Slow Dancin' With Shmitten Kitten: "Angel" By Aerosmith

Dim the lights. Crank up the fog machine. Let the disco ball spin. Did you do something new with your hair? 'Cause it looks great! This is a new feature where we will be posting our favorite power ballad of the week. To kick it off, we have "Angel" by Aerosmith. FYI you guys, this is pretty much the only song I'd couples skate to.




What's your favorite song to slow dance to? Email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com and let us know what blows your hair back.

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SHMITTEN KITTEN EXCLUSIVE: We Chat With The Maven Behind I Bang The Worst Dudes (Sorry, Mom)

In what can only be defined as a straight-up phenomenon, the site I Bang the Worst Dudes (Sorry, Mom) has been on the tips of tongues and tweets everywhere. Part locker room talk and part slumber party confessional, the site calls out dudes through reader submitted stories and photos, obscuring their identities with a strategically placed black bar. It's already been namechecked on Jezebel and it's been burning up messageboards and inboxes up and down the East Coast Corridor. All this and it only launched last week! For all of you worker drones, the site is slightly NSFW. After a scuff up with Tumblr, they are now settling into their new domain digs at <sorry-mom.com>. We emailed the mastermind, "Mom," to see whats its like to be the Queen Bee of high-tech gossip.

SK: When did you start the site? Why?
Mom: I started the site last Thursday afternoon as a joke with a male coworker, trying to illustrate to him that not only had I banged the worst dudes last summer – in retrospect, I’ve mostly slept with some of the worst dudes I’ve ever met. So the site started as a hilarious visual history of the terrible things I’ve subjected my vagina to throughout the years. That poor, poor vagina.

SK: What has the reaction been so far? How have the guys who have been featured reacted?
Mom: Well, to tell you the truth, this wasn’t exactly supposed to get out there. I had to scramble and remove ex-boyfriends and guys I’m still friends with to avoid people getting really pissed off. But my girlfriends all thought it was hilarious and were the ones to offer to submit their own stories. It took off from there insanely quickly. There has really only been one dude who got mad: I got a c-word filled text on Saturday morning. But, the rest have been pretty chill about it, asking me to have them taken down. Most people seem to really embrace the site, and a few have emailed me to remove their friends’ entries for fear that they would be really upset about them. I witnessed one guy I featured and later deleted showing off his entry proudly on his phone – hilarious!

SK: What has surprised you the most about the reactions to the site? Are you surprised at how fast it has taken off?
Mom: Well, like I said I really didn’t think many people would see it. I’m kind of bummed about tumblr pulling it down, which I’m really not surprised about it, because I was getting 40 – 50,000 unique views per day this weekend and that is NUTS. I got a buttload of really funny submissions, too, which is great. It’s good to know I’m not the only one who makes terrible decisions at times.

SK: Are there any stories that you haven't published? Why?
Mom: I think most of my stories were pretty identifiable within the site because they were very self-deprecating, they definitely made me look bad, not the guy in question (aside from the occasional farter or tactless jerk.) A lot of the stories sent in are outright mean, and kind of boring. There are only so many times you can read about a dude having a 2-inch dick (really?!) or giving you the Clap. Side note: how have I not gotten an STD? Seems like 60% of stories submitted are about our little friend Gonorrhea. Yikes!

SK: What makes a good story? Which one(s) are your favorite?
Mom: A good story is one that is so ridiculous you can’t believe it’s real, or just outright embarrassing and unbelievable. I got one while at Brunch yesterday about a dude leaving skid marks on a girl’s bed every time he spent the night – how does that even happen? Seriously!

SK: Are you still accepting submissions? What's the best way to submit them?
Mom: Definitely! Now that the site is back up and running we have to get interest in it going again. The best – and only way to submit them is to email theworstdudes@gmail.com - make sure to keep the story short and a picture is not necessary.

SK: What do you say to people who accuse you of exploiting these hipster dudes? Are you afraid of a backlash?
Mom: Maybe not hipsters but definitely dudes with beards. I think the backlash has happened as much as its going to. People aren’t happy about it but as long as the stories stay fun and harmless, I think the people who enjoy it greatly outweigh those who disapprove.

