Archive for category girls
Halloween, you're still a hoe.
Catching up.
Halloween has come and gone, and people have been begging me to update my happenings since. Well that’s not true, no one actually asked me anything, but I’m going to fucking tell you anyways. Sorry, I know, no need to swear.
My Halloween actually wasn’t all to wild and crazy kids. I was in Washington DC for work, at an engineering conference where I was the “grown up”. I know right. Me, the “grown up”. I gave some workshops, did some company recruiting, did some binge drinking, a good time had by all.
Actually here’s a secret between you and me, I had to a give a workshop to about 40 student engineers one day of the conference at 3:45 in the afternoon, apparently I went out a little too big the night before because I still hung over and felt like death. No worries, I totally rocked the presentation, but ran to bathroom and puked 2.5 seconds after it ended. Yeah, I’m an adult. Public speaking is my specialty, probably my best skill, regardless of what state my liver is in. And that’s a fact.
My Halloween was interesting…moral of the story is I walked back to my hotel 2 miles in the rain at 5:00am in a short sleeve shirt, in the city where I had no idea where I was going. I was navigating on the rising sun back to my hotel. Unfortunately the story isn’t as awesome as your hoping. I wasn’t doing the walk of shame because I just hooked up with major babes, nope. I was walking back to my hotel at 5:00am because that was a better option than waking up on a strangers couch dressed as Space Ghost. I walked into my hotel where students were gathering in the lobby to catch their shuttles for the airport. They were probably wondering why the guy that interviewed them yesterday was stumbling in at 6am, soaking wet in a short sleeve shirt. Me too. Me too….
I got back to San Diego and immediately saw a flood of Facebook albums bursting with Halloween photos. And me being the creep I am, of course went through all of them. I pulled out a few to make fun of, sorry if you know these people. Remember I’m “Single Steve”, just a internet personality, who’s kind of dick.
For your pleasure:
Halloween, don't be that girl
It’s about that time of year again, the weather’s getting colder, the leaves are beginning to change color and girls are deciding which kind of slutty animal they want to be for Halloween. This blog is written for my female readers, all 3 of them.
Actually before I get into my post, I want to take a ten second break and send a friendly reminder to all my readers of this blog:
The Most Important Single Steve blog You Will EVER Read. EVER.
Basically the cliff note’s of the blog is Real Life Steve is not an assshole, well, not all the time, and Single Steve is a complete asshole. So when you read this, don’t think of the funny, attractive, smart, strong, modest, sensitive, nice, modest guy you know in real life, instead, read this as just some guy on the interweb with a web page. I know we’ve had this talk before, but people seem to have brain damage and can’t separate the two. Basically I want to be as ha-larlious as possible, and that involves me being a super jerk, but I still hold back because I fear people will associate these words with real life me. I not saying everyone that reads this blog has brain damage, just like 85 percent of you guys. You know who you are. I’m surprised most of the people that come to my webpage even know how to read, but that’s why I include so many pictures, so you can still pretend you know what’s going on, but I digress…
Penis penis penis, vagina vagina vagina. See, just some random words, some dude on the internet says. I’m about to use the word slut about 1000 times, just a heads up.
Where was I? Oh yeah, sluts. Halloween sluts. Halloween is a great time of year, it’s interesting to think about the “fun” levels of Halloween as you progress through your life.
When you’re little, probably 5-10 years old, its fun and exciting to dress up like your favorite super hero or princess and go trick or treating house to house, so innocent and naive. Then in your high school years it becomes “uncool” to dress up anymore, everyone knew “that guy” that came dressed up in a mid evil costume on Halloween and got beat up.
Then fun levels really pick up at 18, when you’re away from parents at college, every costume now gets prefixed with the word “sexy”, which is actually just code for “I can be a hoe and you can’t say anything”.
When I say slut, in no way shape or form is that an insult or meant to be a degrading comment. In this context. Halloween makes it okay. It’s actually kind of a complement I would say. Somehow, magically I can walk up to a girl (probably one that I know since I don’t talk to ones I don’t know) and tell her, that her costume looks totally slutty and I won’t get uppercutted.
I’m not saying that I disagree, am offended or discourage the way ladies dress on Halloween. NOT AT ALL. I actually encourage this type of wardrobe. I’m just stating the way things are.
Now you’re probably saying “But Steven I don’t dress like a slut on Halloween, is there something wrong with me??” No, no there isn’t. Well maybe, I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. But it’s okay to not dress like a complete whore on Halloween. Really it is. You can dress “normal”, maybe a funny or clever costume, good for you. I’m not mad at it. BUT what I ask is don’t be that girl that dresses in the costume that scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to walk into the bar and be scared because I think there’s actually a zombie at the bar. That’s really cool you spent 2 hours making it look like your bleeding from the face! Especially considering were at a classy place like Cabo Catina where I just peed into a trough. I just want to drink, and be merry. At no time on my Halloween night do I want to wipe puss from your face off my costume because you walked by me. That’s a fact.
Halloween isn’t about being scared, it’s about getting drunk and trying not to embarrass yourself while dressed like an idiot. Anyone knows that. It’s science.
This blog was actually going to be about what kind of guy you would attract based on what slutty costume you dressed as, but I kind of got derailed, but I’ll throw a few in here at the end.
Cutting it short, passed my bed time. Maybe I’ll finish making fun of everyone’s costumes later this week.
What are you going to be for Halloween? Let me know so I can make fun of it.
