Mix Masters: Jenna's Party At The Moontower Mix, Duuuude

I've been LOVING all the mixes we've been sharing recently and I'm especially excited to have you check this baby out. For all those summertime freedom lovers out there, this one's for you.

This mix is perfect for sitting around a campfire and catchin' a buzz off cheap beer with your best buds. Crank it up and let the good times roll. 

Click either here or on the picture of the tush to download. Yeah!

Track listing:

1. Sweet Emotion - Aerosmith
2. Jane - Jefferson Starship
3. Do You Know What I Mean - Lee Michaels
4. Do It Again - Steely Dan
5. I Been Born Again - The Phenomenal Handclap Band
6. Wheels Of Fortune - The Doobie Brothers
7. Dancing In The Moonlight - Thin Lizzy
8. Too Hot To Handle - UFO
9. The Wild One - Suzi Quatro
10. Waiting on the Bus - ZZ Top
11. Limb from limb - Motörhead
12. The Wizard - Black Sabbath
13. Night Train - Guns and Roses

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I Love Love Love That We Don't Listen To The The Exact Same Music

Replace the maps with iPhones. That's more like it.

My girlfriend and I just completed our first ever roadtrip together. We've done some small day trips before, but this was a straight-up full-day-of-driving-pack-some-sandwiches-in-the-cooler ROAD TRIP. We were crossin' state lines, y'all.

In order to circumvent some of my previously stated car stereo control issues, we agreed to switch off albums for the entirety of the 25+ hours of driving.

Let's just say I learned a lot. For instance, I learned that there's a TON more Oasis songs than the ones I heard on the radio back when I was a teenager. Also, for every obscure American band that I've never heard of, there's an equally obscure British band that I've DEFINITELY never heard of. What can I say? She likes Britpop.

That, of course, is exactly what made it awesome. Over the course of the whole trip, I think she only played two or three albums I'd previously heard. Our musical interests, while similar, overlap ever so perfectly in a way that I get to listen to a lot of new music but don't necessarily have to worry about her non-ironically breaking out a Nickelback record or anything.

In the past, I've dated girls where the pendulum swung way too far in either direction. In one relationship, the act of sharing a new musical discovery was totally lost because she'd usually already heard the band before; my mixtapes were rendered completely useless. Another past fling was totally the "I love everything but rap and country" type, which meant that she just listened to whatever came on the radio at any given moment. Girls like her make up for 97% of all Black Eyed Peas album sales.

I'm into the give and the take. Our musical Venn diagram leaves plenty of room for discovery and that's the best. Discovering somebody's favorite albums and sharing your own is all part of the fun.

So, tell me again: which one is Liam and which one is Noel?

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: Protein Shake Mix On Top Of His Fridge

From our reader Samantha, who is totally fucking grossed out by protein power shake mix on top of his fridge.

I live with a male roommate who's a nice guy but can't get a date. Today I found a bunch of Lean Body dietary supplement powder packets in our kitchen and I recoiled. What drives men to do drink/buy protein shake mix like this? Especially guys who are over 30, have a heavy reader's physique, and don't work out?

Does lifting the shake to his lips produce muscles overnight or make him feel more like a man? I can't stand when I go to a guy's place and see a giant jug of GNC's Man-POWER over his fridge. He really wants to display this so prominently? It's not something to boast about.

Not only should no guy ever be proud of this, but he should also hide it, like in a hole in the backyard.

Oh wow, this has never happened to me. Luckily, I date scrawny squirrels who probably couldn't carry that huge jug without assistance. And, if he was to roll it into his house somehow, he definitely couldn't plunk it on top of his fridge unless he devised an elaborate pulley system. He'd be hunched over the kitchen table with a protractor calculating angles and velocities and it just sounds like a big hassle.

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I Love Love Love Guys That Listen To The Descendents

I first heard the Descendents in high school. My friend Cara played me their "Somery" CD while we were hanging out in her bedroom. It was love at first listen. They were poppy, punky, goofy, and heartfelt, all at the same time. Here's what I learned right off the bat: they like coffee, food, and silly girls. And, they hate jocks, the suburbs, and dirty sheets. The singer's name is Milo. How cute is that? What's not to love about this band?

I still put "Cheer" on all the mix tapes I make and if I see that "Bikeage" is on the jukebox you can bet your bottom dollar that I'm gonna put it on. As soon as the notes blast through the speakers, it makes me feel like I'm 17 again.

I've already decided that I want to marry a guy who listens to the Descendents because in my experience, Descendents fans are basically edgy Boy Scouts. They:

• Are supersmart
• Have great jobs
• Are great with kids because they're total goofballs themselves
• Dress like '50s dads
• Wear cool glasses
• Are punctual
• Are sensitive (they never got the girl in high school so they identify with the underdog)

However, I'm not sure how I'd I go about finding one. They're all scene dropouts, which is cool but it makes them hard to come by. They don't party hard so I'm not going to magically run into one out at Making Time. I guess you just have to just stumble upon one, like a four-leaf clover or a pirated copy of the Wonder Years on DVD.

I love you, Descendents fans. You'll always have a coffee-mugged shaped place in my heart.

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Class Notes: Smashin' Fashion

I'm wearing this RIGHT NOW

Hey guys. A few things:

• Fashion Under $100 asked me what I'd wear if I had to pick 5 items under $50. Here's what I came up with: a cute dress, cute shoes, a cute purse, pretty perfume and a freakin' Slurpee. If this isn't summertime-tastic then I don't even know what. 

• In honor of someone asking me my opinion about something relating to fashion, I will be sporting this look today. Not gonna lie: It feels a little weird to see my outfit laid out on my computer screen like an autopsy. But, for anyone that was interested in visualizing what I was dressed in, BOOM! There you go. This is probably the first time I've ever told the truth about what I'm sporting because usually anytime a guy asks me to tell him what I'm wearing over phone/email/text, I lie and made it sound like I just got off an Agent Provocateur runway. Sorry to pull the curtain back a bit, boys, but c'mon! No one wears tiny tank tops during a snowstorm. Duh! That should've been your first clue. 

• Follow me on Twitter, if you aren't already. 

• Dig us on the ol' Facebook.

• Subscribe to the Shmitten Kitten newsletter. 

• Stay cool.
  

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I'd Pay Good American Money For This Service

"Dudes on Demand. How can I help you?"