SK: Is there anything else you'd like to say about the purpose of the site or the future of it?
Mom: I just hope people keep going to it now that it has moved. I loved the tumblr interface so much I know it’s not as fun/easy to look at now but we’re working on it.

And, there you have it! A huge thanks goes out to "Mom" for entertaining our hard-hitting questions. Have you seen this site yet? What are your thoughts?

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This Week: Break Up Extravaganza

Alright Internet, I’m just going to come out with it: I got dumped. This should come as no surprise to anyone--least of all me--because, well, I write for a dating blog. And not just any dating blog, but one that extensively details the failings of men and women all over our fair city of Philadelphia. What else was I expecting? Did I really expect this guy to be my prince charming? I mean, I know I called him that when he’d pick me up on his way home from work to cook me dinner at his house, but I mean, I didn’t really believe it. Right?

Actually, Internet, the sad truth is that I did. I was that gullible, that dumb. What a bummer. And, the biggest bummer of all is that I don’t hate him. Isn’t that how you're supposed to feel, post-breakup? Aren’t you supposed to despise the dude who just, “broke your heart?” Well, I don’t. Not even a little bit. I still want him to take me to the planetarium for my birthday. I still want to go to Puerto Rico with him in March. And, I still want to spend an excruciatingly painful day couch shopping in New Jersey with his dumb ass. C’est la vie.

But what I’m quickly realizing is that he’s not my prince charming. And that’s okay. As much as I want to do those things again--and as hard as it is not to email him those things after three beers on an empty stomach at the POPE celebrating Obama’s inauguration--I know that we’re not right for each other. It’s hard to accept, but it’s there and I know it. Besides, I’m still pretty miffed that he dumped me via email. I mean, how can you romanticize a dude who would do that?

Where was I going with this? Oh, right. I got dumped. And once I finished stuffing my face with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half-Baked, I put my sticky fingers to the keyboard and emailed Anna to suggest a breakup special. I mean, it’s almost Valentine’s Day and you know dudes are dropping like flies, freaking out about chocolates and hearts and roses. So, get ready Philadelphia, we’re going to give you our Shmitten Kitten Guide to Break Ups, including tips on how you should and shouldn’t call it quits, our favorite breakup supplies and guides, how to make your next move, and how to use your breakup to your advantage.

So put on your pjs, grab some snacks, and join us for our Break Up Extravaganza! We'll be doing posts on this subject all week. Oh, and just because we're girls doesn't mean this stuff doesn't apply to dudes too. Just make the appropriate gender substitutions. It works. I swear.

Do you have some sage wisdom on this subject? Email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com to commiserate with our dumped asses.

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Break Up Extravaganza: In Case of A Break Up Emergency, Consult This List

The day my breakup became official I was with my mom (hi, Mom!) in Maryland. When we got back to Philly, I made her cart my cranky ass to Target where I stocked the cart with what I like to think of as my breakup supplies:

Chocolove's Raspberries in Dark Chocolate bars. Oh my lord, these things are like heaven for my mouth. Delicious dark chocolate sprinkled with little chunks of freeze dried raspberries. Be still, my heart! When I eat them, I intentionally ignore the dumb love poem printed in the wrapper (which, when I'm coupled up, I find to be very sweet.) It's like crack. And it tastes way better than that marzipan my ex used to try to get me to eat.

A pint of Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked. I don't care if it does have a stupid stoner movie name, there's nothing better than a tub of cookie dough and brownie chunks swirled through chocolate and vanilla ice cream. And, I don't care that it's January. I will wear gloves if I have to while eating this heavenly treat. There's something about this brand of ice cream that catapults it from dairy dessert to SOUL SOOTHING SALVE that baffles me to this day. It's basically an over-the-counter, high-calorie version of Xanax.

Chocolate chip cookie dough in a tube. These things always seem like a good idea at first which is how they even made it into the cart. I snipped open the tube, ate two spoonfuls, then became thoroughly grossed out. After a while, I put the cookie tube to use and made a batch that sat on my counter for a week uneaten before I threw them away. But, those first two bites were still worth it.

