I can feel their eyes pried on the back of my head laughing at me.  At that moment I would have given anything to be anywhere else.  And then out of no where, a miracle and the kind of thing that only would happen to me occurred.

“FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT…I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!!”

Just like that, I snap out of my wallowing trance.  I look up and now all of the attention that I was surely not even getting, was pointed elsewhere.  Across the theatre from me was a youngish attractive female…beating the living shit out of her boyfriend with a Drafthouse menu.  

“I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU”

This was going on for at least 25 seconds.  IT WAS AMAZING!

She let out one last frustrated white girl scream and ran out of the theatre crying.  Her boyfriend slowly got up and surveyed the entire theatre.  He grabbed his hat, put it LOW on his face, and walked out the theatre as fast as he possibly could.   Across the Isle from them, a large gentlemen with a big bushy beard walked to where they were sitting, picked up the menu, held it up above his head and yelled

“BUT WHO WILL THINK OF THE MENUS!!!  WWWHHHOOOOOO!!!???”  

All while pretending to fake cry.  It was hilarious to me.  Mostly because he was a fat guy and everything fat people do that is funny turns out to be hilarious.  

Shortly after, the lights finally went out and the movie started.  And by God if it didn’t turn out to be one of my favorite movies of all time.  

After the movie on my drive home started thinking back on the night.  Sure I was alone…but fuck…I could have been the other guy.  I feel like that guy would have traded places with me in a heart beat.   All in all I felt pretty great.  It was like for the first time the Single Gods were laughing with me, and not at me.   I made it a mission to start trying to do things on my own and stop caring about those prying eyes judging me for not being in those socially acceptable relationships that everyone else was in.  And damn…it was freeing.  Sure it would be nice to do all of the fun stuff I do with someone else but honestly if it never happens, I think ill be just fine.

Because Fuck It...I've got beer!

There's no crying In Baseball

I'm a guy...I don't cry.

Not to say I HAVEN'T cried before, but just in general I don't cry.  I mean there are the occasional times of smoke in my eyes happening when a close family member dies, or when the Iron Giant says he is Superman just before he crashes into that a nuclear missile fired by that asshole Kent Mansley. 

Spoiler Alert - Tears incoming.

But that's neither here nor there.  Aside from those rare events of close family passing, or the every other Friday night at home when watching cartoon movies crying in my closet with dirty clothes piled on top of me...I NEVER CRY. 

"So...Is this blog going to be about how you're such a little bitch Tony?"

No reader...no its not.  

This blog is actually about every ones favorite and most awkward thing to talk about...SEX!

LOTS of brothers in my case...know what i'm sayin?  Eh..Eh...Ah whatever.

I've tried to abstain (heh...pun INTENDED) from talking about sex in my blogs for the most part.  Firstly it will probably get me in hot water with the ladies that I'm blogging about (If they ever read this),  and secondly it will probably lead to some REALLY uncomfortable Thanksgiving dinners where my grandmother will for sure light one of those Mexican candles with Jesus on it for me as she prays for my soul.

Or...Houston Jesus perhaps?

 BUT...oh well.  I realized that I have some super awkward and funny sex (and almost sex) stories that y'all would TOTALLY be missing out on.  So rather than just talk about the time I awkwardly lost my virginity, or the time I MIGHT have had relations with a woman twice my age...the theme I'm going to go with for this one is, you guessed it...

GIRLS CRYING BEFORE SEXY TIMES

Yes, This is a problem that I've actually faced.  Also, don't think because I'm writing about my sex life that I'm getting it on the regular either.  It just seems that the few times that I actually get a chance to bump uglies...weird and awkward shit just seems to happen to me.  Luckily I've seen it happen to a friend too before, so I know its not just me.  You REALLY don't know what Awkward is until you've seen a stripper cry and try to confide in you about her baby daddy getting arrested the night before while simultaneously getting fellatio from another woman naked in his car. THEN she suddenly gets the urge to bang, goes to a back room, and then takes it in the butt from one of your best friends.  But that's another story for another time I guess. 

On three separate occasions I've had this happen to me.  (none of them strippers...yet) One of the stories I probably wont get into detail about, because the gist of that story was a girl noticed I was good at reading people and she wanted me to read her.  I didn't want to at first,(because pointing out peoples attributes and sometimes flaws NEVER ends well) but she convinced me with the promise of sex.  Well reading her made her cry because she said she had never had someone be so honest, truthful, and correct about her.  She then tried to make good on her promise with sex, but I did not accept said promised cry sex.  Oh well...cant win em all. 

Now that leaves two other girls, and two pretty funny stories in my opinion.  

This one girl and I had probably an 8 year old back story that is just as awkward as the story I'm about to tell you. (She may or may not have professed her feelings for me before getting married...or maybe not...who knows. I do actually.)  For the sake of this blog, I won't go into ALL of the detail about that because it would TOTALLY give her away, and I just want to give only the story that pertains to the subject at hand.  This is the story of...

G-Dubz

A couple of years ago I got a friend request and a message on Facebook from you know who.  I figured its been 8 years so she probably forgot about all the weird shit that went down.  We are casual at first, and we just talk a bit, but nothing major.  I accidentally say that I'll be in her city in a few weeks, so because she hears that and she wants to hang out.  She is not married anymore...so whats the worst that could happen...right?

RRRIIIGGGHHHHTTT...