"Yes, hi. I'd like to make an order for delivery?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Ok. Let's see. I'd like one order of Compliments. One order of Hand Holding. Hmmmm. One order of Couch Snuggling, small. No, you know what? Make that a large.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah, I'll have one order of Hot Makeout, extra spicy. And, I'll take one order of Unprompted Foot Massages. Actually, make that two. I'll have one for lunch tomorrow. That should be it. "

"Ok. Name?"

 "Shmitten Kitten. The buzzer's broken so just call when you get here."

"Ok. It should take about 45 minutes."

"Great! See you then! Oh, and if you could toss in a side of Thoughtful Text Messages Right Before I Go To Bed, that'd be great."

"You got it."

*click*

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Bonerkiller: Hairy Butt Patches

I'm gonna be honest here: I'm not a fan of a butt patch on a dude. I think it's gross. It's looks like Tom Selleck's chest slid down his spine and parked right over his crack. Ewwwww!

A few wisps of peach fuzz over there, sure I'll let it slide. But if you can braid his lower back hairs into a friendship bracelet, then I'm out.

It's like the Mona Lisa, I feel it's watching me wherever I go. I try to fake it out; I move quickly from one side of the room the next. No dice. It's still watching, peeking out from over his jeans like a hairy tramp stamp. To quote Hall and Oats, "I can't go for that/ no can do."

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Pics and Vids: If Leering At A Cartoon Is Wrong, Then I Don't Want To Be Right

I'm gonna enter this as Exhibts A through V as to why I am impressed with the worst things on the planet because I think it would be fucking awesome if a guy busted these moves out (preferably if he was karaokeing a David Lee Roth-era Van Halen song).

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See Here's The Thing: I Can't Figure Out Where He Gets His Clothes From

I'm at a dive bar and I'm staring at the guy I'm with. I study him. He's dressed in a thin plaid shirt and black pants. Honestly, his clothes are a mystery to me because I can't picture him ever buying these items. He definitely has a sense of style, I just have no idea how he goes about executing it.

Did he pop out of the womb wearing a raggedy, thin blue shirt and cords? His wardrobe is like a new Starbucks: you never see it under construction, it just magically appears like it's always been there.

I can't picture him walking into a store, dealing with salespeople, touching random shirts and buying them. And, I can't picture him leaving the store with shopping bags on his arm, like Paris Hilton leaving Louis Vuitton. He's not that kind of guy. In fact, I haven't seen him in one new garment the entire time we've dated.

We've been hanging out for a few months and I know his schedule pretty well. As far as I know, he's never stepped foot in a mall. Ever. I can't picture him taking the time to thumb through a thrift store. (He has a mild case of OCD so he'd freak out about the whole thing.)

He would never step foot in Urban Outfitters or American Apparel because he thinks they're too cheesy and overpriced. Maybe H&M on a lunch break here and there? Maybe his Mom buys his clothes at Target? Maybe his last girlfriend bought him everything he wears? Maybe he moved into his apartment and just tossed on the clothes the former tenant left behind? Who knows? I'm baffled!

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I Love Love Love Guys That Watch Party Down

I already knew that he was a cool guy (I could tell by his vintage Nike sneakers), so I was psyched for our first date. We were having a great time chomping down on our dinner. Then, out of nowhere, he says, "Are we having FUN yet??"

"Oh shiiiit! You watch Party Down?" I asked, delighted.

"Hell yeah!" he said.

When he rattled off his favorite lines, I smiled so wide that my cheeks started to ache. My eyebrows practically bounced of my forehead.

"Everybody go to the FUCK ROOM!" I said. He laughed so hard he almost spit out his wine through his nose.

Sir, it is a downright pleasure sharing this twelve dollar bottle of Cab Sav with you and trading our favorite plot points of the show. I can already tell that we're gonna get along just swimmingly. A++

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Things I'm Terrible At: Remembering Names

There are a ton of things that I'm terrible at, but remembering people's names is pretty much in the Top 3. It's the worst because people get SO OFFENDED that I can't keep names straight.

But, it has nothing to do with them; I can't remember anyone's names! It's not like I made a note in my day planner to forget a person's name. I've never had a conscious thought like: "Lucy can go get fucked because I just don't have enough room in my huge head to keep track of something as useless as her name."

Confession: I especially have a problem telling girls who are 5'7 with brown hair and glasses apart. They all look the same to me. They're all named Jen and they all having boring jobs. Or, at least, that's how it seems.

When it comes to guys, my memory gets hazy sometimes. I know that we've met. Somewhere. Maybe once. Possibly more. I'll squint my eyes. I'll cock my head to the side, studying his face. Yes, we've DEFINITELY met before. I think.

All of a sudden, I start talking like I'm a really bad psychic. "What's your name? No, don't tell me! I'm sensing an "r". Rob? Ryan? No, wait. Richa-"

He starts shaking his head no as I'm sounding out the word.

"Richa-ussel. Richussel. Russel. It's Russel, right?" I let out the stupidest smile as if to say, "Please don't hate me because I can't remember anything. Seriously, I'm terrible at it."

So, guys, go easy on me if I forget your name. I'll take some Ginkgo Biloba or something (no I won't.)

1 comments

Mix Masters: Phil's Summer Breeze Mix

I'm super stoked to share this with you guys. Our very own Phil put together a mix for y'all to laze your days away to. Rig up the ol' hammock, toss together a boozy cocktail and let the summer breezin' begin. Click here or on the image to download it.

Track listing:

1. Wild Nothing - Summer Holiday
2. Camera Obscura - The Sweetest Thing
3. Sleigh Bells - Rill Rill
4. Dirty Projectors - Temecula Sunrise
5. Hot Chip - Alley Cats
6. Francis & The Lights - Tap The Phone
7. Beach House - 10 Mile Stero
8. Metric - Help I'm Alive (The Twelves Remix)
9. SEAS - The Downtown Lights
10. The Cinnamon Band - Nobody But Me
11. Slowdive - Shine
12. Weezer - Holiday
13. Dolorean - Beachcomber Blues

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Surprisingly Not a Bonerkiller: Mild Body Odor On My Dude

From our reader Colleen, who doesn't mind gettin' a whiff of that funk, that sweet, that nasty, that gushy stuff. (Ew, I just grossed myself out a little bit. THANKS A LOT, RICK JAMES!):

Johnny Depp just LOOKS like BO

I once dated a guy who never had any body odor. Ever. Which is pretty weird, don't you think? It's kind of a like a guy who doesn't cast a shadow; clearly there's something missing from his soul, some element in the person that keeps him from getting BO and maybe also, I don't know, allows them to kill kittens without feeling remorse.

