Phrases We'd Like To Stab In The Face: "What Apps Do You Have?"

I was recently out of town for a work trip and saddled up to the hotel bar, enjoying my allotment of expenseable per diem alcohol. Drinking alone at a hotel bar can sometimes be awkward, but you quickly learn what all bartenders already know: it's fun to listen in on other people and silently judge them.

I was watching this guy hopelessly flirt with a girl sitting at the bar, too. His pickup line? "Is that an iPhone? Do you like it? What apps do you have?"

It took every fiber of my being to not puke all over the place. Instead, I think just did a whole-body cringe.

First, it's time to stop acting like having an iPhone is anything special at this point. In the first few years of their existence, it was slightly unique. But now any mouthbreathing idiot can walk into a local Walmart and buy one for $49. iPhones are the new Razr phones. Soon they'll be giving away older models for free when you upgrade your McDonald's meal to the larger size.

Don't get me wrong, the iPhone is amazing. It's just not amazing in that, "oh look, we have something in common to talk about at the bar" kinda way. What kind of a question is, "Do you like it?" Of course she likes it! Up until this point, it was a great tool for making herself look busy so idiots like you wouldn't come up and talk to her at the bar.

Lastly, the apps question. C'mon, dude! It's like digging deeper into a hole you've already fallen into face-first. What better place can this conversation possibly go? Is your follow-up going to be, "I've got a great QR code reader I can recommend!" or "Oh, Angry Birds? Me too! Don't you just hate those sneaky green pigs?"

If she had a prototype iPad 7 with 3-D glasses and an attached USB espresso machine, maybe that's something to start a conversation about. Something like, "HOLY SHIT, WHAT IS THAT THING?" is a great starting point. Otherwise, you gotta show up with something more to offer. Or better yet, leave the poor girl alone and let her play Words With Friends in peace.

6 Comments

I Love Love Love When She Leaves Traces Of Her Scent

The morning after a hookup/sleepover is always a weird thing for dudes. If you've got work the next morning and a girl in your bed, it's a bit of a gray area as to what should happen when you've gotta scoot. Some guys have a strict rule on this topic: she leaves when you leave. The idea of a girl with unfettered access to every drawer in your room is frightening for some. I get that.

But, I have a more laid-back approach. If there's a beautiful girl sleeping in my bed and she doesn't have anywhere to be, I can't bring myself to wake her up when I gotta take off. But honestly, the thought of her padding around my house with messy hair in my t-shirt looking for the coffee maker makes my day. You can't get much cuter than that.

However, I also can't shake that weird feeling of coming home from work eight hours later to a room that I left someone in while I was gone. Things don't look like how I left them. Usually the bed is made (something I rarely do and serious kudos to the girls who do this) and there's sorta this general Goldilocks and the Three Bears feeling to it all.

But what totally kicks this experience up to the next level is when a girl sprays a little bit of her perfume in the room before she leaves. I get home from work, open the door, and suddenly I'm lost in a fog thinking of her. They say that the sense of smell is tied closest to memory in your brain. Pardon me while I instantly relive all the amazingness our date the night before. I can't get the girl out of my head after that point. Then, as the perfume fades, my head automatically turns to thoughts of "When can I see this girl next?" She's got me.

Now, this of course is a pro move. If it's a first or second sleepover, then it's probably too soon for the perfume room spritz. After that, it's fair game. Obviously moderation is key here, but it's a secret weapon that reels me in every time.

13 Comments

Bonerkiller: You Are Way Too Intense About Christmas

Clearly the date has gone well. We've been flirting back and forth all night and now we're finally at the door to her apartment for a Holiday nightcap. The room was dark as she casually reached over to flip the light switch and..

SWEET BABY JESUS IN A MANGER! IT'S LIKE A NUCLEAR CHRISTMAS-BOMB WENT OFF IN HERE!

I don't know what I'm more scared of: the Christmas tree that is roughly the size of a Manhattan studio apartment, the life-size singing Rudolph inflatable, or the fact that literally every square inch of the halls are decked out with Christmas lights.

Now it all starts to come together: her insistence on the peppermint mocha latte at Starbucks, driving the long way to dinner to look at the holiday lights, quickly changing the radio to the Christmas station when we got in her car. She's a Christmas fanatic! Santa himself doesn't give this much of a fuck about Christmas.

