Posts Tagged ‘“106 Cheap and Creative Dates (For The Upcoming Depression)”’

Addendappendices: Reclaim Your Wasted Time

August 31 2011

106 addendappendices

Reclaim Your Wasted Time

So it didn’t work out. So you wasted 6 mos / 1 year / 1 year and 1 half / your entire life and now have nothing to show for it. So you’re haunted by The Things You Did And Didn’t Do, both the actual things and the song requiemming them.1 What are you going to do about it? You could get mad– at yourself, at them, at the homosexual agenda for not destroying the institution of marriage (and with it, the monogamous relationship) sooner.2

But none of these will do any good. Your time has already been wasted, and with that waste3 comes pomfrets: the delicious french fried school of time-nibbling fishes– particles, actually– that are ionized from the decay of wasted time!

Act V, Scene V

Stupid pomfret-- you eat time, not ghosts!

These particles affix to receptors in the brain, instilling a false sense of sub-euphoric placidity. As more time is wasted, more particles collect in your brian, and new levels of non-discontentedness are reached. Life becomes steady, sufficient. Your internal clock is slow-wound. Years pass to no benefit or accomplishment but you don’t notice.

Eventually too many particles build up in your brain and the whole thing bursts in a chroneurysm. The hands of your internal clock snap forward to their rightful place in an instant, skipping over weeks, months, years. The resulting shift is accompanied by outgassed seeps of panic and anxiety. Inert time bubbles deep suffocating regret upon your full realization of exactly what you’ve lost.4

You’ve trenched.

In order to recover, the time you converted into (complete, utter) waste must be treated, converted back into clean memories through one of the reclamation processes listed below. MUST.

Embrace the things you did do; don’t regret the things you didn’t
         Dumb. The things you did, fatalistically speaking, were the bare minimum that could have happened,6 and the things you didn’t do will always, always be your fault.7

Embrace the things you didn’t do; negate the things you did
         Getting better. It’s best not to embrace the things you did as you will soon realize how truly few they really were. For such a significant chunk of your life, how few moments you were able to cultivate/birth. 26, 28 tops. Furthermore, you’ll have to face just how underwhelming most of those moments actually are when removed from the context of your mutual affection. AND, triple whammy,8 the genuinely incredible, god is great, life-validating moments will loom even larger in comparison and eclipse your still-wasting life. Best to let all of that decay.9

         By holding on to your regrets and weaving them into a kind of heavy, mutli-pelt (non-matching, poorly sewn) winter coat, you can insulate yourself from potential human suitors/suitresses, thus protecting yourself from ever having regrets again.

Did you do anything you regret too much?
         Reverse do it! Literally! Whatever it was you did, do exactly that but backwards! Serious!

Note: I’ve been advised by my attorney to insist that you first fully consider what this would actually entail and how your actions would affect those around you and also to not ever reverse do anything under any circumstances ever.

Start living double time
         One path to reclamation is to live your life double hard until you’ve made up for lost time. Would you have had three drinks that night? Have six! Would you have driven five mph over the speed limit in order to make it home in time for 30 rock? Drive sixty mph over the speed limit!10 In order to make it home in time for 60 rocks! Would you have had sex twice? Jerk off two hundred and thirty eight times.11

         Once you’ve done this for half the life of your relationship you will have completely caught up with all the time you lost! Now to recapture the time you lost while recapturing your lost time, repeat for 1/4th the life of the relationship. Then 1/8th. Then 1/16th. Then zig instead of zag and live five times as hard for 1/17th the life of the relationship. Ha! Suck it, Zeno. Paradox? More like Pair-a-dicks! In your mouth!12

It was all an elaborate rube goldberg device by which your initial kiss was converted, over 10,000 steps, into a pile of shit
         Just say it. Like you mean it. Over and Over.

         Rowling. Build that Rube Goldberg machine– a replica of every step from your first kiss to your last– set it up, and watch it play out/fecalchemize your own stupid life. Keep on doing it until it seems like a dumb thing to do OR attracts huge swarms of flies. Gross. Spit, spit. Eww-uuhghg. PFppfpfpt.

Convert it into your own dumb art

         See: this. Please!

Seee It

         By creating your own dumb art you snag a spot in the nation’s Giant Fame Raffle. It doesn’t matter the quality of what you make, if your number is drawn you get your ticket punched for a one-way trip to fetishistic panvisibility. Now more than a person, your every action will be monitored and decoded for its secret meaning. Your very image will become content. Your secret parts will become exponentially more lucrative than their non-famous equivalents– make sure you store away a cache of pix or a fuck tape of some sort while you’re at your peak. That way, if you are ever in need of a quick bump of notoriety or some emergency royalties, you can leak it to some internet creep for a sweet payoff plus a side of plausible deniability. Sure, it seems unseemly now, but compared to what your hard-times future self will be willing to do just to be all-seen and all-sought one last time…

Protip: Keep in mind the degradation inflation index– 50 years ago in-context titties was hot-blooded stuff, by 2020 even full penetration with wide release will be de rigueur.13

         Being famous is still the best thing you can be alongside being fuckdickulously rich. Doing so means you (finally) get to have sex with not only 9s and 10s, but the 11s science has genetically engineered both soft (breeding & punnet squares) and hard (airplane glue + scotch tape vs. the human genome) as well as the exotic hyper-12s that willed themselves into existence . We’re still not sure how, when, or most frighteningly why they decided to come into our world, but have been assured that when the time comes the truth will be unmistakable. Now that I write that down it does seem less than reassuring, but believe me– when you hear it from their trans-sapphire eyes…14

         In addition to the grossly inflated value of your junk bonds and all the 6 dimensional tail that can get you, you also earn TrueCitizenship and the privilege to actually participate in democracy. Did you know that, contrary to popular myth, the Electoral College is actually made up entirely of American Express Black Card holders? It’s true! They’re apportioned to states based on their likelihood of voting Republican or Democrat in order to legitimize the delegate/super-delegate cover story. Good news, Rhode Island– Jay-Z represents!

