Please hold down the run button

One of the downsides to being a gamer and dating a non-gamer is that you will get mad at your girlfriend for stupid things.

Yesterday Amy was playing New Super Mario Bros on my DS and she wouldn't hold down the run button. Anybody who's played Mario knows that the first rule of any 2d Mario game is hold down the fucking run button, right? Well she didn't, and she was falling into pits and running out of time and not listening when I told her to hold down the fucking run button.

I don't think I'm being unreasonable here. This would be like if she got me to eat some crap she saw on the Food Network and I just put it in my mouth and didn't chew it. I'd say 'Don't worry, it'll go down eventually, I just don't feel like chewing,' while she's screaming at me, 'fucking chew with your mouth you idiot, this is going to take forever!'

Yeah, well maybe you should hold down the run button next time you go through the Mushroom Kingdom, you bitch.

(work.)

Valentine's Day gifts misinterpreted

Happy Valentine's Day!

Here are some gifts you can give your girlfriend and the ways she can misinterpret what you mean by giving them:
Flowers - They're pretty but expensive and temporary, just like our relationship. Expect both to be dead in a few days.
Chocolates - Eat up, fatty.
A kitten - You're incapable of managing a child, so here's the first of many cats.
A poem - I don't like you enough to spend money on you. Plus, maybe I'm gay.
A song - I'd rather play the guitar than spend money on you.
Lingerie - Dimming the lights isn't helping you look better, so let's try something else. Something lacy.
A book - Boring people like boring stuff, right?

Enjoy your day, everybody, and if you're single and feeling down, just remember that in times like this there's nothing a little self lovin' won't cure. You know what I mean.

(work.)

I mean you should masturbate. A lot.

What "It's Complicated" really means

I think having the option of putting 'It's Complicated' as your relationship status on Facebook is a clever idea. As a general status, it can effectively broadcast to the internet that you may not be ready to meet new people.

However, unless you're using it ironically, I don't understand why you'd put 'It's Complicated with (actual person with which it is complicated).' Isn't that saying, 'HEY INTERNET, MY RELATIONSHIP IS HAVING PROBLEMS'? Why share that?

While we're on the subject of Facebook letting people share too much, you should also have to put down why you broke up with somebody. 'Mary broke up with Pete because he ass banged her best friend.' or 'Derek broke up with Sarah because she farted in bed.' People need questions answered, and they should be answered honestly and awkwardly.

And I think Facebook should talk about ass banging more.

(nap.)

If you want the internet to know that your personal life is having problems but you don't want to show it through Facebook, you can always go with something just as good:

Sad lyrics in your away message!

Here are some tips:

1. Try to find a song that talks about the way things used to be.
2. Find lyrics that rhyme "heart" with "torn apart" if at all possible, and
3. for the love of Christ, italicize your font and put it on a colored background.
4. Lastly, delude yourself into thinking that nobody will notice how openly sad you are. Think other people will think "That person is just listening to music" and ignore the fact that all evidence should make them think "That person is having an emotional breakdown in addition to really bad taste in music."

If you follow those simple steps, soon all your friends will know how sad you are and maybe they'll all tell you how great you are. Or stop calling. Not my problem, really.

Good luck!

Thank God she was ugly

When I was in 8th grade, I had one of those middle school relationships. Ya know, there's a girl that you call a lot and you both have crushes on each other and sometimes, when things get hot and heavy, you hold hands and walk around the mall.

Well, I didn't see her in person all that much 'cause she lived a couple towns over, but when I did I kinda thought, 'ugh, she's not too good lookin'.' That soon led to 'Oh crap, does this mean I'm gay?'

Then a year later I got a different girlfriend, and we made out a lot, and I thought 'Whew, I guess the first one was just ugly. Thank God.'

(work.)

First Girlfriend, if you're reading this, I'm sure you were just going through an ugly duckling phase and now you've matured into a beautiful swan, your lovely brown eyes matched only by your long white neck and bright orange beak.