I agree, and when I finally make it down to her city...well...honestly I only called her because I ran into her friend at a bar.  She was going to tell her I was in town and I didn't want to seem like the asshole who didn't call her when I said I would.  I call...and literally FIVE MINUTES LATER she comes walking through the door.  Completely dressed to the T.  I'm already a bit drunk, and she is an attractive female...so why the hell not?   After a night of drinking its time to close out and go our separate ways.  But, alcohol and hormones mean that going our separate ways pretty much meant going our separate ways back to her place. (Awesome…I’m going to SEX!)  So there we are…sitting on her couch making out.  We start undressing and I take her to the bed.  I'm pretty much laying there in just my briefs and a MASSIVE hard on, while she is just over the briefs grinding me without a top on.  I look down at her panties and I notice something...unsettling.  She has A LOT of hair coming out the sides of her panties.  It looked as if she may have been giving birth to Buckwheat head first.  From that point on she earned the name George W. Bush…or just G-Dubz for short. 

OHHH TAY!

So lets be honest...a giant bush is FAR from a deal breaker.  ESPECIALLY for a drunk Tony. So fuck it…I proceed.  More making out and such pursues, and when I try to take off the bush riddled panties, she stops me.  

“Wha...Whats wrong? I thought you wanted this?"

“Well I DO want this…but I can’t have sex right now.  I'm on my period”

Still not totally a deal breaker, so drunk Tony is not completely dissuaded. 

“Look, I've had a relationship before.  I know how girls get on their periods, so if you want to I've got condoms and its not THAT big of a deal for me”

“No its not that…We can’t have sex because its in the Bible.  The bible says that you can’t have sex while you’re on your period”

“Really?  You’re going to tell me THAT as you’re grinding on top of my man hammer topless?”

“well we just can’t…its in the bible”

At this point I've completely lost any interest in sex.  Now I'm actually more interested in the BLARING hypocrisy that I'm witnessing first hand.  So time for Tonys skills of drunk observations to get to work.

“Wait a second…So on top of you making out and dry humping me topless…YOU ALSO HAVE A TATTOO!  The Bible also says that you’re not supposed to get tattoos!”

“Well I just felt that I needed to get it after my divorce”

(by this point she is starting to tear up crying while talking about her failed marriage…and then I made it EVEN WORSE.  Oh well...drunk Tony is in the ZONE)

“Oh yea…forgot to mention that the bible also says you’re not supposed to get divorced!”

And thats it…she’s bawling her ass off as she’s sitting on top of my erection topless. 

And then it happens.

She starts to heave because she is going to throw up.

That's right...she's bawling her ass off…as she’s sitting on top of my erection topless...and she's about to throw up. 

I jumped out of the bed and run her to the bathroom.

She starts throwing up in the toilet and I quietly lurk back to put on my clothes.  As I’m fully clothed she comes out and asks me to stay because things will be different.  I decline, because its just best that I leave.  Nothing sobers a man up and kills an erection quicker than an emotional wreck of a half naked woman.  I haven't seen or really heard from her since, but I guess that's probably a good thing.

Good ol' G-Dubz…I sure hope she has maybe trimmed that by now.  Probably not though...probably not. 

LA LLORONA 

Be forewarned...If you move next to my friends and you are a single, attractive, female, there is a pretty good chance that you and I will end up naked and sexing.  The last place they lived, their neighbor and I hooked up...and it turned out GREAT!  Not only did I have great sex, but I even made a pretty cool friend out of it.  So it all worked out.  HOW THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT IT WOULD'NT BE THE SAME AGAIN?
Fast forward about six years and maybe eight or so neighbors that are older couples and dudes...we have another winner.  New neighbors move in and I notice that one of them is actually pretty attractive. She's a single mother living with her roommate (cracks knuckles) I've got this.

Now my first interactions with her happen on the night of her neighbors birthday outing.  She came out and we all got to meet her...which was...interesting to say the least.  To be honest, there were red flags all around that chick.  But hey, who cares about red flags when there is the smell of sex in the air?
Men don't.
I distinctly remember looking at my friend straight in the eye and saying "Hey, Im gonna hit that".  But, sadly I did not "hit that" that evening.  Just worked my way up to messing around with her and not much more.  We exchange numbers and I don't really hear from her much after that.
Fast forward a few weeks.
I get out from a movie at around One in the morning.  She knows this because I went to the movie with her neighbors.  As soon as I get home I get a call from her that went something like "hey, I'm kind of lonely.  Want to come over and keep me company?"  That answer is "YES"...that answer will ALWAYS be yes.

I come over and expect to walk in the door and some sexy porno like scenario plays out where I show up to clean her pool, only to find out she has no pool, but she keeps me around because I'm Mexican, and I'm pretty handy with house work. (What? House work can be sexy too. Ok...fine, throw in sex somewhere in there too.)  But this is not some sexy porno like scenario...this is real life.  And in real life you find a grown woman sitting on a couch at one in the morning, watching netflix episodes of Army Wives, while drinking a Coors.  Eww.  There's already like two strikes against her in that last sentence alone...but for now...whatever.  Sex, amirite?  Also, have you ever seen Army Wives?  It's a HORRIBLE fucking show.  It basically takes all the best cliches of the army and puts them into an hour long soap opera with shitty actors. I'm watching this shitty show, making awkward conversation for about fifteen minutes, when all of a sudden the most stupid sub-plot on that show sets her off.  Apparently an army guy and his fiance are talking about adoption.  She wants a kid of her own and he wants to adopt.  Then he drops DA BOMB on that bitch.
"Honey...I never told you...but...I'M ADOPTED"

DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN!!!!