I won't deny it: I love a little bit of stink. I've been known to surreptitiously take a deep breath near my beau's pits, especially on steamy summer days. I love it is because every guy smells a little different. It's like his fingerprint.

Also, smells seem to evoke memories and emotions more than anything else. So picking up his unwashed t-shirt and inhaling his eau de parfum immediately whisks me away to memories of our first dates.

Once, a boyfriend of mine went away for a week but accidentally left a t-shirt he'd worn at my place. Instead of throwing it in the wash like I normally would, I put that puppy on every night for the rest of the week. And I won't lie, the first thing I did was put my nose all over it and take a deep breath. Ahhhhh.

I just googled "smelling an armpit" to find a photo for this. I wouldn't recommend doing that. Learn from my mistakes, people.

It's funny: I've been known to get pissed off if a guy doesn't smell like anything. How can both his body and clothes smell like nothing? Does he wash his clothes in baby tears? Is he a hologram? Are we on the holodeck on the Starship Enterprise? Is Whoopi Goldberg gonna serve me a drink at the Ten-Forward? SO MANY QUESTIONS!

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I Love Love Love Guys With Velcro Wallets

At the end of our first date, I went to take out my wallet when the bill came. (I never assume anything when the check comes.)

"No, please. I've got it," he said. He put his hand up as if he was saying, "Put that wallet away, lady. I'm taking care of you tonight."

I smiled. As I put my wallet back in my purse, he whipped his out from his back pocket. To my delight, he produced a raggedy cloth wallet. How unpretentious! How simple! It even made that tell-tale screeeeech sound as he pulled the velcro apart to dig out his cash. My heart did a cartwheel.

I'm sure he's had it forever. You can tell because it's slightly curved from years of clinging to his ass. It was like a worn-in baseball glove, totally molded to his body. He probably got it in Chinatown for $2. Thrifty AND stylish!

And, it was thin: cash, credit cards, and air THAT'S IT. No stray scraps of paper. No receipts. No Subway club cards. No expired lotto tickets. This baby was a lean mean wallet machine. If it was a police officer, it would probably say things like, "Just the facts, Ma'am" or "Move it along folks, nothing to see here." If this wallet drank coffee, it'd take it black. If it drank whiskey, it'd drink it neat. No frills, no fuss. I can respect that.

Bravo, my dear. Bravo.

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Boxerdropper: You Can Count On Me To Start The Dance Party

This is what I'm bringing to the table as a potential girlfriend: I will start a dance party with very little prompting. All I need is some good music and a slight alcohol buzz then before you can say the words "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough," I'm scooting around the dance floor like I'm auditioning for Dance Party USA.

I'll be boppin' and twirlin' away looking like I'm having the time of my life. You're welcome to join me or if you want to just hang out and nurse your drink 'til you get more of a buzz, that's cool too. I'll dance with one of my other friends until you're ready to join me. It's all good.

As a dance partner, I can assure you that I will have rhythm (thanks to my sixth-grade jazz class). I have some "smooth moves." You can mimic them if you run out of ideas; I don't mind. I guarantee that I won't do that thing where I try to do jokey dances like the Cabbage Patch or the Roger Rabbit. Hell no.

And, I won't make you dance formally to fast songs. I HATE WHEN PEOPLE DO THAT. Finally, if it's a song that we both don't know, we don't have to dance. We can go to the bar and get another beer.

Not to toot my own horn here, but it will be a pleasure going to a dance party with me. I'm just lettin' you know.

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I Love Love Love Winkers

From our honegirl, Colleen, who appreciates a good wink. I said WINK, not wank, you dirty birds.

My usual walk down the West Philly streets to work consists of looking as incognito as possible: my face is shielded behind a pair of large sun-specs, I walk as fast as the wind like I have somewhere urgent to be, and I have a face as serious as a funeral. These measures are all in an effort to avoid the embarrassment of being hit on by some of the less savory characters who frequent the sidewalks near my employer. Sorry, there'ss nothing flattering about a gentleman with track marks and crotch stains asking you if you have a boyfriend.

About a week ago, I was doing my intense, laser-like walk down the sidewalk when my eyes briefly landed on a man sitting in a PennDot truck. He winked and flashed me a smile. I continued my trot, but started to feel a smile of my own creep up on my face.

I was just winked at! In a world where women are accosted in sometimes outrageous and rude ways just to get attention by strangers who want God-knows-what, it was a sweet and gentle gesture. With one wink, this guy communicated to me, "Hey, pretty lady! You're lookin' good!" without so much as a word (and more importantly, without skeeving me out.)

So guys, take a moment to reintroduce the wink into your repertoire. If done right, it will get your point across perfectly.

Actually, I'm usually the one that does the winking. It's cute to watch him react; he looks like he just found a five dollar bill on the ground.

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: His Shower Curtain

This shower curtain in his bathroom is probably one of the most gruesome things in his house. It looks like a crime scene: It's stained, torn, and somehow rusted. HOW DOES PLASTIC RUST? The metal hooks on top of it are all scraggly, like old cavities. What did he do to it?

There isn't a liner, just a thick plastic sheet that looks like it's been in his house since the Nixon administration. It used to be white but now it's a yellowish-brown shade that could described as "heavy smoker's teeth."

Shower curtains are, like, a dollar. Can't he just grab a new one? Should I get one for him? Would that be weird? Are we even in that stage where I can buy him stuff like shower curtains for his house? I don't want to touch the thing because it's slimy and it smells like moldy armpits. I have no idea what kind of toxic stew is growing on it.

Something about it just looks unsettling. If it applied to be in the army, it'd be rejected for being mentally unfit for service. If this shower curtain took the bus, people wouldn't sit within two rows of it. If it added you as a friend on Facebook, you'd ignore it, block it and hope that it forgot that it added you so it wouldn't ask you about it the next time you ran into it on the street. And, that just makes me sad.

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See Here's The Thing: He Spent All Of His Money On Dumb Shit

Honestly, I don't care if my honey ain't got no money. I don't care if he turns his pockets inside out and frowns like a hobo down on his luck. I don't even care if he has to break his piggy bank open with a sledgehammer to buy a package of Ramen noodles. WHATEVER!

However, I DO have a problem if he does have money but just spends all of it on dumb shit he can't really afford. He'll show off his new extravagant purchase then in the same breath lament that he's all "tapped out" and can't afford to grab a slice of pizza for dinner.