Apparently she had sex with strangers

One of the problems with being a nice guy is that when you're single, women tend to overlook you as a potential candidate in the Election for Vaginal President.

A girl may tell you that you're just like a friend from home, and just because you remind her of someone who has always been a friend, you'll always be a friend, too.

She'll think of you as a friend she never dated, but you don't want that, do you? In fact, you want the exact opposite. You want to be a stranger that she has sex with all the time.

You want this:
'Hey lady, you ready for sex?'
'Yes, but I don't want to know your name.'
'Okay, let's get to work.'

Am I right?

(work.)

Pfffft, that figures. You take the time to get to know a girl and then it turns out she consistently bangs anonymous dudes, and you're not one of them.

Somehow being one of those dudes would ease the pain of really, really liking a huge slut.

Hi, I'm Nuggets

Before I'd met Amy's father, she told him my last name was Birdseye (like the frozen food company my great grandfather founded) so he started calling me Niblets. At the time, I had no clue what niblets were because that is a stupid word and I would not want to use it regularly. (Niblets are bits of corn, I think. If a niblet expert can help me out here, that'd be appreciated.)

Before I met her father, I asked Amy what he called me. 'Nuggets,' I think. So when I introduced myself to Amy's dad, I said 'Hi, I'm Nuggets.' Then he asked me if I was nuggets with or without the sauce and we proceeded to exchange some really bad dialogue about nuggets.

Later, as we were walking away from her dad, I asked Amy, 'You sure he called me Nuggets? Now that I think about it, that has nothing to do with frozen food the name Birdseye.'
'Oh shit, he called you Niblets.'
'So I just introduced myself as Nuggets for nothing?'
'Yep.'
'Damn.'

(Tally Hall.)

As soon as Amy's dad asked me if I was Nuggets with or without sauce, I felt sick. He wanted to run with the nickname I'd just accidentally given myself. I felt like an idiot talking about whether I had sauce. "Hey Nuggets, do you have sauce?" No matter whether I said, "Yes, I have sauce," or "No, I don't need sauce," I would have hated myself for contributing to this conversation. Running with the "Henry is Nuggets" line of thought made me cringe, but I had to run with it because I didn't want to make a bad impression with Amy's father.

Had I refused the sauce conversation and run with my instincts, things would have gone something like this:
"You're Nuggets, huh? Are those the nuggets with sauce?"
"Hold on just a sec. I'm going to go drown myself in the restroom."
"Take your time, Nuggets."
(pause)
(a toilet flushes, and I am no more)

Amy's family is like Snakes on a Plane

Today I'm meeting Amy's dad's side of the family at a BBQ. I was worrying about what I should wear and whether I should keep my sweet beard or not. Then Amy's mom left me a voicemail that relieved some of the pressure:

'Hey, don't dress up. You don't even have to shower. These people aren't prizes, so don't worry about it.'

I think more stuff should work that way.

'Don't worry about that job interview. The guy asking you questions is a stupid dog fucker, and rumor has it he's legally retarded.'

'That piano recital tonight is going to be cake, man. The audience is fat and tone deaf, and I, your instructor, drown Hurricane Katrina survivors every Thursday. You know, because I'm a terrible person whose opinion should not matter to you. Relax.'

So, less pressure, even if I'm apparently meeting people who suck.

(first impressions.)

Man, now that I've actually met these people, I can safely say that yes, they were all assholes. I should have just rolled out of bed, driven to Amy's house, and started hugging strangers so I could go home sooner.

Nah, just kidding, they were all nice people and I had a good time.

Meeting Amy's dad's side of the family was kind of like seeing Snakes on a Plane. I was told it was going to suck, and then it was pretty good, and that made the whole thing seem great.

Meeting Amy's family was also like Snakes on a Plane because they charged me 8 dollars at the door and then we all sat in the dark for two hours.