And then there are things you can't get at Target, but are equally helpful:

The book, It's Called a Break Up Because It's Broken. Just looking at that Web site makes me cringe. Owning the book makes me cringe. The whole thing is so embarrassing that I considered leaving it off my list. But I'm doing this for you guys, and that book helped me, so whatevs. And while I know it's corny and stupid, it's also helpful. Greg Behrendt and his wife Amira know what they're talking about. Even if you don't follow it to a T, even if you have to wear a disguise to purchase it, I highly recommend it. Jesus, I just "highly recommended" a self help book about break ups. Sigh.

Your friends. Anna mentioned this one and it's so true. Nothing gets me through sad days like lunch with my best friends. Or phone calls. Or trips to Sonic and North Bowl. Or a beer at the POPE. It doesn't matter what we do, knowing that I've got them to hold me up and remind me how awesome I am helps. I'll bet your friends are just as great.

What Would Cher From Clueless Do? aka retail therapy. This one can be hard because money is tight all around right now, but I treated myself. I went to Anthropologie and bought a hot dress. Then, I went to Sephora and bought some lipstick. I dolled myself up and went out with some of those awesome friends of mine and flaunted it all. And it felt great! You don't need to spend a ton of cash, as picking up something small to boost your confidence works too. You have to treat yourself, even if it's just to fresh cut flowers from Trader Joe's.

So, what's on your break up supply list? Leave your best remedies in the comments' section.

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Break Up Extravaganza: Dumper Directives

Okay, here's something else I need to get off my chest: I'm almost NEVER the dumper. Our own Miss K apparently has that title on lockdown, but I am more likely to be the dumpee. What this means is, I can give all you fine ladies and gents a breakdown of what I think should be the Rules for the Dumper. Let's do this:

1. Do not dump someone via the Internet. Yes, I know, I'm a little sensitive about this one, but hear me out. If you've been dating someone long enough to call it an exclusive relationship you owe it to them to give them more than an email. Or a Twitter update. Or, god forbid, a passive aggressive status change on Facebook/MySpace. Your soon-to-be ex deserves more than some words on a screen. Be fair.

2. Try to avoid text message break ups and the phone, too. I know, now I'm just getting downright picky, but come on. Isn't face to face really the best medium for a conversation like this? A text message is just childish, and a phone call is impersonal. Suck it up and make a date to talk. Preferably at one of your homes. Because, the last thing anyone wants is to try to hold back tears over a grilled cheese at the Royal Tavern. Also, I don't want you to spoil my grilled cheese. I love that grilled cheese.

3. When your soon-to-be ex asks you if, "this is what you really want?" Say yes. I don't care if it's going to make her cry, I don't care if maybe you're not entirely sure that it's what you want, I don't care. Say, "Yes." Just do it. In the end, it'll make it easier for everyone. I know it's not easy to be on your side of this either, but you're just going to have to play the bad guy here. Deal with it, Champ.

4. Like good tofu, be kind, but firm. If your ex is anything like me, she's going to get drunk and sad and lonely and she's going to text you. Or call you. Or email you. Please, for her sake, don't berate her! She's just going through the gamut of emotions one goes through post-breakup and she already feels like shit. She doesn't need you telling her she's crazy, it's not going to make her suddenly snap out of it, etc. Just let her be.

Ignore her calls; yes, all 20 of them. Compose a brief response telling her you're sorry she's not doing well and that you hope she feels better soon. Maybe even suggest she get in touch with a good friend instead. But, do not tell her you wish things could be different, that you still think she's fantastic, or that you miss her too, even if those things are true. It'll just delay her recovery.

5. Don't push the friends card. So, you wanna be friends? That's great! We're really glad you acknowledge that your ex was in your life because, you know, you liked her. But give it some time. You see, you were the one who broke up with her and that means you already knew you didn't want to be with her when you broke it off. Which means that you were prepared. Which means you're more removed from this emotionally than she is.

Which means, dude, she doesn't want to be your friend right now. If she says she does, it's because she thinks being your friend will win her back your love. You and I both know it won't. So let it be. Once she comes to terms with things (i.e. bones another dude) she'll extend her friendship. And if she doesn't, well, you're the guy who dumped her, so you gotta deal. Sorry, Charlie. Thems the breaks.