I’ll be in Washington DC next week for work stuffs, anyone in DC that wants to celebrate like it’s our job on Halloween, let me know! Don’t know what I’m going to be yet, something I can pack in my suit case. Maybe a ghost? A sexy ghost? Well see.
One more thing, since you’re not paying or sleeping with me to continue to write these blogs the least you can do is invite you friends to join the facebook page. It’s the least you could.
Also starting a new thing, where I reverse stalk some random I don’t know who’s following the page. I mean they’re basically stalking me, they least I could do is photoshop them in some awkward situation. That’s why I need more random’s, as to not offend my “real friends”
Happy Halloween
Facebook will become self aware on August 29th, 2011
The journey continues, Captain’s Log:
9683 consecutive days of being alive. Yeah, that’s right, in a row.
Not to be dramatic, but that’s getting pretty old. I can remember the days when I was just a day or two over 8000. Those were the days… I was a senior in college (year one of two), just getting exposed to the classy bar scene of Tucson (Buffet and the Nugget), living in a frat house (SICK braah), making out with B minus chicks, yep, not a worry in the whole wide world. I definitely wasn’t worried about getting married and popping out some kids. I’m still not worried. I’ve just been noticing it’s about that time.
And by it’s about that time, I mean Facebook is secretly trying to run my life.
That sneaky SOB. I was making some edits to my profile this morning, when I saw something that caught my eye and made me do a double take of screen. Usually my eyes glaze over the ad’s on the side of the right hand screen, useless garbage and nonsense. No I don’t want to fucking join Mafia Wars, no I don’t want to go to an online beauty college, blah blah blah…..but what did I see this time when I loaded my profile page you ask that caught my attention? It was the triple threat of single ads. First of all, fuck you Facebook, you don’t know anything about me. Secondly, really!? Do I need 3 ads to tell me how not to talk to girls?
Maybe I should date Christian girls, apparently they’re busty.
I’m used to one or two ads about single girls, but 3 was a bit much. I thought it was fluke, so I hit the refresh button, thought there was no way I could hit the singles ad jackpot twice in a row, but BAM, 3 more hot generic spambot ladies for me to click on. It was like gambling, what are the chances that out all the ads on all of facebook, I would get 3 “desperately single!? Click Here!!” ads.
I tried it again, and got an ad for an MBA program, this is when I and realized Facebook does targeted advertising based on who you “are”. How could I of missed it. Facebook is smart, it’s learning. You know what other computer based application was smart and learned?? That’s right. Sky Net. Fuck it’s so obvious to me know, facebook is learning, adapting, telling you who you should be, what ads to pick, then BOOM, it builds an army of evil robots to destroy to earth.
Or not, but still, who is Facebook is to tell me who I am? Who does facebook think you are?
What 3 ads show up when you go to your profile page?
Are you desperately single? Are you destine to annoy all of your friends and join Mafia Wars? Should you go back to school in Idaho? No seriously, comment on the blog and let me know who facebook thinks you should be.
So besides the ads facebook screaming at me to get a spambot girlfriend, more recently in the past year I’ve seen more and more feeds like “I’m engaged!”, “I’m pregnant again!”, “Wedding was great!”, “My baby daddy just got out of jail!”, etc. Basically I’m saying my facebook feed is much different than when I was 21. Either I need to make more 21 year old friends, or just come to terms that I’ll now get facebook feeds in regards to my friend’s children turning 15.
Speaking of 21 year olds! I’ve got a funny story. Not haha funny, but more like ouch haha funny. Or it might not be funny at all, but fuck you, you’re not paying me to write this so it’s your fault.
So anyways, a few weekends ago, my buddy from college got married in Tucson, so I made the trip down to Arizona for the wedding. I RSVP-ed a “plus one” weeks before I knew who I was taking. So of course, 3 days before the wedding I’m still dateless because I’m awesome at find dates. I had recently broken up with the girlfriend so I had no “options” of people who I would ask to make the road trip down with me to Tucson, so I did a hail mary and sent a text to a “friend” in Tucson and asked if she would like to accompany me to the wedding. She was a mutual friend of the guy getting married, and her older brother was going to the wedding so I thought it wouldn’t be completely out of the blue if she attended with me. I don’t know if you noticed I used the word “friend” in quotes a few sentences ago to describe who she is, and it’s probably not what you’re thinking. So she’s actually the little sister of a friend of mine from college, and sure I “know” her and we’re facebook friends, but prior to the wedding I had probably spoken only about 20 sentences in face to face conversation, and of those 20 sentences, 16 were probably on a professional level. So why only 4 sentences spoken to her in a social setting you ask? Well one, she’s extremely attractive, I mean really really pretty, and I’m kind of intimidated by her? Which is weird because I can confidently give a presentation in front of 100s of people, but talking to one very beautiful girl, and I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. Two, we didn’t really have the same social circles, well we might of, but I wouldn’t know because I graduated before she started college…..oh yeah, she’s only 21.
Now I’m 26, and I don’t think that’s a huge age difference, and it’s not like I was asking her to this wedding to be romantical, which even isn’t a word, I just thought we would have a good time. Which we did. Some of my friends here in SD made a big deal out of the fact I asked someone “so much younger”. But I think my friends are idiots. There I said it.
Anyways, I guess I was curious as to her take on the situation, but I wasn’t going to ask her “So do you think I’m too old to talking you?”
The funny moment occurred when we were at the reception just talking about weddings and marriage and the whole idea of it, she started a sentence with “I know you’re like way older than me…..”, at this point I stopped her, kind of did a comical pseudo freak out, she apologized and said that’s not what she meant. I know that’s not what she meant to say, but it’s funnier to be fake outraged at her comment. Like I said there was no intention of a romantic interest with me asking her to go with me to the wedding, but at this point I think I went from date to dad in 5.4 seconds. Ftw!