Try to make your ex famous
         It seems counter-intuitive that you would throw good time after bad to try to help this person, but by making your ex famous you will a) have slept with a famous person and b) much like chlamydia, fame can be transmitted through your simple syrup.

         Maybe you can claim you were the inspiration for their great work/s and then you too will be a celebrity of sorts for having not just basted in their juices, but having gotten them flowing.

         The fact that you did all the heavy lifting getting them their record deal / book published / dozens of victims will make this play all the more believable. If they’re not a total asshole, they’ll even thank you in the liner notes / foreword / arraignment. Note: these are funnier if you read them in a robovoice in your head. Go ahead. Try it!

Pure desperation
         “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it’s 2008. *checks iPhone* Yep! 2008! It has a third G– it wouldn’t lie to me. Ha , ha , ha. Jokes! Now time to take my pension for granted and get a refinance on my mortgage. That Michael Phelps sure has a long torso, right? But I Hear It Is Why He’s So Good At Swimming! Uh… Change we can believe in!”

Chalk it up to experience
         By taking a piece of chalk and using it to trace the shape of the time you’ve lost so begins the ritual by which you sacrifice this lost time to the madaltdemon, Experience. Ek skktg og tok gljjnd skd prggjkes!1

2. Thanks a lot, Human Rights Campaign– maybe next time try making your campaign donations contingent on the achievement of actual results!
3. used unproductively, used productively towards ultimately worthless ends, when excited by radiation
4. 0.9 / 1.7 repeating / 2 and 2/3 / 100% of your fucking life5
5. Did you figure out when you die? Sorry!
6. granted also bare maximum, but who wants to be that vulnerable AND you don’t tell me what to wear you’re not my father? (Why’s dad telling me to get nude? Why’s dad telling me what to wear)
7. you’re the only one here, who the fuck else’s fault do you think it could be?
8. the one with the steamroller, the Michael Jackson one, the one that offers you flowers because it loves you
9. don’t worry, moments don’t give off pomfrets. They rot like orange peels, dissolve like starlight mints. Time poisons, moments compost or dissipate into minty spit. Keep it like a secret.
10. how much was the speed limit?
11. 1 copulation = 119 hand-made
12. I’m sorry Zeno. I should not have used gayness as an assumed aspersion. It’s not fair to you, and it’s especially not fair to the gay community. While I do get keyed-up whenever I totally thwomp a paradox, that is no excuse for my behavior. Pair-a-dicks? More like Pair-a-discs: I made you these mixtapes as an apology.
13. note: given the trend of increasing media savviness, you can expect that your vaulted pix/primarily softcore sextape will actually not decrease in value as much as one would expect. The audience will be aware of how much more this meant in its historical context (and even if they aren’t, they will for 1-3 media cycles be inescapably reminded as much by the CNNs, FoxNBCs, and Doritos presents The New Yorkers) and appreciate that fact. With their dicks.
14. they seem to have a weird fixation on our hydrogen sulfate supply, but I’m sure that will come to nothing.


106. #48 – Find Something Better

August 27 2011

48. Find Something Better

You’re not right for each other. It’s only been ten minutes but you know this. You KNOW this. But you’re already here and you’ve already committed your night/afternoon to this. You have two options: you could [one] be deeply rude and cut the whole thing (super) short, or [two] spend the rest of the date plotting how exactly you are going to let this person down (if they’ve still got designs on you).1 Except I lied!/: you have a third option: pop the question: well, statement really: Let’s Find Something Better.

Step one: admitting you have a problem

Trying to find something better is going to work best if you are both disinterested in each other. If one party is still interested, they may play along in the hopes of using the process to change your mind. They will attempt to charm you, directing comments and compliments past their something better to their something best (aka you). They will either tank their picks for you or, if you insist on someone worthwhile, try to bring out the worst in them. They will attempt to leverage any interest they receive to get you to reconsider your (correct) choice. They will bank your image and it will collect interest. Enjoy it. This person likes you way more than anyone should ever like you and, more importantly, way more than you like them; you have won. Flawless Victory. Retire a champion. Your belt will arrive in 4 – 6 weeks.

The Disproportionate Interest Championship belt

But before all this, you first need to acknowledge the 800 lb Elephant in the room. Duchess– what happened? You look so sickly. You used to weigh two-and-a-half tons, and now, so weak. So frail. Duchess.

R.I.P. Duchess

Ok, now that that’s out of the way, time to tell this person you don’t even give a fuck:

First, gauge their disinterest. As previously explained, depending on your tolerance for a real shitshow / your love of sweet belts, you want to ensure they are equally indifferent to your sweetmeats. By observing their body-and-mouth language you should be able to figure out whether you make them consolidate blood.

    – Are they staring at your fungibles? Bad sign. Are they staring at your soft/hard parts but making a face like they just ate a wax grape they thought was a real grape? Better.
    – Are they laughing at your jokes? Good sign! Are they laughing with your jokes? Bad sign. The English language, ladies and jellyspoons.3
    – Can you count the syllables when they laugh? Most likely a good sign.
    – But are they the kind of maniac or affectful person who would have a discrete laugh? I can see what you don’t see in them. But, bad (bad) sign.
    – Do they look at you with longing? Bad sign. Unless that longing is for someone else. Is it? Ask them. Ask them “Is the longing in your look for me, or is it for someone else?” If they say “you,” shit. If they leave, fuck. But if they say “someone else,” perfect– you now have no obligation to reciprocate. Unless of course they chose this place because that is where s/he works. Shitfuck/you are officially an accomplice. Try to make the most of it!
    – Are they listening to you at all? Test them. Admit you love them. Admit that. They say they felt it too but were too afraid to god do they ever shut up. Ugh. Looks like it’s option D. See you in 15 to 60 years!