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Anna's Quick And Easy Guide To Dealing With A Break Up

1. Send out the Bat Signal to your crew. Let them know that you are bummin'. I recommend sending a group text updating them all about your break up so you'll get a ton of attention back at once. It'll take about eight times of retelling the story before you start to burn yourself out, so choose who you tell the story in detail to wisely.

2. Do a clean sweep. Take everything that reminds you of your ex-honey and stuff it into a bag. Then, hide it somewhere you won't find it, like in your attic, under your sink, or bury it in your backyard. If you must, keep one picture of him to affix to a dartboard. Hey, you're healing! It's allowed.

3. Rally your best friends to your side. They'll secretly be happy because your brand new break up means that you are going to be able to hang out on the weekends again. That leads into point 4:

4. Good news: you'll be fun again! No more floppin' around his apartment rifling through his Netflix batting around ideas of where you guys wanna go for dinner. Nope! Now, you'll be up for ragin' and going out on the town with your homies (which, be honest, you kinda missed).

5. Think of all the new people you'll meet post-break up. For the most part, they will be there with you when the lights come on at 2:03am but whatevs. You are meeting new people. It's a good thing. And, spoiler alert, at least one guy will look pretty good to you at the end of the night. Besides, if you squint, he kinda looks like your ex. Trust us.

6. DO NOT CHECK YOUR EX'S BLOG/FACEBOOK/WHATEVER. This one cannot be emphasized enough. It'll just make you feel weird. Resist the urge!

7. This might seem a bit hypocritical since we are a site that is talking about our break ups, but do NOT talk about your recent break up on any of your sites (unless it's a really funny story in which case you should submit it to us). The goal is to look aloof, like it ain't no thang but a chicken wing on a string. Step away from the computer if you have to. Right now, it's all about appearances and you need to appear to be not crazy and not bitter. Write that on your hand, if you have to. You're gonna meet a new guy soon enough and believe me, he'll do a quick Google search about you. And, when he sees your diatribes going off on your ex, he will back away slowly.

8. Don't sign up for an online dating sight right away. It will depress you even more and it will make your ex look practically like a saint. As you browse through the profiles, you'll think that at least your ex wasn't a severely overweight Kid Rock fan who has a soul patch, a boring job, and lives about 45 minutes away (which is what every online suitor seems to be like.)

9. Take some time to yourself and treat yourself nicely aka the Splurge-a-lurge phase. Visit your out of town buddies. Get a mint brownie from the Flying Monkey Bakery at Reading Terminal Market. Spring for the top-shelf whiskey. You're on the mend! One of the best parts about being single is that you can now spend all the money you used to spend on him on yourself. It's pretty sweet. Go ahead, buy that shower gel from Lush. You're dating yourself now. Be kind.

10. As Tupac so wisely sang, "Keep Ya Head Up." It's just a break up. Allow yourself time to heal, sure, but if you wallow in self-pity for too long you'll start to annoy your loved ones. We suggest channeling your energy into a project to both distract you from your heartache and build up your self-esteem. And, before long, you'll be cooler and over him. It's a win/win!

11. Or, if you feel like kickin' up some drama, submit his photo and a quick story about why he was terrible to I Bang the Worst Dudes (Sorry, Mom). Or don't. But, maybe just thinking about it could put a smile on your face.

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Reader Submission: Break Up Extravaganza "Bon Voyage"

We received this reader submission from Wayne about his recent bittersweet break up. Read on:

After a rather uneventful start of the summer enjoying the leisurely life of a public school teacher, I was out with friends at a South Philly bar one night, bitching and moaning about the quality of women that are out there. While my two female friends were outside smoking, I was graciously watching their bags and brooding. I noticed a rather striking young lady sitting at the bar. I gazed and gazed and when my friends came in, I requested they walk up and give her my number. They smartly refused and told me flat out how lame that would be.