There's something inherently creepy about an adult who's way too into Christmas. I'm all about getting festive for the holidays, but she's taking it to a whole new unhinged level. It's like some part of her got trapped as a mental six-year-old and she's not able to let go.

I don't mean to be a Scrooge on this one, but I think Christmas should be enjoyed, like all things, in moderation. Leave the craziness and the mayhem for the kids. Anyone who disagrees can take it up with me in person. I'll be at Target at 11:00pm on Christmas Eve buying iTunes gift cards like I do every year.

2 Comments

Real Talk: A Dude's Take On Girls' Halloween Costumes

Granted, he's not a girl, but we admire
Matt Lauer's commitment to his costume

Getting your Halloween costume together is always a somewhat agonizing process. Even for a guy like me who LOVES Halloween, I have to admit that sometimes the whole thing can be overwhelming. That being said, if you do the right costume the right way, you can be the hit of the party.

Anna and I bumped into each other this weekend in Philly and she asked me for a guy's perspective on what kind of costume guys like to see. I told her I'd make a post about it. Now, keep in mind that you should do a costume that makes YOU happy and fuck what stupid boys think, but just in case you care about my opinion, here goes:

1. If your costume idea is ambitious, go all out.
If you're going to be Lady Gaga, don't half-ass it. You're the one who chose the bold costume, now its your responsibility to go ALL OUT. It's all about the details. Is it gonna cost you an extra $20 to get your hair done with the Diet Coke can curlers? Who cares? You're Lady Gaga. DO IT.

2. If your costume is thrown together at the last minute, you better make it funny.
Okay, if you're going to toss a costume together on Friday afternoon with a quick trip to the thrift store, just make sure you've got a good idea behind it. No one wants to see another shitty zombie. One of my favorite cheap/easy costume ideas is to dress up like someone in your friend group. Pick someone with an identifiable style and mimic their look exactly. Unless it's totally unflattering, your friend will be confused and slightly honored.

3. Getting sexy?
This is a controversial Halloween topic, but you should keep in mind that as long as Halloween exists, there will be girls who use Halloween to dress in a ridiculously over-the-top sexy outfits. And I say, why the hell not? Why can't a normal girl have one day a year to let loose and wear something totally over the top? Now, there's always going to be your garden variety sorority girls rocking "sexy butterfly" or "sexy french maid." Bor-ring. If you're going to go sexy, be creative. Make it a part of your costume, or make it absolutely ridiculous. Who could say no to a sexy Chewbacca or sexy Hermione? Not this guy.

4. Topical, but not TOO topical.
Look, let's get right to the point: there's going to be 10,000 Antoine Dodsons roaming your city this Saturday. Not to mention armies of Old Spice guys and Chilean miners. If you're going to go topical, you need to either be SUPER ahead of the curve and anticipate this week's next huge meme (not easy to do) or you can keep it simple and keep things old school. Be a LOLcat. Be Friendster. I dunno, you'll know when you find it.

5. Girls, no beards.
I realize this is a bit specific, but it freaks me out. If your costume calls for painting facial hair or a five-o-clock shadow on your face, DON'T DO IT! You'll meet a new guy on Halloween, and then later, when you start dating a few months from now, his mind will always flash back to that creepy paint beard on your face and it will haunt him for the rest of my life. Not that this actually happened in real life. Ya know, just hypothetically speaking.

6. Nerd OUT.
Here's my final and most important rule. This is your one day to nerd out, so make the most of it. If you're way into Star Trek, you go right on ahead and be Tasha Yar. If you've always wanted to crossdress as David Bowie in Labyrinth, don't let me stop you. If you're dressed up in something that you love and you're having a great time, you're bound to meet that fellow nerd who is going to stop dead in his tracks when he sees your epic costume. He's going to fall in love right there. I guarantee it.*

*Results may vary.

2 Comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Make Ridiculous Promises About Things I Have No Control Over

"You're not going to get stung by a jellyfish. I promise. I'll protect you."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a complete lie. It was just a hunch based on mathematical probability: The ocean is a huge place and there are literally thousands of people up and down the beach. The odds of one of us ACTUALLY getting stung were virtually slim to none.