I smirk with laughter because of the horrible acting and shitty story line, but when I look to my right, La Llorona is choking up.  She puts her hand over her mouth and repeatedly screams "oh my God, OH MY GOD!"  And just like that she is in full blown cry mode.
I tried to console her...but HOLY SHIT did that backfire on me.
"Hey...It's alright.  It's just a TV show."
"FUCK YOU, ITS NOT JUST A TV SHOW!  I FUCKING LIVED THROUGH THIS SHIT. YOU HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE!"
"umm...ok. Look, maybe I should just get out of here."
"No! No, no, no...Im sorry.  Its just that my ex was in the military so I completely relate to this show.  Please...just sit back down with me."
Theres a lot going through my mind at this point.  But as I'm sure you can tell, I'm DEFINITELY not using my mind to think right now.  At least not the right one I should be listening to.  So I reluctantly stay put, because HOPEFULLY putting up with all of this crazy will pay off.
A few minutes later I get hit with the big question.
"So I want you to be honest with me, what do you want from this? Because I'm looking for a relationship."
I don't like to lie.  Not even to girls who are potentially only hook ups.  So I tell her the truth.
"I'm not really looking for that actually.  I'm just looking to have fun and see where it all goes.  If somehow it led to that, then cool...if not then at least it was fun."
You would have thought I told her I was adopted or something because she got set off AGAIN.
"YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK YOU!  All of you MEN are the EXACT fucking same.  You know what...YOU NEED TO LEAVE! You and I are on two COMPLETELY different planes of thought!  Just put your shoes on and get out!"
I'm sitting there dumbfounded.  I have ZERO clue as to what the hell is going on.  So I stand up, put on my shoes, and get ready to walk out of the door.
"WAIT!  What are you Doing?"
"Well, I'm leaving.  You just told me to leave!"
"WELL I DIDN'T THINK YOU WOULD ACTUALLY DO IT!  PLEASE don't go.  I'm sorry, I just want you to stay here."
Again, SO MUCH is going through my mind right now. But again still, I'm not thinking with my mind and my dick pretty much convinces me through irrefutable facts and logic.
"Hey buddy, I know what you're thinking...you should get out while you're still safe. BUT...hear me out.  Sex is TOTALLY better than not staying here to deal with a crazy and possibly Bi-Polar woman. You wont get sex if you leave here and go home to watch Iron Giant alone for the 500th time. Trust me man...I'm a doctor."
"You know what penis?  YOU'RE RIGHT!  I should listen to you more often because I know you would NEVER lead me astray!"

So I sit back down and she puts her hand on my thigh.  It seems like its some kind of apology petting...so I'm just gonna go ahead and go with it.  As she's working her way up she immediately tells me
"You know were not going to have sex, right?"
"Look, honestly if it doesn't happen then I'm alright with that."
At which point she immediately straddles me and takes off her top.  My head brain and dick brain are in OVERLOAD right now.
Head Brain - "HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING HERE? WHAT DO I DO? WHAT DO I DO?!!
Dick Brain - "WWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"
So yea...sex happens.  The expectations for the sex from a crazy, Bi Polar, and possibly unstable woman are almost too much.  In fact, they ARE too much.  The sex was...bad.  Boring, completely quiet, void of passion, and weird sex.  She would say things like
"You need to go real slow ok...NO!  POUND ME! POUND ME!"
I had no clue what the hell to do.  I was so confused.  So my dick and head brain started a back and forth again.
Dick Brain - "Hey man...look...this isn't really what I thought it was going to be like.  So...yea...I'm just gonna go ahead and take a time out from this.  I'll check you out later when you wake up in the morning."
Head Brain - "Hey no, no, no!  Where you going man!  I need you right now!"
Dick Brain - "Peace Out Homie!"
And just like that...he was gone.

I stopped because there wasn't much left that I could do.  Luckily she got off, so there were no real complaints.  Just...quiet awkwardness.  I get up, put my clothes on, and throw the condom in the flip top trash can.  I'm ready to go because my mind feels like its overcoming a hangover.  Then she's back at it again.
"Hey what did you do with the Condom?
"Ummm...I threw it away.  Why?"
"Did you wrap it up in an napkin?"
"No, why would I do that?"
"MY SON GOES DIGGING THROUGH MY TRASH!  OR MY ROOMMATE MIGHT EVEN FIND IT!  I DON'T WANT MY KID OR ROOMMATE TO KNOW WHAT I DO IN MY SPARE TIME!"
I had no clue that her kid or roommate liked to go digging through trash cans in their spare time.  But by this point I'm just accepting whatever is happening.

Hey Kid...go home.  Your mom is calling.

"Yea ok...let me go through the trash, find the condom, and wrap it up in a napkin."
I went ahead and did that and made my way for the door.  She opens the door for me and I look back up her stairs and I notice that every door to her roommates and kids rooms are open.  I guess she lives with deaf trash diggers...otherwise anyone who lived in that house knows EXACTLY what happened.  I'm sorry kid, but I hope that doesn't turn into some deep seeded childhood scar.
Whatever...I NEED to get out of here.
"alright...well...thanks?  So I'll give you a call tomorrow."
"No you won't.  You men are all the same."
"Wait what? Ok then...I'll text you?"
"No you won't, just leave."
"Alright fine then, I guess I wont. Look...thanks and all, but I should be going."
And just like that, that part of the night is over.  I walk back to my friends house in a complete daze.  Thinking they would be asleep, I decided to come in through the back door.  To my surprise...they were up...hanging pictures...at Three in the morning.  I don't know who the hell does that but thank God they were up because I for sure needed to decompress.  I spent the next hour recanting this very story to them with a surprising amount of regret.  She was right though...I didn't call or text her back. I got a text like a week later in the middle of the night saying something like "What did I do to deserve you not calling me back after I gave you my virginity?"
Yup folks...thats how this story ends.  I haven't heard from her since that last Gem of a text, but a part of me thinks that is for the best.  Actually...ALL OF ME thinks that it is for the best.  The wost of it all is that on top of the mediocre sex, I am now constantly terrified that crazy will seek me out.  Also, I have an EXTREMELY unsettling nervousness each time I go visit my friends.
I deserve it though...I deserve every bit of it.
Stupid Dick Brain.

