NOW, with that being said, it’s time for me to be a jerk, so sit back and let me tell you about an absolutely terrible date I went on a week ago from the free online dating website okcupid. Well, it wasn’t terrible terrible, but I guess I was just more optimistic about my first date (with a human being) in 6 months. I guess that’s my fault.

So lets set the scene, me, habitual pathetic online dater, I’ve almost completely saturated the girls of okcupid.com. And by saturate I don’t mean I’ve dated every girl on okcupid.com and it’s time for me to move on. By saturate I mean I’ve gone one 1 date, but I’ve probably sent emails to every girl aged between 22 and 30, who I thought was attractive, that lives in a 30 mile radius of San Diego. No it wasn’t all at once, creep, it was over the course of time. Thankfully for me, okcupid lets me know I’ve already sent an email out to said girl, and when I sent it. And once you send an email and don’t get a response, you probably shouldn’t send another opening email. Or maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong? Maybe I need to send 13 emails to a girl before she responds

Anyways, a girl, a human girl, actually responded back to my email! I know right. Making me one for 437. Not bad. I’ve always been told it was a numbers game. Girl and I email back and forth a couple times, and it was decided we were going to go out on a “date”. GULP. My first date date in 6 months, kind of a big deal.

So about the girl, here’s her stats…..

Right? So nothing to be concerned about, just your average girl. Game on.

She seemed interesting and funny via email, but we all know typed words can be deceiving. Like apparently my blogs make me sounds like a funny white guy, yeah, like that.

What did she look like you ask!?

Physically she was um…pretty? Well if you average all of her photos together, she was pretty. What do you mean average all of her photos together you ask? Well shut the fuck up and I’ll tell you what I mean. I mean, good question. I MEEEEEEAN, on okcupid you can post multiple photos of yourself. Said girl had 5 photos. That’s 5 opportunities for me to decide my physical attractiveness to her before our date. That’s IF her photos had all been from the same time frame.

Her 5^th photo was the most attractive, but I feel like that was also the LEAST recent. The 4^th was the next best and so on, until you get to her main profile picture (1^st photo), which looks almost like a completely different person from her 5^th photo.

Yeah, I’m a terrible. Oh well. And it’s not like I haven’t put on weight since the 8^th grade either, but I’m not going to post up a picture from then, trying to pass off like I still might be at my 8^th grade weight. All of my pictures are current and look like me. Except this one.

So knowing that mostly likely she was probably going to be looking more like picture 1, then picture 5, I still decided to go out on the date. HEY! I know what you’re thinking “You shallow son of bitch”, fuck your couch. I’m not as shallow as you think, BUT I think we’d all be lying if we said that physical attractiveness wasn’t important. You have to be physically attracted to the person, at least initially. No girl ever looks across the bar and says ‘Oh my god, that guy looks really fucking ha-larious, I’m going to grind on him”. No girl EVER does that. It’s more like “Oh my god, that guy has massive pecks and a sweet Ed Hardy shirt, I’m going to go grind on him”

I have to light myself on fire and start break dancing, just to get girls to notice me at bars.

But I digress, so after averaging all her pictures together I decided I was attracted enough to go out on a date with her. I mean I haven’t been on a date in Fooooooreeeeeevaaaaar (Sand Lot style), and I thought why the F not. Who knows maybe she’ll be twice as awesome in person?

The Date

The date…..so I suggested dinner and drinks, she seemed excited about the idea. So I’ve got this cliché date I always do, always. I’ve used this same date sequence on probably and literally 10 girls since being in San Diego. Some of them were date dates, some of them were just friends I was trying to make out with. So what’s the date. The date always starts off at the same nice quant Italian restaurant a few blocks from me (in Hillcrest), they have an awesome, and a very intimate atmosphere. After we have a good meal, and a bottle wine, I then I suggest we walk ½ a block down the street to Wine Steals. Wine Steals is a great place to continue the drinking and the conversation, while emphasizing my “grown-up-ness”. As opposed to suggesting after dinner we go down to Dirty Birds in PB and shotgun beers. ALTHOUGH I wouldn’t be opposed to dating a girl that did that, I just don’t feel like that’s a first date move.