So, in a flash of courage, as my companions and I were leaving to attend an outdoor film, I walked up, introduced myself, and handed my number and email over to her. An hour later, I got a text message from an out of town number asking me if I'd like to get a drink. I ditched my friends, grabbed my bike, and hustled my ass back to Passyunk Ave.

So we talked and drank and talked and I found out she was interning in town over the summer, living in New York and finishing grad school. She was pretty much going back there in a month. It was a nice, no-big-deal night out with a great girl.

A few days later, I sent her a text asking her out again. I took her for out for Mexican food at 9th and Federal, then to a secret spot for a drink. It was a good night. It went on from there with a date a week, (thanks to my trusty babysitter Amanda Mello helping me out) watching The Wire all the way through, etc, until she went back to the big city.

So, you'd figure that's the end of story, right?

Not so fast. We ended up trading weekends, one in Chelsea, one in South Philly. It was like a goddamn Godard film. Looking out of her beautiful condo window onto Manhattan, how couldn't a boy be smitten?

We went away for weekends, she met my 7 year old son, I met all of her friends, she met mine. Dreamland. Then reality started to sink in. The distance between us kind of sucked and she was going to Paris for six months to finish her studies. So, we have the talk and figure we need to get ready for this. We decided to go off for one last nice weekend in the snow. It couldn't have been more movie script ending; the icy streets of Cambridge, room service, reading stories while stuck in traffic.

I guess this break up story is about acceptance and maybe taking from it what you can. I'm a South Philly boy, there's no doubt about it. But it sure was nice to go outside the box and wonder for a bit. Some days ain't easy. I liked her. It certainly helps that what I walk around during the day are my surroundings, yet I cringe every time I see the Manhattan skyline on TV.

Awwww! Wayne! What a sweet story. Thanks for sending it in. Now, we are going to go watch Annie Hall and cry. Again. For the third time today.

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Break Up Extravaganza: You Gotta Know When to Hold 'Em And Know When To Fold 'Em

Since the beginning of my dating career, I've been a master at the art of dumping. The first boy I ever dumped was named Max. We were 12 and we began our short lived romance at summer camp. He asked me for a dance at our camp's awkward summer social, and I accepted. At the end of our dance, he asked if I would be his girlfriend. (I guess I'm just that good of a dancer?!) I accepted, but later that night, back at my cabin, I reconsidered.

Did I really want a boyfriend? I was only 12 and the thought of kissing a boy seemed pretty gross. Would I even be good at it? Max had braces and I did not; would that matter? What if I had to sneeze? What if I caught cooties? So many questions! I panicked.

That night I devised a plan to break up with Max. The plan was--I kid you not--based around a Seinfeld episode I had seen. It's the one where George discloses his master plan of breaking up with the line, "It's not you, it's me." The next day, I penned a letter to Max on the flowery, yellow stationary my mom had bought me especially for camp. It read:

Dear Max,

Sorry I can't be your girlfriend. It's not you it's me.

From,
Shannon

My friend delivered the letter to him the next day. Max opened the letter. He cried. And, I don't mean he shed a tear or two; he full on wailed. One of the counselors had to take him aside and calm him down. It was a horrible sight. He probably still looks back on that moment with shame and regret. Needless to say, I felt horrible for upsetting him, but deep down I was sure I had done the right thing. Even at age 12, I knew I would never want to date a guy that was such a whiner!

Since then, I've broken up with more than a few boys for a gamut of reasons. I once dumped a guy because his house smelled weird. I dumped another for not taking me to the diner for a grilled cheese with tomato when I was starving. I even once dumped a guy for being an ex-cult member and being super weird about it. The list goes on. These reasons may sound frivolous or bizarre and maybe they make me sound shallow, but I honestly believe if you know someone is not right for you, you gotta cut them loose. It's as simple as that.

The last break-up I had was two days before Christmas this past year. I had been SUPER stoked about the guy and basically fallen head over heels for him. Unfortunately, it took a few months of dating for me to realize he was not the right guy for me so I cut him loose and never looked back. You gotta know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em!

Keep in mind that whenever you end a relationship, it opens up a world of possibilities for you to better yourself. Lately, I've learned to bake bread and I'm surprising myself with how good it's coming out. I'm like the Pillsbury Dough Boy over here! It feels great to have my time and energy devoted elsewhere.

