Posts Tagged funny
Epic Date. Epic Fail.
Posted by admin in Uncategorized on March 5, 2010
*DISCLAIMER** This is MY interpretation of this date. The following is based on a true story. My life. Please keep in mind this is a blog on the interweb. I DO NOT want you commenting on her facebook/twitter/blog/etc negative things, I’m not looking to start a blog war. Feel free to comment on this blog, in fact, I insist you do. This is only a blog. Grow up.
Now this is a story, all about how, my life got flipped-turned upside down, and I like to take a minute, just sit right there, and tell you how I went on a date that ended in complete despair.
This blog is about a date. What was supposed to be, an epic date. It was date between myself and this other single, attractive, funny, Hispanic, blogger that lives in San Diego. Sounds like my soul mate right? Keep reading……
The Setup
Where to start, where to start…..I guess I’ll start at the very very beginning. The beginning is, how I even stumbled upon her blog in the first place. Good question. I guess it occurred during one of my weekly creep sweeps of twitter and facebook. You know, creep sweeps, where you type into facebook something you’re looking for and see what pops up. Here are some examples:
So yes, was doing one of my weekly creep sweeps, when I ran across her facebook fan page The Dating Chronicles of a San Diego Single. So, me, being the mature adult I am, didn’t send her an message, didn’t make any actual contact with her, instead I posted about it on my facebook fan page like an 8th grade child.
The ball kind of got rolling from there. Everybody was asking when I was going to ask her out. This I had to think about, was I going to ask her out as Single Steve or Real Life Steve. The best advice I was given, came from this girl:
We were at a bar, 1, 2 or 8 drinks deep when Kelly told me I need to man up and send this girl a real email as Real Life Steve. So I did. I took the serious approach, for once. Here is the email I sent:
After that we set a date. I was actually nervous and slightly excited. Which is rare for me to feel that way about a date, especially after my last date. So anyway, we then decided that it would be a fun idea to let our readers make suggestions for our date. It was funny because she posted the question to her twitter followers first, and she was getting some really good legit suggestions.
When I posted it to my twitter, this is when I realized my readers might be assholes. I’m JUST kidding, you’re not assholes, most of you, some of you are just funny. Here’s the advice I was given:
So as you can tell I got some really good input about my date. I actually did get some good suggestions on places to go. I knew she liked Italian food and wine, so I made reservations according. I actually made reservations at 3 different Italian places in San Diego. I figured it was better to have options, than to not have options and end up at Peter Piper Pizza and yelling “Surprise!!” I canceled the other 2 reservations hours before the actual date, after I picked out the perfect spot….
The day of the date, I left early work, got my gangster fade, got my car washed and even bought some new jeans, just for this date. Like I said, it was on, like donkey kong. Later, while on the actual date, I remember thinking and probably saying out loud “I got my car washed for this!?”
The Date
I google mapped her place and saw she lived “6 minutes away”, me being narcotic about being punctual, left 20 minutes before I was supposed to pick her up, you know, just incase. I drove by the place, got my bearings and parked down the street. I was actually nervous for this date. Weird. I don’t get nervous. I can present to a group of hundreds with no problem, but one pretty girl and I start stuttering and fumbling my words, and yes, I get nervous.
I pull up to her condo, park, get out, and text her that I was “huuur”. On that note, at this point, we had not spoken a single word to each other, nor had I actually seen more than a side profile photo of her. I guess that’s how the cookie crumbles when you facebook/twitter/stalk/blog meet someone. I’m outside waiting for her, she makes her way down the steps towards the car, I can feel my palms start to sweat. She gets within eye contact range, I notice she’s even prettier in person than she was in her thumbnail of facebook profile picture. Dear Diary, Jackpot. Funny thing about the thumbnail facebook picture, it only showed her upper half, it was at this point I realized I had no fucking idea how tall she was. Turns out she was at least 5’11. Shit. The only thing that could have hindered this date, did. I approach her and give her a “hi hello nice to meet you hug”, of course I had to tippy toe, hoping she didn’t notice the obvious height differential.
Let me start off by saying I don’t have a height complex. Not at all. I’m 5’9 (well 5’8 and a half), and feel like that’s a pretty average height for a guy. In fact, I looked this up. The average height for a man is 5 feet 9.2 inches, and the average height for a woman is 5 feet 3.8 inches. FACT. I am average height for an adult male. FACT. She was 2 standard deviations taller than the normal distribution of women heights.
I’ve dated girls taller than me, not a big issue. It’s just, admittedly, a little intimidating.
*FACT: I drive an Infinity G35. For those of you that think I actually drive a white rape van as described in her blog, you’re idiots.