Yeah that’s my date move, and that’s how it supposed to work, at least in my head. It never works as planned, I usually blow it about wine steals, which is about the time I start smelling her hair when she’s not looking. I have to stop doing that.

If you’re reading this blog and thinking “Oh shit!? Steven and I went to that Italian place for dinner, and then he suggested we go to Wine Steals afterwards, but we’re jut friends, he wasn’t trying to bang me…… Right?” Wrong. Well I probably wasn’t trying to bang you, but I was at least trying to make out with you. Sorry, I’m not sorry.
And for future girls, that I casually suggest we go to this really good Italian restaurant near my house, it’s actually code for “I’m going to buy you dinner and drinks on the 5 percent change you want to make out with me”. So now you know.

Anyways, focus, THIS was the date plan.

I get to her apartment, give her call, and she said she’ll be right down. Now the time between when she hangs up and she actually gets down stairs is probably the most nervous 4 minutes of the date for me. I frantically, do a last minute breathe and teeth check, I start smashing all the AC buttons to make sure the car is at a comfortable air temperature, and then I nervously flip through the radio stations to find a “cool” song.

She opens the doors, and immediately I notice this is NOT the girl from photo 5, nor photo 4, nor 3, nor 2, nor 1. It’s worst than we feared….much worse……the girl from photo negative 2 showed up (I’m a terrible human being, I know). I’m a little rattled as she starts approaching the car (literally, think Jurassic Park…), but I’m an extremely optimistic person, I thinking I’m going to make the most of this date and maybe well just have a super duper awesome time. Maybe.

(NO I’m not going to show you photos of her, that would just be mean. Although I have shown photos of her to just about everyone I’ve told this story to in real life, so meet up with me in “real life” if you’d like to see pictures that accompany this story.)

(AND for the record, I like girls with a little meat on them. I don’t like really skinny girls, I feel like I’m going to break them, or eat them, it’s just not normal. I like girls that would be considered average to bigger than average, for the record. BUT she was bigger than even I would find attractive)

She gets into the car and she smells of sweet sweet perfume and there was something else, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she definitely smelt of something much different that perfume. I figured it out, but not, till much later….

We make our way to the Italian place, order food, order wine, have an average conversation. Nothing spectacular, nothing terrible. I’m a talker, I can make it work regardless of how little she talked. After dinner I proceed to start progressing towards step 2, suggest we go get a drink at a really classy wine bar about half a block away, she fires back with we should go to Aerobar. Aerobar!? I’ve never been, but I always see it off the freeway on the sketchy frontage road. Going along with her suggestion, we head out to Aerobar.

We get to Aerobar, and it’s exactly what I would expect it to look like. Small, narrow, one bar with some pool tables in the back. The bar is packed, all local older San Diegian type of crowd. We sit down at the bar and order a drink. What she FORGOT to mention is that this place is basically her Cheers. Awesome. I mean I love meeting new people and being social, and I’m really good at it. But she is constantly telling me to wait right here, she’ll be back, and runs off to chat with a group across the bar, it’s starts getting old reeeeeeal quick. I didn’t come to Aerobar to sit by myself, and watch a 40 something couple make out 3 feet away from me like the Titanic was going down. I didn’t. She finally has a seat and we start talking again when she gets interrupted by her phone ringing. She opens up her purse to grab her phone, and what did my little eyes spy that ended any hope of a second date??
Cigarettes. Really? Cigarettes? Who still smokes? It’s the year two thousand fucking ten.

Also she was talking about running a half marathon this year. Um, step one, stop fucking SMOKING. I know I might be over reacting, you’re thinking it was just a pack of cigarettes Steven you don’t even know if they were hers, or how often she smokes. Shut up, this is my blog, I can over react anyway I want. But THEN it clicked. When she got into the car she smelt like sweet sweet perfume and terrible terrible cigarette smoke. FAIL. This is a deal breaker. I will NOT date someone that’s smokes. I did date a girl that smoked only when she drank, and I hated it. She smelt like smoke, tasted like smoke and made me smell like smoke.
Pretty much I stopped listening.  No physical attraction, no mental attraction AND she smokes. Fail. Date could not end quick enough. We get back to her house, I drop her off, no hug, no kiss, just a “Well, see ya later”.