With your date’s disinterest appropriately gauged, or your insensitivity to their feelings thoroughly girded, it’s time to break the news. For all the cutenesses of the previous step, your best bet in this situation is to just brooch it. Remove from its dust bag your Pin of Disinterest.5 For etiquette’s sake, make sure it has been thoroughly polished beforehand– you would not want to further shame your detrothed by rejecting them with tarnished indifference. Carefully affix the brooch to the chest of your date, on the heart-side. If you are unsure which side the heart is on, feel for your heart. Theirs should be, from your point of view, the opposite. Say the magic words “I’m just not feeling it” and the ceremony complete.

Now remove the Brooch of For The Most Part Untenable/Non-desirable Date Ideas that came free with purchase of this book…6

If your book did not come with a brooch, Cymbalta may be for you.

Step two: finding something better

What do you like in a potential partner? You’re going to need to know if you expect to get some help that’s worth a damn.

Protip: consider the jabroni you just rejected. What are the qualities that they have that caused you to not ever be able to love them? Ok, now what are the opposite of those qualities. Tell them those while looking straight in their face. See if they pick up on what you’re doing. Oh, they did. Sheepishly add an aspect that has nothing to do with them. Did that throw them off? No? I guess it’s time to come to terms with the fact that you are a bad person. No? Ok. Continue apace then. Maybe there is some kind of negative mirror you can taunt them with.

Take turns listing off qualities. It’s nice. Sharing in this way is what friends do. You’re friends now! Are you starting to change your mind about this person? Too late — Friends!

Once you’ve got a good idea of what each other is looking for, time to find it. Ideally neither of you should be doing all the work yourself. Try to work out a few signals before going ‘on prowl’. Some suggestions:

one finger sliding into your cupped hand while pointing your hand in the mark’s direction = hey, how about this one?
thumbs up = I accept
Joan Rivers style throat points and noises to accompany = skip it
finger back and forth between you and your date with hip thrusts and steadying hand in direction of mark = I think we would make a good team
thumb-threaded dove behind head of mark, big eyes = look at this bird I made

How does this help? – you’ve got some options. One, your date approaches this person on the sly, strikes up a friendly conversation, then says good things about you / invites them over / invites you over. Classic, a little junior high, but probably if you are reading this you aren’t exactly making $100,000.00 a year. That’s the qualification for being an adult right? 100 grand? Household or self. Though, I mean, if you have ‘household’ income, you’re already older than I’ll ever be.

Two, speaking of junior high, your date fronts for you through more indirect channels. Perhaps the two of you write up a note and your date is the one who fake coughs it in their lap. Or, more strategical, a telephone campaign to generate buzz about you that will eventually reach your intended.7 You can achieve this either through unwelcome ear whispers, or actual phone calls. Keep trying numbers until you get someone who is in your vicinity. Hope your fav five is ‘times 10 to the 9th’!

Three, you don’t actually do anything, you just commiserate about how pretty ladies are. And/or men. Pretty Ladies: too pretty? An article you write together and post on the internet, paper telephone poles with, publish in a middle-reputation academic journal, give to Arianna Huffington for free.

Four, your date does not actually help in the procuring of a suitable replacement. Instead they provide moral support, soundboard your plans, punch up pick-up lines, offer advice, provide the perspective of their entire gender (more fake relevant if you are straight), and – most importantly – make sure you don’t wimp out. If they’re good at it, or you at least enjoy their company, you can make a date of making dates of it. How delightful your life is right now. Make sure to appreciate that. Most moments aren’t so socially validating for extracting such a low price. You Are Totally Taking Weaving The Human Fabric Right Now. No, wait. That’s probably a euphemism for fucking. Still– it’s nice, right?!

Five, plays the heel. You’re the face. Works best if you are trapped in the 1950s, desperately trying to avoid sticking it inside your hot, hot mom. Here, I wrote a song about it:

Time machine
You know your body’s like a tiiime machine
I don’t understand what day it’s been
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thurs-day
Thursday Tuesday Friday Sat-urday
Monday Tuesday Wednesday Tuesday again
I stick it in

And when I come around again, you won’t forget it
And when I come around again, I won’t regret it8
x forever

Pretty Ladies: too pretty?

1. a) agree to plans for a next date and then cancel via text; b) be hazy on your avails, don’t commit to anything, agree to getting back to them, never get back to them; c) tell them straight to their stupid face; d) just play out the string– hopefully they’ll get bored and cheat/leave; otherwise, start sizing wedding dresses/blackening your best tux2
2. With tuxes, as with rouxs, you need to cultivate a true darkness. Time to break into the museum!
3. Are there actual jellyspoons or do they exist only for this dumb joke? If so, why? I’d like to see one if you could point me in the right direction. Are they just small spoons with a bowl  the perfect size for scooping an english muffin’s worth of jelly? Or is it more like jellyshoes, a signifier that these ladies are down to-and-for jam.4
4. My new screenname is jellyshoesdtf. Tweet @ me! Facebook!
5. a gold-colored 3 x 3 inch square with a single fake pearl in the middle-ish
6. float like a butterfly weighed down by lobster claws / float like a butterfly, sting like a lobster [tie]
7. frequent claims: geniticular incredibleness, orificial immaculacy, nice smile, multi-phalangasmic
8. “Lea Thompson (Time Machine),” Actresses of the 90s EP (secret track), me

106. #20 – The Parking Lot

August 25 2011

20. The Parking Lot

If Heavy Metal Parking Lot (and its sequel That YouTube Where They Drive Around Barnes & Nobles Parking Lots On The Night Half-Blood Prince Was Released And Yell “Snape Kills Dumbledore” Out Their Van Window)12 taught us anything it is that the parking lot need not be mere prologue. It can be an event in and of itself.


