Little Known Fact: I Would've Preferred A Fadeout

I'm gonna suggest you take a cue from Kid's hairstyle and do a fade on me. It's fine. Really, you didn't have to craft me an email about how you feel about dating me right now (more specifically, that you don't want to do it.) And, you don't have to text me saying, "Is there a good time we can talk?" Honestly, I'd prefer it if we didn't talk about this shitshow attempt at dating we've been trying to do the past few weeks. Personally, I was planning on just not returning any of your calls again. That's what I was thinking. Especially after our last date when we got in an argument about politics and then you snapped at our server for taking too long. I knew right then that this wasn't going anywhere.

I tried to communicate this to you psychically, but maybe you didn't pick up on it. I wish there was some document I could sign letting you know that I'm totally okay with you blowing me off but alas, this post will have to do. It will not hurt my feelings if I never hear from you again. I will still badmouth you to my girlfriends, but that'll be pretty much it in regards to my ill will. If anything, your fadeout would be a relief. I am looking forward to never seeing your name pop up on my cell phone and pretending we don't know each other should we cross paths again. Hey, the more you know!

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Quick Rant: I Don't Want To Hear Your Stupid Speech About What You Think You Are Ready For Relationship-Wise

I would rather listen to anything--a dentist's drill, a seal's mating call, Santa's snores, literally ANYTHING--than listen to you prattle on about where your head is at in regards to our blossoming relationship. Do you know why? Because it's only our first date. We haven't even received our food yet, much less entered into anything remotely resembling a relationship. I hate to bum you out, especially when you just bought me a nice beer with a respectably high alcohol content, but I really could not care less about where your head is about "us."

Frankly, I resent this entire set up. I'm a captive audience boxed into this restaurant booth. I have to make eye contact with you as you detail every nuance about where/when/if/how you will be able to enter a new relationship. Should I be taking notes? Will I be quizzed on any of this later? I'm so silly; I thought that you asked me out to dinner, but apparently you hired me for a therapy session. I feel like I'm getting a book report on your emotions.

That's great that you want to be upfront, but this little prepared speech that you're giving me is an insanely huge turn-off. While I'm being honest, [n.b. I would never actually tell a guy any of this] I'm seeing three other guys right now and out of all of them, you're the one I've hooked up with the least. It's totally fine that you aren't ready for a relationship. I'm not even sure if I want to kiss you later tonight, much less if I want to be your girlfriend. And, I don't appreciate you assuming that I want to be your girlfriend anyway. As Stephanie Tanner would say, "How rude!"

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Reader Submission For A Phrase We'd Like To Stab In The Face: "You Know I'm Just Not That Perceptive"

From our lovely reader Julie:

I want to stab the phrase, "you know I'm just not that perceptive," in the face.  It's his relationship disclaimer setting the bar so low on the outset that he's releasing himself from any and all expectations ever. That's some lawyer-type shit right there. He forgot your birthday? He blew off dinner with your parents? He didn't remember that he was supposed to pick you up from work? His defense is that you knew that he was just not that perceptive when you began dating him. So, it's actually your fault for having higher expectations. He pleads how he was born that way, just like how he has blue eyes and was genetically pre-dispositioned to begin balding at 28. According to him, his "perceptiveness"--or his lack thereof--is an immutable FACT, not a skill or attribute that can be learned or improved upon.

After I simmer with rage about wanting to stab that phrase in the face, I understand its true meaning; he's just LAZY and is ultimately not that interested in being considerate of me. 

Whoa. That's pretty intense. What phrases would you like to stab in the face? Drop us a line to hi@shmittenkitten.com and sharpen your threoretical knives. Huh. Theoretical knives. That'd be a great band name, wouldn't it?

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Things I'm Terrible At: Telling A Guy That I Don't Like His Underwear

My new dude is hilarious and handsome. But there's one thing I just can't get past: he wears tightie whities. Only Calvin Klein models from the '90s and David Beckham look halfway decent in these cottony nut huggers. Otherwise, tightie whities make me think of what little boys wear when they are just out of diapers but still wet the bed, or old men with skidmarks, or Borat in that hotel scene of his movie. I hate to break it to you, but tighty whities are not sexy on the majority of human males.

No matter how charming he is, I start acting weird as soon as I see that little bit of white elastic fabric peeking out from the top of his jeans. It's there mocking me everytime he bends over to grab a beer out of the fridge or locks up his bike. It actually makes my hands clammy and I get nervous and try to stand behind him so no one else can see it.

But I don't know how to tell him that it's a total turnoff because he's such a sweetheart. I prefer briefs but boxers are fine. I'd even be able to handle the tight little boy underwear if it was in another color, say Midnight Black or Superhero Red. Anything but white. I've tried the subtle gift-giving of briefs, only to be told that his white underwear is the only kind that fits. Really? The ONLY kind? There are like 200 underwear brands out there, I guarantee one of them will fit and not make him look like the man with the old balls from Big Daddy. My friend poked fun at him as he bent over his bar stool last weekend, saying "Awww, how cute! Tightie whities! Ha!" I was secretly cheering her on, but now he just thinks she's a total bitch. *Sigh*

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Pics and Vids: Mix Tape Speed Dating, The Movie

Here is a video our buddy Neal Santos made for the City Paper about our party last night. That's our beautiful writer Lora explaining how the party will go down. We had a blast and I think we created a bit of love in the city. Thanks to everyone who came out. Thanks to Dani and the fine people at Dos Segundos for being so accomodating. Thanks to Lora, Jon, and Alexis at Popped! for organizing it. And, thanks to me for playing such awesome music!