As soon as I got home, I immediately logged onto okcupid, to check her profile to see if she said she smokes….as you can check above, I guess she did say she smokes. FUCK. I guess I was just so excited to get a response message from someone I didn’t do my usually background, profile creep sweep before hand. Smoking was just the straw that broke the camels back, not the only thing that helped me make my decision for no second date. F! I really wanted the date to go well. Well I really want any date to go well.

I hope it’s not another 6 months before my next date. . . I like dates, I like having dates, I like having someone to enjoy this adventure of life with me (not to get all emo on you). But seriously, I’m too awesome, and do awesome things which require a partner in crime. I’m tried of being my friend’s 3^rd, 5^th, and 7^th wheel on their date nights. Oh they say they’re not date nights, but they’re date nights.

So what am I looking for you ask??? I’m glad you asked. I actually have been building a list of requirements for my next girlfriend. Yes, requirements, I’m an engineer, what do you fucking want from me. Basically, I tweet periodically with the hash tag #RFMNGF which is Requirements For My Next GirlFriend. When ever an idea or thought pops into my head about something I would like my next girlfriend to have or do, I tweet about it.

I’ve started the page here:

RFMNGF

Those are my requirements, let me know if you meet those, or know someone that does. That list is growing daily

I’ll mention quickly on the way out of this blog…..

I may or may not have a “date” with this girl next week:The Dating Chronicles of a San Diego Single
She’s single, blogs, funny,  Hispanic and lives in San Diego!? Sounds like my internet twin. I suggest you become a fan, read her blogs, and give me some tips and advice on how to prepare.
I’ll keep you posted. Also big thanks to Shawn from Ragaboo.com, he was critical in helping me draft the perfect facebook message to her. Check out his blog, it’s most hilarious!

I live for comments. I’m kind of a whore like that.

Invite your friends to blog. I bet they’ll like it.

If I ever wrote a book, that’s what I would call it.
Even if the book has nothing to do being single, and the comedy that is my life, I just think it’s a good title. I wanted to name it “Ernest Goes to Camp”, but apparently there’s already a movie called that.

I always think my life is going to be an awesome romantic comedy. You know the one where the best friends don’t realize their perfect for each other until he’s at the altar, ready to marry a girl who’s a super bitch. And she comes running down the isle just in time to stop the wedding, confess her love and then they ride off into the sunset on ponies. Yeah, that one. Eh, probably not going to happen. Instead my love life is more like the movie Jurassic Park 3, which just sucked. But this blog isn’t going to be a whaaaaambulence, so let’s move on.

Let’s see what to write about…….hmm…..so apparently I’m a tyrant.  Or at least I strike fear into hearts of many. Well, maybe not many, but at least like 6 or so. So from what I hear from the word on the street, there are people out there who are AFRAID to join my facebook fan page. Say whaaaaaaaaa. Yeah. Afraid. Apparently there is fear I’m going to crush and make fun of random profiles of fans of the facebook group.

I don’t know where this irrational fear is coming from, well maybe I do, but I don’t it’s something that should prevent YOU from becoming a fan and following the blog.
You’re probably thinking, “Steven you’re just being paranoid, no one is actually afraid you’re going to make fun of their profiles”. First of all, shut the fuck up. This is my blog, stop talking. Secondly, you say something again and I swear to god I’m going to put your profile on blast so hard….I mean…no…I don’t do that. I mean what I’m trying to say is I’ve heard on multiple occasions people are afraid to follow the blog because they fear I might make fun of them….

I give you Exhibit A:
During one of my daily creep sweeps of facebook I ran across this comment on a friend’s facebook wall…..

I learned 3 things from this facebook post.
1.) Staci is afraid I’m going to terrorize her and her facebook profile
2.) Staci thinks Stephanie is a slut
3.) Stephanie thinks Staci is a hooker

Let’s focus on number 1. So I’ve never met Staci, and we’re not friends on facebook. Not that I don’t think we couldn’t be friends in real life, we just aren’t. She’s read the blog, and has this impression that I’m an uber jerk who goes around making fun of random people just to be a jerk.