It's like he has no self-control when it comes to buying toys. When he can't pay his rent but he's bragging about his new Xbox, shit ain't right. When he can't afford to go on a quick getaway with me for the weekend, but can buy yet ANOTHER monitor for his computer, it makes me get those squiggly lines of frustration like I'm an angry cartoon.

I don't care what he does with his money, but it affects me because he's needlessly broke all the time. At first, I'll try to accommodate it and suggest we go on some low-cost dates but there are only so many times I can eat take out from Taco Bell then sit in a park. Somehow I'll end up paying for us to go to nicer places (which he can't afford because he just upgraded his iPhone so he's broke until his next paycheck.)

He doesn't need to have an Excel spreadsheet with all of his purchases for the month, but a little money management would go a long way. That's all I'm saying.

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More Than A Feeling: I'm In Boston!

I'm in Boston for the next few days visiting my sister. On the to do list:

• say the word "wicked" a lot
  
• re-enact scenes from Good Will Hunting and reassure someone that "It's not [their] fault" repeatedly
  
• Have an impromptu street jam like in Extreme's video for "Hole Hearted" 

I'm looking forward to oogling boys on the T (especially the dirty, young punk ones.) They walk past me with their raggedy black jeans and messy hair and "Do I look like I give a fuck?" attitude and I'm basically like this:

hummina hummina

I just wanna pinch his sullen cheeks! I'll bet this guy knows where all the best house parties are and smells like a wooden plank. I'd also bet up to ten dollars that he'd take me to his favorite vegetarian restaurant then to an art opening his friend was having on our first date. We'd hold hands! He'd show me his sketch journal or maybe play me his band's demo. It'd be SO CUTE!

I usually consider ditching my plans, spinning on my heels and following him to wherever he's going like Alice in Wonderland, but I feel like there might be some laws against that. I just imagine him going back to his drafty house with his ten roommates and his refrigerator full of rotten hummus and I keep walking. But, it's nice to dream.

Boston, let's do this!

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Quick Rant: Please Don't Ruin This Otherwise Smooth Financial Transaction By Hitting On Me

Hey, how YOU doin'?

For the past few months, I've enjoyed a friendly relationship with the coffee shop employee by my house. He looks like a shaggy version of Aladdin: thick black hair, beard stubble and big brown eyes. I really have no clue how old he is. Maybe he's in his mid-20s, if I had to guess. But, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that he has a kid that's a teenager. Who knows.

We have this thing where he says, "How are you?" Then I reply, "Great! How are you?" He counters with, "Good. How are you?" My smile evaporates then I say, slightly concerned, "We've already covered this, right?"

I swear, that happens every time I see him. He asks me how I'm doing TWICE. I can't tell if he's kidding or if he just loses track of our conversation easily. And, he's a low-talking mumbler so I can barely hear what else he says after our initial hellos. I just nod and smile at whatever he goes on about. I wait until he stops talking then say, "Have a great day!"

Well, yesterday he RUINED our schtick by deviating from the script and asking if I had a boyfriend. I wasn't sure what to say. I pretended I didn't hear him. So, he asked again. "Do you have a boyfriend?" (He must have a PhD in asking shit more than once.)

In a strange twist, I became the mumbler! I mumbled something about, "Who knows what I do?" Then I nervously laughed. It was a total non-answer to his very pointed question. I scooped up my coffee cup and told him to have a nice day.

Frankly, I wasn't interested in taking our customer/ coffee pourer relationship any further. I couldn't imagine going on a date with him. He'd just ask me how I was a dozen times then he'd mumble and then I'd nod, agreeing to God knows what. Maybe I'd agree that PCs are better than Macs. Maybe I'd agree to cancel my Netflix and start renting movies at Blockbuster. Maybe I'd accept a marriage proposal unwittingly! Who knows?

I liked how things were; I liked chatting with him for up to two minutes on a semi-weekly basis. That was our thing. UGH! Why'd he have to ruin it by putting me on the spot and asking about my personal life? I probably sound bitchy, but you girls out there can relate, right?

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I Love Love Love Guys In Cuffed Dark Jeans

When I see a hot dude cuff his dark jeans, I have to sit down and breathe into a brown paper bag to calm myself down because I usually hyperventilate. It's probably the hottest thing a guy can do besides dress up like Marty McFly for Halloween.

It's a dash of Rebel Without A Cause mixed with a splash of rockabilly and dredged in a bag of scooter enthusiast.

I want to do things to/with him. I want to slow dance with him in his kitchen. I want to sit behind him when we take his scooter out for a spin. I'd wind my arms around his waist and then I'd squeeze his thigh and then I'd...I need that paper bag again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Yeah. *gasping for air* I like this look. Breathe in. Breathe out. *gasping for air* A LOT.

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Bonerkiller: Road Ragers

Why, I oughta!!!!!

After a leisurely night out, he whisks me to his car to head home for the evening. He even opens the door for me and makes sure that I'm seated safely. "This is perfect." I think. "What a gentleman!"

We pull out into the street and a taxi cab cuts us off. My dude slams on the breaks. Phew, close call. But immediately, it's like the HULK has taken over his body. He grips the steering wheel and his eyes start to bulge and twitch. I swear I can see the veins popping out of his forehead.

"Motherf%#@ing asshole!!!" he screams as he proceeds to peel out and storm down 2nd Street like a bat outta hell. He's accelerating rapidly, trying to catch up with the cabbie. 

"Stop!! What are you doing!?!" I shriek.

"That cabbie cut me off!" he snaps, with a wild look in his eyes. "Fuck him!"

Um, that's what cabbies in the city DO. Get used to it. We just flew by like five pedestrian couples who had to yank each other back on the sidewalk because they were scared of your insane driving. Honestly, I'd rather be on their date than this one. At least they are (presumably) with more level-headed citizens. I have a damn wild man on my hands now.

Just ease off the gas, buddy. No one needs to see your white-knuckle grip on a steering wheel at this stage in the game. The dress I'm wearing looks much better sans blood and I'd like to get home from this otherwise lovely date in one piece. I'm precious cargo, dammit!

He doesn't have to drive like a sleepy grandma, but a few notches below a pissed-off cage fighter would do a lot for me. 

3 Comments

Things I'm Terrible At: Hovering

I'm leaning against the wall, swizzling the straw around my drink, and trying not to make it super-obvious that I wanna talk to this guy. Here is my internal dialogue:

"Should I say hi? He seems busy. Wait, he's talking to someone. Oh God, I must look like a creep-a-leep just hovering around here.