NEVER AGAIN...maybe...probably...hopefully?

So the moral of the story children is this - If someone starts to cry on you before romantic relations...GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!  Seriously, no good can come of it.  Trust me...I've done all the research, and tested those waters out for you.  And yea, those waters are DEEP.  No matter how attractive she may be, sex with a crazy is 100% not worth it.  Ughhh...I cant believe I'm giving the advice to ask you to reconsider having sex with and attractive woman.  It almost makes me want to cry.

But I'm no gonna do it.

Cause I'm a Guy...

I don''t cry. 

The Beauty Of Pancakes

In 2005 I went to my first…and ONLY spring break.  A couple friends and I decided to pack up our bags and head on down to South Padre.  It was an incredibly awesome time, but mostly because i spent most of it involved in legitimate riots, throwing Grey Goose and Gatorade bottles full of sand at peoples faces.  Apparently riot police with tear gas showed up…but myself and my friend had been long gone after we had our fill of needless violence.  The entire time I was there I saw exactly ONE pair of boobs and a beach full drunk college white guys who decided the 50 degree, windy weather was no where near cold enough for them to not take their shirts off to impress the equally drunk white girls. But For me…Spring break was all about that amazing riot.  

Unknown to me there were two other people there who I had yet to meet, but whom met for the first time themselves.  A drunk Guy met a drunk girl whom he was attracted to and even went as far as to propose in the free pancake line later that evening.  Have you ever proposed in a free pancake line at 3 in the morning after glorious spring break night of drinking?  Well I know someone who has, and apparently…IT FUCKING WORKS! While I didn't meet this magical pancake couple at that point in time (even though we were in the same damn pancake line that night) a year later it would seem that our lives would still intertwine for many more nights of drunken breakfast meals and proposals. 

Fast forward a year later, I decided to make one of those life changing moments that everyone always talks about.  I decided to give up my dream of becoming  a Rodeo Clown Astronaut and relocate myself to Austin Texas.  

Sigh...what could have been...

After a month or so of adjusting to Austin life i decided it was time to make some new friends, so I joined a beer league, co-ed, flag football team.  BEST DECISION EVER!  Thats when I met that drunk pancake proposing couple (and plenty of other amazing friends) who have been a part of my life ever since. 

I didn’t know where to go with this blog, because its hard to cover an almost 9 year time period. But since those two amazing people just had a life changing moment of their own, I decided i would share with you (the reader) a couple of my favorite times with them.

JAMES

They say your first time is Special.  I was 23 when I finally decided I was ready.   Every person who asked me, I always told them that I wouldn’t do it unless I had soothing music, candles lit, and JUST the right girl.  One night after a quick happy hour, James had decided for himself that I was ready.   I disagreed at first…but he was driving, and we were already on our way.  I was nervous being my first time and all…but with some convincing that took place in the 15 min drive, and our glorious arrival, I finally realized It was time.   

The first few steps up to the door must have been what Neil Armstong felt when he was taking those final steps before his first step on the Moon.

There was a well dressed intimidating gentleman at the door who greeted us with an amazing smile.

“Welcome to Palazio Gentleman”

“Hello Mr Strip club man.  I’m new here.  Might there be ladies of the night awaiting?”  Yes Tony…yes there were. 

The first thing I found out about the strip club is something that I still love about them.  Its well known that there are gorgeous topless women around…but the very BEST part about a gentlemen’s establishment is the people watching.  You never know how NOT creepy you are until you surround yourself with hundreds of amazingly creepy creeps. We sat down at a table that was shared by a Twenty something, regular looking, frat guy.  For this story…um…I guess we can just call him Herman.  Yea, that kind of fits.   

“Hey man…do you mind if she sit here?”

With a stone cold, emotionless, gaze, Herman slowly looked up and eloquently told us…

“ya”

Then, just as slowly as he looked up, he focused right back on the strippers with out even a single smirk.

I on the other hand looked liked the same kid who got his Godzilla 2 video game on christmas.  My eyes were only matched in size by the smile that wrapped around the back of my head. 

Herman though…was a fucking pro.  I watched him raise his hand, move his fingers, and get one of the lowliest strippers in the establishment without moving a single facial muscle.

Now I described Herman as a frat guy, but really who the hell knows.  I only say that because he was wearing flip flops, khaki cargo shorts, and a pastel colored polo. You know…the classic frat guy uniform.

James and i just couldn’t keep our eyes off of him.  I’ve seen naked women before, but Hermans emotionless gaze reminded me of someone who was probably a serial killer in his spare time.  I mean seriously…who gets a woman grinding on them for a 3 minute Buck Cherry song without even the slightest hint of a smile?  Herman…thats who. 

Herman had to return some video tapes.

When the song was over one of the most hilarious things happened that will forever be burned into my memory.  The stripper gets off, turns around and puts her hand out for Herman to pay her.  When he stood up I realized that he must have picked up his cargo shorts from an Indian Graveyard because haunted Indian spirits had pitched a Tee Pee in those God awful Khaki atrocities. Amazingly though…it didn’t phase him one bit.  There Herman was, Standing with his crooked hard on less than 3ft away from James and I without a single fuck given.  

HeHeHe....