In the 50s, to park was to participate in a bizarre group sex ritual that was the preferred method by which an ostensibly conservative and sex-phobic parental establishment initiated their young into the ways of love and reproduction. Dumb! Over the years this association has faded, but why not bring it back? While cleared-out scenic overlooks seemingly both in the middle of the woods but also on top of a beautifully light-grod4 city may be in short supply, if there is one thing our country does not lack for it is parking space. And really, what does the view of your hometown– below-car, powerless to stop you, brought to heel by the size of your love– have on, say, a Wal-Mart?
All of which is to say, start ‘parking’ at Wal-Mart. Make a thing of it. Not just you and your date, but a bunch of yous and yours date. If they’re intent on supplanting every single business and government institution then, really, isn’t it incumbent on them to provide all the services olde timee small towns used to? Car or no car, get thee to a WalMart parking lot and neck, and suck, and swallow, and plow to your hearts’ content.

What a treat it will be when, having come back from their movie/grocery shopping/parenthood planhatching, this complete stranger finds that their car has been washed and waxed and perhaps detailed (if you understand what that entails (because I do not))! I’m pretty sure it involves getting inside the car, though, so make sure you remember to bring your long metal window wiggle strap.

Do your local grocery workers a solid and collect carts for them. Note: this may not actually be a solid, as, in my experience, getting the carts was definitely the best part of the job. You’re outside, you’re essentially unsupervised, you can take your sweet time, and steering 14 carts is sort of cool you guys. Honest!

Do your grocery workers a liquid and leave all the doors in the freezer section ajar just a smidge / do the grocery workers a gas and stop brownbagging them (farting on the bagperson as you leave) / do the grocery workers a plasma and collect blood for them. From whom, and why? Just ask. They’ll know.

Are you really strong and intimidating? Troll-like in either build or appearance? Is it samurai times or the wild west? Are your local businesses disproportionately run by mollifying mollycoddles? Real ineffectual wimps? Pathetic Obamafied push-overs who jump at the opportunity to reverse negotiate? Why not set up an unofficial checkpoint and collect tolls; ‘reserve’ parking spots and charge rent; play dead by the speed bump and then, when drivers rush out to see if you need help, kill them and take their stuff.

Maybe not so much that last one. Maybe not so much any of these. I’m sorry.

In this contracted economy, small businesses need all the help they can get. Advertising can help, but effective outreach isn’t cheap and can require teams the size of small armies to pound pavement to spread the word. Why not Volunteer! Paper the cars with coupons you made for local businesses!

This one requires some significant pre-parking lot work on your mutual parts.5 Strictly speaking, this probably should be considered more of an arts and crafts date than a parking lot joint. But still! Make coupons for local businesses. Make them look good– I’m talking a real Print Shop quality job– make Broderbund break mirrors in fits of uncontrollable envy, make The Learning Company wish they too were still a thing so they could dish out sweet bucks to make you theirs. Make you safe, make you controlled. Soft in their arms.6

Here’s some ideas!/:

– Buy one pizza get two free tacos from restaurant of equal or lesser values
– 50% off for the rest of your life
– 50% off the rest of your life and then make a slashing thumb across the throat gesture
– Free order of twisty bread for every 15 minutes spent
– Good for one 15 minute backrub
– Good for 7 minutes in heaven
– Good for six whispered secrets
– Good for four beats unbroken eye contact
– Good for one favor, no questions asked
– Free pizza bread with order/upon achievement of permanent state of peace & tranquility/or totalitarian equivalent
– $15 off purchase of $5 or more
– Good for free delivery on any pregnancy within a five mile radius
– Grape Slushie, please
– Fight me
– Buy 7, get 13
– The bearer of this coupon is entitled to Jack Squat (you have to tell them off and kick them out)
– The bearer of this coupon is entitled to Squat Jacks (you have to jerk them off while crouching)
– Today no one dies

Or perhaps you don’t want to be a dick to both stores and customers of stores, but do still want to put things on cars. Why be content to fuck up monetary transactions when you can become a weird non-reciprocal part of some stranger’s life? Want to potentially change/haunt/delight/completely unaffect them forever? Write thoughtful notes– or even full blown letters– and leave ’em under their windshield wipers!

To the windshield wiper: the cork-plugged glass bottle of the automobile age!

+ Have some important political and social notions that people need to hear about? Put them in your note.

+ Is there anything you’ve ever done that you are so ashamed of but can’t tell anybody? Put it in your note.

+ Have a dream to share, but Martin Luther King has forever busted the dream-revealing curve for all times? Notes don’t judge. Or make snoring noises and rest their head against their pressed-together hands while you talk. Well, at least not as far as you or I will ever know.

+ Oh! to see inside the Toy Story style antics notes and letters get into when their writers and readers are not around.

+ Have a burning need to confess your love, but have no one to whom to confess it? Every car has a driver and maybe that driver is your one and only. Probably not, though. Also, if only for legal reasons/outpatient privileges, you shouldn’t be putting your name on these.

