alexlikesyou

I’ve one rule I live by: never go on a date to a gun range. I don’t care how hot she is._[1]Run. Seriously. Below I’ve created a list of bad date ideas to help you weed out any potential hazards to your health or sanity.

• Any movie. One or both of us aren’t paying attention. No, I don’t want to explain the last 140 minutes of this 150 minute film.
• Church. Sorry Hey-zeus, I’ll come see you some other time. I’ll bring the wine next time. You’ve shit taste in reds.
• Dinner with her parents. Let’s face it, they already do or will hate me._[2]
• A Circus. Clowns. Fuck that shit, dude. Not worth it.
• Anywhere that you’ll likely find yourself staring at a table of chicks you previously may or may not have had alleged relations with in the past, present, or near future. Commence countdown until they all find out what they all have in common._[3]
• Hiking/Camping Her legs hurt. You’re 50 feet from the car.
• Anything involving kids. Yeah, they’re cute. Don’t get any ideas.
• Olive Garden. Shitty Italian food.
• Any sort of double date. The quirks of two people in a relationship are inversely tolerable as their individual, not so equal parts._[4]
• Weddings. Two reasons: (1) Man down. (2) Murphy’s Law states that it will not be an open bar as a direct result of her catching the bouquet. (3) Yikes.

It’s good to have standards. It’s even better to have near impossible standards. Keeps things fresh. Shoot for the stars!

Until next time— Cool runnings.

_{[1] Exception: Twins.
[2] Half truth: Your Mom thinks I’m charming.
[3] Always prepare an exit strategy.
[4] Exception: Twins, or you’re going to have a threesome after the other girls date leaves.}

Hey! What’s the story?_[1]Good talk. _[2] So, let me tell you about this work of fiction and clearly a nightmare I had last night. In said horror story, I had a heart felt narrative (My dreams are in the format of movies, usually.) following the story of an Exgirlfriend (a blonde, duh.) contracting cancer. Here’s the cliffnotes ‘cause it was a horrible story: Hot blonde gets cancer, she builds a boat, an anonymous black man gets shanked, she dies, and I was no where to be seen in this entire story.

Arguments are best won by factual information. Good looks and charm tend to help as well. Please view this short breakdown of factual information to prove this was a nightmare plot:

• Dreams about exgirlfriends. Horrible decision brain. Come on.
• Cancer sucks. Unless you’re talking about the astrology sign. In that case I say; Booyah to my fellow crabs. Side ways sixty-nine things rule.
• A random black man gets killed. Possibly racist.
• Dreams about exgirlfriends dying suck. Questionable. At least it wasn’t to something horrible -like being trampled by alcoholic elephants. They can be angry drunks you know. True story.
• Girls don’t build boats. Not any boat I’d want to be on anyway.
• Dreams about exgirlfriends. Once again, come on.
• Obviously this was a chick flick. Completely unmanly.
• It wasn’t narrated by Nathan Fillion. No further explanation required.
• Completely devoid of yours truly. Blasphemy.

One may be subject to a state of; what I like to call, “Post Unmanly Dream Disorder.” Which can be caused by being unwillingly immersed in a Lifetime Original movie for hours._[3] Your subconscious runs free to otherwise jar your sane mind._[4] I’ve prepared a short list of things you can do to help bring back that awesomeness:

• Bone ASAP. You may even have a willing party already next to you. Two reasons: (1) Endorphin’s. (2) Duh.
• Exercise. Two reasons: (1) Endorphin’s. (2) Helps in long term pursuit of above bullet.
• Bone again. Why not?
• High Five your awesome dog. Your dog is your all time (well as long as his life time) bro. A real man’s dog high fives not shakes.
• Send text message to ex telling her you wouldn’t ride on the boat she builds when she has cancer like you’re a some sort of crazy prophet. A response isn’t necessary._[5]
• Find nearest bottle of liquor._[6] Proceed to take shot.
• Chaunce. Duh.

Until the next episode.

_{[1]: It’s important to involve people with open ended obscure questions.
[2]: Pretend like you care. It’s polite, or something.
[3]: That’s just inhumane, dude.
[4]: Sanity is entirely relative. See U.S. Law.
[5]: It’s about self expression, and to remind chicks I don’t trust them or the things they build. Yes, I know you can build an IKEA desk. You’re cute. I love your hair like that bee tee dubyuh.
[6]: Always have whiskey available for emergencies}