Two words for easier dating

Guys, you tired of using conventional methods of attracting women? Sick of buying cologne, holding doors open, and taking showers? Well then, I've got two words for you:

Stockholm syndrome.

Kidnap a girl, then let her chill in your basement for a while. She'll be eating out of your hands in no time. In fact, she'll be doing that as soon as you kidnap her, because you'll have duct taped her arms to an office chair.

(work.)

Alternative ending: "She'll be eating out of your hands in no time, just as soon as you take the sock out of her mouth."

I don't know how some people can read some away messages that say things like, "Laundry!" or "around" and then be perfectly fine reading my away messages which are more to the tune of "Kidnap a woman and then she'll be your girlfriend!" or "Rich people like to poop!" I think that, to your brain, that's like getting out of a hot tub and then rolling around in the snow. It'd put your brain into shock so that it starts crapping all over itself.

How do you like that, loyal reader(s)? Your brains have anuses.

Chew on that while I'm over here with a non-pooping brain, lovin' life and feelin' fine.

An inappropriate interracial dating club

Facebook recently told me that a friend of mine got a girlfriend. I was very glad to hear that he'd finally found a woman worthy of his wit, charm, and genitals.

And when I noticed that she was African American, I felt the need to share in his joy by messaging him with, 'Congrats, buddy! My first girlfriend was half black! We should start a club!'

But no, I won't say that, because I can't think of a good name for the 'We have formerly or are currently dating women that are of at least 50% African American heritage' club.

Plus, that's kinda racist.

(Food in the basement!)

Hot piece of bass

During last night's drunken shenanigans, I gave Amy a call and tried to say sweet things to her:
'Amy, there are a lot of fish in the sea, and I'm glad I've got you. All those other bitches are just minnows. You're a hot piece of bass.'

Of course, that's me remembering it while sober. When I actually said that (the pun was spontaneous, by the way), there's a chance I only mentioned the concepts and butchered the delivery. I could have said:
'You're the only fish I want to have sex with.'

And, knowing Amy, she would have laughed. Best fish to have sex with, indeed.

(Giving Mom a card.)

I bought my mom flowers from Farmer Jack (I am classy), then when I gave them to her she said, "Oh, they're so pretty" and pulled them toward herself. Then I realized that I'd forgotten to remove the price tag, so I pulled the flowers back so I could remove it.

"Oh yeah, hey, look at these flowers. They sure are nice. I'll get them ready, you find a vase."

You have to let your mom feel like she's worth the world, not just the $29.99 you spent on flowers at the grocery store on your way home.

Using the L-word with her mother, too

I went shopping for Mother's Day cards today, and since I try to be a good boyfriend, I got a card for my girlfriend's mom, too.

However, there was a problem: A vast majority of Mother's Day cards say, 'I love you.' Am I at a stage in my relationship with my girlfriend's mom where I feel comfortable saying 'I love you'? What if she doesn't love me back? Have we known each other long enough? We haven't even had sex yet!

So I'm thinking I'll cross out 'love' with 'like' so things don't get weird. Only downgrading verbs is weird enough, so, fuck. I guess I'll just settle for a less serious card that features a bad pun as its punchline.

(pants.)

I'll help you scan documents, fix your life, etc.

Last summer while working in the computer lab, a woman asked me if I could help her scan some documents. While we waited for the scanner to scan 30something pages of a pdf that was probably already online, this woman started asking me for advice.

For example, she told me she caught her man in bed with a bisexual woman, and she asked me if she should believe that he's not in love with her, and if love can overcome this.

I hope this summer that this lady has all sorts of oddball shit going on in her life. I hope her boyfriend has sex with a varsity girls softball team and she walks in on him and twenty high school seniors.

Then I hope her man convinces her that they're all just friends, and that she needs to get to the nearest computer lab to talk about her problems to a guy who just wanted to help her scan some fucking documents.

(Work, 7:30-11:30.)