Follow Someone! As social animals, people like to know that other people are there for them. Why not extend this courtesy to your fellow folks in their loneliest hour: 3 AM, and at their loneliest place: the parking garage (or other parking situation large enough to be its own discrete, seemingly inescapable entity)?! What’s nice on twitter is twice as nice in real life, maybe!

2. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to have sex with JK Rowling? How about now, as compared to before the first book hit? A chart of JK Rowling’s sexual dynamism/performance tracked across the release of the books/movies // charted against her increasingly massive personal wealth. (At first I assumed it would get worse, but now I’m thinking maybe way better…)3
3. How do you think would it be? Please write to with your gross notions!
4. the passive form of light-grid?
5. Later, if everything goes well, perhaps you can both enjoy some significant post-parking lot play on your mutual parts. Can’t wait! / Hey baby, let’s make mutualer our mutual parts? / Oh! No– Hey baby Why not swap our mutual parts. Back and forth, back and forth. (Off-rhythm — back first– complex, sophisticated). Wheh?
6. Cradled in the back of a conestoga by a surprisingly massive / easy-on-the eyes / heavy-on-the-hard-on Reader Rabbit.

106. Determine Your Worth as a Couple

August 22 2011

Determine Your Worth as a Couple

How and why are you better than every couple? What about the ones that you are worse than? How and why will you rationalize your obvious inferiority into a virtue of some kind?1

         – Interpret their unassailable and effortless perfection as arrogance, stuckupitude
         – Straight mockery — all hypothetical slipper-fetches and night pipes, all Darlings and Jim Dears
         – Go with The Old Canard (i.e. anyone that pretty can’t be smart or interesting)
         – If they are white, some sort of aryan jab
         – If they are not white, the smug but deeply secreted/sick self-satisfaction that (probabilistically) you’ve still got that going for you
         – If both, by admitting your defeat gracefully JK making a remark about how trendy that is now.

    A remark from which you, on the invisible ledger of not being an insecure piece of shit, will never recover. Such are the dangers of being an insecure piece of shit. But I digress…

You’re in the grocery store. It’s Sunday morning. All the real couples have flocked to get did their re-stocking for the week ahead. And you’re there too. The couples seem happy enough to varying degrees. One not-so-much couple is obviously upset about something. A puts a box of cereal in the cart and B takes it out and puts it back on the shelf without hesitation. Later, A notices and B plays dumb. How do you even get to that point. What are you even doing. But mostly the couples range from ‘just fine’ to ‘so happy to even (just) be together’. Where will you range?

    1. So Happy To Even (Just) Be Together: pure duprass
    2. SuperContent: a love comprising more than one contented core / your contentedness is the contentedness brought into being by the sum of all relationships to justify their notions of contentedness / note to self: remember to use supersaturated as some over-clever measure of next-level pussy wetness
    3. Hazy-eyed: a look is still A Look
    4. Happy: smile on proximity – genuine/shows up on camera; “lucky, fortunate, contented with ones lot”
    5. Just Fine: everything is a-ok
    6. Just Fine: everything is eh, ok
    7. Lazy-eyed: one eye trying the whole time to find something better
    8. Not Happy: But you’ve got tv (see Unhappy)
    9. Unhappy: Dictionary-diving at 4am2
    10. Shopping Cart Lashouts: Please, you don’t need to do this. Someone else will fuck you maybe.
    11. Why?: how come?

The art of comparison is so crucial to our identities that the (mostly worthless) Venn Diagram is one of the first non-arithmetic mathematical concepts you learn at your socialization boot camp, elementary school. Without plenty of examples and counter-examples of romantical contentedness, how would you know just how shitty your shitty relationship is/how would you know whether you should be happy about this thing that is happening to you?

         + Sure, you could trust your feelings. When have *they* ever led you astray? Oh, every moment of every day of your entire life? And you sort of wish you’d chosen ‘unfeeling robot brain plus intermittent regularly scheduled pleasure/pain subroutine’ instead? Well chewy nougat, snickers– you picked ‘fucking nuts’.
         + Sure, you have nice conversations, but so did your parents probably, and now they watch 12+ hours of Bravo each week– and that’s not even counting A&E and Laws & Order/CSsI.3
         + Sure, the sex is great but orgasms are cheating i.e. dopamine more like dope-of-you, making…4 OH! Wait: even a broken cock can make you cum twice a day.5 Or a broken clock for that matter– get that second hand clicking just against th– [ahem ed.] But, again, I digress…

Your only hope is context. Place your faith in the Great All-Connecting Tautology (or GACT) of society– in and against the Fellow Lives Of Adjacent Menkind6— and judge away. They’re certainly demonstrative, but I think their constant contact protest too much; we don’t need to prove our love/our affection is doth-less. They seem rill happy, but who wouldn’t be thrilled to find the only person on earth who would flow through those channels. Oh man, we used to be them but now we’re us; they’ll be us soon enough but by then will we be all used up. Shit. Don’t look too close, here comes one of those 10×10 couples that defy context/make all FLOAM brittle and crumbly and worthless by comparison…

If you could *just* watch them fuck, think of what you could learn.7 Their sex is no doubt one thousand times better than yours. They feel the earth move at three orders more magnitude. Their beast has 200 backs. Their actual act is more thorough: more thoughtful, but simple; aggressive but, as apt, delicate. As apt as it is effortless, unaffected. More sincere, but with a certain playfulness to it. More actual, somehow– not hyperreal, not soreal,10 but just the case, non-semantic.11 More Than Words.
Every motion is as if freed from marble– it is (as it has always been) the exact right thing to do. Bernini detail with Brancusi efficiency.12 Not reactive, but preactive. Some edenic state of pre-cognition, some perfect mindlessness, in which all barriers between them cease to exist– locked in a pan-dimensional kiss13 that is temporary only in Time.
BUT, also, unlike everything I just described, something that you would enjoy and absolutely want to participate in.
BUT, also, again, I digress…