*sips drink*

"We just made eye contact! Should I wait for him to come over? Maybe I should approach him? Fuck it. This is it. I'm just gonna walk up and say hi."

*stands up, straightens dress, and walks towards him*

"Oh shit. Now he's talking to some other girl. This is the worst. That's it; I'm leaving."

Frankly, I'm terrible at hovering. I would rather shake hands with a poisonous snake than hover around a guy I wanna talk to. Besides, there's no way to look good when you're calculating a window of opportunity to initiate conversation. I look anxious, like a teenybopper in line at a Jonas Brothers meet and greet or Janeane Garofalo awaiting her STD test results in Reality Bites.

I'd rather cut my losses than buzz around a dude like a chatty gnat. Fuck that shit forever.

5 Comments

I Love Love Love Nicknamers

From our reader Steph(anie), who likes it when a guy takes control and abbreviates her name:

I love it when a guy feels comfortable enough to call me by my nickname. When I introduce myself to a new dude, I usually say some variation of, "Oh, hi! I'm Stephanie. Nice to meet you." But I love it when right away, he feels that he can call me Steph.

We'll enjoy a fun evening out with our mutual friends and before the night's over we'll exchange info. Even after we've known each other for a while, I still sign my emails to him as "-Stephanie." And I love it when he replies, "Hey Steph."

Did I give him permission to call me Steph? No! Only my nearest and dearest friends call me that. But if he's ballsy enough to drop the Steph-bomb, I'll go with it. It lets me know that he's confident and he feels comfortable with me; all good things in my book.

Now, if he starts calling me Stephie, then we'll have a problem.

This happened to me the other week when I met a guy and he started calling me "Anna Banana" right off the bat. I felt closer to him as soon as he said it because that's my nickname with my friends. It piqued my interest, shall we say.

On a side note, "Anna Banana" is also my Garbage Pail Kid name. See?

In an irony of ironies, I hate bananas

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Mix Masters: Lightning Girl's Rock*Candy Mix

I don't know about you, but I've been LOVING the mixes that we've posted from our pals. If you haven't checked them out, please do. And, if any of the links have expired, let me know and I'll post a new one.

With that said, it brings me great pleasure to post this one from my homegirl Tracy Wilson aka Lightning's Girl. I love her like a sister. I first met her in New York City about ten years ago. We'd have movie nights at her apartment every Tuesday with a revolving door of movers and shakers dropping in to watch whatever zany movie someone brought. (My personal favorite was For Your Height Only.) If you ever go to visit her, she'll make you feel like royalty as soon as you step in her door. Everything I've learned about being a warm, welcoming hostess I've learned from her.

Now she lives in Richmond, VA where she helms Cherry Bomb, an all-female deejay collective. An avid record collector, she is basically my music sensei. And, I gotta say, this mix knocks it straight out of the fucking park. IT HAS A BILL COSBY SONG ON IT which basically blew my mind! Click on the image to download it or click here.

Track Listing:

1. I Want To Hold Your Hand  - Al Green  
2. Funky North Philadelphia  - Bill Cosby   
3. School's Out  - Alice Cooper    
4. Southern Girls - Cheap Trick   
5. American Girl  - Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers   
6. With A Girl Like You  - The Troggs  
7. Hungry - Paul revere and the raiders 
8. Saturday Night  -  Bay City Rollers  
9. Hey! Little Child  -  Alex Chilton
10. Another Girl Another Planet  - Only Ones   
11. Kiss Me On The Bus  - The Replacements    
12. Stay Right Here For A Little While  - Outrageous Cherry  
13. Couldn't I Just Tell You  - Todd Rundgren   
14. Heart of the City  - Nick Lowe   
15. My Heart And The Real World  - Minutemen
16. Get that girl  - Joe Jackson    
17. Uncontrollable Urge  -  Devo
18. Let's Go  - Ramones   
19. Precision Auto  - Superchunk   
20. Motor Bike Beat  -  Revillos  
21. Ruthie Ruthie  - King Tuff 

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Reader Submitted Boxerdropper: Plenty of Pleasing Panties

From our reader April, who's underwear drawer is basically Marcellus Wallace's briefcase:

One of my killer girlfriend talents is that I have the best panty collection ever. Sure, for most of my life I had the underpants divide that many women have: the cute stuff vs. the comfortable stuff. But over the last five years or so, I've found that it's fun to keep a large number of ridiculously cute and sexy underpants that I can wear every day.

Sheer buffalo plaid boy shorts? Check! Teeny tiny black cotton thong? Check! Little low-riding satin bikinis? Check.

Not just a variety of colors, prints, and fabrics, but I know my brands and make sure they all fit perfectly. Underpants don't make it into my little drawer unless they fit right and look fantastic.

When I'm someone's girlfriend, sexy time is like opening a present on Christmas morning: What will I have on today? The anticipation is insane! I can see them peeking when I bend over to pick something up, hoping for a clue. I love it!

Wow! You certainly have your underwear bases covered. As a side note, I once dated a guy who couldn't stand the word "panties." He HATED it. He said just hearing the word made his skin crawl. How weird is that? Very weird, right? I used to fuck with him and just say the word randomly and he'd shoot daggers at me with his eyes. If by chance he's reading this post, my dear, this is for you: PANTIES!!! Haha. Deal with it.

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Boxerdropper: I Will Smell Amazing On Our First Date And All Subsequent Dates

There aren't many things in life that I can guarantee with 100% certainty, but smelling good on our first date is one them. I have an array of perfumes on my vanity in pretty, colorful bottles. They have alluring top notes like magnolia, peony, and/or black violet. Some are very expensive and some aren't, but my perfume collection will knock your socks off.

I will choose one to spritz on my neck and wrists before I meet you. It won't be overpowering. It won't make you sneeze. It will be a subtle accent that you won't notice until we get very close together. And, you will love it.

You'll first sense it at the show we attend on our first date. You will lean in to tell me about how you knew the drummer of the band back when you were in college and my scent will waft into your nostrils and your brain will do backflips trying to figure out what I'm wearing.

And, when you ask me, I won't tell you. I'm gonna lie and say that I bought it in a little perfume shop when I went to Italy last summer, but really it's just a limited-edition scent from Bath and Body Works. I ain't telling you my secrets that easily.   

Your pillow will be lightly scented with my perfume and when you notice it, you'll think of me and the time we stayed in, ordered Thai food and watched Steve McQueen movies for an entire Sunday afternoon. That was rad. And, I'm rad because I smell amazing.

Ladies, why would you make a great girlfriend? Tell us at hi@shmittenkitten.com. 