I like how she referred to him as "her man." That type of lexicon is usually reserved for oppressed women dressed like beekeepers. Or women that hang out in da club. Ya know, the big booty bitches.

Personality over looks, my ass

This morning the news reported that when polled, men claim to want a great personality instead of a nice body when looking for the ideal woman.

That survey didn't prove a goddamn thing. If anything, it just proves that when polled in a survey situation, men will report to want personality over looks. You want honest results? Have them fill out those survey scantrons with their penises.

The news just wanted to make people happy with this survey because nobody thinks they have a bad personality. They say 'guys want personality' and EVERY woman will think, 'whew, I'm desirable, even if I'm fat,' and then they'll feel better about themselves.

...at least until they're thrown into a panic by the next headline, which is about the seven household items that may be giving you hepatitis while you sleep.

(Work.)

No man's ever had an intellectual discussion with a girl and then gotten really horny because she made a funny joke about Socrates. However, if she's already hot: bonus. If she's ulgy: then let's just talk online or something, funny ugly girl. I will accept your jokes as long as they do not involve eye contact.

Now I feel like any platonic lady friends that read this are going to suddenly get offended because I just said, "Ugly chicks, see you on the internet." A quick clarification before I end this post: I talk to most people I know on the internet, or so my overflowing buddy list would imply. If I talk to you online but we don't hang out, it's not because you're ugly. It's because the internet is a medium of communication that lets me talk to many, many people from anywhere in the world without me having to put pants on.

Also, you're ugly.

Diarrhea milkshakes for your loved one

Sometimes your girlfriend is going to feel down. Now, you can ask her to talk about her problems, many of which cannot be solved with words, OR you can comfort her by talking about poop and farts. Guess which one I use.

I believe the term I found most reliable was 'diarrhea milkshake,' used in the phrase, 'Aww, sweetie, why don't you have a diarrhea milkshake to make you feel better?'

So guys, if your woman's feeling down, just talk to her about combining nasty poop with ice cream. That takes the problem from, 'Life is sad sometimes' to 'That's fucking disgusting. Please don't talk about diarrhea milkshakes.' And come on, it's a funny, so she'll probably laugh.

If she doesn't, dump her. She must respect the diarrhea milkshake. Or drink one.

(bed.)

One of these days I'm going to run a tally on how many away messages revolve around poop, farts, and/or butts.

Exercise, ladies

While making small talk at the Cojum Dip concert on Sunday, it was discovered that a woman there not only went to the Dirty Show in Detroit (an art show dedicated to filthy sex pieces), but that she knew my father, too.

So I told my dad this and he got really excited. 'Wow! A woman knew my name! That's just awesome! What was her name?'
I didn't remember her name, so he asked what she looked like. I waffled around for a couple minutes before settling on the fact that she was kinda fat.

Well, that killed the excitement. 'Oh yeah, I know who that is.' No more questions after that.

The moral of the story is EXERCISE, LADIES (and guys, too, but you're ok if you at least have money).

(Work, class, beer, SMASH BROS TOURNAMENT.)

Also, before you internet strangers go assuming my parents are in some freaky open marriage arrangement, know that they're divorced, which is just about the opposite of freaky.

Also also, you big ladies don't have to exercise. Just get some distinguishing characteristic to take the attention away from your huge ass. This can include: a mole, a bald spot, a wooden tooth, a hump in your back, or a penis.

Pepper spray for Valentine's Day

I got my girlfriend pepper spray for Valentine's Day.

I think that's a thousand times better than flowers or chocolates or anything else that dies or goes to your hips within a couple weeks. Pepper spray says, 'Don't get assaulted, because I love you.' And the 'I love you' part drives it home, taking her mind off the fact that you just gave her a weapon for Valentine's Day

Also, thirty minutes with Photoshop and Google images yielded this sentimental gem.


You know you're loved when you receive a gift that can make a would-be attacker fall to his knees and claw at his own eyes. Beat that, heart-shaped box of chocolates.