So, this is my contribution to our dating guide: If he/she's not right for you and you know it, move on. I will even go so far as to say "Hooray for breaking up!" Now you can tackle that needlepoint you always wanted to do, re-upholster your sofa, or spend time playing with your kitten! Maybe you can finish that big ass novel you never were able to muscle through. Breaking up with someone frees up a lot of your time and I believe this can be a very good thing. So, my advice is to use your free time to the best of your abilities.

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Quick Rant: The Candy Aisle At The Drug Store From Now Until Feb. 15

Ok, we get it. Valentine's Day is right around the corner. But, do we have to be assaulted with pink-foiled confections, shoddily made stuffed animals, and helium balloons reminding us of this when we pop in to grab more contact lens solution?

Yes, we know that we are single and that the only person who will gave enough of a rat's ass to call us their Valentine on that cursed Hallmark holiday is our Mom. GIVE IT A REST, CVS! Isn't it enough that you always have to do a price check (loudly, over the store intercom) on our--ahem--feminine hygiene products every. single. time. we have to buy them? Does CVS stand for Creating Victimizing Situations?

By the way, if we were ever going to picket that drug store chain, that would totally be the slogan we'd scrawl on our homemade sign.

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Tip Our Hats: Guys That Wear Argyle Socks

The argyle sock is a a bold fashion choice with immense payoff potential. If done well, it can transform an average guy from ho-hum to hot stud. Guys, when you flash that diamond pattern as you flex your foxy ankle, it makes us do a double-take and flip our shades all Dwayne-Wayne style. And, there is something about the kind of guy who wears argyle socks that makes us sit up and take notice. He probably:

• has a library card
• can enjoy movies with subtitles in them
• has neat penmanship
• smells clean like the woods
• calls their grandmother at least once a week just to say hi
  
• can sew a button onto a shirt, if need be
• returns calls in a timely manner
• had a zine in high school and/or a blog now
  
• has created at least one piece of artwork on his bedroom walls
  
• knows how to drive stick shift cars
• never kisses and tells
• will make you dinner on your third date
• wears v-neck sweaters
• listens to rap music while he does housework
• appreciates a good scotch
• has a cool brother
  
• has smoked a cigar and/or a pipe at some point
• owns a shoe shine kit
• likes British sit-coms
  

For all of you argyle sock wearers, we tip our hats to you. Just so you know, you are basically wearing foot lingerie.

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Tip Our Hats: Guys Who Let Us Pick The Music During A Car Ride

Attention dudes: if you wanna promote harmony in the world, ditch the "Visualize World Peace" bumper sticker and just let us play car deejay. Because when a guy hands over the reigns to his car stereo, the planets align and all is right in the world. The sky opens up and sunshine beams down onto us as the musical notes ascend to the Heavens. Or, at least, that's how it feels to us. You are trusting us with the fun-ness of the car trip and believe us, we will NOT let you down.

It's even better when you scroll through his iPod and pick a Bob Dylan song--"I Want You" is a personal fave--or a Pixies song off of Doolittle and he looks over and says, "Nice choice, sweetie." We're getting all glowy just thinking about it.

Conversely, if you want to irritate us, then by all means, be a total dick about what we listen to and criticize every song choice we make. Scowl at us when we inch up the volume to "Since U Been Gone." Make us feel uncultured for liking pop songs with hooks and harmonies. See how far you'll get with us then. (The answer is not very.)

So, for all you guys that let us tweak your radio knobs, we tip our hats to you. That small gesture shows us that you actively encourage our happiness. You like it when we're happy and that makes us happy, ya dig?

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Reader Submission: Holiday Horror Story, "Beware of the Flaky Ex"

We received this reader submission from our buddy, Brady. After reading his story, our New Year's resolution is now to give the finger to flaky exes once and for all.

My worst holiday horror story was last New Year's Eve. The love of my life, the girl I dated back when I was 23-25 (I'm 31 now) had gotten back in touch with me. This has been a pattern with us over the years: getting back in touch. Maybe see each other. Start talking about the future. Have a blow up fight. Don't speak for a year.