James and I looked at each other in complete and awkward disbelief as Herman counted out 20 one dollar bills in the middle of the strip club with a raging boner.  When he paid the stripper, he calmly sat down with his emotionless non moving face, and went about gazing through people souls.  (No doubt deciding which ones he would take back to Satan, his lord and master.)  Still not giving a fuck, he didn’t even think to tuck it back…just three guys on a friday night, hanging out at a strip club, and with one erection strong enough to knock over the beers on our table.  If you ask James and I to this day we wouldn’t be able to tell you a single thing about the strippers in the establishment that night, but we will be able to tell you in incredible detail about creeper ass Herman and his khaki shorts erections.  Strip clubs are FUN!

Lenessa

You always hear that a friend should be so good that they would give you the shirt off of their back.  If thats the case…Im an AMAZING fucking friend.  One night after watching Ice Cube wreck shit at SXSW we all decided to go out to 6th street for a little bit of fun.  By fun I mean drinking…cause drinking is fun.  

We parked a good mile away from 6th street so by the end of the night we were all pretty drunk walking back.  The weather was a little brisk for a March, but it was totally bearable and nothing to fret about for a normal person.  BUT…there are normal people…and then there is drunk Lenessa.  Its about 2:30 in the morning and the road is packed full of what is most likely intoxicated drivers.  Len is quiet on our walk, but nothing to be alarmed about.  We had a group of about 10 or more people with us walking across busy Congress, but we seem to have lost one.  James and I are on the tail end of the group when we look back and notice Len standing in the middle of the street on Congress with her arms folded and head down like an upset toddler. Like with your average drunk toddler we yell at them first.

“LEN!!!  LETS GO!!! YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET!”

No response…holy crap the light is yellow now.

James runs out there and throws her over her shoulder like a Volkswagen in a Strong Man Competition.  Lenessa was SO determined to look upset that she didn’t unfold her arms and pouty face as she was being tossed around on James shoulder.  When he put her down we asked her why she had stopped in the middle of the road.

“Its COLD…and I don’t want to move because when I move...its COLD.”

And she literally just stood there…on the sidewalk…not moving.  

100% accurate portrayal.

James was getting upset because NOTHING he could say or do would dissuade her.  He also wasn’t about to carry her on his shoulder for the remaining mile back to the car.  So In a moment of what can only be described as pure, mediocre, heroism, I pulled off my shirt, and stuffed it over Lenessa.  She paused with a bewildered look on her face as I stood in front of her sans shirt and she realized her defeat.  She was moving again.  Arms still crossed under the used T-shirt and head still down she slowly followed us back to the car.  Luckily in Austin most people don’t think twice about a shirtless Mexican galavanting about downtown, causing mischief like throwing giant bags of sand over the bridge to see how big of splash I could cause.  That kind of shit is just normal here.  The next morning I got a call of her laughing her ass off and thanking me for being the type of friend that Cliches are made of. 

 Another Sunday morning years later I talked to her after one of her company Christmas parties we were at, and she happened to be calling me from her closet, asking me how she ended up there with all of her clothes on, clutching her purse, and why James wouldn't talk to her.  I was in the middle of Sunday breakfast with my family laughing MY ass off because 1. Thats just an incredibly absurd situation, and 2. James was just messing with her since she randomly went to sleep in the there after looking for her PJs and never making it out.  I look forward to a Sunday morning call from Lenessa...because more than likely...its gonna be GOOD.

Lenessa is such an AMAZING person…but God Damn is she so funny when she is drunk.

James, Len, and Tony

So here we are…almost 9 years later and we are still the very best of friends.  I just had the pleasure to watch an Incredible woman with the most radiant smile I have ever seen, walk down the isle, and marry one of the best men that I've ever had the privilege of knowing. 

I don’t know what the future holds for us…but I know exactly what our pasts are made up of.  The two of y’all are responsible for some of the most amazing memories that I have ever experienced in my 29 years of life.  On top of that, knowing I’ve got y’all there to bail me out of jail when I need it is always an added perk.  Because Jail totally sucks.  

I can’t wait to be a part of your lives as a married Robles couple,  but I’m pretty sure I’ve always been a part of that life.  It’s more than likely I was there for the first drunken proposal, so I'm down to be there for whatever else y’all need me to be.  So for that, I will always be around...and I cant think of anything I would rather be doing.

And they lived happily ever after to eat pancakes in the wee hours of the morning...

Deliverance From Deliverance

Im almost 30 now…which means I’m at that age where it's a non stop wave of social peer pressure to settle down and have children.  I see a constant stream of my friends succumbing unto this, which sadly distances me further and further from them.  See in my opinion, I won’t hit the age where I feel the need to settle down and father some hellspawn for at least another 60 years.  By that time hopefully I'll be in my prime...because i'll be dead.  (Suck it Social Peer Pressure!)  It's a strange feeling at times to be the only solo act in a sea of friends who only talk about, and want to be around marriage and babies.  The further they fall into that abyss of courtship and parenthood…the less they start to have anything in common with me.  So my list of great friends seems to be getting thinner and thinner every year.  I still have a best friend who is always there when I need him though.  In fact…ever since I was a little hellspawn myself I’ve always had a best friend. 

Back when I was in kindergarten my family and I used to live in a trailer park just outside the city limits.  I have some incredible memories of that place, but thats probably because (like with most people) its right around the time my most vivid memories started.  Right across the street from me lived a little white kid named Gary.  He and I were inseparable, and at any moment you could find us playing in the dirt with his ghostbusters toys, or looking for dinosaurs in the woods behind our trailers. (we never found any…at least not yet)  By far the best thing that Gary and I would do was to constantly walk up and down the street drinking Sharps, given to us by his white trash mom.  Do you know what Sharps is? 