(Bed.)

Next holiday she's getting karate lessons.

Meet Your Future Wife in a Burning Building

I think what depresses me about bars is that hopefully nothing that happens there will be long-lasting. I'd be sad if I asked my parents where they met and their story went something like:
'Oh yeah, son, I saw your mother at the bar and I thought, 'Hey, I'd bang that,' so I bought her whatever beer was on special. Then when she was drunk enough to make eye contact with me, I took her home and we had some sex. Then she missed her period, we got married, and you were born.'

There isn't much magic about yelling to someone in a loud, smoky room. I want to rescue my future wife from a burning building.

Amy just read this and said, 'I don't want to be in a burning building.' Well, I guess we know who's not marrying me, then. She now says:
'I guess we know who's not getting any tonight, too.'

Damn.

(class.)

I didn't make this connection when I first typed this, but both bars and burning hospitals are filled with smoky rooms. However, with burning hospitals, there's a sense of urgency, but with bars, you're just yelling at people sitting a few feet away from you because the bad music they're playing is too goddamn loud.

Basically what I'm saying is that if you're trying to meet a woman at a bar, spice up the night by setting the shitty live band on fire and rescuing the pretty lady at the bar. If shortly after giving her CPR you find out she has a boyfriend, throw her back in. "I saved you to get some poontang, lady, now go have your precious boyfriend resuscitate you after you pass out from smoke inhalation."

Also, for the record, I would never set a bar on fire, rescue a hot lady stranger, ask her if she has a boyfriend, then throw her back into the flames when she says yes. This is because I have a girlfriend, thank you very much, and she'd probably get really mad if I saved another woman. So ladies, if you're on fire and I don't rescue you, it's nothing personal.

Verizon shall ruin all long-distance relationships

Cell phones will cause more fights in a long distance relationship than anything else.

You know a relationship is having trouble when both people start saying things like, 'I'm sorry' all the time and it seems like the other person doesn't listen to you anymore. But the thing with cell phones is, you end up saying shit like, 'I'm sorry, honey, I couldn't hear you,' all the time, so both people end up sounding like apologetic deaf people.

They say communication is the most important thing in a relationship, and if you both of you have bad cell phone service providers, you are fucked. I don't care how compatible you are: if you're getting less than three service bars, you're going to come off as a dick. It'll be like you and your lover have to speak to each other through a McDonald's drive thru window, and that's just fucked up.

(Class.)

And you better make sure you're with the same service provider or there's no way you two are lasting.

Pay a babysitter and go bang college dudes

I got the override that I needed from Professor Hoeffner. However, he never said his name; he kept referring to himself as 'I' and 'me' instead. And while that's admirably first-person of him, I still have no idea how to address this man.

My buddy Future hooked up with a 30 year old woman with two kids. Meaning he got with the mom, not the mom while she was with the two kids.

The thing is, my buddy Jon also got with a 30 year old woman with two kids. This makes me want to meet the woman, but I'm afraid she'd try to do me, seeing as she seems to have a thing for guys my age.

I don't know where I'm going with this, I'm just saying it's weird that a woman would think 'Hey I'm at an age where I need to be responsible, so I think I'll pay a babysitter and go bang college dudes.'

(Amy, Dinner, Tally Hall, ???.)

The beard connection

Amy's mom is making meat loaf, which is great, because I love loaves of all sorts. Her father, however does not like me, possibly because I'm not a scientist or a lawyer or a doctor and basically I'm just some punk who's going to ruin his daughter's future.

However, because of finals and work I have indirectly provided myself a way to way to connect with him: beards.

I have a stress beard. And from this, I can have that girlfriend's-father-to-boyfriend talk about beards. Where my beard is going, how I found it, what others think of it. He can talk about his beard, and we can laugh and the meatloaf dinner will be a success, all because of beards.

Thanks, beards!

(Facial hair and rectangular meat.)