For one, my place is cleaner than it has been for a couple months. Not that it was that bad before, but nowadays I can look at my apartment and not see my clothes and my school papers scattered around or all my dishes sitting in the sink. And though I'm no expert on the human female, I suspect that playing a rousing game of "Guess That Smell" with the mold-covered pile of dishes is not their thing (you women are so damn hard to impress....).

Second, I now have some free time for other things. For example, I've been hearing good things about this thing that people call "sleep"; I can't wait to try that out. Maybe if I have time left over from this "sleep", I can finish one of the dozens of video games laying around (or god forbid work on the website).

And third, I have nothing keeping me from looking the next time a really hot woman walks by. Some guys will try sneak a look when they think their date isn't looking, but not me. I'd like to say it's done out of the desire to be considerate, but I suspect the desire to not be whacked upside the head somehow factors into it as well. I also have doubts about my ability to look and not get caught (or to come up with a convincing lie when caught). So then I guess it doesn't matter whether I'm a nice guy or simply chicken, because it all boils down to the same thing..... survival. But that's all behind me now, and I can look all I want. At least until the point where I lose my marbles and start to date again. I'm a glutton for punishment, I tell ya.

On a completely different note, by tomorrow morning I'll be off on yet another road trip; gonna visit the folks and some friends in Washington and California, and generally just tool around the country for a few weeks. While having company would've been nice in a lot of ways, at least by travelling alone I get to go where I want and do all the things I want to do. And getting to pick all the music is not a bad deal either...

So have a good holiday season folks, and don't let that Santa punk deprive you of the good loot this year...

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

So on that note, I'm not going say nasty things about my now ex-girlfriend. For one, I'm not really angry with her. And second, she's a decent person and doesn't really deserve anything like that. I guess the only thing that I'm upset about is that this unpleasantness had to happen in the first place. I suppose I also wish this could have happened at a better time. I've got my semester finals coming up, and I'm kind of in a crappy frame of mind for studying (I could have done a lot better on the physics test I had today, but at least I know I've got a passing grade). And I suppose when I have time I'll need to rethink my Christmas break travel plans too. She may not be going along anymore, but I'm certainly not staying in Tucson, and so I'm still going to drive around the country and have some fun.

Well, there is a positive side to this.... I'm now free again to go out with all the other women that I want. Maybe now is my chance to get together in a hot tub with three beautiful, naked women (Ok, it's not very likely, but at least I no longer have anything to keep me from jumping right in...) Ok, well it was a nice thought, but back to planet Earth. It will be hard enough to find women who won't avoid me because I'm a student without much money, or because my car looks like it was attacked by a 500lb drug-crazed gorilla with a sledgehammer. Yeah, I know a lot of women don't really care about those things, but it's still frustrating how many do. (Ok, to be honest I'm probably making it out to be worse than it is; there's still women out there who can see that I'm a pretty good catch, even if I don't own a Lexus)

Well it doesn't matter anyway, because I'm going to stay away from any serious relationships for awhile... no commitments or anything like that. If I've learned anything, it's that I don't have a lot of time to spare for a relationship. Besides, this'll give me a chance to see my friends a little more often, and maybe play some of my video games that have been gathering dust for the past several months. And one can always count on the therapeutic value of playing Grand Theft Auto III.....

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Anyway, Thanksgiving is approaching fast, much like an oversized hormone and steroid injected turkey hurled from a large, high speed catapult. To be honest, I never really cared much about Thanksgiving; the whole feast thing is kinda nice, but to me it's pretty much just a day or two off work and/or school for me. Now if the holiday actually involved flinging poultry from a catapult, I might get more into it. Maybe it's due time for a "Win a Turkey" contest where the contestants wear a catcher's vest and helmet and have to catch the turkey as it is hurled in their direction from a high speed slingshot or catapult. Of course the turkey will have to be on fire as it leaves the catapult. After all, only some kind of sick bastard would leave it still frozen.....

Now as for the topic of the dinner itself, I've been fortunate in that my family's Thanksgiving dinners have always been pretty good. In fact I never realized how good I had it until several years ago when I had Thanksgiving dinner at someone else's place (at a girlfriend's grandparent's place, to be precise). Not that all of it was bad, but I don't know if I could call a lot of it good either. I tried to stick mostly with the turkey and mashed potatoes, but her grandmother gave me a look that said "And why aren't you having any of the <<insert mystery food here>>?". Some of the stuff I recognized and just knew I wouldn't like it, but I remember there was one dish in particular that looked vaguely like something you might use to patch holes in walls. It looked to me that she might say something soon (I was already warned that she was big into giving guilt trips), and I knew I wouldn't be able to think up a good excuse (it's at times like those where I wish I was more skilled at lying and deception). So I glopped some of the other foods, including the unpleasant mystery dish, onto my plate in an attempt to avoid unnecessary attention and doing something to embarrass my girlfriend (I was being a wuss, but I suppose at least I was being a considerate wuss). The whole concept of eating foods you don't like on Thanksgiving just seems so fundamentally wrong, like tossing soiled diapers off the edge of a tall building.