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Tip Our Hats: Rag Tag Dude Crews

Look at them over there joshing around like a pile of puppies. Rag tag dude crews are basically like if you gave puppies a driver's license and a hankering for cheap beer. They all have the silliest nicknames for each other that sound like they're culled from childrens' books : Gonzo, Mouth, Buzzsaw, Boner, Hooter, Sharkey, Ponyboy, the list goes on. It seems like the wackier they are, the better.

We are willing to bet $50 that at least three of these fellas have a jokey tattoo of like a Wawa hoagie or a slice of pizza smoking a cigarette or some shit. A few of them live together in some shanty house on the outskirts of the city. They throw parties constantly and get a kick out of trashing their house. One dude has a hole in his bedroom from when he drunkenly wrestled his brother last year. His bathroom sink is full of hair from a 2am drunk head shaving incident last weekend. As long as we don't have to clean any of their messes up, we'll overlook it.

They have a secret handshake and you usually run into them at some random potluck/dj night/art opening/party. Yes, we said art opening. At least one guy in the group is an accomplished artist and always has some show going on at Space 1026.

Dating one would basically be like dating a puppy; they pee anywhere they want and they need to be trained. But, since they're so much fun to cuddle with, we'll keep 'em around. Another great thing about a rag tag dude crew member is that he'll be cool with you for life if you had a friendly breakup. In fact, he'll morph into an a sort of older brother figure after a few years. It's weird, yet rad.

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Tip Our Hats: Guys Who Won A Science Fair In Their Youth

I can barely hold my molecules together because this is so adorable. As a former science kit kid who has a self-teach biology book as an adult, there is nothing sweeter than knowing you totally took all the marbles at a school science fair. When I was nine years old, Bill Nye was my main squeeze. I watched any and all educational programming on PBS before dinner when I was a kid and, chances are, if you did too then we would be a match made in nerd heaven.

So what was it you constructed that wowed your teachers? Did you go all out and make something grow? Explode? Implode? Were you experimental or did you go by the book? Was it a homemade battery? A paper mache dinosaur? Some mold from your locker in a petri dish? An eco-system?

Or were you the more refined, spectacle-and-sweater-wearing, stoic school goer; a regular little Egon who let everyone know that dioramas were so 1973 and that a baking soda and vinegar volcano was a cop out? Was your project as cool as a 3D Styrofoam model of a brain that was made of packing peanuts?*

This kind of guy totally floats our potato-batteried boat. We love a smart man and not just because they usually own a few pairs of argyle socks. And we don't just dig any ol' dude who took a few honors classes in high school. We dig curious, intelligent men who are genuinely interested in what the universe is made of and how it all fits together. So, boys who won a science fair back in the day, we tip our hats to you. I can promise you there's gonna be some chemistry between us. Hubba hubba.


*FYI, I may have made that in 4th grade.

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Speed Dating To To Two Cherry Cokes

Tomorrow, we are hosting our second Mix Tape Speed Dating party at Dos Segundos. Sign-in is at 6:30pm, the first round starts at 7pm and it goes until 9pm. Click here for an entire overview as I answer some FAQs. Feel free to come earlier and jump in on some happy hour specials.

The theme of the night is '90s emo/pop-punk and I have to say that this party is one of the ones I'm most excited about. I grew up on this stuff. I interviewed some of these bands for my zine, I blasted them from my car stereo, I put them on mix tapes for boys I had crushes on; they were in my teenage blood. Avail, Lifetime, Bouncing Souls, Jawbreaker, Jimmy Eat World, Plow United, Weston, Rancid, Rainer Maria, Joan of Arc, Screeching Weasel, Hot Water Music, Sunny Day Real Estate, Get Up Kids, Saves the Day, The Promise Ring, Less Than Jake; all of these bands (and more) will be played. If I was a dj, without a doubt these would be the bands I'd play on my night. If you're a fan of this stuff, please come out. It's gonna be radical. Click on the image below to sign up.

ALSO, due to popular demand, our next mix tape speed party taking place on Thursday, October 8th has been moved from the Cantina to the Khyber. We are gonna play '90s indie rock for that one. Sweet! Mark yer calendars. 

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Tip Our Hats: Microphone Caressers

Hands down, this is our favorite rock star pose. There's something about seeing a frontman grab the mic with both of his hands that really blows our hair back. We've never wished to be an inanimate object before, but when we see singers grab a mic like they're about to plant a passionate kiss on the thing, well, we wish we were that mic stand. Keep it up, all you microphone caressers out there. It's the sleaziest pose you can do without leaning.

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: Harsh Overhead Lighting

I cannot walk into his house past 8pm without shielding my eyes. There is one overhead light fitted with a 100 watt light bulb and it's beaming down on us with the focused intensity of an angry parent. I'm pretty sure the interrogation room Batman roughed the Joker up in during that one scene in The Dark Knight had a more inviting lighting scheme. I guess if he was aiming for a bathroom-at-a-gas-station vibe he nailed it pretty well.

Harsh lighting is one of my least favorite things about a guy's house. It's just the worst. And, if he turns the lone light off, then it's pitch black. There's no soft, alluring in-between lighting option. And, that's a problem for me.