So, you can imagine how shitty I felt ten minutes later when we're sitting back on the beach and she's staring daggers at me while the bright red rash from the jellyfish sting grew increasingly bigger. Damn you, jellyfish.

Why the hell did I make that promise?

I make outrageous promises all the time; I barely even notice myself doing it. When I was on the phone with a girlfriend late at night and she heard a sound in her apartment that made her nervous, I immediately countered with, "Don't worry. It's nothing, I promise."  What if there was some crazy axe-wielding maniac in her kitchen? Why did I just promise her that she would be fine?

Some more greatest hits from my false-promise past include, "It's not that spicy," "We won't run into my ex at this party," and many more. Believe me, there's quite a few.

On the plus side, at least my promise-breaking scenarios are mostly ridiculous. There's a lot of guys out there for whom breaking promises about serious stuff is second nature. Those guys, unfortunately, are the true bad boyfriends and should be avoided at all costs. Boyfriends like me should be, well, tolerated begrudgingly.While I can promise to be a good dude and treat you like the classy lady that you are, I might also promise that it definitely won't rain this weekend if we go camping. And when it inevitably starts drizzling, you can add it to the long list of things that make me a bad boyfriend.

1 comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Will Not Offer You Some Of This Delicious Snack

Lay off me, I'm STAAAARVING!

OH MY GOD, THESE CASHEWS WERE THE BEST GAS STATION PURCHASE EVER.

Normally, I'm like, "Damn, should I get cashews? Nah, not this time. They're too pricey." Seriously, it's like $2+ for a relatively small bag of cashews. Nuts are expensive. Usually, the highest level of snack I'll purchase is the large bag of Combos.

So to celebrate treating myself to this serious roadtrip snack splurge, I quickly wolf down the entire bag.

In front of you.

Ahhh...shit.

I'm sorry, but if we ever dated, I'd probably forget to share my delicious snack with you. Sadly, I wish this applied to just cashews, but that's not the case. You can add movie popcorn and the side of fries at dinner to this list as well. It's not that I don't WANT to share, it's that I forget. I slip into the "food zone" and start snacking away. Next thing I know, there's an empty bag that formerly held cashews in front of me and you in the passenger seat with that look on your face.

I feel like I'm not alone on this; I think it's a dude thing. I've never sat down with one of my guy friends at lunch and offered him some of my fries or said, "Hey, you gotta try a bite of this sandwich." It's just not what we do. My female friends and co-workers don't even blink at splitting lunch or sharing a snack. Rather than shoulder the blame for this, I'll go ahead and burden the entire male gender instead.

So, while I can promise you that I will try to remember to share, your best bet is to get your own bag of cashews. And that makes me a bad boyfriend.

5 Comments

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?

5 Comments

Quick Rant: Men's Summertime Fashion

I've decided not to go on any dates this summer. Why, you ask? Here you go: I don't know how to go on a date without looking like a complete idiot. When the hot humid months of summer arrive, I can't leave the house in the daytime without looking like a total fashion disaster.

In the winter months, I'm golden. I can whip together a classy jeans/jacket/scarf combo that will leave you thinking I fell right out of a photo spread on The Sartorialist. But once the weather forecast starts heading into the 80s, I'm done for.

I realize the catalogs you get in the mail show dudes looking oh-so-comfortable and classy wearing boat shoes and lounging on the decks of yachts, but those are male models. For the rest of us normal-looking dudes, we just look ridiculous.

You see, in the summer I have only four options:

• Sacrifice comfort for fashion and wear jeans and my normal clothes, which is doable during an evening date. However, if the sun is still out, you're going to be looking at one hot sweaty mess of a date. Gross. Nobody wants a sweaty date.
  
  
• Go for comfort and wear shorts and a t-shirt, which inevitably makes me look like a bearded 15-year-old skater kid version of myself.
  
  
• Try to class it up and wear shorts and a button-up or a polo, which makes me look like some weird fast-forward awkward dad version of myself.
  
  
• Go for total comfort and wear no pants at all. This is just...awkward.

As you can see, none of these options are appealing.

Then, of course, there's the issue of shorts. I never know what's "cool." Do I go above the knee or below the knee? Cargo or plain? Khaki or grey? IT'S ALL SO OVERWHELMING. Don't even get me started on socks.