She’s mostly right, but what she doesn’t know is I only make fun of two types of people:
1.) Dudes who don’t know where I live
2.) Girls who don’t read my blog

As far as I can tell from your small facebook profile pic that has 3 girls in it, you Staci, fall into the “random attractive girl that reads my blog” category. Which I then would then HIGHLY encourage you read/follow the blog without any hesitation. I wouldn’t even be mad if you decided to start stalking me. I’m just saying, think about it, just throwing it out.

My dating coach better be a miracle worker

As you may recall, I got me an official dating coach.. This person with the handle name of  @onlinewingwoman, stumbled across me and my blogs and she offered her services, sounds like a win win. The process has been going well enough, had some emails back and forth, about my online profile. So I extremely appreciate her insights and thoughts in helping me with my online profile, so when I share with you her thoughts it’s in no way condescending to her. I’m saying this to stay in her good graces, Just in case she still wants to make out with me. But I digress.

She’s has some good insights, as I am going to share them with you:

1.) I smile too much in my pictures
It’s true. If you check my facebook profile pictures you will see the same SUPER cheese smile in 99 percent of my 1000 photos. She wanted me to send her some photos where I wasn’t smiling. I couldn’t find a single photo of me not smiling. This might be an issue, apparently.

2.) She suggested I buy The Game by Neil Strauss
I did. I’m currently on page 2 after two weeks of reading. It could take a while

3.) “Your main problem is that you look waaaayyyy to nice in your pictures”
FML. Looking to nice is a problem!? I don’t disagree. I just can’t do anything about that. Right!? She then said “when a guy looks too nice the girl thinks, “oh, he won’t be able to take care of me in the bedroom” FML squared. Is that really what a girl thinks when she see’s a nice guy?? Because it’s not true. Ask anyone who’s slept with me. I’ve given many of them the best 34 seconds of their lives. Did I mention most of those 34 seconds were in a row? Yeah. So think about THAT next time you see a nice guy. But I do agree, I am lacking a bad boy dangerous element to my game. But is that really the path I want to go down on? (That’s what she said)

I was also google chatting with another friend of mine, telling him some of this advice she was giving me. I told him she thought I looked to nice. His deep words of wisdom:

Awesome. I’ll keep you updated.

Our company holiday party was this weekend. I actually had a date? Don’t worry she was just friend. She was the best date ever, tons of fun. I drank too much…… shocking? I introduced her to the VP of company as my fiancé, she was awesome and went with it. Oh booze. We hit up the photo booth like 100 times. Here is the low resolution (to protect identities) picture of the pictures:

This is the year. I can feel it. The year I get the cliché midnight New Years kiss. THANK GOD my friends are avoiding the expensive hotel party this year. I HATE those things. You pay $150 to wait in line to get in, to wait in line to get “free” drinks (I paid 150 bitches!?), wait in line pee, to wait in line to get into the dance areas. No thanks. And we all go as a group and only talk to the same 15 people we brought anyways. This year were doing a house party, should be a good time with good friends. Problem with that is, since it’s going to be all my friends at this party, the midnight kiss is looking like a null point. I mean if I haven’t made out randomly with my friends now, I don’t think New Years Eve is going to be the difference maker. Should be a great time either way!

So to recap. Don’t be afraid to join the facebook fan page, I promise I won’t make fun of you. You’re probably thinking “Steven why are you harping so much on people joining your stupid little facebook fan page, isn’t that a little vain, you vain son of bitch”. Again. What the fuck did I say about talking during my blog. Do it again, and I will cut you. But, good point. Basically it’s all I got to motivate me to update this blog regularly. If I see new people joining, people commenting, commanding me to write new blogs, I’ll think people are actually interested and want me to write a new blog. Ya dig? Also comments help to…..

Have a great holiday and happy new year! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do….

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There it is. I’ve officially back posted all of my old blogs from myspace to this blog. You know what that means!? That means new blogs, from me, to you. You might be wondering “Steven, why did you start a new blog anyways?” or “Why is your face covered up in pictures of you on this blog?” or maybe even “Why SingleSteve.com? Don’t you think it’s a little much?”

First of all, stop asking so many questions. It’s really fucking annoying. Secondly, I appreciate your inquisitive nature, it’s actually the reason I’ve brought you here. To The Most important Single Steve Blog You will EVER Read.

