Posted in:
September 5, 2008 2:00 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
I'm pretty stupid. But I know how to look smart. So I'm going
to share how I do it so that you can all succeed in looking smart with
your significant others and their friends/family.
We think, to
look intelligent, we need to be an expert on something. Maybe. But
wouldn't it be better to be able to talk about anything at any time
with anybody? How smart would you look then?
So, here it is:
It is better to learn a little bit about many things, than it is to learn a lot about a few things.
Have
I ever proved the hypothesis? Of course! I go to sources like
Wikipedia learning interesting factoids that can be applied anywhere.
My
first girlfriend's dad was an architect. We had just learned about
Ancient Rome in school when I went to meet him for the first time. I
smoothly hit him with this line:
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Posted in:
September 3, 2008 11:10 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
The other night I was eating corn on the cob and feeling very happy I was not on a date because I looked like a rat gnawing on a typewriter spool. It inspired me to write up the worst first date foods, complete with a handy dandy legend for quick reference…
Legend
M = Messy
NR = Makes nose run
U = Unwieldy
F = Gas Producing (could be applied to any food really)
C = Cheap/thoughtless
A = Alters your appearance
PSYCH = Plays with your mind
NA = Noise Alert!
Spaghetti (M, U)- Choose your pasta wisely! Pasta comes in all shapes and sizes, so there are safe choices like penne. But avoid spaghetti. My Italian grandmother was adept at twisting her fork into a mound of spaghetti and pulling it out in a nice, manageable ball. I never picked up that skill. So, if you can’t get that spaghetti to cooperate on your fork, you are left to suck the loose dangling ends into your mouth like a vacuum cleaner over a worm farm. Pasta sauce only complicates matters. Loose ends of spaghetti left to their own devices hanging out of your mouth will act like octopus tentacles slinging sauce all over everything, including your date.
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Posted in:
September 1, 2008 2:34 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
We’ve already seen that levels of commitment can compare with the Terrorist Warning System. Well, the other day I was thinking I could break it down even further. We can group different dates into tiers. Furthermore, attacking one of these tiers too fast can lead to disaster for a guy.
One Xmas, my sister got airline tickets from her boyfriend for a trip to Italy. I was impressed with the gift, but my sister had a lukewarm reaction. Unfortunately he had done what my friends and I refer to as “TFTF” – “Too far, too fast”. My sister and her boyfriend were broken up soon thereafter.
So, I’d like to lay out my dating pyramid and solicit your advice—not only on whether I’ve divided them up correctly, but also on the timing of when you think I can move to the next tier.
TIER ONE (One to Three Months In)
This is the beginning stage. Things are pretty sensitive here. It’s easy to overwhelm and look too interested or too fired up…or to go TFTF. I would assume keep things simple, almost cliché. Stick to dates that girls are used to, and places they feel comfortable:
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Posted in:
August 28, 2008 9:17 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
My one experience with spanking was in a New Orleans “strip club”. When I say “strip club”, I’m giving this place way too much credit. The little place where my friend and I ended up was basically an outhouse with really scary red lighting. It was like a haunted darkroom.
During our cross country trip, we figured in New Orleans, we must visit a strip club in the French Quarter. You know you’re in trouble when you’re a tourist trying out strip clubs. Strip clubs are not to be “sampled” casually.
It really felt like there were only four of us in this little building that we entered: Me, my friend, and two of the most unattractive strippers I’ve ever seen, giving us what they referred to as “lap dances”.
I don’t really understand lap dances. When I’m with a stripper there is an invisible wall. So, while a stripper is gyrating over me, I lean back and pray that I don’t inadvertently touch her. I’m totally on the defensive.
Often I find a pair of boobs shoved in my face. This is one of those things that you always think you want to happen and then when it happens, you realize you just don’t want it to be happening.
My stripper shoved her boobs into my face and everything went dark.
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Posted in:
August 25, 2008 9:00 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
Some of my girlfriends are confused about how these guys who have hurt them before seem to re-appear in their lives. I’ve written about why they disappear, so here is why they re-appear, and how you should handle it:
1. He truly realizes he made a mistake and he wants you back. Never rule out that the guy is being true when he returns and intends to make an effort to stay together. The key is to remember that he did leave once, and he must prove his intentions. And remember actions speak louder than words. He’ll come back saying all the right things, but, you should demand a standard of treatment. Make him prove himself multiple times before you let your guard down. Plus, making it tough for him to get back in will make him respect you more and not take you for granted. I’d hate to say it, but if guys can play dirty, girls can too: use the fact that he hurt you by leaving against him as he tries to prove himself.