So, basically, I'm going into hiding. If you need me, I'll be enjoying the cool hum of my apartment's air conditioner and wearing whatever I want. I'll see you when the leaves start changing color; I'll be the one wearing pants.

22 Comments

Real Talk: Don't Let Foursquare One-Up Your Date

Unless you've been living under a rock with no Internet connection, the latest craze is the geo-location site, Foursquare. It's one part social media time-suck, one part nightlife guide, one part game, and eight parts material for anyone interested in real-life stalking you.

Foursquare rewards you for "checking in" to places you go on a daily basis. The coffee shop around the corner, the bar where you guzzle down PBRs every Friday night; it's all fair game. Your check-in earns you points, badges, and even a coveted mayorship if you check in more than anyone else. What does this mean in real life? Absolutely jack shit, which is why I have a sneaking suspicion you might see Foursquare joining the ranks of Friendster and MySpace in a few years.

In the meantime, everyone with an iPhone is playing and well, it's getting a little out of hand. It's not appropriate yet for you to shout "HEY! I'M THE MAYOR HERE!" as you saunter into your local taco joint. Hopefully it stays that way.

Since we're here to talk about dating, I thought I'd set some ground rules about Foursquare and dating. I haven't seen anyone talk about the two in conjunction, so I thought a few guidelines might help.

1. Never talk about Foursquare on the first date unless she is an uber-nerd. Even in this post, it took me a solid two paragraphs to give you the basics of Foursquare. I've tried this before and it always starts with this eyes-glazing-over thing and then she makes this face as if you're trying to explain the plot of Star Wars: The Phantom Menace. It never ends well. No matter how cool you think Foursquare is, there's no way to explain it in which you don't look like a total dork at the end. ABORT MISSION.
   
   
2. Don't let her see you check in. It's just rude. Believe me, as a former Foursquare addict, the first urge you get is to check in the moment you walk in the door or sit down. Wait for her to go to the bathroom or check in as you are walking up. Or don't do it at all. It totally leaves a bad impression. Your date is going to read you playing on your iPhone as total disinterest in the date, even though technically you're announcing it to the world. Which leads us to...
   
   
3. Be careful what you announce on Foursquare. Is this a first date? Were your friends giving you shit about asking this girl out? Think twice about telling the world where your date is taking place to eliminate the chance that one or two of your friends are nearby and try to crash it. Believe me, it happens.
   
4. Don't ever lie about where you are. Ever. You shouldn't be doing this anyway, but if you're dumb enough to try to date two girls at the same time, Foursquare is TOTALLY NOT FOR YOU. Alternatively, if you're trying to keep a new relationship on the D/L, and you're checking in together all over town, people are going to put two and two together. Criminals, secret keepers, and serial daters should probably just steer clear of this social media trend.
   
   
5. If it turns out she IS on Foursquare, give it some time before you follow her. So you had a successful first date AND she's on Foursquare? Awesome! Just give it a little time before you add her as a friend. Or better yet, let her do it. Becoming friends on Foursquare is sorta like saying, "Hey, I'm cool with you knowing roughly where I am most of the time" and frankly, most girls aren't down with that if they've just met you. So take it easy, and if she's cool with you, you'll get the friend request. Simmer down!
   
   
6. No Foursquare random run-ins. It doesn't matter if you're right across the street from where she just checked in, if you aren't SUPER TIGHT FRIENDS, you can't show up there and "bump into her." This is Hannibal Lecter-level creepiness and her stalker radar will be on full blast. Even though, in your head, this is a totally reasonable thing because bumping into friends while you're out and about is the main reason for Foursquare, none of this logic matters at all. You will be forever slightly creepy in her mind.

Foursquare users, date and check in with abandon. By following these simple rules, hopefully you can become the mayor of your very own hot date.

7 Comments

I Feel I Failed To Impress You With My CD Collection

I really have to do something about this CD shelf.

Every time I bring a date back to my place, we get to that awkward tour of my room, where inevitably her eyes are drawn to this ridiculous IKEA monstrosity that holds every single CD I've ever purchased since 1990. It's like the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but instead of emitting high-pitched shrieks to catapult species to the next evolutionary stage, it houses dustbin classics of yore.

Now, look; maybe you've been a super cool kid since 1990, but I can tell you with complete confidence that I was not. And now that you're in my room, I have the CDs to prove it.