 Now put yourself in 1990 and you’re strolling through a trailer park around dusk.  Then you see two little 5 year olds roaming the streets drinking beers that you had no idea were non alcoholic.  I mean who in their right min…actually…now that I typed that out that doesn’t really seem like its out of the realm of possibility for a trailer park.  Hell, not even today.  Hmm. 

Gary was awesome, but sometime around the 2nd grade he moved on to Houston or something, and I moved on to even better friends.  Being only 5 I don’t remember the exact moment that Gary and I became friends, but I can tell you EXACTLY when I met my newest and bestest friend!

It happened JUST like this!  Well...not really...

I had been scouring the internet and any shelter in a hundred mile radius for over a month.  I had this vision in my head that I just couldn’t get out, myself and a chocolate lab sitting on a mountain looking at a sunset.  It was like someone did inception in my mind just to see me come as close as i'll probably ever become to being a dad.

YOU DID THIS!

  It just HAD to be a chocolate labrador and he HAD to be like me.  Some ugly little runt that nobody wanted…he was out there.  It seems I’ve always had an obsession with ugly and broken things for as long as I can remember.  Its probably because I see things like that as a reflection of myself or something, but either way those are the things that I relate to and cherish the most.

One friday night in early november I was on my phone looking through the internets, and thats when I found him.  Someone in San Antonio had a few chocolate labs that they were selling for the insane sum of fifty dollars a dog.  I got on my cellphone telephone and I called immediately…

“Hello, my name is Tony and I’m interested in buying one of your puppies.”

(And to my surprise…the most redneck voice ever replied back to me…)

“Yeas Iz be Ricky, and Iz got a few puupies fer sale.

Weze down here in Helotes Texas so if youz want to come on and get cha one. Its gonna cost you fifty dollars.”

“Hey man thats great!  I can definitely come by.  Are you available right now?  It will probably take me an hour, but I can be there pretty quick.”

“wells aktually Im drivin on ova to my nephews birthday party, so I’m prolly not gunna be able to be around to get the dags for you”

“oh…well…ok….umm when would be the best time for me to come see the dogs?”

“Wellz I guess if you can come on down tomorraw we can get em fer ya.”

“Awesome!  Ill be there first thing in the morning!”

“Wellz now if yur expectan me to hold this dag fer ya its gonna be an extra fitteen dollars”

“um…really?  I was ready to come get him today but you’re the one who told me to come tomorrow”

“Wellz its supply and demand so I gotta charge ya fitteen dollars more”

Propa Fucked

Rather than argue with Rickys superior knowledge of advanced economics, I figured that 65 dollars was not too bad of a deal.  So I agreed to it, and let ol Ricky be on his way to his nephews birthday party, whom I also assumed was probably his son. 

As for me…it was off to bed to dream about Chocolate Labs and New Best Friends.

The next morning I’m driving on down to San Antonio with a major friendship hard on to pick up my new puppy pal.  I call my new bud Ricky as soon as I get into the city limits to get directions to wherever someone like him lives.  

“Hey Ricky…its Tony.  Im in Helotes and I need to know where you would like me to pick up the dog.”

“Hey, wellz I had to drive on down to Boerne to pick up mah girlfriend from work at Dairy Queen, so I’m not gonna be around.  But ills make sure someone will be there.”

From there Ricky instructed me down a shady winding road that paralleled a small creek.  It was actually a nice drive, but all the beauty that is Helotes could not keep my mind off of what I knew I was waiting for me at my destination. 

“sooo…how far down this road do I need to go?”

“wellz you almost there.  You gonna keep drivin about a mile further until you see a really nice, big, house with a big truck and a BMW in front of it”

Holy shit…I’ve had Ricky all wrong this whole time!  He’s not just some retarded redneck…he’s a RICH RETARDED REDNECK!”

But…like everything else in my life, all that is the reality of the real world came crashing in…

“Wellz as soon as ya see that house, theres a dirt road with some old cars in a field.  THATS the road that leads on down to mah trailer”

Well Fuck.

I got off the phone turned down this old dirt road.  It was about 200 yards before a came upon an old dilapidated trailer hidden in the middle of the woods.  Im pretty sure this is where the inspiration for Texas Chainsaw Massacre was created.  In the middle of some old cedar trees there was a small play fort made out of old broken pallets.  Nailed on it was a wooden sign with the words “Rickys Hideout” spray painted in red. 

“FUCK THIS!  Im about to die because I don’t know how to squeal like a pig!”

I decided to turn around and get the hell out of there.  Sure I wanted a little puppy…but how am I supposed to enjoy one when some redneck cross dresser is wearing my face?

Yea...ummm...no.

Just as I was turning around a giant beast of a woman came from behind the ruins of the trailer/meth lab.  She was wearing a Tank Top that was at least 2 sizes too small for her, and her stomach stuck out like Kuato on Total Recall.

"Quuuaaaiiidddddd"

With a cigarette between two fingers on one hand, and a cordless house phone in the other, I could hear her talking to whom I assumed was Ricky. 

“Yeaz…I sees him.  WELLZ WHAT DO YA WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?  OK FINE!”

As she angrily hung up on Ricky, and I went ahead and reached for my knife.  Luckily as a Mexican I’ve always got one on me.  (Stereotypes are the best sometimes!)  I'm now ready to fight off hundreds of Rapey Meth Heads that are sure to be hiding in the woods.

She took one REALLY long hit from her Cigarette and stared me down.  