A little itty bitty Ikea lamp in the corner would go a long way. Or, a few strands of Christmas lights gingerly arranged around the windows would really set the mood. I'd wanna hang out in that room. I'd want to take my shoes off and stay awhile. Isn't that what he's aiming for here? Just remember: Lamps are for champs and dimmers are for winners. Write it down if you need to.

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Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I'm The Sweaty Guy On The Dance Floor

You know, a lot of girls complain that their boyfriends don't dance. Most of the dudes I know would prefer to kick back a few beers in the comfort of a booth or a table and don't really ever feel the inclination to shake it on the dance floor.

I'll be honest with you right now: I'm not that guy.

I know what you're thinking. You love dancing too. When the dj plays "Material Girl" by Madonna, you and your girlfriends are out on that dance floor in the blink of an eye. Wouldn't it be great if you had a boyfriend who wanted to do the same?

Maybe. But you haven't thought it through all the way.

I dance at bars, at house parties, at weddings. And here's the thing: I dance hard. I don't think I'm necessarily the greatest dancer, but I don't let that stop me from literally dancing for hours straight.

Here's where the problem comes in: Long after you've stopped dancing, I'm not only still out on the dance floor dancing with complete strangers, but now it's 1:30am and I'm a hot sweaty mess. When the inevitable Facebook photos start popping up, I'm the one people ask about. "Looks like fun, but who was that gyrating, red-faced, sweaty bearded dude?" That was me. I am that guy.

Some people make it look effortless. Some people never break a sweat. I am not fortunate enough to be one of those people. But, I refuse to let it stop me. So unless you love gross sweaty dudes who dance shamelessly to Lady Gaga, then you might want to reconsider letting me be your boyfriend.

[Photo credit: Karen Seifert]

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Surprisingly Not a Bonerkiller: He Might Be Dying Soon (But He Probably Isn't)

I recently met a guy at a bar who talked my ear off about his grave medical condition. Apparently, he was convinced that he was going to kick the bucket in the near future (maybe) and he cited some inconclusive medical tests as evidence. I felt bad for him but I was touched that he would trust me with such personal information. All of my nurturing instincts kicked in. I'd be strong enough for the both of us as we fought this terrible (unnamed, mind you) disease together; I'd make him soup, I'd pet his hair, I'd be his own personal Florence Nightingale.

I asked if he wanted to get together this week and he looked away with his eyes narrowed and focused on a fixed point off in the distance. "With my condition, I can't get close to anyone right now. All I can offer you is friendship." I assured him that I understood. With that, he put his hand on mine and nodded. We exchanged phone numbers and I gave him a hug. 

Then, I realized the genius of his plan. He is probably telling every girl in this bar that he's dying so when they take pity on him, he lays it out there that he isn't looking for a commitment. Hey, we thought guys with puppies were irresistible, but a dying guy with a vague diagnosis? That's roughly a dozen times hotter than a puppy. I fell right into his trap! I'm such a sucker.

Well played, dying dude who's probably not dying. Well played.

p.s. - That picture is from when Charlie pretended like he had cancer so that the waitress would go out with him. It was just like that.

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Phrases We'd Like To Stab In The Face: "You Can Come Over...If You Want"

"I think I'm just gonna lay low at my house. Um, you can come over...if you want."
"Well, do you want me to come over?" I say.  Long pause.
"It's up to you. I mean, you can. If you want." 

Not to be too dramatic, but nothing puts a pin in my balloon faster than hearing this out of a guy's mouth. It is the most non-committal, least enthusiastic, unfriendliest, crummiest thing to hear from someone you were excited to spend time with. Of course I want to hang out! Of course I want to come over! That's why I picked up the phone when you called. I put mascara on. I shaved my legs. I'm wearing my lucky blush for crying out loud. All signs point to Yes-I-Want-To-Hang-Out land. 

I'm not sure if this is even scientifically possible, but I swear I can hear him shrugging through the phone. This is maddening. Oh man, I think I just blew a gasket. I can feel the steam zipping out of my ear. I feel my whole body becoming hotter with anger, like when Sarah O'Connor grabs the fence when the nuclear bomb hits in Terminator 2.*

I wish I could stab this phrase in the face. I want to punch a pillow. I want to slam a heavy door. This two minute phone call has essentially turned me into the Hulk. Great.

*For all of my sensitive readers, the image above is a still from the movie Terminator 2. It is all CGI'ed and kinda fake looking. I can assure you that no one was harmed in the making of this post.

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Phrases We'd Like To Stab In The Face: "Hey, Babe, You Got This?"

There are a ton of things that guys say to us that flip our lid. This phrase in particular makes us go downright batty because of the expectation involved. What are you gonna to say? No, I do not got this? Are we gonna argue about who's gonna pay right there in the restaurant?

When you do begrudgingly pay the bill, he always gives you a little kiss to thank you for it. I hate that kiss. It's not a sensual kiss. It's like he's kissing the ATM that just paid for the meal or he's thanking his grandma for his annual $25 birthday check. That kiss can go fuck itself.

We really don't mind chipping in and treating a guy, but when he starts to expect it, well, that's some Brody from Mallrats type of shit. We think "What Would Brody Do?" and if the guy is exhibiting any of his behaviors--playing video games incessantly, not introducing us to his family, giving the stinkpalm to adults, and/or being an overall deadbeat--well, it makes us consider dating a Fashionable Male employee and wearing a Degrassi bomber jacket, too. Snoochie boochies (what does that even mean?)