Of course, your eyes breeze right past the Hot Chip and Catherine Wheel CDs and my extensive Ryan Adams and Bjork collections. Nope, instead you zero right in on the most embarrassing stuff.

"Wow! You sure do have a lot of Barenaked Ladies albums."

I'm usually pretty good about keeping things organized and orderly in my life. I have no problem throwing away all kinds of old stuff, but the idea of throwing away or selling an old CD just seems to be sacrilege. Sure, I haven't listened to the sweet dulcet tones of "If I Had A Million Dollars" in about ten years. But, that's beside the point! What if I randomly decide I need to hear that song?! There was a time in my life where I wore khaki cargo shorts and had blonde highlights and thought that song was amazing. I feel that in throwing away the CD, I'd be throwing away a little part of my musical biography, as awkward of a chapter as it may have been.

So yeah, you're basically face-to-face with my dark, lame musical past.

I suppose in the meantime, I could pretend my entire CD wall is an art project. I could title it, "Ode To A Dying Musical Format" and then maybe I'd impress you.

In the meantime, though, my CD collection isn't quite doing the trick.

7 Comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Will Move To Portland After We Break Up

This has happened to me more times than I'd care to admit: Shortly after breaking up, my exes tend to move to Portland, OR aka the farthest possible corner of the United States (excluding remote Alaska or Hawaii). C'mon, was I seriously THAT bad?

So I've decided to turn the tables. After we break up, I'm going to move to Portland.

Yep, that's right. A few weeks after our teary-eyed breakup, I'll be packing my bags, renting a truck, and moving out to Portland to become a copywriter or a graphic designer. Or maybe a green architect. I'll probably end up waiting tables for six months to a year, but whatever.

And you're going to HATE it. I'll make sure of it.

I'll kick things off by posting Facebook photos of my EPIC cross-country roadtrip. They'll be of me in front of the Grand Canyon, standing under the Las Vegas sign, eating at In 'n' Out Burger. While you're sitting in your boring apartment working your boring dayjob, I'll be twisting the knife in by having mind-blowingly fun roadtrip adventures.

Once I arrive in Portland to my modest apartment that I'll share with "some guys I knew back in college," I'll proceed to send you e-mails documenting the following highlights:

- I'll tell you about the amazing locally-grown organic free range coffee shop I found right around the corner from my new place. In your imagination, the lattes there will be 1,000 times better than any latte you've ever tasted.

- I'll tell you about all the great indie record stores that I've discovered, where I just so happened to find an original pressing of your favorite record. Not to mention, I totally bumped into the banjo player from Fleet Foxes there too! Great dude; we totally hit it off.

- Then I'll post photos from a really amazing kayaking trip I took with some granola-loving backpacking kids I met at work. Every single picture will look like it came from a coffee table book titled, "The Most Beautiful Natural Setting You've Ever Seen."

Lastly, I'll tell you about how I started playing cello in an instrumental space-rock project. We started playing shows at the Food Not Bombs collective house and the dude I met from Fleet Foxes totally joined the band too! Now, we're opening for Fleet Foxes on a few West Coast dates.

Basically, with each e-mail, I'll make you despise me more for all the fun I'm having while you're trapped in your boring, uneventful East Coast life. By the time you move on, find someone new, dump him and move out to Portland yourself, I'll be long gone. You see, there will be a new hipster mecca by then. And, it's so obscure you probably haven't even heard of it yet.

12 Comments

Quick Rant: Yo, Stop Hating Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is rapidly approaching. While I think most of us can agree that we cringe slightly upon seeing our madly-in-love friends go crazy for this holiday, it pales in comparison to what I consider to be a far worse problem: Valentine's Day haters.

I don't mean to put this all on the female population, but let's be honest here: I don't hear too many guys talking about "gouging their eyes out" on this holiday or trying to stay home from work because they can't handle seeing all the flowers and balloons and god-knows-what-else getting delivered. I don't know if it's years of built-up single rage or if it was ruined forever by that first high-school boyfriend, but we all gotta CHILL OUT on that shit!

Every year, I hear the same tired thing from every girl I talk to who hates Valentine's Day: "I think it's bullshit that we pick one day a year to celebrate love. I want a guy who will bring me flowers and take me out to a fancy dinner on a random Wednesday, not some cheesy corporate holiday."