"This is it Tony…this is what watching all those fighting movies have prepared you for.  A fight to the death with inbred meth heads.  An honorable way to die."

“So iz guess youz here for tha Puupies?”

For a second I’m in disbelief.  There actually ARE puppies here!  Unless “Puppies” is some code word for Meth that is…

“ummm…yea.  Are they around?”

Without saying a word she waddled with her back to me,  and with her two cigarette occupied fingers gave me a motion that was signifying to follow her.  

I folded my knife, put it in my sleeve, and reluctantly followed her to the back of the trailer.  She didn’t say a word until we reached the back.  Then she yelled with all her redneck might!

“DIXIE!  DIXIE!  DIXIE WHERE THE HELL ARE YA?  GET YER OLD ASS OUT HERE!”

A little rumble from under the trailer and a beautiful adult chocolate lab emerged with two little ones in tow.  They weren’t more than 3 weeks old…but they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

They both immediately flopped towards me while their mother looked on.  And there he was…Seymour!  A dirty little runt that was covered in dirt and fleas.  He was everything I was as a child except without the Sharps and in cute dog form.  

I paid off that whale of a woman and got the hell out of there as fast as I could.  The only regret I have was that I didn’t have enough money to rescue Dixie and her other pup from that flea infested Shit Hole that was "Rickys Hideout". 

Fuck those people.

On the way home Seymour didn't move an inch.  I kept nudging him but he wouldn’t do anything. 

“Great…I’ve had a dog for a total of 20 min and he’s already dead.”

I got him home and immediately ran a sink bath for him.  He showed little signs of life, and It would be no time at all before I found out why.  He seemed to have a few fleas sucking what little life he did have right out of him.  I say a few…but thats only because I lost count after around a hundred.  (that number isn’t exaggerated in the slightest)

After he was rid of the hundreds of parasites he finally opened his eyes to me and started licking me.  This right here…This is that love thing. 

Seymour is almost 5 now,  and he is still by far one of the best decisions I've ever made.  In one randomly eventful day I gained a new best friend...and as cliche as it sounds in one randomly eventful day I probably changed my life forever.

Some people may tell you that great friends are hard to find.  From my experiences…they just didn’t look around in the right trailers. 

And they lived happily ever after to sit on mountains and stare at sunsets...

That One Single Thing…

Dating is...complicated for me.

I’ve been “on the market” for close to 10 years now and it has proven just as difficult for me to cold call a girl and make up conversation now, as it was back when I was in high school.  At least in high school I was a somewhat popular athletic guy, who had a decent amount of charisma.  But back then I didn’t have to worry about pursuing girls as much as sifting in between the ones I actually liked.  I still sucked at dating though.  You know that little boy you pass by at the mall, who has his face against the glass of Victorias Secret, and is about to learn what an erection is???  Yea…that was me, except the Victorias Secret is dating women, and my erection is…well…my erection. 

This kid knows whats up.

But aside from what my spontaneous erections may tell you about me, I do try to never make dating strictly about sex. At times though that probably does hurt me more than it helps me.  It seems I always tend to come up with the most ridiculous and unrealistic situations about why I should date a girl for everything else that she can provide me, aside from sex.  

For example: what if I’m trekking through the amazon, and while in waist high water, A candiru fish swims up my urethra and makes its home in my 21st digit.  And THEN the only way to remove it would be to remove Ol’ Tonys Baloney Pony.  WHAT THEN?

When your sister thinks its funny to take a picture of her embarrassed teenage brother with morning wood.  She was the worst person...ever.  It is funny though.

Example number two: what if my girlfriend comes home from her job at the particle accelerator that she was working on, and that day she decided to take a look inside to see what atoms traveling at light speed actually look like.  But then she finds out that atoms traveling at the speed of light actually look like HER ENTIRE FUCKING FACE BEING BLOWN OFF.  Will I still be able to date a woman I’m not sexually attracted to her anymore?  WHAT THEN?

This is Anatoli Petrovich Bugorski…he decided to look in a small particle accelerator.

I’m still undecided if by my trying not to sleep with every piece of vagina that is thrown at me is because I’m a good guy, or because I’m actually terrified of malevolent particle accelerators, and a spiny fish that lives in dicks.  Who knows.

This cute little thing IS MY WORST FUCKING NIGHTMARE!

If you’re any kind of a fan of psychology you would have already guessed that I have issues, and pretty much fuck things up with women before I’ve even had the chance to meet them.  I tend to be a super calculated person, and my overthinking of every probable outcome tends to get the better of me.  It probably costs me quite a few chances at that thing you normal people might call “Love”

BUT, thats not all I’ve got going against me.  Bad luck and horrible awkwardness seems to fuck me over just as much.  If I had to pinpoint an exact moment where it all went wrong, I guess it all began from my first real cold call dating experience. 

Back in high school I had the pleasure of dating an incredibly beautiful girl.  I was just coming off of what I still consider to be my first serious relationship, so this was actually the first time I had ever pursued a girl.  Up until that point every girl I was ever with had came after me, so this was all definitely new grounds for me.   Being the smooth individual that I am, I finally got the courage to get said beautiful girl to agree to a date with me…by convincing my good friend to talk me up and ask her out for me.  Like I said…SMOOTH.

I guess what neither of us really knew was that this was, for the both of us, our first real experience at the world of dating.  Apparently through some cosmic anomaly, she had never been asked out before, and I was her first real date.  (A fact that I found out about five years after high school actually) The date started off normal enough I suppose.  Her mom dropped her off at the incredibly mediocre Chinese restaurant we agreed on, which I guess for Kerrville it was considered to be top of the line since it wasn’t Chilis.  Upon first greeting her with an infamous Ass Out Side Hug, we were promptly seated in the half empty dining area next to a large bay window.  