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Posted in:
August 21, 2008 5:26 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
The first time I ever felt a girl up I was in seventh grade and it happened outside of the gym at a dance. It was a strange experience-there were a few guys who took turns feeling the girl up. It was very mechanical, and unemotional except for maybe some nerves and confusion.
The following Monday, rumor got all around our school that this girl had gone outside and let us all feel her up. The effects were devastating for the girl. After this, I took a hiatus from feeling girls up-maybe because it wasn't that great at the time, or maybe just because I couldn't get any. But, as it turned out, if anyone wanted to feel a girl up, they could go to this girl who we all felt up outside of that dance.
A few years later I found out that this girl, who had left our school, ended up hooked on heroin and generally broken. She had also gotten very promiscuous.
I often wondered if she would have gotten into drugs and been promiscuous if she had not been involved in this experience with my friends and I, and then been disrespected immediately the following Monday after we felt her up.
Am I making too big a deal out of this experience in her life?
I've been thinking about promiscuity and how it is most likely linked to someone's life situation. Unfortunately, we are in a society that does not vilify men as much for sleeping around. The nickname "player" for a man does not carry the same stigma as the word "slut" which we use for a promiscuous woman.
So, this has to be linked to some deep psychological experience or collection of experiences.
My theory is that the combination of any of the following can contribute to promiscuous behavior:
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Posted in:
August 20, 2008 11:27 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
I've always admired those guys who hit on girls anywhere. But, I've got a specific list of rules I will not break. There are just some places I won't hit on a girl.
This is a bit crippling though. Should I be hitting on girls everywhere I go? If I see an attractive girl, perhaps I should seize the opportunity.
Here's a list of bad places to hit on girls:
The Gym
I think we are all at the gym for similar reasons: to improve ourselves, to stay in shape, etc. I get so unhappy when I see super buff cheeseball hitting on some poor girl who is obviously trying to get her workout in. I hate every minute I spend in the gym. I want to get in, do whatever, and get out. The last thing I'd want to do is prolong some girl's gym experience with my crap. It's the most awkward when a girl is blatantly on something like a stair-climber and some guy is leaning against it trying to get digits.
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Posted in:
August 18, 2008 9:35 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
The other day I came across this interesting article and I was astonished that a man was suing a woman for getting herpes from her.
What if we could sue anyone we wanted for any reason pertaining to our failing love lives? Better yet, what if we could ask for restitution in the event we win the case.
Here are all the people (and animal) I would sue, and what I'd ask for to alleviate the mental and financial anguish they caused...
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Posted in:
August 14, 2008 1:00 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
So Marieclairevoyant has constructed a video response to
my question. If you don’t see the player
below, you can click here to view it.
I agreed with some of the things she had to say, but I
disagreed with some things. Here are my
thoughts on her response:
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Posted in:
August 11, 2008 2:08 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
As most of you know by now, I'm pretty skittish when it comes to sexual encounters. I usually worry, and I usually expect too much. This is probably why I still haven't had great sex.
I never thought that trying something kind of different would help me, but maybe it would. Hell, I might as well. I didn't take my chance I was offered when I worked at Fashion Week by the catering girl who wanted to get it on right at the event.
But one time, I did go with the moment and, at the very least, it helped me create a good answer for the question:
Where's the craziest place you ever had sex?
It happened with my girlfriend in college. We went out to dinner one night at Kate's, one of the popular University of Delaware hangouts. I remember leaving dinner with a huge shopping bag full of food we didn't finish. We were walking down Main Street toward our houses when she told me she had to use the bathroom.
We were right by Old College, one of the stateliest buildings on campus. But we were very close to our houses too. In those days short times and distances seemed so long, so we ended up on the first floor of Old College, in barely lit hallways around 9PM.
I hung out in the hallway with my shopping bag full of food while she used the bathroom. She came out and, for some reason, instead of walking out we decided to check out one of the classrooms. I had never been in a classroom at night (I hadn't been in many by the light of day either).
We were kind of hanging out in the corner of the classroom by a window when I noticed her giving me that look. That look is the look of desire that even the most clueless of guys (like me) can figure out. So, we started making out right at the windowsill of Old College in the classroom and it quickly escalated into sex.
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Posted in:
August 10, 2008 5:14 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
Remember language
classes, where the teacher attempted to steer you away from translating between
languages word-for-word? Well, I really
sucked at learning foreign languages. I
couldn’t grasp the idea that I had to just immerse myself into the language and
stop thinking of everything in English terms.
Women and
men certainly speak different languages. Most of my life has been spent trying to understand what women mean when
they say things. I’ve applied the
Foreign Language Rule to females: don’t
translate what they say word-for-word into Male.