I know it’s not what she meant at all, but still funny hear. I had to coerce her into finishing her sentence, because I was genuinely curious as to where she was going with that. Basically the sentence ends with “but if I turn your age and I’m not married, I’m going to end up marrying the first douche bag that comes along”. Awesome. Apparently 26 is the freak out age for girls to start marrying the first jerk that comes along. Anyone know any 26 years old females?
So basically she was telling me I have 5 years to become douche bag, so you’re saying there’s a chance! Just kidding….Wedding was actually a lot of fun, good to see old faces (26 year olds), had a great time with ms. 21.
Questions, Comments,Concerns!?
Do the 3 ad challenge, who does facebook think you are?
Invite your friends to join the facebook page!
With the boots and the fur….
*********Old blog, back posting**********
From January 29th, 2008
Greeeeeeeeeeetings! Hi there. Welcome. Bienvenidos.
Last week marked the first week of me officially being an SDSU grad student, it’s all so very exciting. The thrill of sitting in class, the joys of homework and the opportunity to not talk to/make eye contact with a whole different school of girls. Yep, it’s going to be a great year.
So as I stood in line for the delicious Panda Express during a break between the first day of classes, I was busy doing what any socially awkward engineer would be doing. I was staring at the ground, like it was my job. Like I was the official ground inspector, and it was my duty not to look up, no matter if I was standing in line between two attractive girls. But thankfully this was this case, other wise I could have completely missed a ridiculous site. What did I see?
I saw an attractive twelve-teen your old looking girl, in line in front of me, who was wearing pink boots with white fur and a short jean mini skirt. Jackpot.
Really?? On the first day of classes? That’s the fashion statement you’re going with? Really?
This blog is going to be about just a few of the ridiculous fashions I noticed on the SDSU campus on the first day of class.
I mean I’m not a fashion guru by any means, in fact it looks like I get dressed in the dark by a pack of monkeys, BUT I do know what’s ridiculous. And you, my attractive friend, are ridiculous. And all I could hear in my head the entire time I was thinking about how ridiculous she looked, was the “… with the boots with fuuuuur, the whole club was looking huuur…” song, and since that’s the only part of the song I know, it played over and over and over.
Got me thinking, why was the club looking at “hur” as this girl with the boots with the “fur” walked in. . . . What is it about this fashion statement that gets the attention of the club? Here’s my explanation.
Actually boots with the fur aren’t that bad, in some cases. It’s just ridiculous to see them coupled with short skirts. There must be an easier way to show guys you have VD. Okay a little harsh, sure. I’m just saying, on the first day of classes THIS was the message she wanted to send to her classmates. This was her first impression to me, and I was just the guy behind her at Panda Express. I wonder what she wears on the second day of class? Lingerie? Hope none of my readers where boots with the fur. . . .
I grab my ever healthy Panda Express cuisine and head to my table. I begin eating my friend grabs my attention and points me in the direction of a girl who is standing about 10 feet in front of us with her back to us. What was SHE wearing you’re asking?? I’m not really sure how to describe it actually, but for purposes of this blog I guess I’ll call them “It looks like her ass is eating her pants” pants. Yeah, THOSE pants. I vomited just a little in my mouth, just a little.
(I know I show non-yoga pant in the picture, but the rule applys to many pant types, I just happen to see yoga pants)
Why why why would you wear those? I can’t image she can’t feel that ¾ of her pants are now nestled securely inside her butt crack. I mean for the most part these yoga pants can be an attractive thing. I’m not even saying that only skinny girls should wear these pants, all I’m saying is PLEASE buy the right size. Nobody wants to see your pants as they get sucked into the most secret of crevices of your butt. That’s not too much to ask right?
Well there’s my two cents on a few fashion observations I picked up last week on campus. Tomorrows another day of school so who knows what I’ll see then!
YOU tell me some fashions you find to be ridiculous
Craig's List, one more time…
Posted by Single Steve in Craigslist, criags list, dating, funny, girls, humor on February 25, 2009
************Old blog, back posting************
From: Monday, January 14, 2008
Sitting down and conjuring up funny is more difficult than it sounds. So in taking the easy route out, I think I’ll do another CL’s blasting. It’s the easy way out of writing a real blog, sure, but I promise it will be my last one about CL losers, for a while. Actually it got me kind of thinking, maybe this will be the year I tackle the hard hitting topics in my blogs, like politics, legislation reform, and world peace? Maybe it will be, maybe it will. . .HAHA!
Actually by politics, legislation reform, and world peace I actually mean I’m going to duct tape a 40 to my hand and smash the key board and see what comes out.
Here it is. More Craig’s List Tool boxes.
There it is, the easy way out of a blog, Craig’s list losers. I promise future blogs will be more thought out and planned. Actually I kind of wrote down some new ideas for this year blog, things to be included:
“Relationship advice – ask the guy that can’t get any himself, on how to get some”
“Video blog?”
“Craig list all stars – time to pick on the girls”
“Steven gets drunk and does something ridiculous
Etc etc.
Leave me some comments?
If you liked this blog you might like:
Started 2008 with a Bang!
*********old blog, back posting**********
From:Friday, January 04, 2008
Hello Hello! Welcome to 2008, and welcome to my first blog of year. Not too sure what it’s going to be about just yet, kind of just sat down and decided it was about that time for a new blog.