So unfortunately not all Thanksgiving dinners are created equal. For those who have crappy Thanksgiving dinners to look forward to, I share your pain.

Just don't expect me to share my dinner.

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Anyway, so now I sit back at home, finally adding to my long neglected website and pondering what to do next. And as far as venting methods go, I guess heavy drinking seems to be the best option... it's at least better than taking my feelings out on others. Though starting a fight with a total stranger sounds like fun... but I guess all the years of self-control and maturity aren't tossed aside that easily. Man, am I a freak; even in a time like this I'm behaving more or less rationally. I'm even drinking responsibly... in my own home where I won't be a nuisance to anyone. Well, I guess hitting the booze will be my only offering to the gods of irrational behavior and stupidity. Who knows, I might actually manage to consume enough alcohol to get drunk for once. I'll definitely need more than I have though; maybe my friends have more.... I think the liquor stores have already closed unfortunately.

Well I'm going to stop trying to think about what happened and what tomorrow will bring and just concentrate on trying to drink myself into something resembling a coma. I'll try to write something more pleasant, or at least more entertaining, next time....

(Update: I've decided from now on that I'm going to try to not write about this kind of stuff, or at least not while I'm upset. My original intent for this site was to have fun with it, not to be a place for me to bitch about girlfriend problems. And besides, I don't believe it was her intention to be mean, even if the words were kinda harsh. I'll just make a mental note to develop a thicker skin...)

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

So I'm going to spend some more time getting in touch with my slacker nature... I've been engaging in too many productive and "quality time" activities these past several weeks. I need to do more things like watching TV, sleeping until two in the afternoon, eating junk food, and playing video games; these are the the activities that make for an enjoyable weekend. Why, it's been ages since I've played Warcraft III, or any video game for that matter. When was the last time I've played Grand Theft Auto III and gone on a rampage doing drive-bys, running over pedestrians, or setting people on fire with the flamethrower or Molotov cocktails? There's nothing quite as fun for me as starting out that game by getting in drug-frenzy and starting fist-fights with strangers, then letting loose with flamethrowers and assault weapons when the cops arrive, and finally stealing a police or Fed car and ripping through the streets on a high-speed chase to see how long it takes for me to die in a flaming wreck or a hail of gunfire.

It's nice to throw aside all ethical and moral values for a while and let those inner demons out to play for a bit. Because let's face it; if you want your inner demons to be happy, using your jerk roommate's toothbrush to scrub the dog's ass just isn't evil enough...

So let the slacking begin. Video game thumbs at the ready. Copy of Evil Dead 2 warming up in the VCR. Comfy chair in position. Box of Oreos and Pepsi on standby.

And the best part of all... no pants required!!!

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Wow, has it really been three whole weeks since I last updated this thing? I've been slacking on this site big time. I could try to blame it all on school, but that wouldn't be entirely true. The truth is that I've been ensnared by the feminine wiles of a certain girl. So ensnared, in fact, that we've gone beyond "just dating", and I have now entered the "boyfriend zone"...

Now one might ask how I could let this happen and let myself go into this exclusive sort of thing when I'm already surrounded by such an abundance of hot and sexy women, and with an occasional few that seem to find me attractive too (Is weirdness now considered sexy?). Well, as attractive as these girls are, unfortunately the majority tend to be around 18-21 years old.

Okay, I just realized how stupid that sounds ("Beautiful 19-year-old women? Count me out!"). Well, to further elaborate, what turns me off is that most of these girls tend to be too immature.

Okay... again I realize how stupid that sounds, at least coming from me... the same guy who used to wear a kitchen bowl on his head and declare himself the King of the Dish People. But when it comes down to being more than friends, I prefer women who don't fit the spoiled princess profile, and those that have some sense of responsibility and aren't all wrapped up in what other people think. Besides, I don't think of myself as completely immature.... I try to strive towards that perfect balance of mature wisdom and immature humor (though I usually end up closer to the latter). So to summarize that point, I guess I care more about the kind of person I'm with more than I care about fooling around with a lot of 18, 19, and 20 year old girls.