So here’s the thing, I like writing these blogs of ridiculousness as much as you enjoy reading them. I do. But the thing is, I need to separate Single Steve from Real Life Steve, if that make sense. Stay with me on this: Single Steve and Real Life Steve are the same person, but Real Life Steve can no longer be associated with Single Steve. It’s like that time you were hooking up with that fat chick, you would pretend not to know her in public in front of all your friends, but as soon as you got drunk and no one was around, you couldn’t wait to make love to one of her folds. It’s like that.

I mean, it’s not that I’m embarrassed of anything Single Steve does, or Single Steve does anything illegal, it’s just that, well let’s be honest, sometimes Single Steve can be kind of a jerk. Sometimes Single Steve likes to go out and drink until he wakes up with carne asada in his pockets, sometimes he likes to not hook up with girls from online dating, and sometimes to make himself feel better, he makes fun of losers on Craig’s List. Sometimes.

And then there’s this Real Life Steve, who has a great engineering job, is in school for his MBA, coaches a Special Olympics basketball team, is a big brother for big brother big sisters, is president of a 30k a year non profit organization here in San Diego, and a bunch of other yada yada’s. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but this Real Life Steve sounds like he’s got some good ish going.

So my goal is to disassociate this jackass Single Steve with Real Life Steve. When you do a google search on Real Life Steve, I want it to return responsible adult stuff, not about the time I punted my camera into the ocean in drunken excitement. And likewise when you google search for “online dating sucks single humor big wang” I want it to return everything ever written by Single Steve.

I’ve been having more and more of these occurrences where I realize there is a need for a separation of these two. An example:

I was in the work cafeteria checking out what they had going on for food that day, I saw they had corned beef. I saw a co-worker in line, actually I guess I don’t need to mention that she was a co-worker since we were at the work cafeteria, but I digress, I did my analysis of the corned beef situation and thought it was a little too Irish (yeah I’m a racist) for me. So I casually mention to my friend who’s in line to get some of this delicious Irish treat, “umm Looks a little sketchy, I think I’m going to pass.” Her response? “What!? You woke up with carne asada in your pockets, and you won’t even try corned beef!?” . Really!? At this point I’m trying play it off, be Mr. Cool Pants,  like I have no idea what she’s talking about in such a LOUD tone at the WORK cafeteria, in case one of the bobs from management might of heard her comments. “psssh, who me? Carne asada in or around my pockets? That’s ridiculous”. Really Shannon Connell (yeah I’m calling her out)!? You’re going to hold the fact that I may or may not have woken up with chunks of meat in my pocket over my head because I don’t want to eat corned beef!? I mean, granted, Shannon and I are both peons at this company and it doesn’t really matter if she knows that Single Steve is actually Real Life Steve. But I would hate to be in a meeting with “The Bobs” from upper management and I just suggested this awesome engineering idea to them, but then they come back with “aren’t you that guy that got kicked out of Moondoggies for pee-ing dos equis 12 feet into the air, onto the bathroom wall? (that blogs to come, get excited)”. So yeah, I need to separate Real Life Steve from Single Steve.

This is actually a great thing for you, the readers. Since Single Steve is not associated with Real Life Steve, I won’t be as timid or hold back some of my funny jerkness. Subjects won’t be as taboo, I can write unrestricted not having to worry about whether or not Real Life Steve is losing street cred.

But you’re thinking, “I already know Real Life Steven, how can I not associated him with Single Steve?”. You’re an idiot. There I said it. I mean, good question. For a selected few, you will get the benefit of knowing both Steve’s. Just try not to F him over by announcing to everyone in the work cafeteria that he may or may not have tried to hook up with a run away homeless girl. Let’s just keep that between you and me.

I’m going to stop posting links (I think?) on my facebook for new blogs, so it’s now up to you jerks to check back frequently. You can do what other cyber nerds do and subscribe to the RSS feed, or this email thing.