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Bonerkiller: Guys Who Think That "Hipsters" Are A Terrible Thing To Be Shunned

Me: "What do you wanna do tonight?"

Him, shrugging: "I don't know."

Me: "Why don't we go to the Lost Bar for a beer or two? That could be fun."

Him: "Nah. That's a hipster bar."

Me, thinking: "Um, alright. Maybe we could go to Johnny Brenda's?"

Him: "Ugh! That place is even worse! It's practically crawling with hipsters."

Me: "So what? It's a bar where beer will be served. Who cares?"

Him: "They just suck, that's all." 

Hearing him rant about hipsters is like hearing your dad talk about Hannah Montana: he's speaking about something that he has no business caring about. Who cares what hipsters do? It's like caring about someone's interests on Friendster or that Project Runway moved to the Lifetime network or who your fourth employer listed on LinkedIn is: NO ONE CARES! No one should give a shit about hipsters ever. End of story. 

It's like in his mind, anything fun and vaguely enjoyed by young people is somehow equated to a devil's den where people sip PBRs and slouch and possibly have a Tumblr blog. BFD.

Fuck, this guy is getting on my nerves. The only places he ever wants to go are to Phillies games, his neighbor's house to watch Phillies games, or his own living room to watch Phillies games. Just hearing the word "hipster" from his mouth makes me want to roll my eyes so hard that they'll pop out of my head, spin down the floor, and come to a gentle rest by the edge of the carpet. THUMBS WAY THE FUCK DOWN!

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Things I'm Terrible At: Making Any Fucking Sense

Me, extending my hand: "Hi! My name's Anna. What's yours?"

Him: "Hey! I'm Mark."

*the hamster wheel in my head spins* Me: "Oh yeah, like the Mark in--what's that show?--"The Hogan Family"? Weren't there twins on that show? I feel like there were. And, one of them was named Mark, right?

Him: "Wow. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Me: "That show! It was on in the '80s. I think Jason Bateman was on it as the older brother. I think it used to be called "Valerie" but then she left and Sandy Duncan joined the cast. Remember?

Him: "No, man. I honestly have no clue."

Me, undeterred: "Mark! Like, the mark that a pen makes on a piece of paper??"

Him: "Yeah, I guess. Sure."

Then, he walked away.

Apparently, I am terrible at making any sort of fucking sense. HOWEVER, I just googled it and it's a real thing. See?

Booyah!

Mental note: "Hogan Family" jokes are not hot. I should write that down somewhere for future reference.

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Bonerkiller: Scoop Neck Shirts On A Dude

I would not hit this

There a lot of necklines that I'll welcome with open arms: crew necks are cool. Polo collars: okey doke. V-necks: sure, why not. Hell, I'll even tolerate a deep V if the guy can pull it off without looking like a total douchbag. (The key? Have a beer belly and wear a flannel over it.)

However, I have no love for scoop necks on a guy. Never have, never will. No one needs to see that much man clavicle. It's horrible. Who wants to see a wiry chest hair framed by a loosey goosey neckline? NOT ME!

It looks like their shirt is frowning, and I don't blame it. Even the shirt knows that it looks ridiculous! My best friend's ex used to wear shirts like this all the time and I'd have to shield my eyes when he'd walk through the door.

I'm like the army dad in American Beauty all of a sudden. I wanna grab him by the thin shirt material and yell, "Get a respectable neckline, ya freeloadin' hippie! You're two inches of fabric away from a nip slip. It ain't right."

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Story Time: What Would You Tell A Younger Version Of Youself About Dating?

He's not sad, he's making a lasagna (for one)

Maybe it's the rain dribbling down my window that's making me reflective this afternoon, but I've been thinking about what advice I would give to a younger version of me about how to date without being a total retard. I'm not saying I'm an expert at dating now. Rest assured, I still fuck it up regularly (as many men across the Delaware Valley can attest.) However, I'd like to think that I don't fuck it up quite as much as I did five or ten years ago.

Right off the bat, I can think of a few nuggets of wisdom that I would tell myself:

1. No guy will ever be impressed that you used to listen to hardcore punk. Stop telling them how you interned at Victory Records for one summer. They'll think it's weird, not hot. Guys don't want to picture you in a Snapcase shirt and camouflage cargo pants, TRUST ME.
   

2. Just because he holds your hands doesn't mean he's "in like" with you. This has fooled me, literally, dozens of times. I used to think holding hands meant that you were basically boyfriend/ girlfriend. Clearly, that is not the case. DON'T FALL FOR IT!

3. Use the time when you're single wisely. This is usually the time to do the raddest stuff, like travel, meet new people, and start new projects. It's a gift; don't squander it on endless happy hours and pity parties.

4. Don't try and seriously date a tall guy just to see if you'd be into it. You won't be. Their long limbs and big feet will freak you out. And, you'll secretly hate how they can reach shit off the top shelf without being on their tippy toes because that's your thing. Stick to your shorter guy guns, so to speak, no matter what anyone says. Follow that instinct and don't care what people say.

5. Lie and tell guys you aren't interested in going out with that you're taken. Practice in the mirror if you have to. Pretend it's gonna go on your Oscar clip reel.

6. Try to be friends with your ex if at all possible. I wish I did this when I was younger, but out of insecurity and immaturity, I didn't because I felt like it'd hurt my pride in a weird way. Now I know that people go through shit that I don't always understand, and it's better to be forgiving and loving than bitter and short-sighted. I burned a lot of bridges with people who were close to me and I sincerely regret that.

Is there anything you'd add? Leave your thoughts in the comments.

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Mix Masters: Chris Ward's Don't Come A-Knockin' If The Yacht's A Rockin' Mix

Some of you may remember Chris Ward from being one beard hair away from snagging our Philly's Sexiest Dude ALIVE! title last December. Others may know him from being one half of Philly bearded wonders, Pattern is Movement. Clearly, he rules.

We asked him to do a mix for us, and this is what he tossed to together. He explains, "It's inspired by the famed yacht rock that we came to love a few years ago via the show on Channel 101. However, I peppered the playlist with some slammin' r&b that seems to have inspired the blue-eyed soul that is yacht rock. I also placed a couple r&b tunes from the '90s/'00s that seemed to fit the bill, so this is definitely a lineage of yacht rock of sorts." There you go!

These are the types of smooth jams he'll be spinning tonight at Johnny Brenda's from 7pm-11pm for a Beer Week Cider event. Go 'cause cider will be a flowin' all night long. Click on the image to download the mix and prepare to sail away.