Wow... I actually BELIEVE what I just said. I either need my head examined or need to spend a few hours in strip clubs to get back to a proper male perspective. How am I ever going to live out that fantasy of being in a hot tub with three naked and gorgeous women if I keep up this kind of attitude?

Well despite that hot tub fantasy, I'm still happy to be with this girl. She's smart, cute, kind of weird, and most important of all is not a psycho who keeps the heads of her ex-boyfriends in the freezer.

Though I have yet to look behind those frozen peas.....

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

My current car is a perfect example of this. I bought it brand spanking new four years ago, a silver '98 Hyundai Accent (okay it's hardly a Lexus, but I'm a working class schmuck). It was the first time I'd owned a car that wasn't old or a junker or both. Well, the universe has decided to give my car a little "character" over the years. These little "character building" experiences for my car have taken the forms of collisions with very large, stupid mammals. No, not middle-aged tourists..... I'm talking about the four-legged fur-bearing variety. Here's my car's casualty scorecard:

1 large Canadian deer; 1 medium-sized Alaskan moose (unconfirmed kill; it stumbled off into the woods afterwards); 2 unidentified small birds; 784,211 assorted insects; 0 extremely rude, annoying, and stupid customers (not for lack of trying...).

Photos of Bambi-Slayer:

From my unfortunate wildlife experiences, my scientific opinion is it is not the teeth or claws that are the most dangerous parts of the animal.... it is the ASS. The worst damage to my car was the damage created by deer and moose ass; not only did they create the biggest dents, they created the biggest mess. That's right, in addition to having managed to hit two large animals with the same car, I also happened to hit them just after they consumed their equivalent of a Thanksgiving feast (do you know how many car washes there are in the Canadian wilderness? NONE!!! NOT A SINGLE STINKING ONE!!!). Anyway, moving hastily along....

Probably the most irritating thing about the car is the pointing and stares I get from the other drivers and various people seeing my car for the first time. It's kind of funny in a sad sort of way, especially when women first see my car. Most of the time they get this interesting sort of look when they first see it. It's that special kind of look; a look that reminds me of the scene from the first Star Wars movie when Princess Leia sees the Millenium Falcon for the first time, turns to Han Solo and says, "You came in that? You're braver than I thought!"

So needless to say it's very effective in filtering out the ladies who are a little on the "money oriented" side (perhaps a little TOO effective). I can still laugh at the situation, though. Maybe in small part because there's this nice girl who actually seems to find some humor in my car situation, instead of giving "the look" (definitely a point in her favor, and the fact that she's cute certainly doesn't hurt either...).

So if there are any rich guys out there who want to avoid gold diggers (or rich girls avoiding the same), I just might find it in my heart to trade my car for yours. Any takers? Please? Pretty please? Anyone?

Dang it.

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Ahem... well anyway, that's what I'm going to be doing for the next week. So tune back in next week, where in my next wonderful entry I'll be talking about my car. Or, more likely, bitching about it.

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Level 1: It's 11pm on a weeknight and you've had a few beers. You get up to leave because you have to work the next day, but one of your friends buys you another round. One of your unemployed friends. You think to yourself, Oh come on, this is silly, as long as I get seven hours of sleep, I'm cool.

Level 2: It's midnight. You've had a few more beers. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing against artificial turf. You get up to leave again, but at level two, a little devil appears on your shoulder. And now you're thinking, Hey! I'm out with my friends! What am I working for anyway? These are the good times! Besides, as long as I get five hours of sleep, I'm cool.

Level 3: One in the morning. You've abandoned beer for whiskey. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing for artificial turf. And now you're thinking, Our waitress is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen! At level three, you love the world. On the way to the bathroom you buy a drink for the stranger at the end of the bar just because you like his face. You start developing drinking fantasies (like, "Hey fellas, if we bought our own bar, we could live together forever. We could do it. Tommy, you could cook.") But at level three, that devil is a little bit bigger... and he's buying. And you're thinking, Oh, come on, come on now. As long as I get three hours of sleep... and a complete change of blood, I'm cool.

Level 4: Two in the morning. And the devil is bartending. For last call, you ordered a bottle of Jack and Coke. You are artificial turf! This time on your way to the bathroom, you punch the stranger at the end of the bar just because you don't like his face. And now you're thinking, Our busboy is the best-looking man I've ever seen. You and your friends decide to leave, right after you get thrown out, and one of you knows an afterhours bar. And here, at level four, you actually think to yourself, Well... as long as I'm only going to get a few hours of sleep anyway, I might as well STAY UP ALL NIGHT! Yeah! That'd be good for me. I don't mind going to that board meeting looking like Keith Richards. Yeah, I'll turn that around, make it work for me. And besides, as long as I get 31 hours of sleep tomorrow, I'm cool.