I get what you're saying here, but here's the thing: if you're dating a great dude, he will buy you flowers and take you out to a nice dinner on that random Wednesday AND on Valentine's Day. If your boyfriend is dialing it in 364 days a year and only treating you like a lady on Valentine's Day, the problem ISN'T Valentine's Day... it's your idiot BOYFRIEND.

As single people, I think we just need to embrace Valentine's Day for what it is. It's a sappy holiday. If you're single, that's cool! Call up some friends and watch a John Cusack movie. If you're in Philly, swing by our V-Day Dance Party and shake a tail feather. It doesn't have to be a pity party - just have fun! There's nothing more unattractive than someone seething with hatred at a holiday that celebrates all that mushy love stuff that ultimately everyone deep down is looking for.

So have a little heart this Valentine's Day. Keep the hate to a minimum and just enjoy it for what it is. In a short 24 hours, it will be Presidents Day, and who could possibly hate that?!

5 Comments

Surprisingly Not A Bonerkiller: Your Weird Sleeping Habits

It’s that important dating milestone. We’ve gone on a few dates and we’re totally hitting it off and things are progressively inching ever closer to that “Do you want to sleep over?” moment. Well, it's finally happening and I’m following you up the stairs to your bedroom.

Everything is going perfectly, but it’s not until we’re about to fall asleep that things get weird. When you rolled over to mess with something on your nightstand, I assumed you were putting on some nice quiet falling-asleep music or setting your alarm for the morning. Suddenly, the sounds of LOUD CRICKETS fill the room.

At first, I’m confused as hell. “Is that a white noise machine?” I ask, partially hoping that this is all just some mistake that’s been made. Maybe you're a huge nature fan and this is your ringtone? So, I’m laying there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the great outdoors: crickets chirping, snapping twigs, perhaps a wolf howl off in the distance. I’m really not sure I can fall asleep to this.

But then, you snuggled up next to me. My initial fears subsided and I started to doze off. But instead of a normal doze-off, suddenly I’m reliving my boy scout years of sleeping under the stars during summer camp adventures, except THIS TIME there’s a hot girl on my arm. That certainly never happened at summer camp! AWESOME!

Sleeping in your bed catapults to a whole new level because it’s like we’ve been transported to the middle of Yellowstone National Park without the inconvenience of mosquitoes, rain, or grizzly bear attacks. Hell, we didn't even need to pack travel-sized bottles of shampoo! Admittedly, what I thought was a total bonerkiller on your part turned out to be pretty awesome.

So, ladies, bring on your weird sleeping habits. Bring on your white noise machines. It turns out I’m cool with it. Who knew?

1 comments

Quick Rant: You're Tweeting Too Hard

I know it's hard to keep up: one minute we're all updating our MySpace profiles and saying, "thanks for the add!" And then next thing you know, everyone's packed up and moved to greener, less glittery .giffed pastures. The newest bandwagon social media site, of course, is Twitter. It's not exactly new, but it's reached that weird mainstream point where if the O.C. was still on (R.I.P.), Seth Cohen would have definitely namedropped it ad nauseum already.

So you'd think the 140-character limit would naturally impose some limitations in ways you could annoy people, but Twitter seems to be doing quite well in that regard. So, let's lay down some ground rules:

1. If you're replying to someone's tweet, keep the back-and-forth conversation to maybe two or three tweets tops, any more and you're just texting, EXCEPT WE ALL HAVE TO READ EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR TEXTS. Take it offline, Champ.

2. Stop auto-tweeting. The occasional "Hey, I posted a new blog" is a good reminder, but if your twitter goes off every single time you post another Formspring question on your tumblr page or every time you check into your own house on Foursquare, it's gonna get old real quick.

3. Stop complaining. If every third tweet is about how you had to stay late at work or your coffee wasn't made "just right," just know that all your followers are moments away from making their own complaint about making the decision to follow you.

4. If you're stuck in a really boring situation and the only solution is that you have to livetweet your way through it, it's not an ideal situation for your followers, but I understand. I've been there. Just make sure that every single thing you tweet is fucking hilarious or you're doing it wrong. If you can't deliver on that promise, you're not allowed to livetweet anything.