I’m home tonight, for the first Thursday night I’ve been in San Diego in probably 6 months. Previous to tonight I was batting about .933 for going to the legendary Moon Doggies on any given Thursday night.
Probably asking your self why I’m home tonight? Why is tonight different?
Could it be:
A.) The city is under attack by giant sea creatures and they are blocking your route to the bar?
B.) Your ex girlfriend is at the bar hanging out with all your friends
or
C.) I’m tired of drinking and acting irresponsible
Actually the answer is none of the above. Here’s why:
A.) Not even a 263 foot tall octopus shooting lasers out of it’s eyes could stop me from going to Moon Doggies on Thursday. See below:
B.) This is something I don’t even want to talk about. Nor can I because all my friends read this blog and it’s one of those too close to home topics. Hurray!
And I’m probably going to get in trouble just for mentioning anything about it. Hurray!
C.) HAHA! I can be so funny sometimes
Actually I’m home tonight for a couple reasons. One, my liver still hates me from New Years eve. A lot. And two, it’s part of my New Years resolutions? Question Mark?
I made some resolutions this year and figure today was a pretty good day to start. This year my resolutions will be:
1.) Be less fat
2.) Save more(any) money
3.) Be more Artsy
4.) Write something?
1.) Be less fat – Pretty self explanatory. I used to be able to run a 4:35 mile, now I get winded up walking the stairs at work. I eat out every meal every day. It cost a lot and is probably pretty unhealthy. I went to the grocery store yesterday and went grocery shopping, it was probably only the 3rd time I’ve been grocery shopping since moving to San Diego a year and a half ago. Awesome. To motivate me I’m posting a “before” photo.
2.) I’m bad at this. I make a decent amount of money and in “theory” should be able to save money, but I would guess 70 percent of my expendable income goes towards drinking of some kind. Is that bad? I feel the need to buy everyone and there mom a drink when I’m at the bar. It’s because I can, but I guess from now on I won’t be? Doubtful, anyone that knows me, knows free drinks. Think this one will be the hardest one to keep, I’m a very giving person. All I need is enough.
3.) I used to be more photograph artsy back in the day. Well not artsy, but know what people think artsy is. I don’t consider myself to have any type of artistic abilities, BUT I do know what people interpret as artistic. Lighting, perspective, dynamic subject, yada yada. People that say they took a photo that captures their inner child escaping from the darkness of solitude, are dumb.
4.) Write something? How does that work? I’d like to write something. Maybe like a screen play or book or article or something. I was watching super bad, and thinking that is exactly something I could have written. Clever, ridiculous, witty, awkward humor stuff. How do I do that? Can anyone help?
Enough lameness, now to the real reason why YOU are hopefully still reading this blog. You want to hear about something ridiculous that I did, sure, who doesn’t.
NEW YEARS EVE 2008!!
How the year began for me. . . .To be honest, I don’t really remember. It was blurry, tasted like tequila and definitively didn’t involve me making out with a girl at midnight (at least pretend to be shocked). But I’m skipping like 12 steps of how I got to the new year, let me jump back a few paces.
So my Friends decide they want to go this event being hosted down town at this hotel called the Witherby. I had never heard of it, but I’m not a big fan of down town.
Turns out this event down town was fancy pants for sure. The cover was 160 dollars. That’s right my friends 160 dollars!? What the F!? Not I didn’t get a BJ, or HJ, or even a ZJ for this wack amount. It was inclusive(so I thought!) of drinks and entrance, but still 160 dollars!? Since all my friends were going there, it’s not like I couldn’t not not (yeah I did a triple negative) go. What else was I going to do?
Had a friend visiting, so we both bought tickets to this event, thinking for 160 dollars we both better get at least HJ’s when we walk in.
Event is set to start at 8:30pm, my friend and I get all fancy pants up and head down town at 8:30 sharp. Fuck it, if I’m paying a lot I’m going to maximize my drinking time, like any responsible adult.
We are one of the first one’s in of course and head straight for the bar. We then begin to start making predictions about the “type” of girl that we can expect to be attending this type of event. Results of our analysis were not good. We determined it was going to be tough night to find ladies. Not that it’s ever easy, but the math wasn’t in our favor.
About my second trip to the bar (at this point it’s still pretty empty and early on in the night) a girl, yes you heard me right, a girl approached me and we started making some chit chat. Which I think I’m pretty good at, I make the jokes and the ha ha, and the what not. Not to be a jerk, but I am for the purposes of making laughs for this blog, this girl I was talking to was about a 6. I mean a six is great, in the engineering world she would be about 8.5 or a 9. And I’m no ten, or 9 or 8 or -3, actually I don’t know what I am, but at this point after making nice conversation ,for some reason I felt like I needed to say my goodbyes and “throw this fish back in the sea”.
I was feeling pretty good about myself, real fucking confident like I had brought my “A” game tonight. I mean I had only been there about twenty minutes and already I had 6′s approaching ME. Sixes! Girls never approach me. I walked back to the group and they were impressed that talking to a girl at the bar, it’s a pretty big deal for me. Some of the friends said I was an idiot and I should have latched onto her for the next 3.5 hours to lock in the midnight kiss, another guy gave me his words of wisdom.
“first you plant the seeds,
then you let the seeds grow, you water the plan, check up on it everyone once and a while,
Then you fuck you plant”
Deep words from a wise friend. But he couldn’t have been more wrong.
On any note I had a good feeling about the night and was optimistic about meeting girls. Little could I had foreseen she would be the only person I actually spoke too, out side our group of friends.