What phrases would you like to stab? Email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com and vent.

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Bonerkiller: Dramatic Internet Quitters

Let me guess: you're quitting the Internet. Again. First, you gave the finger to Friendster. I remember you wrote a lengthy bulletin about how you were going to delete your profile because you were sick of everyone all up in your business. Groan. 

Then, I remember when you quit MySpace and wrote another lengthy bulletin about how the whole site was a waste of your time. I barely noticed when my friend count clicked down a notch, but I guess I was happy to know it was from your hissy fit and not because I bummed someone out.

And, then you took your Flickr page down because you didn't like strangers leafing through your photos. So, now that you've decided to quit Facebook in a huff, I can't say that I'm surprised.

Despite your expressed desire to be off-the-grid, you keep popping back onto the grid every 8 months. Which is fine, whatever, but I don't wanna read your mini-breakdowns every time you decide that you lose interest. Frankly, you are not good at quitting the Internet. It's like if i told a guy, "I'm not going to talk to you anymore." Don't tell him that! Just stop talking to him! I figured that one out in sixth grade.

So, all you Internet quitters out there, get stuffed. Hearing about your disinterest in the World Wide Web and reading your stupid missives about how you're sick of wasting your time on a site is about as exciting as watching this season of Entourage, i.e. not very.

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Attn. Coattail Riders: Come To Varsity Tryouts This Sunday Night For Zero Dollars

Let FREEdom ring. America the FREE. Gas, grass, or ass, no one rides for FREE. FREE love on the FREElove freeway. FREE mustache rides. FREE Winona. FREE FREE FREE!

This Sunday we will be guest judges for Varsity Tryouts, a monthly amateur pole dancing contest at Cheerleaders in South Philly. This party is insanely fun. Please come! It'll be like an entire panel of Paula Abduls.

If you wanna go, please email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com with your first and last name and we'll put you on the guest list FOR FREE! Just make sure to get all guest list requests in to us by 5pm on Saturday, Sept. 19th and you can hoot and holler it up with us for FREE. Did we mention that it'll be free for you?

Ride our coattails. Get in on this. Raid the mini-bar.* Make it rain. Bring your friends. Do it.




*Ok, there won't be a mini-bar. There will be a regular-sized bar with drink specials. I got a little carried away there for a second thinking I was in a remix of an R. Kelly song or something. As a warning, this is the kind of mentality we'll have on Sunday night. That was just a preview.

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Bonerkiller: You Have "Life Is A Highway" On Your iPod

Sure, I'll pick out some music to listen to while you drive me home. Lemme see your iPod.

*scrolls through the music. Sees "Life is a Highway" by that scratchy-voiced Canadian bastard, Tom Cochrane*

Really, you can just drop me off here at the corner. Yeah, right up here by the fire hydrant is great. No, you don't need to fully stop the car; I'll just roll out onto this busy city street. Yes, I'm positive. No, really, I insist. Ok. Thanks for dinner! I had a great time. Haha. Ok. Bye. Goodnight!

*tumbles onto the concrete and bolts the fuck home*

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Pics and Vids: Videomating Ritual

Is this how adults hooked up before the Internet existed? This montage of '80s dating video submissions from a service called Videomate completely blew our minds. Hearing these men talk about themselves and why you should date them is downright nutty. It's like they're competing with each to see who could make you cringe the hardest. I can't even believe that I am attracted to the male species after watching this. This video is a species-ruiner. There are too many amazing quotes in here to pick only one. Just watch.

Would you date any of these guys? I don't know. The one who wore the viking costume seems like a good time.

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Have You Signed Up Yet?

HUGE props to Rachel for designing this flyer. Check out her jewelry on Etsy here.

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Tip Our Hats: Hand Graspers

There was always some climactic scene in every '80s movie where the main dude grabs the girl's hand and they sprint somewhere. Dirty Dancing, Teen Wolf, Dream A Little Dream, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Ferris Bueller; the list goes on. Maybe they're fleeing a bully, maybe they're fleeing their principal, maybe they're about to switch bodies and have to leave the school prom before the old man wakes up. Who knows? But, they have to scoot--fast!

These movies made a huge impression on me growing up. Consequently, I've always wanted a man to turn to me with panic in his eyes, grab my hand, zip through the crowd, and shoot out through the doors of a high school gymnasium. Or a resort for old people. Really, I'm not picky.

The problem: I can't really think of too many scenarios in my adult life where this would happen. I feel cheated. I feel robbed. Where are these hand graspers? Do I need to take out a craigslist ad for this? I can see the headline now: "Single Female Seeking Single Male To Grab My Hand And Run Somewhere. Must provide own transportation and you will not be compensated for your time."

I think a guy only grabbed my hand once and it was because I was about to puke and he tried to usher me off the dance floor. It was more of a practical hand grab, not a romantic one. I didn't feel the wind in my hair. I didn't breathlessly push past my peers and feel him tugging me into the night air. That puke-deterring hand grab doesn't count.

So, hand graspers of America, we salute you. I'm not sure if you're out there and/or if we'll ever meet, but I'm keeping the dream alive.