Now that
I’m not trying to see everything in Man language, I have been able to translate
two very confusing and common breakup lines from women. If I can continue to figure out how to
translate like I have done with these two lines, maybe some day I will become
fluent in Woman.
READ MORE
Posted in:
August 8, 2008 6:15 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
I’ve been trying to figure out why I struggle so much with PDA (Public
Display of Affection). I have it pretty bad: kissing on the cheek,
holding hands, arm around a girl or hand on her lower back, is about as
far as I’ll go.
It’s taken me a while to accept seeing PDA—as long as it’s not
disgusting—and by disgusting I mean over-the-top tongue lashing,
slipping hands in clothing, or anything that gets so intense I can hear
it (grunts, moans, etc.)
In order to learn to accept couples who partaking in PDA, I tapped the
inner poser in me. In Europe, couples are amorous in public all the
time. Anything European is cool. Therefore, in my eternal quest to be
cool—which is just one big failing campaign—I decided that because PDA
is common in Europe, I’ll just accept it and walk by couples making out
as if I’m cool with it.
But I’ll never be able to do PDA with a girl.
My girlfriend in college used to lecture me all the time.
“Why can’t you hold me and kiss me when we are in public?”
Like that was going to work. With me, just hope for the best and don’t
make me feel awkward about something I already feel awkward about.
Here are my hypotheses on why I can’t do PDA:
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Posted in:
August 4, 2008 2:43 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
Today I’m watching a pretty weekend storm outside, by myself of
course. I’ve been having moments of weakness, listening to Bob Seger
(you know you’ve fallen into weakness when you start doing that). But,
aside from obsessively playing along with the opening chords on my
guitar, I’ve been analyzing the lyrics to the song. And on my favorite lyrics site, I see that other users are having the same reactions to this song: It’s heart-wrenching and uplifting at the same time.
The song reminds me of why it’s so hard for me to fall in love. I
touched on this before when I suggested that it was harder to have
romance in your life when you have responsibility and practicality
injected into it.
Seger’s song is about a teenage summer romance:
“We weren't in love oh no far from it
We weren't searching for some pie in the sky summit
We were just young and restless and bored
Living by the sword
And we'd steal away every chance we could
To the backroom, the alley, the trusty woods
I used her she used me
But neither one cared
We were getting our share
Workin' on our night moves
Trying to lose the awkward teenage blues”
My fundamental problem right now is that I’m still restless and bored.
There is still a lot to learn in life, but most of my peers are
settling down and I’m expected to do the same. I’m just not ready for
all that yet.
READ MORE
Posted in:
August 1, 2008 3:49 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
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Posted in:
July 30, 2008 10:00 AM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
As you can tell, I’ve had a really tough time finding the right girl. I’m a huge fan of true crime stories and I’ve seen a lot of instances where the police, at wit’s end, will turn to a psychic to help solve a crime.
You all have really helped with your advice and thoughts, and I hope you continue to help. But I’m still at wit’s end.
Remember how I mentioned the Marie Claire psychic around the 4th of July? Well, I finally got the courage (she looks rather intimidating in her picture) to make a quick video for her so she can share her clairvoyant thoughts. Hopefully, she can tell me who I’m going to end up with, and when I will meet this girl. If you have questions about anything in your life, you should ask her and maybe she can help you out.
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Posted in:
July 28, 2008 3:04 PM by Rich Santos | COMMENTS
I started masturbating in 7th grade. The ammo was a tattered 1978
Playboy. After a bunch of times looking through it without incident, I
eventually just found myself masturbating without even realizing it
and—boom—it happened.
I was so happy because a lot of the older boys on my soccer team would
talk about masturbating and I had no stories to share until I finally
did it.
Of course, my anxiety took over after I did it for the first time. I
was convinced that I was shooting blanks: either very few sperm or
none at all! My parents had an old fashioned microscope in their
office at home. I decided I would take a drop of whatever was coming
out and take a closer look. So, one day I made a slide, took a look
and…blurriness. Results inconclusive…
My masturbation habits grew exponentially in high school. Man, I was
so fit in those days. Lazy summer afternoons would produce two to four
masturbation sessions. Throughout high school, despite the other guys
talking about it, I was so worried that I was the only guy in the
school that masturbated as much as I did. I worried that if anyone
knew how much I did it, they would think I was a perverted freak.
By the time college rolled around, I was totally comfortable. In fact,
my roommate senior year and I were so comfortable with each other that
one of us would say to the other:
“Dude, I just need about five minutes…”
READ MORE
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