The night continues with me consuming a lot of alcohol, I mean a lot. I don’t really remember much after 11:30, but here’s what I do recall.
Apparently I kept asking my friend “where my plant went?” and was swimming through the crowd of people yelling “Six!? Where are you six!?”
HAHA! Really? I guess. It’s completely possible.
Count down to midnight was extremely anticlimactic, when the clock struck zero I was a few feet off the dance floor watching my friend make out with an Amazon. Slightly jealous, not of his Amazon, but of the midnight kiss cliché thing. I don’t think I’ve had the midnight kiss in a long long time. Maybe next year. Night winds down with mass consumption of alcohol. Apparently at 1:30 the bar is longer free. How did I find this out? When my buddy and I go up order some shots, take said shots, and the bar tender casually mentions that’ll be 24 dollars. WHAT!? My friend, being the outstanding gentleman that he is, booked for the door. Literally. He was gone. I was standing there, drunk and confused, I start making my escape when I get stopped about 15 feet by some giant of a guy who said in a firm voice “SIR, that’ll be 24 dollars”. “ohhhh, 24 dollars? I thought he was calling us Minty Ballers”. I paid the douche his money and made my escape to the street.
This is where things get super blurry.
Walking to a taxi, my friend told me I disappeared for about twenty minutes. When I returned he told me that I told him, that I had met a girl, walked her to her hotel and made out with her in front of her elevator. HAHA! First of all, this is probably false. What probably happened was I saw someone eating a burrito, chased them down the street, and got lost. I mean anything possible.
Is it bad I can’t remember? I haven’t had one of those nights in a while.
Happy New Year. Next blog will be more focused on a topic with pictures and probably funnier. I promise.
First Dates
Posted by Single Steve in dating, funny, girls, humor, online dating on February 23, 2009
So here’s the situation:
As we all know online dating is a bust. A hilarious hilarious bust. Yeah laugh it up. Anyways. . .the good news is, me writing about online dating and observational humor about girls is working out much better. I’ve meet more people through myspace, than I have through match and eharmony combined times two.
*Here’s a little fun fact:
About two weeks ago I posted a Craig’s list in Men Seeking Women. All it was, was one of my blogs and at the top I wrote “You could be dating this funny, normal guy with a job and a sweet car!?”. No pictures of me, no description of me, nothing about me, all it said was my age. I got about 15 responses. I don’t know if this is good, bad or average, but I thought that was a lot. So here’s the thing, so some of them seem normal enough to continue with the chit chat via email, we get to the point of exchanging myspaces(I know like third base right), and then communication seems to stop. Always. Seized, haulted, just stopped. For about the five I was emailing to, all five seem to taper off as soon as myspaces were exchanged. Interesting? Any hypothesis? Just something to chew on.
So yes, I’ve been meeting some people through myspace. And I’ve been going out and doing “things” in the real life with said people. Some, just a few, might call these encounters dates. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t.
In the last month I’ve been on 5 first dates. That’s right 5. This number may not seem like a lot for you casual daters out there, but please consider it’s me, and this number is extraordinarily high going based on pass history since moving to San Diego. Out of these 5 first dates, I would say I’ve only gone on one second date. Only 20 percent return rate? I mean I had a great time on all 5 of these dates. . . .
Resume
I mean I had a great time on all 5 of these dates, I actually had a lot of fun with all of them. Did they not with me? Doubtful, I mean I’m awesome. Just kidding. But seriously.
Then why only a 1 in 5 chance of second date-age?
Here’s the truth. I don’t want to go on first dates. Well I mean I want to go on A first date, but I don’t want to go one five different first dates. I would have rather of gone out with the same girl five times. Does that make sense?NOT that I regret going out with any of the people I did, no no. Not at all.
Side note: I wouldn’t qualify myself as “dating” anyone right now. That requires multiple dates and making out.
So how did I get myself into the predicament of 5 first dates? I did some heavy analysis and number crunching and I came up with:
I suck.
I suck I suck I suck. I go out on “date” it’s a great time, I think, and then BAM,radio silence. Not because I don’t like said person, but because I’m insecure Ian and not sure if they have an interest in me. So how do I remedy this? I play captain cool pants and don’t do a thing. Nice.
Looking back in my college days, I can’t recall a “first date”. I don’t even think I went on a first date. Things were so much different back then, at least in my dating world.
Maybe I’m just freaking out? Maybe there is supposed to be big gaps between first and second dates? I know it’s my fault for lack of initiative, which is odd because I am captain initiative. At work I tear ish up with initiative, anyone who knew me in college knew I was president of everything and captain go getter, but it seems like girls are my kryptonite. I’m not sure really where I was going with this blog, I actually regret not writing about my New York adventures. Seems like that would have been a better read. Fuck it. You can’t win them all.
Drinking, It's not just for children anymore
Posted by Single Steve in bars, dating, funny, girls, humor, nerd, online dating, rant on February 22, 2009
********Old Blog, Back Posting**********
Have you ever waken up and just felt ashamed? Like you aren’t sure why you feel ashamed of what ever you did last night, but you just know you should. Maybe it’s not just ashamed, maybe it’s like 50 percent ashamed and 50 percent embarrassed.
This morning I woke up and I was over come with this fantastic feeling. Why?
Maybe it was because this morning I woke up still wearing what I wore out the night before? Or maybe the fact that I still had my shoes on? Was it because my mouth tasted like I ate a bucket of sand before going to bed? I don’t think it was because I woke up on a friends couch, I do that all the time. I did how ever wake up covered in straws, yes straws. Drinking straws. It was a little unusual, but I still don’t think that’s why I felt so ashamed/embarrassed. As I got up and walked out the front I started shifting through my pockets for my keys. . . .BINGO.