Sweet.

Anyway, she proposed in the fall that we meet up in Brooklyn for New Year's. I was all for it, but leery of her flakiness. We kept talking about it, and after I made her a really cute birthday video she said, that yes, she really wanted to go through with it. Again, remember: this was her idea. Not mine. It was 100% her.

So we move forward, trading emails about plans, etc. etc. Three days before New Year's, she emails me to say she's really excited to see me. Awesome.

I went to New York and spent a couple days with my wonderful-but-quiet crew of married and pregnant friends in Queens. On December 30th, when I was already in town and waiting to meet up with her, she emailed me and said that she'd decided that things would just get too complicated if we saw each other and it would be "simpler" if we just did our own thing. Well, conveniently, most of the other options I had were back in Philadelphia, and I couldn't get back there. I'd left Philadelphia for her sake, after all. She, conveniently, had made a back-up plan for herself, and I hadn't picked up on it.

So I spent New Year's at my friends' place in Queens, eating Hors D'oeurves and watching Robo-Dick-Clark with three married couples on a couch and stewing. When I checked out at 12:30, I could barely sleep I was so annoyed with myself. If not for a iPod full of Willie Nelson, I might have stared at the ceiling all night long.

It was, of course, my own fault, and one that I'm definitely not going to make again. Beware of making traveling plans to see your exes, that's all I have to say. Even if they were, once upon a time, the very best ever.

Oh, man! That's the worst. This girl sounds flakier than a Southern biscuit. I did like how there was a moral of the story at the end. How very Danny Tanner of you. Well, Brady, thanks for sending this in and reminding us that flaky exes should get the boot!

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Gettin' Our Cupid On

Hey guys! In our last post, we discussed where to find rad, possibly employed dudes in this city and a few rad, totally employed dudes responded. They told us how they are frustrated that they can't find rad women. We should hook 'em up, don't you think?

Even though we bust on dating here, ultimately, we love love. And, we want to encourage it! So, dudes, send us yer picture and a little bit about where you hang out in Philly. Ladies, do the same. Maybe we can get something going here.

Email everything to us at hi@shmittenkitten.com. If any of you dudes are under 5'11, wear glasses, and can keep up with me in a game of Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture edition, I just might have to snap you up myself. And, just so we're clear, if any babies are produced from our matchmaking, we reserve the right to name 'em. I'm thinking either Wilson or Philips; your call.

[Update: I just wanted to clarify a few things. I, Anna, will be the only one who will see anything you submit. I won't release any personal information or photos you send me without your expressed consent. A bunch of rad ladies have already written in. Fellas, step up to the plate! Unlike a dating site like OkCupid or Match, you are not creating a public profile. Again, this is all through me pairing two rad people who I think might get on well. Come on, what do you have to lose?]

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Dear Shmitten Kitten: Where Are All The Hot Young Dudes In This Town? (aka The Million Dollar Question)

We got a letter from one of our readers who needs guidance about Philly's dating world. Naturally, she turned to us. Let's put on our reading glasses and see what's up:

Dear Shmitten Kitten,

I just got out of a year+ relationship that I was in when I moved here, so I've never been single in the city. I figured you girls would know best: where is there for a single girl to meet people? Thanks!

Signed,
Help Me, Shmitten Kitten, You're My Only Hope

Well, HMSKYMOH, you've come to the right place. If there is anyone who knows where the dudes are, it's us. Step right up and let's take a look-see. Imagine us on my rooftop, surveying the city below us. I'm gonna give this to you straight so buckle up.

If you're looking for over-educated, emotionally unavailable Elvis Costello-type drunks, I would suggest milling around Center City's premiere dive bar, McGlinchy's. If you wanna date a guy who will spend half of your date checking his hair in his cell phone's reflection, you could pick up a dude at the Barbary. If you wanna hear the phrase, "Wanna go back to my place and listen to the demo I just recorded?" then hustle on over to Johnny Brenda's. Wanna meet a guy who has a sweet record collection but doesn't have a real job and is in his thirties? Go grope 'em at the Pope. Do you wanna hang with a guy who picks fights with cabbies and walks around in nothing but a shiny blue shirt in the middle of winter? You have your pick of Old City watering holes. I'm not even going to include West Philly dudes because you're not gonna wanna deal with the schlep to their drafty flophouse. Maybe you should consider going to Making Time, the anything-goes-funfest. If you can't hook up at that party, then you must be dead. Or asleep.