So you’ll never be stars exploding in then night or electric eels under the covers.14 Who is? Other people who are better than you? Almost certainly. But you will never know for sure how many and how much better until you determine your worth as a couple. Do it.15

1. How: likely through one of the methods listed; Why: because you are a bad person/net bad people
3. Excepting, of course, Criminal Intent reruns.
4. I’m sorry.
5. I apologize. (That’s not even a play on words…)
6. Eh? eh? Remember those?
7. Correction: not learn, but observe. Just because you saw the 1995 Western Conference Finals doesn’t mean you’re likely to dream shake The Admiral anytime soon.89
9. Dream Shake The Admiral: euphamism for masturbation, hj (vs. a man), or to bring someone to orgasm in general? Would you dream shake the admiral (a discrete act) or would you be up and down the floor all night giving the admiral the dream shake? Probably definitely the latter.
11. div-ine
12. This is really cool
14. / I couldn’t get all the way through either
15. (Measuring) tape your life… please!

106 Dates – #16: Drinking Games

August 14 2011

16. Drinking Games

Let’s say you trust this complete stranger. Let’s say you trust them enough to purposely make yourself vulnerable in front of them AND have them make themself purposely uninhibited while you do so. Let’s say that’s the kind of guilt you have inside of you, or shame, or lack of faith in your ability to be engaging, that the annihilation of your for actual personality (at the cost of some degree of agency) is step one on your path to making a good impression. Or maybe (instead of guilt) a piercing self-knowledge to know, and abundant integrity to admit, that you are that dull. OR YOU JUST LIKE DRINKING.

Ok. Now let’s make a game of it.

Getting to know you – Take turns making statements about the other person. Each time you’re [right/wrong] take a drink.

a) choose wrong if you are a pious puzzler who thrills to the gamesmanship of meeting and figuring out new people;

b) choose right if you have a deep-seated love of bullshit and (more than anything) enjoy the exhilaration of a ridiculous surprise.

So, sort of an Ant v. Grasshopper/Goofus v. Gallant deal.1


You were born on a railroad car

No. Of course not.


Ok, you are twenty…eight.

I am *drink* And you’re… twelve.

I’m 32.

*drink* Twen…teen. *drink*

… I have to go.

Ideally you will either both be playing in good or both be playing in bad faith.

That Handslapping Game But With Drinking – Place both of your hands out, palms up. Then have your date place their hands above yours, palms down. Then have them move their hands out of the way and use them to fill your up-cupped palms with liquor and then replace their palms over yours. Then slap your palms together and then lick each others’ palms. Take turns if you must. This… seems wrong.

People who enjoy this game may also enjoy Everytime You Stick Your Finger Through My Belowwaist “OK” Sign I Have To Take A Drink (But If You Don’t Do It In Time I Get To Take A Drink)2

Never will I ever –  originally designed in nursing homes to juice up/soften up/ensweeten the recently unencumbered/newly enwidowed elderly, this game consists of saying a future event, development, or discovery and then taking a drink (or swapping a pill) if you will be dead before it happens. The combination of mortality and crazy amounts of fucked-up juice makes this game a total depends dropper.

PROTIP: Once you’re seeing liver spots cut to the chase and drop a “me ploughing you.” As you should by now be well aware, you’ve got limited time and shouldn’t be wasting it fucking around. Just fucking.

For those of us who theoretically have long eventful lives ahead of us as long as the aneurysm in our brain doesn’t pop,3
we can adapt this game to a less speculative sci-fi guesstimation contest by treating it like a flipped Never have I ever, in which the date and dater take turns saying things they never will do. A mix of ‘things of which I have no interest in doing’, ‘things which I have no aptitude for/opportunity at’ and a few speculative responses is ideal.

The DRINKfinitive interview – empty your pockets. Both of you. Don’t argue with me, just do it. Put all your folded slips of paper with questions on them face down or folded in a pile on the table.4 Mix ’em all up. Hopefully you will have used the same kind of paper, otherwise you may want to bother your waitfo5 for a bag, large opaque glass, or if you’re someplace fancy, a hat from the hat check. If they’re resistant, slip ’em a five. If they look at you with pity and contempt, vainly try to save face by acting like you want change. And that they should know that. Didn’t you hear me, sir or ma’am? Change, please! Store this moment for later when you’re cursing yourself while jerking it.6

You should probably steal that hat...

Apparently you are at the same restaurant as Professor Hinkle

Once you’ve put all your slips in a grabbable context, take turns pulling one out and asking the question inside. What makes this different than a DEfinitive interview, you ask? Not much! But here are some more sample question slips you can use:

  • I like you more than [blank] but not as much as [blank]
  • What is your weakest joint? [promise not to use against them]
  • Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall: when will you die and how?
  • If you had a time machine: why? What did *you* do to deserve such an honor?
  • Will I break up with you or will you break up with me? How/why?
  • How good are you at it?
  • Which superpower would you rather have: tininess or stretching?
  • I don’t think I like [liked thing]
  • If you could have any cake frosting decoration which’n?
  • Which is your favorite beetle?
  • What flavor shampoo? Which odor deodorant?
  • ##Tell them what their sexfulest part is##
  • !WPM Typing Contest! / (-1wpm for each typo) / [See  p339 in the Addendapendices for test text]
  • Alpha-bits or Cheerios? (What’s your fav educational cereal)
  • Did anybody make dimatap a drink a yet? Amoxocyllin?
  • Lasers or gels?
  • A barber cuts the hair of every person in town who doesn’t cut their own. Does he live out of town or does he let it ride?
  • Applesauce is a pretty good sauce, what fruit should we as a species sauce next?
  • Who broke your heart and why?
  • ##Who broke your heart and why##
  • H O T   D O G    T O P   P I N G S
  • Collapse of the American Empire: +/- 10 years
  • Worse burn: Shitney Poostain, or Whitney Houston (but you say it exactly the way you think of her)?
  • Sing to me a little