It was time to begin with Operation Date Night.

“ok Tony…step one of “Operation Date Night” is underway.  Time to knock this date out of the park and you’ll have a new girlfriend by the time the fortune cookies come along.  Lets get the ball rolling with one of those funny jokes you tell around your friends”

“wait…what jokes?  I don’t know any jokes!”

“you mean to tell me you asked this beautiful girl out on a date and you didn’t work on any new material?”

“uhh…no I guess not”

“you realize were fucked…right?”

“(Sigh)…yea”

Operation date night suffered its first casualty.  But if I can just make up about 5 minutes of conversation, maybe I can talk REALLY slowly and make it last for 10 minutes.

Well in case you’re wondering “what exactly do two seniors in high school talk about when they know absolutely NOTHING about each other, and they are both awkward about being on their first real date?”

The Answer: Absolutely NOTHING.

She was a beautiful and an incredibly smart girl, and since you’re reading this I’m assuming you already  know that I’m pretty much a six year old trapped in the body of a mediocre looking older six year old.   Yea…not much going on here. 

Dinner was pretty much a short interview of some pre-rehearsed questions I just happened to remember, followed by the constant staring at sesame chicken, and my horrifying reflection in the window behind her. 

I had to think of some supplement to this date that would involve minimal talking, as to hide the fact that she was way out of my league and that I was nervous as fuck.  

“I KNOW!!!  WE CAN RENT A MOVIE AND WATCH IT AT MY HOUSE!!!  WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG??!!”

What indeed. 

So after a quick stop at Hastings for the movie of comedy gold that is Shallow Hal (insert sarcasm in the comedy gold part) we showed up at my house which was relatively quiet.  No one home to bother us so maybe…JUST maybe I’ll be able to turn this date around. 

Nope.

About Thirty minutes into us watching a moderately funny Jack Black movie while we are both fairly silent, making no eye contact, and awkwardly sitting straight up, I hear…THEM.

THEM was my family…my very drunk family just showing up in order to destroy what little chance I had at salvaging an already sinking ship.  I’m sweating…cringing about what I know is inevitably about to happen.  And then it happens.

About two minutes after they loudly showed up I hear one of my uncles yell “WHAT?  HES IN THERE ALONE?  WITH A GIRL?  I BETTER GO MAKE SURE HES NOT GONNA MAKE HIS GRANDMOTHER DISAPPOINTED!”

I look at my date, and she gives me looks of uncertainty mixed with what I'm assuming was pure terror.

As expected, my uncle BURSTS through my room door.  The smell of cock block and alcohol seeping through his pores is overwhelming.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY NEPHEW?  ARE YOU DEFLOWERING HIM?”

“I WONT LET YOU!!!”

Then he did it.  He straddled me on my futon bed like Rachael McAdams and Ryan Gosling on the cover of The Notebook.  

Definitely not this sexy though.

Awkwardness level has now reached maximum capacity.  The second and final casualty of Operation Date Night has occured. 

 I guess when he realized the amount of literal cock block that just occurred, he finally snapped to his senses, rose off of me,  gave us the Meet The Parents/DeNiro eye point, and was off on his drunken way. 

I Conceded. 

The date was now unsalvageable.  I waited until when my family would not be in line of sight of our walk out the door before I offered to drive her home.  I think we may have stopped at Sonic for a Limeade, but that part is pretty much all a blur for me.  Circumstance and my shy awkwardness ruined a perfectly good shot at a really great girl.  

Little did I know…that was my future.  

Fast Forward 10+ years and I’m still haunted by that first date.  

Sure I’ve had an amazing relationship, and a few great dates with awesome girls sprinkled in that time, but for the most part I would say 70% of the dates that I do go on do not fare much better than that wonderfully eventful night. 

BUT, in the last 10 plus years here are some things that I have learned about myself being in the dating game.

1. My friends, no matter how much they know me and every faucet of my personality, have absolutely NO CLUE as to what type of girls I’m in to.  

Friend - “Hey Tony! I’ve got a friend I want you to meet!  She’s twice your age and y’all have nothing in common…she’s perfect for you!”

Me -  “Uhhh…thanks but I’m not really interested”

Friend - “no wonder why you’re still single, you’re too picky.”

My friends probably hooked these two up as well...

2. If I actually do like a girl, I still talk to them as if I have a mouth full of peanut butter…even during the times when I don’t actually have peanut butter in my mouth. 

Girl - “HI!  How are you doing?”

Me - “Oh hello I’m doiwevoisgnegvaer erfacerrvxrutasvbr…ummm (cough) and you?”

Girl - “um…..”

The symbolism here seems about right...

3. ALWAYS LOCK YOUR DOOR AND DO NOT BRING A FIRST DATE AROUND MY FAMILY.  (actually this should be rule number One)  Not that it would probably make a difference though.

4. I’ve realized that I actually don’t care about dating anymore.  Sure its fun to be with a girl who makes me happy, but I finally realized how to be happy and date myself.  And you know what?  Dating myself is fucking awesome.  No questionable and endless debates about restaurant decisions.  I like all the movies I choose to go see.  I don't have to explain why Luke and Leia kissed even though they are brother and sister, to a girl who probably wasn't interested about Star Wars in the first place.  I come home at all hours of the night without repercussion. I can play video games or have movie marathons without constant judgement.  I can act stupid and I only ever have to worry about embarrassing myself, which I could pretty much care less.  And most of all…I’m almost always guaranteed to put out!

So theres that!