5. Whoa whoa whoa. Careful with that re-tweet button. I realize that YOU may find all the people you follow extremely interesting, but remember that's why you're the one following them. I'm not. I don't give a shit. Use discretion.

6. Right before you press send on that tweet, just remember that even though it seems like the dashboard is your little private universe, it's not. We're all reading your tweets and judging you for them. We can see your flirtatious tweets to that boy we all know you have a crush on and your boss can see that tweet you just wrote about needing tips on updating your resume. Always think before you tweet, "Is this something I'm comfortable standing up at my cubicle and shouting to everyone in earshot?" If so, tweet away!

Hopefully this makes our twitter lives all a little easier, so I don't have to secretly unfollow you and hope you never notice. With that said, are you following Shmitten Kitten? 'Cause you should.

4 Comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Cry At Movies

Here's another thing about me that a lot of girls say they want in a boyfriend, but haven't really thought through: I cry at movies. Often.

I know you complain about how you want a guy who's unafraid of showing his emotional side, but until you hear my soft whimpering next to you on the couch when we get to the end of whatever romantic comedy we've decided to watch, you might want to be careful what you ask for.

The weird thing is that it's getting worse with age. I've always been a little teary-eyed at movies, but lately, the dumbest, weirdest shit will bring on the waterworks. Hell, a month ago I cried at a Walmart commercial. I'm totally not an over-emotional person and I don't cry at regular everyday life shit, but for some reason, if it's on the TV, it's fair game.

The absolute worst are the movies involving submarines. There's always that one scene in the movie where the water is filling up in the room and they're all trying to get out before the door shuts. Inevitably, there's always one guy who gets left behind in the room and he can't escape. Then you have the dude on the other side of the door shouting things like, "I'm so sorry!" as the room fills up with water. Hollywood has been writing variations of this scene for 50 years now and it turns me into an emotional mess every time.

In your imagination, maybe the crying you're picturing is a single tear dripping down my cheek wiped away tenderly. But what do you do when there's like 50 tears and then there's Kleenex involved? And if we're talking about the series finale of Six Feet Under, we're talking BOXES of Kleenex.

And then, of course, there will come a time when I'm crying at a movie and YOU'RE not. This has already happened more times than I'd like to admit in past relationships and it ranks pretty high on the humiliation scale.

So if you're tough as nails, or can't handle me sobbing my way through another John Cusack movie*, you might just have to cross my name off your list as a potential boyfriend.


*Note: I did cry at the most recent John Cusack film, 2012, but only after realizing I got tricked into paying $12 to see one of the worst pieces of shit I've ever seen.

2 Comments

Tip Our Hats: Your Internet-Self Is On Point

It’s almost a requirement in the dating world nowadays. You meet someone new at a party, you hit it off, and then over the next few days, you do the required Internet due diligence: check the Facebook profile, read her tweets, scope out her blog, all in search of any red flags. Inevitably, there’s always one or two. Maybe she listed a band you can’t believe she’d actually like, or maybe her tweets are filled with typos and abbreviations like “U R 2 COOL”, or maybe she's espousing radical Sarah Palin-style political views on her blog.

What the hell did people do before the Internet allowed you to lurk the various online personas of the person you’re interested in? I guess you had to – gasp – have real-life conversations and find out all this stuff slowly over several weeks? My God, who has time for that?! We are in the digital age, people!

Okay okay, I digress. The point I’m trying to make is that I’ve checked your Facebook profile, your blog, your tweets, and I can’t find a damn thing, not even an unflattering photo you forgot to untag yourself from. You like good music, like the same cheesy movies that I do, and you seem to be constantly doing really cool shit. Come clean: What are you hiding?

After clicking on the 20th cute picture of you at a party that looks way more fun than anything I did last week, now I'm worried about what happens when the tables are turned. Are you checking my Internet shit and judging me? Oh god, what if I don't add up? You've got me agonizing over my next tweet and I just deleted my blog entry defending the artistic merits of Air Supply. I gotta make sure I'm at my digital best for you!

As a person who reveals my faults and embarrasses myself on the Internet on a regular basis, I’m impressed by how buttoned-up you seem to be. Granted, I never got around to checking your Friendster profile, but I assume you’ve got that on lockdown, too. So to all you girls with the hilarious blog entries, correctly-spelled tweets, and artsy photos on your Flickr, I tip my hat to you. Why don’t you and I check in somewhere together on Foursquare soon?