RUMMY VARIANT – in this version, more of a game is made of the interview process. Answer: yes, you can drink rum while doing it. But the number and quality of puns you make about doing so can be used against you in the court of love– Judge Phinnea Albolineata Carbanos de Love, Trial Division of the International Criminal Court tribunal for Crimes of Aggression. So keep ’em few and fragrant unless you want to go to the Hague.7/8

  1. Keep picking slips until you have a hand of ten (seven if you are double dating or involving public weirdos).
  2. At the beginning of your turn draw another slip.
  3. There’s gotta be a way to meld these things but I haven’t really though this far. Get back to me.
  4. Just ask questions, I guess.


excerpt Thwaite v. Imendez, the honorable Judge Langford presiding

“Your honor, Mr. Imendez secured my client by shouting ‘citizen’s arrest’ over and over at the top of his lungs while crying and hitting him with a baking sheet, we are not dealing with a man competent to determine what is or is not a criminal action.”

“I just wanted to help *starts crying again*. He hurts these girls. Bad.”

“Objection, your honor”



“Now the defense would like to discuss the issue of Mr. Imendez’s 8 years back rent– isn’t this why you’ve come up with these spurious and horrifying allegations, Goofus”

“*choking back tears* But he said ‘Gallant doesn’t let his friends pay rent because friends help friends *starts crying again* who help friends mix drinks'”

2. You may want to have poison control/every hospital on speed dial for this one
3. Sorry, Marion. (Yes, you– you! Marion).
4. If for some reason you did not go out on your date prepared (i.e. with folded-up slips of paper with questions on them in your pockets), this could still be interesting using the things in your wallet or purse. I guess.
5.what’s a waitfo? Because your table won’t set itself! Srsly tho, waiter & waitress are sexist, but waitperson is oddly/paradoxically dehumanizing. Instead, try Waitfo™! It’s short for waitfolk and is legitimately fun to say! (Or, for a contrary flavor, try barister (for a male barista)! It sounds like a gendered term so why not make it one / they are probably definitely judging you so it is kind of accurate).
6.You stupid shitty unlovable— change!– idiot. IDIOT. You’re an idi- idi- i- i. I. I’m ok. [huff] I’m ok now.
7.JK, you’re (almost definitely) not African.
8.alt. version- …can be used against you in the court of ship– Judge John Wesley Shipp. And then a buff 50-something year old man starts running around you in circles holding his index fingers out up against his head backwards (like wings) and making ‘whoosh’ noises.

106 Dates – #104: One sustained kiss

August 8 2011

104. One sustained kiss

The human kiss is one of the greatest marvels of human engineering. Invented in 1923 by cinematogrphaer Floyce Hopfpfeffer, the kiss was greeted with widespread condemnation when first introduced, as it meant that on-screen couples would no longer be required to give each other quick handees when the script called for them to demonstrate affection. Public opinion soon changed, however, as the world discovered not only how enjoyable the sensation of two tongues touching could be, but were also gifted the increased freedom and productivity of a life less constant carpal tunnel syndrome/penile chaffing. Out of the great decade of fads, the kiss has proved to be longest lasting and most universally beloved, narrowly beating out ‘economic-collapse-inducing hypercorruption’.

So why not celebrate this testament to human ingenuity/weird wet firm softnesses?

How long can you sustain one kiss? Akekachai and Raksana Tiranarat did it for 46 hours, 24 minutes, and 9 seconds. Why?1 Besides having to do one kiss the whole time, they were not allowed to go to a bathroom or sit at all (for some reason). Really, this seems as much a record for standing as anything else. Jesus Christ. Were they immediately taken to the orthotics store to get fitted for the lower-body reconstruction braces they’ll need to wear for the rest of their lives? Before the Tiranarats, the longest kiss was 33 hours even, and over the past decade had only increased by four hours. Why add another 13 and a half? What are you trying to prove, Thailand? (Is this some kind of lese majeste thing? (Did the King put you up to this?))2

But seriously, check out the vids.3 A) unattractive,4 B) like being the appellee of the dead-eyed but desperate pecks of the just-dumped, those kisses are not kisses anyone would ever want to participate in. Since you will never match, or never want to match, the actual record, why not (instead) see how long you can for real kiss. For this date– for the whole date– kiss. Just once. Just one sustained, actual, passionate kiss. When you enter the door, start kissing. Then keep kissing that one kiss. As long. As you can. And then when it is over you leave. Date over! Or better yet, just meet somewhere and start doing it– on the street, in a bar, a coffeeshop, church, at the marriage of your most spought ex,5 at your parent’s funeral, wait this is my mom’s funeral, no I think I know my mom when I see her, but that’s my m-oh-my-god, oh god oh god, Auggh why- why didn’t I ask how you knew her name and everybody else’s name and looked like them also and me, this is just like dad’s wake all over again, or while ice skating.