I had found the reason why I should be ashamed. Finally.
What did I discover deep within my front right pocket?
Carne Asada. That’s right, carne fucking asada, IN my pocket. WHAT!? No this isn’t one of those “I’m soooo Mexican that. . . ” jokes. I literally, yes literally, woke up with carne asada IN my pockets.
What the hell did I do last night that I ended up with chunks of grilled steak meat IN my pocket!?
So to recap:
I’ve done this before(Best Date Ever Blog!!), and I want to try this again. Let’s Quentin Tarantino this situation. Let’s start at the beginning of the night and see if we just can figure out how exactly we got to the “Anatomy of Steven this Morning” situation.
So let’s start off with what happened. Actually let’s start off with what DIDN’T happen. What didn’t happen was, was I didn’t eat dinner.
Strike 1.
I left work about an hour early for happy hour with some co workers, had a quick 2 glasses of always delicious blue moon. After that I made my way to my company drinking softball league. I’m not actually what you call “good”, I’m more the guy that shows up to play the minimum 3 innings, drink beer and meet people. Had a few more drinks. It’s a good time had by all. After that I went home for approximately 3.2 minutes changed my clothes and was off to Linedoggies (AKA Moondoogies). Nothing really happens for a long time, besides me drinking an obscene amount. But to be fair, I had notified all my friends I was with that tonight was I was in “black out mode”. I don’t know how me telling my friends my intent to drink a lot actually justifies me drinking a ridiculous amount . But what ever helps you sleep at night. So yeah, basically I drink a lot, I mean at two dollar you call it’s, how can I be drinking a lot. I have to make up for the nights that they run their other special of “Nine dollar beer night”.
Here comes a funny story of me being a drunk fool:
So at some point I get a text message from a female friend asking what I was up to and where I was at.
Some back ground about this friend: She is actually someone I met through my myspace blogs. Yep. The system works. She’s funny, attractive and seems like a cool person. We’ve had the lunch and met up a couple times in PB. I’m always down to meet new cool people in San Diego. We haven’t like hooked up or made out or anything, you know just hanging out.
So anyways she tells me she’s in line and coming in. I’m pretty stoked. Because at this point I’ve had about twenty of the two dollar you call its and I’m stoked about every thing.
Here’s the scoop. I’m not really sure where I stand with things like this. Like does she call/text me at because she “likes” me, or she just wants to hang out as friends. I’m COMPLETELY and utterly clueless, maybe that’s why I “gay friend zone” myself with all my girlfriends. Anyways in my extremely drunken stooper, I figure there is a slight chance(slight chance that is now probably a ZERO. . .ha, well get there) that she, pretty girl in San Diego, might, might is the key word, want to make out with me. I know, I know, sounds ridiculous, but please bare with me.
Seeing how I haven’t made out with anyone in over 6 months, this is a rare opportunity. Yes you heard me, 6 months. Well there was once in that time but we were in no condition to be remembering things, and if you ask her she might not even verify it happened. Don’t even get me started on sex, because I’m pretty sure I might be a born again virgin. Anyways, not the point. NOT the point.
Point is, said girl is coming to the same location that I am existing at and my drunken mind set is telling me there is slight chance she might not be completely appalled at the idea of kissing me. Things are looking up.
For this portion of the story there’s two versions of the story. There’s what my drunk ass think happened. And then probably what actually happened.
Here’s my drunk version of story:
I’m at the bar. I casually pull out my phone and notice said girl has sent me a text message letting me know she’s inside. I calmly stroll over to where she said she’s located. I gently bump her on the shoulder and give her a welcome and hello. I notice she’s with dude, and I think she was holding his hand.
Just then it was probably the most awkward silence I have felt in a long time. It felt like all the music had stopped, and there’s was nothing but silence and stares for at least 8 minutes. I was probably standing there for at least 10 minutes. I said something to the extent of “well I’ll see you later” and casually walked off.
Here’s what probably actually happened:
I’m at the bar(yeah that part stays the same). It takes me probably about 2 minutes of digging through my pockets to determine which one of things in my pocket is actually my phone. I pull out my phone, glare at it with one eye close, you know doing that drunk stare. You close one eye because somehow you think that’s actually going to increase your ability to see. I see that said girl has text. I stumble over to the area she say’s located, I’m sure I bumped into at least 20 people on my voyage to the other side of the bar. In my version of the story I mentioned how I gently nudge her on the shoulder, but in reality in my haze I’m sure it was more like a hard shove to the back. I’m not even sure if I spoke any cohiernt words to her. I’m almost positive my “welcome and hello”, was more like a chubaka war cry.
So there was a dude standing behind her, I’m not actually sure he was holding her hand, he may or may not have been just in line to get a drink. I was probably only swaying there next to her for no more then 30 seconds before decided there was an awkward silence and left.
So that’s where the stories differ.
BUT, who cares if she was holding that guys hand!? I shouldn’t! right? I mean I’ve met this cool chick a few times, we’ve never even hugged, why would I be all Jealous Jill if she was holding some dudes hand?? Who knows. Alcohol?
I’m sure she just wants to hang out and make the jokes, that’s my forte and what I like doing.