Click to download this puppy

Track Listing:

1. Darling Baby - The Elgins
2. I'm In Love - Wilson Pickett
3. Whatcha See Is Whatcha Get - The Dramatics
4. Have You Seen Her - The Chi-Lites
5. I'm Glad You're Mine - Al Green
6. I've Never Found A Girl (To Love Me Like You Do) - Eddie Floyd
7. Yah Mo B There with James Ing - Michael McDonald
8. What A Fool Believes - The Doobie Brothers
9. Biggest Part Of Me - Ambrosia
10. How Long - Ace
11. Whenever I Call You Friend - Kenny Loggins and Stevie Nicks
12. Never Be The Same - Christopher Cross
13. Close the Door - Teddy Pendergrass
14. Into The Night - Benny Mardones
15. Time Out Of Mind - Steely Dan
16. Waterfalls - TLC
17. You Don't Know My Name - Alicia Keys

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Bonerkiller: Guys Who Make Me Watch Fantastic Planet

Oh man, I hate this movie. If you've never heard of it, it's an animated French film that's a surrealistic adventure and zzzzzzzzzz. I can't even describe this movie without falling asleep. And, I couldn't watch this YouTube trailer without wanting to punch my computer monitor. Seriously, that's how angry this film makes me.

But--I swear to god--it seems that every two-bit film student I've ever hung out with has tried to make me watch it with him. It's like they all read the same dating manual that says we have to watch this on our fifth date when they've run out of ideas of where to take me.

"But, I hate it!" I'll protest. "It's just terrible! It's boring. It's weird. It makes me want to claw my own eyes out. I'd rather do ANYTHING than watch this movie. I'd rather clip my father's toenails than watch it. I'd rather watch Ernest Goes to Jail than watch this. Come on."

"Well, you have to be on drugs to properly enjoy it," he'll say, like that's a gamechanger.

"No amount of drugs in the world will make this movie appeal to me. Can't we just watch Back to the Future again or something?" He'll roll his eyes at me but whatever. Fantastic Planet cinemaniacs have gotta buzz off.

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Unscientific Poll: What's The Deal With Guys Who Wanna Take A Picture The Exact Minute They First Meet You?

"Hi! Nice to meet you. My name is Anna. Yeah, this is a great party. Well, I'm friends with the deejay, so, yeah."

I see him reaching for something in his pocket as I'm explaining how I came to be here. Is it a harmonica? Is it a meatball sub? Is it an iPad? Nope! It's a digital camera. Alright. Why is he taking out his cam--wait, he's pointing it at us?

So, now I'm scooting to get into the frame and nervously smiling as he clicks away holding the camera in front of us at arm's length. I feel his other arm squirm around my waist pulling me close to him so we are in the shot. What the fuck just happened? Why is this guy taking a picture of us? We just met!

A million questions race through my head: Is he on a dare? Is he on a scavenger hunt and has to find a picture of a bewildered girl somewhere that's loud and dark? Does he have terrible short-term memory like the guy in Memento?

Has this ever happened to you? Guys, have you ever done this to a girl? What gives?

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Hey, What's Goin' On?

Mystery called: He wants his goggles back.

So, I wanna hear about what's going on with you guys. How's it hangin'? How's life treating you? Anything you're pumped/ bored/ irritated/ psyched about?

Have dudes been bumming you out lately? Have they been making you feel excited about life?  Have you gone on any great dates? Any terrible ones? Have you received any stupid text messages? What is UP? 

Also, is there anything that you think we should write about that you've been noticing lately? Because if Shmitten Kitten is anything, it's for the people.

Tell us in the comments.

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Reader Submitted Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Will Openly Flirt With The Cute Girl At The Record Store In Front Of You

From our reader Rich, who is really being a bad boyfriend here:

It's Saturday morning and we're laying in bed watching Say Anything or maybe re-watching the second season of the U.S. version of the Office because that season is frickin' awesome. Around noon we decide to grab brunch at that little breakfast place a few blocks away that you like so much. Afterward, we decide to go to the record store and look around a bit and that is where I ruin the entire day.

I bring my stack of records up to the counter and exchange pleasantries with the girl working the register. As she's ringing me up, she makes a comment about the Cherry Valance album I picked up for 3 bucks. In turn, I compliment her for choosing to play The Gun Club's "Fire of Love" in the store.

From there we somehow get to talking about how each of us were at the MC5 show that Evan Dando played with them a few years back and how we both think "New Wind" by 7 Seconds is a highly underrated album. I'm laughing and agreeing with pretty much everything she says, and even as she keeps glancing over at you silently standing next to me, I make no effort to leave. I'm throwing some of my best game at her and even though you're right there, she's going with it.

This goes on for probably longer than a transaction for four records should take, but I'm enjoying talking to a cute girl that has the same musical taste that I do (no offense to you, but I can only listen to The Beastie Boys and White Stripes so many times before I go crazy). We finally leave but not before I mention to her that I deejay Monday nights at the dive bar down the street and that she should bring some records down sometime, maybe do a guest spot.

Of course we get in an argument on the way home and eventually I apologize for being a dick. Everything is cool again--until we go to the bar that night and I openly flirt with the girl working the door.

Holy shit, you ARE a bad boyfriend. Are you wearing a "What Would John Mayer Do?" bracelet? Because I feel that is something that he would do. Um, yeah, good luck with that.

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Things In His House That Make Me Glad: His Childhood Board Game Collection

Sweeeeeeet!

Another rainy night in and flipping through the channels has lost its appeal. My eyes begin to wander until they fall to a shelf in the corner and are met with a cardboard explosion of childhood nostalgia: his board game collection. Chutes and Ladders! Museum Caper Clue! Blokus! Monopoly and Battleship! He even has a vintage Thundercats game! Hoooooooo! This is amazing. I will pass Go and I will collect $200, thankyouverymuch!

No iPod Scrabble app can come close to the feeling of playful face-to-face competition. I'm having so much fun that I don't mind setting up the game pieces on his dusty old carpet since he doesn't have a proper dining room table. I don't even care what it's like outside anymore.

All I care about is trying to hide my smile so he remains unaware that my B7 targeted missile is totally about to sink his aircraft carrier. Victory is mine! *snicker*

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Good News For People Who Like To Carry Things: We Have Shmitten Kitten Tote Bags!