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Tip Our Hats: Guys Who Have Nice-Smelling Shirts

Creepy girl confession: One of my favorite things about life is going in to a hug a guy I like and smelling his clean, crisp t-shirt. When I get a nostril-full and it smells like skipping through an Irish meadow on a spring day, I wanna high-five myself, high-five him, and high-five his washing machine and dryer.

I don't know if he washes his laundry with crack or what (does crack even smell good?) but I cannot get enough. And, just knowing that his shirt is going to be in my life for the next 2 to 12 hours--if it goes well--puts a pep in my step. Let's put it like this, if a guy's shirt smells like a lily pad on prom night, then I'm gonna keep him around as long as possible.

On the flipside, if a guy has terrible-smelling clothes and I'm bitchslapped by his B.O. when I go in for a hug, I don't care how extensive his record collection is, how many funny videos he forwards me while he's at work, or how well-regarded he is by his peers, he has a zero percent chance of making it past a third date. Them's the breaks! It's "clean shirt or bust" up in here.

There have been a few rare occasions when a boy smells like nothing and that really throws me off my game. I'll be in his closet sniffing his sweaters when he leaves the room to pee. I'm like Scully rifling through his X-Files. Why doesn't this guy smell like anything? Is he a robot? Is he ghost? Am I on a date with Powder? I get all existential about it. If his shirt doesn't smell like anything while it's on his body, was the shirt even on?

So, guys who's t-shirts smell good, we tip our hats to you. I wanna package your shirt's scent and pop it in the wall as my air freshener. I wanna snuggle up in your armpit and hang out for a little while. Maybe build a pillow fort with your shirt as the roof. Maybe just lay around and finish a crossword puzzle, stopping every few minutes when I'm trying to think of a word to roll over and catch a whiff. It's my catnip and I'm counting down the minutes until I can get another hit.

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Little Known Fact: I Can Type And Apply Mascara At The Same Time

As anyone who has glanced at this site briefly for the past few weeks should know, tonight is our first Mix Tape Speed Dating party. A huge thanks to everyone that's pre-registered and offered their suggestions for songs.

Big ups to the Weekly and the City Paper for giving us love. Thanks to everyone that's emailed and tweeted and facebooked about it. We really appreciate it!

If you are around, stop by the Khyber around 7pm tonight to see what the fuss is about. The first round starts at 7:45pm and we go til about 9:30pm. It's free to hang out, it only costs money to participate. You have any questions about it, refer to the FAQs. If you can't make it tonight, don't sweat it because we'll be throwing three more.

Ok. I have my favorite dress on and I have my iPod loaded up with your favorite '90s Alternative jamz (whatever that means). Apparently, I can NOT put on tights and type at the same time so I have to scoot. Hope to see y'all tonight!

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Quick Rant: I Think You Must Be Allergic To Impressing Me

You know how people say to put your best foot foward when meeting someone new? Well, you seem to take delight in putting your worst foot right into my face.

I'm not sure if you've ever watched the genius show, "The Pick-Up Artist," but Mystery would have a lot to say about your approach. I can just picture him in a remote location watching you through a monitor, making quips to J-Dog and Matador about your severe crash and burn.

To use their terminology, you are tossing out demonstrations of lower value (DLV) all OVER THE PLACE! Listening to you talk about yourself, I'm getting hit with DLV shrapnel. It's like Saving Private Ryan but with your terrible, unflattering stories instead of bullets. So, your ex changed her phone number because she didn't want to hear from you anymore? Your brother just got put in jail? You car is impounded because you don't have car insurance? WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME ANY OF THESE THINGS WHEN WE JUST MET?

I'm honestly beginning to think that you must be allergic to impressing me. Maybe that's your "thing," to just let it all hang out, warts and all. Maybe you tell yourself, "if a girl is gonna love me, she has to love all of me. I ain't gonna change myself for her or for anybody." It's times like this that I wish I had a mini pocket gong that I could take out of my purse. You know why? Because I would gong you.

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Unearthed: A Break-up Letter I Received In College

Some background about this letter: I met this awkward Romeo at a party in my friend's dorm room. He was my buddy's upstairs neighbor and we were both sophomores in college. He was a filmmaker, which impressed me. He also wore glasses, which I liked. We hit it off immediately. We went back to his place (upstairs) where he promised to take me to film festivals. In turn, I promised to take him to punk shows. We kissed about that. Then, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Ecstatically, I said yes. I ran into him at my friend's dorm room the next day and he gave me this letter handwritten on his personal stationary:

Dear Anna,

Thank you for being a friend to me. I'm a better person for now knowing you. This letter is my attempt at letting you know how I feel about you, myself, and my position in the cosmos. When I asked you if you would by my girlfriend, I was asking in an honest and completely well-intended way. At that moment, being there for each other seemed like the best idea in the world.

Now, I feel uncomfortable being anyone's boyfriend. [Ed. note- This was literally 24 hours after he asked me and before we even had a proper date!] While monogamy does not scare me, commitment and the relationship aspect of boy and girlfriend status do. [Ed. note- Then why did he even ask me to be his girlfriend in the first place?]

I hope you understand that I cannot be your boyfriend but, and I hope this honest letter fosters it, I can be your friend. And I want to be your friend. So punk shows and indie film festivals, here we come. Please write or call back with your feelings and/or thoughts. I want what is best for both of us.