Level 5: Five in the morning. After unsuccessfully trying to get your money back at the tattoo parlor ("But I don't even know anybody named Ruby!"), you and your friends wind up across the state line in a bar with guys who have been in prison as recently as that morning. It's the kind of place where even the devil would say, "Uh, I gotta turn in. I gotta be in Hell at nine. I've got that brunch with Hitler, I can't miss that." At this point, you're all drinking some kind of blue liquor, like something from a Klingon wedding. A waitress with fresh stitches comes over, and you think to yourself, "Someday I'm gonna marry that girl!!" One of your friends stands up and screams, "We're driving to Vegas!" -- and passes out. You crawl outside for air and then you hit the worst part of level five, the sun. You weren't expecting that, were you? You never do. You walk out of a bar in daylight, and you see people on their way to work or jogging. And they look at you and they know. And they say, "Who's Ruby?" Let's be honest, if you're 19 and you stay up all night, it's like a victory -- like you've beat the night. But if you're over 30, then that sun is like God's flashlight. We all say the same prayer then, "I swear, I will never do this again as long as I live!" And some of us have that little addition... "and this time, I mean it!"

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...

Women; to quote Homer Simpson, "... a woman is more like a beer... they smell good, they look good, and you'd step over your own mother just to get one!". Basically, they're wonderful to be with (well, most of them), but dating one is like fishing with explosives; it's exciting and fun, yet if you're not REALLY careful you just might find yourself missing a bodily appendage. And then sometimes the woman in question has a real short fuse, and just as with an explosive with similar properties, it's always good to have something to hide behind. So how does one survive this treacherous, exploding sea of dating? Well, here are the five things to remember:

1) Women hate it when guys open doors, pull out chairs for them, pay for dinner, etc.; it insults their spirit of independence and self-reliance. So make them open their own doors and get their own coats. They might look at you as if expecting you to pick up the check or open the door, but don't be fooled; they're very clever creatures, and are merely testing you to see if you slip up. So be strong and don't let them trick you. (And if it all possible, make them pay for the gas, too...)

2) Mention past girlfriends and lovers as often as possible. Women love to hear all about that sort of thing, and the more intimate the details the better. Remember, they want to know everything about you. And by all means, make as many comparisons between your past girlfriends and the woman you're dating...

3) Mention sex as much as possible, and get some porno movies and magazines and leave them in places around your apartment and car where your date will spot them. This will turn them on in short order, and they'll be all over you in no time, guaranteed.

4) Do all the talking. Don't be afraid to interrupt them if they try to talk... they won't mind a bit. They're simply waiting for you to tell them how interesting you are. And stick to topics like how expensive and great your car is, how much bass your stereo can put out, etc. That sort of thing impresses ALL women.

5) And finally, don't forget to oggle and flirt with other women while on your date. This creates a healthy atmosphere of competition between your date and other women, which only goes to increasing your appeal. This is a good time to go back to the aforementioned rule #3, and suggest the possibility of a menage-a-trois... (for the layperson, that's French for "freaky mega-kinky three-way circus sex")

Now if you follow these five guidelines, I guarantee big results. I don't know exactly what results those would be, but I suspect it will involve a resurgence in involuntary castrations, public stonings, and salad fork stab wounds.

To be honest, I can't really think of many suggestions for dating, though first off I would suggest avoiding all the above five things (you'd think that would be obvious, but some of us are really dense). Second, if you still live with your parents, by all means don't admit it (again, you'd think that would be obvious). And third... while being a nice guy is good in a karmic sort of way, it too often seems to reduce one's dateability in the eyes of women. And for us unfortunates who also possess something resembling standards when it comes to dating, the quality dating opportunities become about as rare as the chances of finding a half-naked nun doing body shots at a frat party (if anyone happens to have a picture of that, send it to me and I'll post it up here in it's own special place of honor). Face it; if you, like me, have these damnable qualities such as principles or a sense of fair play, you're at a disadvantage against the guys who learned early on to lie, manipulate, and play dirty. But it's not all bad; one upside to it is that it acts as a filter of sorts, keeping many of the psychotic and/or generally unpleasant women from being interested in you in the first place. Really unpleasant and disturbed people possess that special gift for finding each other, and often prefer their own ilk over decent people (of course, there's always those unfortunate exceptions). Remember that sometimes quality is better than quantity. Especially when quantity has a tendency to set fire to your couch when she's upset.....

Got Something to Say? Well Then Let Me Have It...