We created 25 limited-edition Shmitten Kitten tote bags with a white Black Flag-y logo on a black bag. Check these babies out:

We also created a limited-edition trio of rock 'n' roll pin designs that we've tweaked to say Shmitten Kitten. The G 'n' R pin is round even though the pic is square:

You can get all three pins and a tote bag for only $11.99, which includes the cost of shipping. Do it soon 'cause when we're out, we're out! ORDER IT HERE!

Once an order is placed, you will receive an email from me with payment instructions. You can expect your order to be sent out within 48 hours after payment has been received. Snap 'em up, yo!

A huge thanks goes out to Fireball printing for cranking out the tote bags and thanks to Kat from Zen Kitten for makin' these pins . She's a local Philly girl who makes rad stuff; buy it.

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Contest Time: First One To Name Five Things That Turn Me Off About The Guy In This Picture Wins A Prize!

Email them to me at hi@shmittenkitten.com.

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Surprisingly Not a Bonerkiller: Former Hoodlums

So, while I was doing my Latin homework in study hall like a bookworm, he was the guy who'd be tossed out for talking back to the teacher? While I was applying to colleges, he was suspended for smoking on school grounds? While I was writing essays about Camus' The Stranger, he was pounding rivals in an alley?

Surprisingly, I'm not turned off by this. In fact, I think it's kind of cute to picture him being a teenage badass. He's the total Will Hunting to my cross-eyed British lady with big life plans!

The good news is that this guy is reformed now and can look back on his younger years and laugh at the scuffles he got into it. His scars have good stories. One is from the time a guy pulled a knife on him (!!!!) during a rowdy house party. And, another one is from the time he lit his eyebrow on fire as a dare.

I don't have any good stories to my scars. I once tripped by a swimming pool and have a nick on my knee. I also have a scar where a kitten bit me. THAT'S IT! Those are the lamest scars ever.

I'm totally fixated by his stories about his turbulent youth. It's hard to believe that this sweet, amazing loyal, successful guy was a teen troublemaker. How cute!

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Bonerkiller: Spitters

From our reader Diane, who cannot stand spitters. At all.

I don't think there is anything more unattractive then a guy who spits. I mean, what the hell are you thinking?!?! Okay, your name is not Buffalo Bill nor are you with your buddies at the local bar aiming at the ol' spittoon; You're on the street, waiting for the light to change or in line for coffee at the deli.

What is it with guys who get this urge to hawk a loogie? When I start to hear that tell-tale snort, not only does it cause me to start breaking out in goosebumps, but I also feel like hop/running away from you so my feet don't get spattered with your nasty excess mouth goo.

At least excuse yourself and do that in the privacy of a bathroom. But right in front of me?! Not cool. I don't care if you just came from the dentist and have an inordinate amount of saliva being produced, or if you have really bad sinuses. There is nothing more horrendous then hearing/seeing a man spit. Extra demerit points when it's on a date (which has occurred).

I hear ya, and I know I'm gonna be in the minority here, but I have to confess that I think it's kinda cool when a guy spits. In fact, I had a crush on a boy in college and the first thing that we did when he came back to my dorm room was have a spitting contest out of the window to see who could land one on a pigeon below. It made my heart happy to watch him try and summon a loogie from deep within his chest. I loved that guy.

I also adore the line in the Fall Out Boy song "Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner" that goes, "Drink down that gin and kerosene/ And come spit on bridges with me" because that is TOTALLY SOMETHING I'D DO! I think it's romantic in some fucked up youthful way, like carving our initials in a tree or exchanging socks so you can wear something of his. It's probably just me, right?

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Quick Rant: Loud Snackers Must Die!

From our reader Clarissa who wants to watch loud snackers die a slow, tortured death (I assume, I didn't ask her or anything):

Have you ever encountered a loud midnight snacker? It's the worst. I had one and he woke me up two nights in a row with his frantic cereal eating. I don't understand. I just don't. At 3am I heard the kitchen cabinet clanging shut, spoons banging, cereal pouring into the bowl, and then my refrigerator door slamming shut. It sounds like children are trying to start a pot and pan band in my kitchen!

How can one man make that much noise while preparing a bowl of cereal for consumption? For the love of god, he is right next to the kitchen so couldn't he at east try to buffer the noise by shutting the door to my bedroom?

On the second night, he actually brought the cereal bowl into MY bed. I don't even do that and I'm in my bed 8-10 hours a night! I couldn't believe how this joker was eating food in my bed. Does he think I want to sleep in crumbs and soy milk? Arrrgghhhh!!!!

He has disrupted my beauty sleep with his midnight snacking as well as brought Raisin Bran into my bed at the ass crack of dawn. It's just gross. I have never heard anyone make some much noise while eating a bowl of cereal. There is a reason the Princess in the Princess and the Pea couldn't sleep: It was because food was in her bed.

You poor thing! This has never happened to me. Instead, I get guys who love to pour themselves a drink with my fancy vodka before we go to bed but then they pass out before they finish their night-cap so then I have to toss it out in the morning. It's not loud or disruptive, it's just annoying. BUT, it happens in/near my bed so I thought you could maybe relate? Maybe? Not really? Forget about it.

Anything gettin' your goat? Tell me at hi@shmittenkitten.com. Let's hear it.

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Things In His House That Make Me Sad: Weird Candles

Seriously, it smells like an apple's scrotum in here

Why does it smell like a locker room filled with rotten apples in here? Oh, that's his candle? He's trying to make his house smell like this on purpose? Oy vey.

I don't hate all candles, just stinky, old, dusty, disfigured ones that punch me in the face with their stench. Who wants to smell spiced apples when it's practically summer? At least make your shitty candle seasonally appropriate. Throw me a clean linen or sea breeze, dude!

Where did he get it? Maybe it was a present from a co-worker at last year's Christmas party? Or, maybe his sister gave it to him for his birthday? Who knows?

I can't imagine him picking this thing out himself. Wait, let me picture it; there he is in Bed, Bath and Beyond sniffing the lot of 'em, trying to find the perfect house candle. That's kind of cute.

And, it's kind of cute to picture him fishing around for a match to light the thing before I came over. And, it's kind of cute to picture him tilting the candle to light the wick thinking, "Man, I am turning the romance in here up to 11! Wait 'til she gets a load of this. This is really gonna set the mood."

See? Right there when he mentally articulated "the mood" is where this candle thing became gross. What's next, massage oils? Barry White on the stereo? How about he lights some incense too so I can overwhelm ALL of my senses with these cheezy seduction techniques. It's like he learned how to woo a woman from reading the classified section of an alt-weekly newspaper. Yikes.

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