ALSO, let’s be honest. I’m not doing this blog for any type of monetary gain. I’m doing this blog because I like writing funny ish and I like knowing that someone somewhere is laughing at something I’ve written. So tell your friends about this funny thing you read once on this guys website, and point them in this direction. I’ve seen facebook statuses, re-post on other people’s blog sites, yell it in a crowded room, I don’t care what it is, just tell your friends. I’m going to make a new page for the “My people” basically my way of high lighting readers who promote the blog. It’s your chance to get photoshopped with me on the moon, or might just make fun of you. Either way your face is going to be on a website, which is check by over 4 people a day, so it’s kind of a big deal.

Also if you have any friends with low self esteem who like hilarious Mexican engineers, send them my way. I’m just kidding. But seriously, if you know any girls like that, please let me know. Steve@singlesteve.com

I have a few blogs, I’m going to be posting soon. Just wanted to get the dust settled after I posted all of the old blogs. Thanks for reading!

You’ll probably want to read this blog first, so this blog makes more sense.

Updates!!! As you can imagine and I’m sure you were hoping (dicks), online dating is going AMAZING!!! Oh wait, did I say amazing, I meant please kill me it’s probably going worst than it ever was before.
Per suggestion of you wonderful people, I made an account with www.okcupid.com, it’s a pretty cool free dating website. I took some feedback of everyone and made my profile super duper awesome. Right? Maybe not.
I’ve optimistically had my profile up for about a month a half, I’ve “woo-ed” some people, which is like poking on facebook or winking on match.com. I’ve even sent out a few messages. But no dice. I think in the month and half, I’ve sent out about 40 woo-s, which a return rate of 2. BOTH of two were friends that I ran into on this website, so I don’t think they count…. And I have not once gotten an initial message from a girl, only response messages.  Eh, I don’t care too much about it. THE INTERESTING part is the fake profile I made up about five days ago. Let me introduce you to San Diego Sam:

Within the FIVE F-ING DAYS of making a profile, he has gotten several emails, several woos, and several IM’s. It’s actually REAL fucking annoying when I’m editing this fake douche bags profile, I’ll get IM’s from random hood rats hollering at him. I’m not jealous, it’s actually what I kind of expected. The response is just much greater than I was expecting so soon.

So I thought I would get serious with it and move my game up to match.com. So, like a chump, I am now paying 20 some odd dollars a month to continue the embarrassing process. At first when I was doing my searches I was really selective. Only searching based on certain ages, heights, eye colors, etc.  I would do my search, read all the profiles in depth, if I thought her and I were a suitable match, I would wink, maybe even send them a email. I was noticing a really low return rate of emails and winks, a rate of about zero point zero percent. No worries. No need to freak, I thought I was just being to picky, too selective. So I widen my search criteria, bigger age range, various heights, weights, eye colors, yada yada. Still not getting such a great response, until finally, as it stands now. If you live within 30 miles of San Diego and are between the ages of 18 and 30, there’s a 94 percent chance I’ve winked at you.
I now search for everyone on planet earth.

I don’t even read profiles anymore! I mean what’s the use, why would I spend 5-10 minutes reading and analyzing a persons profile, wondering how awesome we could be together, when there’s a 3 percent chance she’ll even respond back. It’s a numbers game now. I figure if I wink/message the greater San Diego, someone out there has to slip up and respond back. I’m not as negative as I seem, but I’m not optimistic about finding anyone online either. Eh. Well see….

You’re too awesome to date….
Have you ever been told this? I have. It’s not as awesome as you would think.
Back story:
Meet this person through a friend of a friends. She’s fantastic. Pretty, witty, smart, sarcastic, yada yada. We’ve hung out a few times, nothing date like, but we always have had a blast together. She’s the type of person where you don’t know if you want to kiss her or stab her, it’s great. Not that we have kissed, or gotten anywhere close, I’m just saying. That’s the kind of interaction I want with my future “mate”, where her wit, humor and sarcasm are keeping me on my feet. It’s keeps life interesting. Ya know. ANYWAYS. So at some point I proposed the question…. “so am I going down the BFF path or the someone you might potential date at some point in your life path?” Literally. Verbatim. The response was BFF path (SWING AND A MISS!!) Which I’m completely fine with and almost expected. I think her and I have a great interaction, and will be these fantastic friends.