The story gets better. At some point later in the night I text her:
Seriously!!! Hahaha! Man I’m ridiculous. What!? “UR cut”, who am I Donald Trump, with the “You’re Fired!”. Apparently I’m a mean drunk? Or just a dumb one. And by me sending her this message assumes that she was at some point UNcut. Like there was a chance she was thinking the same drunkenness I was thinking. I don’t even have the right to “cut” this poor girl out of the fantastic that would be making out with me. She probably got this message and was sooo confused. Actually this was her response a little later that night:
Exactly my thoughts. You can tell by the number of exclamation marks she is as equally as confused. Poor thing. I just hope she didn’t read my message and think that I was actually talking about cutting her with real knives. She was probably thinking “Oh shit, why does this Mexican want to cut me?”. So that was that. She actually text me today, she didn’t mention hating me. Maybe it will be okay? And I realize that she is probably going to read this and it will make more sense to her, and I will hopefully be able to work my way up from “Dude that wants to cut her” status to “funny friend from the internet” status.
Oh the night continues. Or so I’ve been told. Bar closes down and we stumble our way down to the shitty 24 hour Mexican food. Which surprisingly isn’t so shitty at 2 in the morning. We get our food, and on our way out apparently I think it’s a great idea to grab about 100 straws in my hands and stumble out of the place. I guess as soon as we made it outside I threw them all up in the air like I felt it needed to be raining straws. I’m surprised I didn’t get beat up, I guess I was throwing straws at random people and then proceeding to giggle like a little school girl. Somehow, somehow we managed to make our way back to our friends house(I sleep on his couch at least twice a week. . .) and gorge on the delicious meal at hand. Now I’m not actually sure how or when the carne asada went from being inside my burrito to nesting it’s way into my right pocket. Perhaps I thought it would be a tasty treat in the morning? I fell asleep at some point, and this is how I got to the “Anatomy of Steven this Morning” situation.
Now that I’ve scared away anyone who might want to be my friend. . . .I promise I’m not a Jealous Jill. Thats why this situation was so ridiculous.
Anyone want to go see Shrek 3? I want to go, but I don’t want to go with my dude friends. Just throwing it out there. . .
Leave a comment if
-you have equally ridiculous stories.
-you’d like to comment and tell me how ridiculous I am
-you were there that night and have more details of what actually happened
-general comments about funniness
-you don’t want me to cry myself to sleep tonight
If you thought this was funny, maybe you should tell your friends? I won’t be offened if you tell your friends to read this blog as well. really.
Match.com mix up
Posted by Single Steve in dating, funny, girls, humor, nerd, online dating, rant on February 21, 2009
********Old Blog, Back Posting**********
Before the show, I’ve got some pre-blog thoughts:
OLE! As some of you may know, it turns out I’m actually Mexican. It’s true. It’s also true that I am the token Mexican of my group. You know that guy that’s responsible for saying “Ole”, jokes about yard work and stealing. It’s hilarious, and a good comedy angle for me to use. So I figured ,it was my duty as the token Mexican of the group, to show up for cinco de mayo celebrations in the most obnoxious sombero I could possibly find. Sounds easy enough, right? Well apparently it is IMPOSSIBLE to find a sombero any where in San Diego. It’s not that they were all sold of somberos, they actually just don’t sell them. I spent two hours driving and searching on a epic quest to find a sombrero. I went down to the “Mexican” part of San Diego. I went into, literally, 1 walgreens, 1 CVS, 3 dollar stores, 2 Carnicerias(Mexican meat markets), 1 thrift store and one place I thought was a store but it turned out to the year 1988. This place was selling cassettes and fanny packs, so I assumed it was the 1988 Store. The places I went into and asked them if they carried sombreros, they looked at me like I was speaking Spanish. Well, that’s probably a bad simile, but you get the point.
I guess it makes sense. I’ve never actually seen a “real” Mexican wearing a sombrero, besides cartoons. The only time I’ve seen a sombrero, is on some jackass white guy, who is pretending to be Mexican while he screams things like “burrito!” and “chalupa!”.
I was looking in the wrong part of town! Mexicans don’t wear sombreros! So instead I had to borrow a gardeners’ hat and put Mexican themed labels on it. See below.
It worked out for the best. I think? Details of that night are hazy. All I know is I woke up on a friends couch, tasting of tequila with my shoes on. That’s right, I’m a grown up!
BLOG part:
Times like these I wish I was a better writer because the following tale deserves to be told in all it’s glory.
The follow is a TRUE story. I couldn’t make this stuff up, we all know I’m smart enough. The follow images are un-manipulated, other than texting on top.
So as you know, I am giving up online dating. But since I have 5 more months paid I might as well turn it over to friends to see what they can do with it. Right? Right.
Last week I logged into my account just to get one last mental snap shot of what failure of online dating looks like, when the greatest thing that has happened to me in a long time, happened to me.
At first I wasn’t actually sure what happened. And once I realized what had happened, I almost refused to believe it. I still don’t believe it.
I logged into match.com as normal, but when the welcome page loaded. Something, something was different. Usually my eyes glaze over in preparation for disappointment, so I thought initially that my eyes were playing me for a fool. But after doing that thing where you rub your eyes with both hands in disbelief, this is what I saw:
Those of you playing at home. This is exactly what it looks like. I, some how, through the magic of cyber space logged into someone else account. NO didn’t hack my way, YES I was giggling with excitement that this happened. At first I thought it was Ted or Jackie, who I gave my account info to, and they had changed my profile pic to this guy. I called Ted laughing, I thought it was funny, because I thought Ted was just completely changing the profile to this fake person. Ted had no idea what I was talking about, and told me he hadn’t even logged in once yet. . . . .My laughing turned to excitement. Excitement that this might actually be someone else’s online dating profile. I quickly started taking as many screen shots as I could of this guys profile, all the mean while I was doing that mad scientist cackle. It was great.