Make sure you do tongue calisthenics beforehand. In order to maximize limberness and flexibility, and to avoid getting potentially romantically devastating tongue splints, make sure you do some kind of tongue calisthenics beforehand. In fact, it would be in your– as well as your date’s– best interest for you to put yourself on an active tongue-strengthening regimen, starting a week to a month before the date, and to not ever stop doing it. The tongue: it’s your most important fuck muscle! Aaron Copland’s Connotations.6

Here are some exercises you can do in the privacy of your own home: light kissing, light pussy eating/dick sucking, keep a tiny balloon afloat, if you get real good you can work your weigh up to a regular ball, and then a weighted ball, remove and regrout kitchen floor, lollipops, bathe a kitten, drink like a hamster from now on, toss salads (re: buttholes), toss salads (re: vegetables),7 tie/untie cherry stem knots, tie/untie shoelace knots, tie/untie wood knots,8 really thorough pussy eating/dick sucking, learn TSL, learn glossaphore, learn morse code and then get some kind of digital morse code button surgically implanted in your soft palate, or I guess a tongue stud, just start accosting people on the street symbolically threatening to eat their pussy/suck their dick by way of tongues and fingers and then do it, a lot.

Whatever you do, do NOT do any tongue twisters. Excessive tongue twisting can result in hingetongue, and no one wants to make out with a bendy straw.

Warning: even having done all the proper exercises you still run the risk of inducing tongue fusion. IN CASE OF FUSION just remember these three simple tips

      1. You have one tongue now, be careful not to bite it

      2. I mean seriously, your biting days are pretty much over

      3. You still have to brush your teeth though.

Some Techniques

Nose breathing – arguably the most crucial skill to master, make sure you don’t die or else gross. Although, I mean, that would be pretty intimate– dying inside somebody’s mouth and all. Sure: it’s a major gambit. But in terms of unforgetability you will put Natalie King Cole’s crack-induced shamelessness to actual shame, creating some kind of shame paradox. Politicians spouting wall-to-wall lies without compunction or consequence! Major media news reports on and celebrity peeners and labiae! Dr. Drew! Oh no! ITS ALREADY HAPPENED!! CAN NO ONE UNREND THIS NIGHTMARE VEIL??? So, yeah. Breathe through your nose, stupid.

Ear drinking – since your lips will have to be sealed the whole time you’re kissing, you will be unable to ingest any liquids – but don’t worry! I’ve got you covered. Now, the government doesn’t want you to know this, but– all of your faceholes are fungible. An eyehole is as good as a nosehole, a mouth is as good as an ear, and a really badly infected pore is the exact same as an abscess.9 If you and your date find you’re getting a tad parched, help each oth-ear out10 and pour steaming hot tea down their head. Also a milkshake.

Pay attention – Ok, you like kissing. You’re really good at it. You don’t just stick your lips on their lips add tongue and call it a day– you lead, you react, you– I don’t actually know how to do good kisses/have never actually kissed anyone before (am I even close?). But even the most conscientious kisser is going to struggle to stay on top of their game after two hours. Here’s some tips on how you can stay attentive and walk out with a devastating win (from which your date will never recover):11

      • clip a chip clip on your dick/clit
      • that’s it
      • just do that one

Underwater Breath Training – Now that you’ve been prepped on the importance of breathing as it pertains to the space-time rescue of the entire human race, it is space-time to build up your capacity to hold your breath.12 No one likes warm nose air all over their cheeks– upstairs or downstairs. Boogers diffuse, everyone knows this. Hot snot is nobody’s friend. What am I even saying. Just, find a pool and make sure you have friends to make sure you don’t die. I. I need to sit down.

Sensory Deprivation – Just as runner’s trick themselves into thinking they experience a ‘runner’s high’ in order to try to trick dumb idiots with weird incentive structures into ruining their knees so the runners can salvage the uncorrupted bone and cartilage in order to further fortify their unholy mega knees, kissing beyond a certain limit will transport you, mind & soul, to a Space Odyssey-style hallucinatory edenic all-ennveloping neon space-womb (and subsequent well-appointed but oddly sterile space-room). Your body doesn’t go anywhere– it stays there because you Need To Keep Kissing if you want to have any chance at an audience with the space-baby. Don’t let the monolith that is watching your own dumb corpse die intimdate you. Just Keep Kissing. That baby is cool as HELL. Spoiler Alert.

Some Kind of Tongue Sleeve/Lip Laminate – or tongue strengthening alloy? Or a tongue suit, made out of tongues. Perhaps a horse tongue that you just slip your own human tongue inside of. Or, if you’re pretty ruthless, an actual human tongue. No. I’m sorry. I just made myself sad. Don’t do that. Or at least beat up an organ donation transport specialist and snag a corpse tongue. Do they transplant tongues? Can I have one that does that cool tripartite fold thing? Does that help at, you know, ‘oral exams’? What? Don’t take that face with me. Ok, sure– the use of exam in a sexual + vaginal context is perhaps not the most erotical of innuendo. But, I mean, c’mon. …I just want to get on you, mouthways.

1Seriously– how come?

2This is where a The King and I reference would be if I had ever seen that thing. / Uh… Yul Brynner!

4Burn/you were thinking it! Probably! I was! 😦

5Like hated but for spite– maybe you’ve had worse exes, but none so crushable. Tracks both venom towards & efficacy of petty retributions / satisfaction there derived.

7The amount of linguodexterity it takes to create the perfect balance of lettuce, cucumbers, bell peppers, shredded carrots, croutons, and dressing would impress even the most standoffish or jaded of gentlenesses.

8Remove the wood knot (with your tongue) or, experts only, create the wood knot with your tongue.

9That may accidentally actually be true… (gross).

10The government is also allergic to puns; SMOKESCREEN! The sound of laughter from behind a wall of smoke then coughing.

11Spiritually, not physically or emotionally– faith: shattered, new god: you. I HOPE YOU LIKE ANOINTINGS!!

12The space? Underwater! The time? 4+ minutes (or until you don’t die over and over again until that deathcheat barrier is way later than it used to be)