Take care,
Homeboy
212-555-1234
123 Carmen Hall.
1000 Amsterdam Ave.
NY, NY 10027
email@college.edu

A few notes:

1. After laughing in his face, I reassured him that we didn't need to be in a relationship. I asked if he just wanted to hang out and date. He said no. I stopped laughing. Then, I just frowned.
2. He had to invoke the cosmos? Really?
3. He included ALL of his contact information in the break up letter. Keep in mind, I knew exactly where he lived; exactly one floor above my friend. What, was I gonna send him a postcard? A cookie bouquet? Why on earth did I need his address?
4. The main questions here are why did he ask me to be his girlfriend if he didn't want one in the first place? And, was he just carrying this letter around campus in case he happened to bump into me? Was he breaking up with a bunch of girls with my name so he made sure to always have one on his person? So weird!
   

Epilogue:
Despite his plea to maintain a friendship in the letter, he went out of his way to avoid interacting with me for close to three years, which sucked because we had a ton of friends in common. After college, when we all loosened up in our little ways, I ran into him at my friend's house. He seemed happy to see me so I confronted him about why he was such a freak. "Anna, I have to say, I was terrified of women in college. I really had no idea what the hell I was doing. I'm sorry."

With that, all awkwardness evaporated. We hugged. And laughed about it. I told him I still have his break up letter and he blushed very hard. He still makes films and is one of the funniest people I've met. We danced together at my friend's wedding two years ago. And, I think he follows me on Twitter now.

The end.

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I Wanna Know What Speed Dating Is/ And, I Want You To Show Me

So, our first Mix Tape Speed Dating event is tomorrow. As you can imagine, we are unbelievably excited. For those of you who are curious about how it's all going to go down, we've assembled a list of FAQs.

Wanna know what time to get there? Wanna know if you can bring a friend who just wants to hang out but not participate? Want to know what kind of people are attending? Want to know what to wear? Click below, where we answer all of your burning questions:

Mix Tape Speed Dating FAQs

Still have a question? Leave it in the comments section or email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com.

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Bonerkiller: Men Who Dye Their Hair Black. Still.

You are a man that dyes his hair black. Do you really go to your adult job with that flat black shoepolish late-nineties hardcore "I hang out at the Killtime" hair? Your light brown roots are showing through at the scalp and, well, they make you look like you're balding. You're 30, isn't that look what you're actively trying to avoid? It's even more offensive if those brittle locks have been hit with a flat iron and some type of Garnier product.

Oh great. Now, I'm visualizing you in your bathroom with flimsy rubber gloves on, carefully applying this goop to your head. I can't stop! I'm picturing you clad in a crusty old shirt (in case any of the hair dye spills) with the nozzle to your head, working it in section by section. Now I'm picturing you snapping off the rubber gloves when you're done and setting the timer on your watch for the requisite 15 minutes until you can rinse. Isn't there anything else to read on this train? Why am I still thinking about this?

Here's my unsolicited advice for the day: Step away from the Feria box and let that freedom hair flow in the breeze. And, for fuck's sake, please go back to that soft natural color Mother Nature gave you.

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Bonerkiller: You're A Total Flake

When we first met, I wasn’t the least bit interested. In fact, you barely registered as a blip on my Dude-dar. But, one day everything changed. You sent me signals I couldn’t ignore. You got a hold of me and I was hooked. I was super surprised at how eagerly I screeched, “YES!” when you asked me out on a date. I don’t know how you did it, but you somehow convinced me that I’d be doing the world an injustice if I turned you down.

So, imagine my disappointment when you canceled. One time is no big deal, stuff happens, sure. But when it started to happen more frequently, I realized that this "date" may just be a myth. You must not have asked me out, you must have been pretending to ask me out because you’re flaking on me like dandruff off a teenage Dungeons & Dragons enthusiast. You’re constantly making and breaking plans with me, and I'm tricked by your eagerness to reschedule every time.

Now that I am determined to hang out with you, your extreme signs of interest are beginning to dissipate. What was once near hot and heavy is now cool and casual. "I’m not gonna give up," I tell myself, "oh no, not this time." Your unattainability is now a personal challenge. I'm like Wayne Campbell marveling at that white guitar in the store window: "You will be mine. Oh yes. One day, you will be mine."

I blast you with charm and come-hither stares and you send back an order of “Wassup” with a side of a fist pound. I am jumping through hoops for a crumb of your attention. Not only am I beginning to feel like a texting maniac, I now know your number by heart from staring at it so much.

Listen, buddy, I am going to great lengths to finish something that you started! Damn son, you are making me work and you’re giving me zilch in return. Around the one hundredth time you “forget” to call/get out of work too late/ aren’t feeling well/ have a buddy in town/ (insert lame-o excuse here), I realize it might be best if our those plans we had stay hypothetical. Hanging out with you doesn’t seem worth it. Maybe you never even wanted my company in the first place. Maybe you celebrate April Fool’s Day every day. Who knows? You’ve lost your chance, Mr. Flaky McFlakerson. Unfortunately for you, playing too hard to get just got you nada.

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Summer Mix Series Volume Four: Alexis's "End of Summer Fling Mix"

Our buddy Alexis from Popped! was sweet enough to put together this darling little mix just in time to kiss summer goodbye. On the mouth. With tongue.

Click on the cassette tape to download it or just click here. Oh Summer, we already miss you and you haven't even left yet.