It came up through later conversations that she thought “I was too awesome to date”. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!? WHAT does that even mean? Too awesome? Is there such a thing?
Is this more girl code for something? I’ve never heard this one before. I’ve done some decoding of girl speak before:

But never have I ever heard of someone being “too awesome”. Can someone decode this for me? What does she actually mean?
I mean sure, there’s a chance I actually am awesome. But can one be “too awesome to date”. Maybe I should tone down my awesomeness?

Next blog is going to be pure Craig’s List funny. Look for that soon.
Why don’t you jerks comment anymore?

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I know it sounds like I’m negative nancy pants about life, but I’m really not. Real life goes great. Work, School, Social and Community ish are all going FANTASTICALLY. Now if I could just…..

A while ago, I asked you, the blog reader to help me make a critical decision in my life. How should I go about finding dates.

The results are in, the votes have been tallied and it’s official. You fail.You, the blog readers, are completely worthless when it comes to helping me decide critical decisions in my life. I mean you guys are great, and I appreciate you reading this blog and yada yada yada, but if you ever took a multiple choice test there a 95 percent chance you would fail. I’m just saying. Alright, fine. Thanks for voting it really means a lot to me, blah blah blah. But look esse when life gives you an A or B or C option, you can’t f-ing pick option “A, B and C” or “join the navy” or option “Singles Ad in the back of the newspaper”, to name a few of the response.

But actually though I only gave you options to pick eharmony, match or real life, I appreciate the alternative solutions. Below are the results:

As you can tell there were a slew of different options. With real life, match.com and eharmony topping the list.

*math side note – I did an ANOVA analysis on the data and since the sample size was not big enough, it can not be determined that any option is more statistically significant than the other. The F statistic was outside of the bounds of Fcritical. SO BASICALLY that means, no option can picked with over a 95 percent confidence as the most dominate answer. (If you know what this means, I’m sorry)

I’ll go through a few of the your possible options as to determine its value to my dating life.

I think I’ve already done an extensive analysis of match.com and eharmony.com. But both have proven to be worthless, but ironically expensive.

So here’s what I’m thinking, I looked at the website okcupid.com and it doesn’t seem half bad. I think this is going to be my starting point of my online embarrassing journey. This website seems to be a free version of match.com, but then that leads into the question:
Are the girls on a free dating website as good of quality of those on a paid website?

Just because girls don’t want to throw down 19.99 a month to online date, does that mean they wont be as good as the girls that don’t pay anything. Hmmmm. What are your thoughts on this? Is the 19.99 a month fee really a filter between good girls and great girls?

Well I’m going to do okcupid.com as a practice profile before I jump into the big leagues of match.com.

I’ve also decided I’m going to do a alternate profile to expose online dating for all it’s awesomeness. I’m going to make a profile of a good looking uneducated unemployed loser, and see how his profile goes vs mine. I’m SOOO excited and you should be too. Is that to cruel to girls who might actually be attempting to date this guy? I don’t think so. YES! Yeah, how creepy am I. Shut your face, you’re going to love it. This will be the ONLINE DATING CHALLNEGE! Who will get more profile views, more messages, more poon? Me or a fake profile I make up! Only time will tell. You would think I have nothing better to do with my time, but I’m actually the worlds busiest man.

You should hear me cackling like mad scientist in excitement to see how this turns out.
Leave some comments, or I’ll make the fake profile with your picture.

Also. Tell your friends (AKA attractive girls that like funny Mexicans) about this blog. It’s the least you can do. Well actually the least you can do is nothing, but don’t be a jerk. Seriously.

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:

• Craig’s List All Stars 1.0

• Craig’s List All Stars 2.0

Since the last blog about Craig’s list postings didn’t turn out so bad, decided to milk the topic and do it again. Hopefully this one turns out to be more than garbage. Doubtful I know, but worth a try

This first one is a little bit of creeper.

It’s the oldest trick in the book. The old bait and switch. Like when your parents used to tell you that you were going to zoo to ride the hippos, but you were actually going to the dentist. It’s like that, but with this guy there’s a chance you might end up in little pieces.

This next one is “the best there is, period”. This ass clown’s ad caught my eye because it was titled “I am the best there is, period”, such a bold statement. I had to find out what made this guy the best. . . . .