I don’t even know how this is possible, but it’s like God himself(or maybe Dr. Phil) came down to me and appeared in a tortilla. But instead of a tortilla, he logged me into someone else’s account. THE BEST PART of this mix up is that this guy is EVERYTHING I’m not as far as online dating goes.
Let’s do a comparison of the initial login screens:
I can’t believe how night and day my profile is, compared to his. The only cynical joy I can get out of this, is hoping that maybe we criss crossed. I logged into his, and he into mine. When he logged in, it must have been a sad day for him to see he only had 27 views and his last wink in 30 days was from a himself. What joy I would have gotten to hear or see his expression as he logged in and saw a 24 year old Mexicans failed online profile.
So of course I had to figure out what this guy was doing right. Right? Wouldn’t you? Now I realize he’s a real person, who exist in real life and by this time you probably think I’m worst than Hitler for not immediately logging off from the profile after the little mix up, and what’s even worst is I’m going to go through his messages!? Well it’s true. I figure, I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s Match.com’s fault. Or maybe, just maybe one of the techno nerds at match.com did this on purpose, so I could see what a good profile looks like.
Initial Messages:
This is where I fail. I’m not good at the initial message. What do you say? How do you show interest but not sound like an over aggressive creeper. Also what do you say, so you don’t get lost in the mass emails I’m sure she receives. Well lets find out what the expert does:
So there’s more messages that I “captured”, but my conscious just hit me. I am feeling increasingly more and more guilty about putting this guy’s, who I’m sure is a nice guy, messages up. I know I know, it’s a shame, but trust me their good material.
I’m going to move on the next part. Which ironically is me actually using his profile for evil. I WAS just the silent observer, print screen-ing all of his messages, but after a while(probably about 6.7 seconds) my cynical humor set in.
How funny would it be if this guy, who’s profile I’m logged into, started winking at guys. Well that’s not really that funny, but when winked at the correct “targeted” profiles, it could be hilarious. Don’t understand what I mean?? See below. I winked at the following two profiles. Let me explain why.
Well that’s it. I leave you with words from our dear friend. I sent myself a message from this guys profile. It’s what I would image he would say:
Internet Popularity
Posted by Single Steve in bars, dating, funny, girls, humor, nerd, online dating, rant on February 21, 2009
********Back posting, Old Blog************
****Updates:
I’m turning over my online dating accounts to Ted and Jackie. Ted’s an old friend who knows the in’s and out’s that is Steven, and he recently just got engaged to Jackie who is an creative writing major graduate. So I figure it’s a winning combo. Well see. I can’t do any worse? I’ll keep you updated .
****
Dear Diary,
Been thinking recently about the idea of “Internet Popularity” and just how ridiculous it is.
Just some internet popularity stats. I’ll break them down at the end.
-256 Blog Subscribers
-497 Myspace Friends
I got a friend request today, and it was from a very attractive girl. I’m just as shocked as you are. But there’s more.
Believe it or not this situation happens to me on a daily basis. BUT 99.5 percent of the time, it’s some fake girl who’s new to town and claims I can get a free PS3 by taking a quick survey and wants me to click her web cam. But today, I was almost creeped out to find this girl actually “exists.” She wasn’t a robot!? So I messaged her to inquire as to why she, ‘random attractive girl’, would request to be my friend. Not that I’m against random attractive people, that exist, attempting to add me. I was just curious.
She messaged back with:
“I ran across your blog and you are soooo funny!! Hilarious!”
And that’s it.
So this got me thinking about two things.
One, since I have kind of a sarcastic cynicism view of things, I assumed her message was in “the code”. You know, the one code where when some ask you about so and so and you say “well Lisa. . .Lisa has a great personality”. Which is actually code for: Lisa is a fat cow who attempted to eat your shirt because you spilt barbeque sauce on it, last time you were out with her. Yeah that Lisa.
Was this random girl telling me I’m funny, “code” for something else??
Probably not, but it’s funny to think about it:
So I have no idea how I got off on that tangent. And I’m pretty sure girl actually just thought my blogs were funny and it wasn’t code for she thinks I’m fat. Eh.
Two, why can’t real life be this!? This actually almost enrages me.
Lets move this to a real life situation.
In real life, under no condition, would a random attractive girl walk up to me in a bar and ask to be my friend without me even saying a single “real” word to her. It just doesn’t happen.
I’ve gotten several of these random friend request(10-20). Some from dudes, some from girls. Some were attractive, and some. . . .well some looked like they had great personalities(see above). I’m not against the random friend add, especially if it’s because they dig the blog. My only complaint is if these random girls are wanting to be my “myspace friend” because they think I’m funny or what ever, does this mean they would be my friend in real life? Doubtful.
They would never come up to me randomly in a bar and speak to me, let alone request my friendship. How would they even know I spoke English?
I have to light myself on fire and start break dancing, just to get girls to notice me at bars.
My thought is I need some type of T-shirt so said random girl knows just how awesome I am and will approach me in real life.
Below are some prototypes:
Any ideas for something else that might work??
One last thing. Kind of on the same wave length of being an internet whore.
It’s come to my attention that you, yes you, are a thief. You are going to completely read this blog and then not comment. Now this isn’t just me being negative nancy. I actually did some math. Below is the actual myspace counter for views and ish to your blog.
thats it.AND I’m Single??
I get my jollies from comments.
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