Track listing:

1. Baby its You - Shirelles
2. Baby - Gal Costa
3. Tell Her No - The Zombies
4. Hey Boy - The Blow
5. Master of None - Beach House
6. West Coast - Coconut Records
7. Sad Song-Pacific - Au Revoir Simone
8. Make Her Mine - Mayer Hawthorne
9. Wrestlers - Hot Chip
10. Toxic - Yael Naïm
11. Mr. Postman - Lil' Wayne
12. Baby Love - Supremes
13. Just Ain't Gonna Work Out - Mayer Hawthorne
14. Be My Baby - Ronettes

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Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Will Abuse Our Friendship To Win Internet Contests

Okay, so I know I've only been here a short while and I haven't quite earned my keep. However, I figured since I spend most of my time on this site convincing people why I'm a bad person, I thought this would fit quite nicely.

A few weeks ago, I entered a local photo contest run by the Richmond transit authority to win a free iPhone. As it turns out, only four people entered the contest. Pretty good odds, right?

Voting ends at midnight and I'm neck and neck with one other contestant.

I thought I would try and harness the power of Shmitten Kitten to help put me back in the lead.

As we all know, everyone loves iPhones. If I'm a cool dude with an iPhone, that will surely help in landing me a girlfriend, thereby providing myself with more opportunities to be a bad boyfriend, creating more blog content, and ultimately making the world a better place.

All you need to vote is a valid e-mail address. And I promise no one's gonna spam you. I know the guy in the marketing department running this contest, and more importantly, I know where he lives.

Vote. Do something awesome on a Friday. Help me be a winner. Click on this link to vote:

http://transittalk.com/index.php/contest/

Operators are standing by: (When I say operators, I mean the Internet.)

[Update: Phil has won the contest and is now the proud owner of a new iPhone. Thanks for your help!]

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Reader Submitted: Speed Dating Staring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullcock

Wow! This is awesome. Well done, Michelangelo. Well done.

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Have You Signed Up Yet?

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: His Flat Pillows

I didn't realize his apartment was B.Y.O.P. (Bring Your Own Pillow.) The lump of cotton he tossed me was more like a thick napkin then the kind of fluffy, luxurious bedding I usually associate with the word, "pillow." I have to fold it over and bunch it just to prop my head up. This is horrible! How can he sleep on this thing? It's like resting on Olive Oyl's bony knee.

I won't even get into this sorry excuse for a pillow case. It looks (and smells) like an onion ring wrapped in sweatpants and buried under a couch cushion. Is that a cigarette burn on it? He wants me to put my face on this dingy scrap of fabric?

It's basically how a girl looks when she does a walk of shame: gnarly, funky, and unfit for public viewing. Yes, his pillow is like sleeping on a girl doing her walk of shame. And, that just makes me sad.

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Bonerkiller: The Higher Her Internal Thermostat, The Lower My Interest

So the past few days were the first days in months where the summer heat broke and the first taste of fall appeared on the horizon. We're talking nice 70 degree weather with a slight breeze. It’s been absolutely heavenly. With temperatures soaring into the 90s the past few weeks, it was particularly miserable, so I am seriously loving life and already imagining scenarios in which I could possibly wear a hoodie at night. Did I mention that I love the fall?

However, I’ve had no fewer than three girls at work tell me they think it’s too cold and that they miss the heat.

What?!

WHAT?!?!

Now, of course, all of these girls are unavailable anyway, but--hypothetically speaking--if they were potential dating partners, I’d have to go out on a limb and say that this temperature discrepancy thing is a total bonerkiller.

It’s not like my other dealbreakers, where it has to do with personality or character; this is purely biological. For some reason, they’re comfortable at a temperature that makes me absolutely miserable. Think of all the logistical nightmares that could cause: I’ve got the air-conditioning on full blast and they’re sitting in the passenger seat shivering and wanting to die. Or, god help me, the opposite scenario where I’m sweating and miserable in a hot car and they don’t even notice.

This is perhaps most evident when I tell people I’m traveling to Iceland in the fall. People with the higher internal thermostat look at me like I’m a little crazy. “Aren’t you going to be freezing?” they ask. And I want to reply, “EXACTLY.”

The idea of a vacation where I sit on a beach all day does sound fun, but I had better have an ice-cold drink in hand and I am going to be taking regular trips to the ocean to cool down. Otherwise, it's a no-go.

To all the girls with the higher internal thermostats, I’m afraid it’s just not going to happen. Your aversion to autumn is a bonerkiller. Unless you love wearing sweaters, then maybe we could work something out.

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As A Head's Up, Here Are Some Dates That I Don't Want To Go On

Listen, it's really sweet that you want to take me out. But, the places you're suggesting we go to are downright fucktarded. Just so we are clear, I do not want to go on the following dates with you:

• To a NASCAR race. I'm sure it could be fun if we went ironically and made fun of the other attendees, but from what I can gather you seem to genuinely enjoy this "sport." Not to be a brat, but I have about zero percent interest in going to this. If this makes me less fun in your eyes, so be it. And when you told me that I should keep an open mind and go with you, I resented it. If opening my mind means going to NASCAR races and fraternizing with mullets in wrap-around shades, then I'm totally happy to be myopic.
  