“I am looking for a friends with benefits”, really!? Can guys just say this?
He might as well of said “I am looking for Chlamydia ASAP!”
He posted his myspace link, so I decided to do some hard core sleuthing into the best there is. This is where I discovered our friend was a masseuse who makes a 10.34 an hour. Bling bling! I’m not looking down on him because he makes 10 dollars an hour, it’s more the fact he wrote a blog bragging about this fact. WHAT!? Don’t do that. Don’t talk about how much money you make or don’t make. TOOL BOX. Period.

This one is the bread winner, I almost didn’t do this one because I fear my life if he were to find out I was making fun of this Craig’s list ad. But there is a chance he’s already in jail(no really, read below), and I don’t think they let people in jail read myspace blogs.
Heres the ad(no joking, no editing, no shit)

**insert slow clap here
Yeah, that just happened.
Let’s break this down piece by piece. I’ll just highlight a few key sections.

Starting with the title:
“got2go2court 2moro got a dum ass warnt so js incase wasup – 29″

Say what? I did a spell checker on “got2go2court2moro” and surprisingly it didn’t show up. I’m going to need to send an email to Microsoft, to see if they can add that to their vocabulary.

I think this fine young man is trying to say he has a court appearance tomorrow because he has a “dum ass” warrant and this post is just in case. Also he ads in “wasup” at the end. Classy. If that doesn’t capture the ladies attention, I don’t know what will.

“looking perhaps 4 a last lil hera just incase they deside not 2 let me come back home 2moro,plus iv got 2 move out shit just keeps getting wors,looking for someone to help me forget about all the bullshit iv got a pool tabel and a spot dont know 4 how long”

Better act quick! You could be this guys last “hera” as a free member of society. After that it’s only congenial visits. But apparently he has a pool table, so that’s good.

“how could a braud not b atracted to the valumpuis curves and hour glass figure that a thurolly bread lushus lishis tender morsul flaunts with such pride and confidence.”

This is where I get confused. The first time I read this I read “valumpuis” as vampires, and it really didn’t make sense. But then I went back and realized he meant voluptuous, which got me thinking….what the fuck!? Is he saying he’s voluptuous and has an hour glass figure? Seems like. Something about bread? Maybe it makes more sense if he was talking about vampires.

“ummm yyyuummm aaahhh the thaughts that come to mined,any hoot let me know if iv rased any intrest wat so ever,i promis ill bite ,ofcourse unless u dont wish me 2 ,thow i cant promis that i wont try to atleast sneak in a nibble”

At some point he begins eating something delicious and types out the sounds. Or so I gather. He then mentions biting some more, and at this point I am totally convinced he WAS talking about vampires.

“yyyaaaiii iiieeee yyyaaaiii de parte de svjohnybz followed by choptop then spot all 1 word at mail thats hot,without the sv in front in order to better get a hold of mwa i anckshesly await your responce o ya i stay with a wood roomate whos allso lonely i need to get that fool lade before he explodes,so feal free to shoot over with a freind race isnt an ishu”

You had me at “yyyaaaiii iiieeee yyyaaaiii”. . . .
If anyone can tell me what he meant by “svjohnybz”, that would be much appreciated.
This last part gets kind of crazy kind of quick. It’s actually impossible to decode. I’m pretty sure he just starts banging the keyboard with his court sepenia at this point in the ad.

Whew. Well there it is. It’s currently 2:45am on Monday morning and I have to be at work by 8:30. INSOMNIA sucks. Bad for me, good for the blogs.

Speaking of, I’ve become increasingly trying to whore out my blogs more and more.
Here’s my logic. People seem to “like” the blogs and get some chuckles from them. So why not share that joy with as many people as possible. I mean you like them, you’re friends will like them, etc etc. Basically I’m asking YOU to tell your friends to read this ridiculousness. Post a bulletin spreading the word. It’s the least you could do. Well, actually the least you could do is nothing, this would be the second most leastest(I know it’s not a word, fuck you, it’s 3am) thing you could do.

.

.

.

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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 aZERO. . .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.

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 aepic 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 atortilla. But instead of a tortilla, he logged me into someone else’s account.THE BEST PARTof 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:

****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.