What's that? Oh, you want to date a normal dude, not just have a fast and sleazy hook-up? Oh jeez. I don't know what to tell you. Actually, this blog is about how we can't get a boyfriend so this is kinda awkward. Maybe the new fiction section at Barnes & Noble? Or, Reading Terminal Market on the weekends? Take a yoga class? Take a page from Meg Ryan's book and get an AOL account. Who knows? We haven't--ahem--cracked that code yet. Maybe there's some magical place in town where single guys magically wait for us lovely ladies to pluck them from singlehood. Well, it does exist and it's called OkCupid.com and it's actually a pretty terrifying place.

Our verdict: dudes seem to only come to you when you aren't sweating them. So, don't sweat it. Also, alcohol helps.

Do you have a question for us about some important life quandry? Drop a line to hi@shmittenkitten.com and we'll give it the ol' college try.

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Tip Our Hats: Music Critics

If you ever want to feel completely unappreciated in your chosen line of work, become a music critic. For the most part, they are considered to be a low notch on the totem poll of writers. They're under Cosmo feature writers and barely above writers for in-flight magazines.

Sure, you'll have your superstar critic breakout every now and then like Lester Bangs, Rob Sheffield, Douglas Wolk, Jim DeRogatis, Chuck Klosterman, or your favorite Pitchfork scribe. But, on the whole, EVERYONE hates music critics. Except us!

As a former music critic, I can say with confidence that most bands rarely acknowledge the effort put into to crafting features about them. Editors rarely tell you, "Good job on that Man Man review. I loved the way you assessed the way the band has evolved since their last album." Yeah, that will never happen. And, the readers barely react to your work. It's almost like writing into a void.

But, we love 'em because they take their work seriously. It's charming. They will spend an inordinate amount of energy crafting the perfect album review within their word count limit. After dissecting the album's themes, they even tell you which songs are the best to download. Thanks, dudes!

Music reviewers are the unsung heroes of our world, along with the guy who cleans up after the bar closes and waiters who give you free refills of diet coke. So, we tip our hats to those that listen, write, and can't play: music critics.

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Tip Our Hats: Guys That Pick Great Songs To Sing In Karaoke

There are few things better than a guy who can start the party with his totally spot-on karaoke song choice. When he commands the stage and really gets into it, it's pretty awesome. For that minute, in that dank karaoke den, we beam with pride that yes, we are there with the guy who just gave Axl W. Rose a run for his money and belted out to, "Watch it bring you to your shun-na-na-na-na knees, knees."

We're not historians on the subject, but we suppose that Ferris Bueller was the earliest example of this phenomenon. He got an entire city to boogey to "Twist and Shout." I mean, look at him over there rockin' the mic like it ain't no thang. His hair is all wind-tossed, his eyebrows are, like, ten feet off his forehead. He OWNS that karaoke performance. And, he didn't even need a monitor with the words! That's impressive.

Other stellar karaoke song choices are:

• "Everybody Wants Some" by Van Halen, complete with Diamond Dave-esque howls
  
• "Hungry Like The Wolf" by Duran Duran
  
• "Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)" by Wham
• "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC
• "Big Poppa" by Notorious B.I.G.
  
• "Turn Back Time" by Cher (trust us on this one)
  
• "Fallen Angel" by Poison
• "Sail Away" by Enya (just kidding!)
• "Kiss" by Prince
• "Pour Some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard
• "Live Wire" by Motley Crue
  
• The Fresh Prince theme song
  

An honorable mention goes out to some country songs and old-skool rap songs. Those can be really fun, too. But, only in moderation. We're looking for upbeat crowd-pleasers here.

So, to all you karaoke superstars, we tip our hats to you. Your ability to bring the house down with your soulful renditions can really lift our spirits up.

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