• To a Jimmy Buffet concert. Um, this is never gonna happen. I don't care how nicely you ask, I will not let you take me to Margaritaville. I don't even feel like I need to explain this to you. Just the fact that you suggested this as a date option makes me depressed. When you asked me why it made me depressed, well, that just made me more depressed.
  

• To KFC. Going to KFC for dinner is not a date. I didn't put on mascara for this. I'm not a snob by any means and no one enjoys a value more than me, but a fast food date at this stage in the game is not only bizarre, but sad. Besides, I only go to fast food restaurants when I'm either on a road trip or am PMS-ing. Just lettin' you know.
  

• To a surprise party at a reptile house. Ok, no one has ever seriously proposed this as a date suggestion, but just so we are all on the same page, I would never go on a date here since I have a reptile phobia. I probably would have a heart attack and die. In essence, this would be a date with death.
  

What's the worst date someone has proposed to you? Leave 'em in the comments.

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Unscientific Poll: The Erase Case

There was no big fight, no big shouting match. Maybe we didn't click or we both lost interest. Who knows? It just fizzled. So, when's the best time to go ahead and delete his contact info from your phone? I can never tell!

I'm having trouble with this because I don't want to inadvertently answer incoming calls from dud dudes. I also don't want to be confronted with the fact that I've deleted a guy's number when he texts me, "Hey" and I write back, "Who is this?" It's not the biggest deal in the world, but I'm curious if there's a standard.

Consequently, I have a backlog of random numbers in my phone of people that I don't call and don't want to talk to. It's like having a closet full of sweaters that I don't want to wear. What do you guys think? Is it just me? Is your phone one big Do Not Call Registry?

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: One-Ply Toilet Paper

Few things make me as distraught as encountering one-ply tissue paper in a dude's bathroom. Not to be too dramatic, but that flimsy toilet paper makes me reconsider all of my life's choices. I work myself into a tizzy as my mind races to answer the question, "What missteps have I made that have led me to this inferior ply?"

What if I had run for school president in high school? Do high school presidents wipe with one-ply? I don't think so! I should've worked harder in that statistics class junior year of college. It would've raised my GPA and--who knows?--maybe I would've snagged a better job. What if I'd gone for my MBA? Do MBA grads use one-ply? Hell no!

If I had gone for my MBA degree, I'd probably be dating a real man who has hobbies like rock climbing or windsurfing. He's cultured; he probably enjoys sipping loose teas from exotic locales. And, I'll bet you ten bucks that he has a super-sized roll of Cottonelle (with aloe!) in his bathroom. Or, maybe he as some NASA-developed toilet paper unavailable to the mass market that's made with 10% cashmere and 5% kitten hair. Maybe he even has a heated toilet seat! Who knows what kind of toilet treats I'm missing out on?

Instead, I get to date guys that live in South Philly flophouses, drink budget beers, and can only afford one-ply toilet paper. I'm pretty sure prisoners get higher quality toilet paper than this. As a child, I pictured my adult self as an adult surrounded by plush TP. Where did it all go wrong? I've not only let myself down, but I've let my inner child down too.

By the time I get out of the bathroom, I have a dead look in my eye and I'm quoting Nietzsche. And that just makes me sad.

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Flippin' Our Shades: Brian James Kirk

Brian James Kirk flat out rocks. So, when we made a list of the rad Philly guys we flip our shades at, he was right at the top. As one of the founders of Technically Philly, he is making Philly a cooler, nerdier place. And, you know how much we love cool nerds.

We interrogated him about dating stuff in a confined cell under a lone, swinging light bulb. It was all very Law & Order-ish. I had to be restrained because I got a little riled up, but I think we broke him down and got the scoop.

SK: What do you like most about Philly girls?

I'm a little on edge answering these questions. Philly girls don't fall for bullshit. I dig that.

SK: What's your idea of a perfect Philly date?

Take-out sushi and mix-a-six beers at the park was a recent favorite. I'm a simple dude and admittedly unoriginal, but I make up for it in conversation; I promise.

SK: What do most guys do wrong?

Post missed connections for girls they should have approached.

SK: What do most girls do wrong?

Post missed connections for guys they should have approached.

SK: What would most girls be shocked to find out about guys?

Though mostly in jest, we are in awe of the Pickup Artist and GOB Bluth. We make fun of them, but at some fundamental psychological level, we wish we could approach girls with such ease. We consider taking up magic, illusions, striped shirts. The difference is that we just want to ask the cute girl with glasses for her phone number, not back to our place. Well, most of the time, anyway.

SK: Tell us a secret!

I sought out and watched Marley and Me alone and in pajamas, one of my weakest moments. I will not confirm or deny tears.

SK: Where's the most romantic place in philly?

Any block in the city with a view of the skyline, even if it's glimpsed through the guts of an abandoned lot blocked by barbed wire-topped fences. The fact that you can get that feeling on the El coming out of the tunnel up to Spring Garden always blows my mind. After stepping over the piss and garbage underground, how can you see that skyline and not feel the promise of something better?

SK: What would you put on a mix tape for a girl that you liked?

A Promise Ring tune. If she knew what it was, I'd be shmitten.

The Promise Ring! How cute! We'll drink two cherry cokes to that. Is there anyone you'd like to nominate for us to flip our shades at? Email us at hi@shmittenkitten.com and let us know why they'd be a good candidate.

[Previously: We Flipped Our Shades at filmmaker Joe Stakun]

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