7 Comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: I Can't Cook For Shit

The holidays are upon us. It's the time of year when everyone in their mid-20s starts to feel domestic and cozy as the weather cools down and the Christmas commercials start airing on TV. It's also the time of year when I get invited to potlucks.

The potluck is the winter version of a cookout, except it's easy for me to fake my way through a cookout. Any jackass can throw meat on a grill and wait for it to finish cooking. I'm that jackass.

With a potluck, however, things get complicated. You're expected to bring a legit DISH with INGREDIENTS. I can't tell you the last time I bought ingredients and then used them to make a final product. If it doesn't come in a frozen box, a can, or from a menu, it's probably not mine.

Let's be honest here: years of being single and living with roommates and cooking for one has left me a culinary idiot. I hear people talking about buying organic and eating local foods and I have to laugh, because it's a miracle I'm even eating at all. Every time I open my fridge to find food, it's a little mini-celebration in my head that somehow I managed to not run out of groceries again.

So, unfortunately, that's where you come in. If I'm going to be your boyfriend, I'm sorta counting on you to save my life. It's only a matter of time before these freeze-dried processed high-sodium meals just straight-up kill me. I figure if I find a girlfriend who is a foodie, she could potentially add years to my life. At this rate, I feel like I'm probably clocking out at 65, which doesn't leave a whole lot of time. I need to make it until they at least invent flying cars.

I'm not asking for prepared meals here. This isn't the 1950s. But if we're cooking for two, and I have a co-captain of the kitchen to alert me when I accidentally mix in baking soda instead of baking powder, the whole thing is gonna go a whole lot smoother. I'm going to need a hell of a lot of training, because right now I can do scrambled eggs and that's about it.

So, if you're up for the challenge of teaching a totally inept dude how to cook for himself, then we're in business. On the other hand, if you'd be embarrassed that I have no idea how to pick out produce, am totally reckless with a kitchen knife, and consider Ritz crackers with peanut butter a legitimate meal option, then I'm afraid I'd make a bad boyfriend.

5 Comments

Things That Make Me A Bad Boyfriend: Car Stereo Control Issues

As we head into the cool fall months, I usually think of mix CDs and long drives through the country. Here in Virginia, it's awesome to get out of the city for the weekend and go see the leaves change color and maybe go find a hike somewhere.

Nothing "bad boyfriend" about any of that, right? Well, kinda. You might not even notice it at first. It's kind of a subtle thing, but eventually you'll catch on--and hate me for it. On the way out the door for a drive, whether it's a six-hour roadtrip to NYC or a 5-minute drive to Taco Bell, I will always have an overabundance of music with me. Usually it's a stack of CDs or my iPod, but it's always something. What's the reason, you ask? I must have control over the car stereo. I didn't even notice it myself, until an ex-girlfriend called me out on it and called me "secret controlling." That's when I realized she was totally right.

Whenever there's a group outing, I'm always the one who volunteers to drive, no matter what. As soon as we hop in the car, I have music at the ready. It's like I'm DJing my own life and I don't want anyone else to have a turn. It's totally ridiculous and I can't stop myself from doing it.

My worst nightmare is a passenger pulling out a CD from their bag and saying "Have you heard _________ yet? It's totally amazing. We should listen to this." That person instantly becomes my mortal enemy and I'll probably hate the band strictly on principle.

I noticed it's getting worse on a recent multi-day roadtrip I took with my brother. He doesn't put up with my controlling shit, so we had agreed to take turns with the car stereo. I'd get to listen to two records, then he'd get two. It worked for a while, but then I found myself totally copping out. He'd be napping in the passenger seat and I'd lie to him when he woke up about how many records I'd played. When he was listening to something I particularly disliked, I'd use the excuse that I was "getting tired behind the wheel" and needed to listen to something I knew and could sing along to.

This is a totally ridiculous problem, right? I've never met anyone else who does this. This is probably because I always volunteer to drive, so I never even have the chance to ride in anyone else's car long enough to find out if they have the same issue

So, fair warning, if we date, we'd better have the exact same taste in music because I'm going to secretly control the car stereo and it might just annoy the hell out of you. And, in turn, that will make me a bad boyfriend.

4 Comments

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]

7 Comments

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!]

1 comments