But I digress, she gets in the car, smells real pretty and we start our adventure. I start driving, on our way out to the freeway we pass her favorite club, she lets me know it’s basically TJ night every night. Sounds awesome. . . .
Our reservations are for 7:30 at Il Fornaio, a recommendation from a reader for Italian, looked good on the interweb. Here’s the view from our table:
We’re seated, we order a bottle of wine, and conversation continues. I thought the conversation was going well? I’m not sure. She kept interrupting me to tell me about her past dates and how they used to fly her out on their jets, but also how she “wasn’t impressed with that”. I felt like telling her, “well I go on dates with chubby chicks, but I’m not impressed with that”, but somehow I don’t think that’s the same thing.
She also felt the need to keep mentioning how her more recent boyfriend was a TV star. Not only do I not have a jet, I also don’t have my own TV show. Sorry.
I thought our conversation was going well? Apparently not, we both “checked” phones, and I saw a twitter update from her 2.3 seconds later…..
Awesome. I think it was at this point we both realized this date had gone south, but dinner hadn’t even arrived yet, so we had to stick it out.
Dinner couldn’t come quick enough, AND when dinner finally got there she stole my plate. I’m all about sharing, but she literally took my plate to her half of the table. This is an actual picture of her stealing my food.
She said “By the way, I’m going to steal your food”, so I guess that makes it okay!?
Dinner was delicious, the small amount I was allowed to steal away when she wasn’t looking. We finished dinner, finished the bottle of wine, and both “checked” our phones again. And again 2.3 seconds later I saw her twitter updated with…
I wanted to respond via twitter with “@sdlolo It’s spelled “whack” sasquatch”, but I didn’t. I refrained.Ftw! It’s time to pay the bill and leave. I’m sorry I don’t own a jet, but I’ll at least buy dinner.
We make our way back to her house, just as I’m dropping her off, by some divine chance, Mariah Carey’s “Why you so obsessed with me” comes on, I dedicate the song to her and wish her a good night. I got the old awkward side car hug, which is basically 3rd base, so yeah, it was pretty good night.
Would I go on another date with said girl?
Yeah, I think we really have something special.
If you want to read her interpretation of the date go here:
Chapter 14. A Leprechaun and Sasquatch
See all these social media buttons I’ve plastered all over my site?? Use them.
Your thoughts? Is she the one that got away?Leave me some comments.
Okcupid.com Date: FAIL
Posted by Single Steve in humor on January 29, 2010
Let me just start off by saying, I’m terrible internet human being. Absolutely terrible, probably the worst.
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 5th photo was the most attractive, but I feel like that was also the LEAST recent. The 4th was the next best and so on, until you get to her main profile picture (1st photo), which looks almost like a completely different person from her 5th photo.
Yeah, I’m a terrible. Oh well. And it’s not like I haven’t put on weight since the 8th 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 8th 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 3rd, 5th, and 7th 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.
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Let me just start off by saying, I’m terrible internet human being. Absolutely terrible, probably the worst.
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 dater 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 5th photo was the most attractive, but I feel like that was also the LEAST recent. The 4th was the next best and so on, until you get to her main profile picture (1st photo), which looks almost like a completely different person from her 5th photo.
Yeah, I’m a terrible. Oh well. And it’s not like I haven’t put on weight since the 8th 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 8th grade weight. All of my pictures 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 3rd, 5th, and 7th 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
I’ll keep you posted. Also big thanks to Shawn from Ragoboo.com, he was critical in helping me draft the perfect facebook message to her. Check out his blog, it’s most hilarious!
2010. The Year of the Tiger. And Single Steve?
Posted by Single Steve in humor on January 7, 2010
Prepare yourself, this is kind of a long one (That’s what she said)
A new year a new blog! Actually this is the second blog I’ve written this year, the first one being part 3 of the PB Millionaire series. But I had a change of heart…..for the moment, I’m giving him the opportunity to shape up. Basically, I offered my free services to him to help him be less of douche. If he doesn’t respond to my email, I’m going to continue to blast him for the outstanding douche he probably is. I’ll keep you posted….
But let’s get back to the year two thousand fucking ten. First of all, how epic does that sound? 2010!? I know right. I don’t know about you, but when I was like 15, the year 2010 seemed like a million years away (or at least more than 11 years away). I thought for sure by then I would be a millionaire, married, with at least 2 kids, living on the moon.
Can we pause for a second and talk about how fucking cute was I when I was kid? What happened to me? Somehow I grew up into a nerdy Mexican. Interesting how science and puberty works, but that’s not here nor there. I also don’t know why I used to dream of having 2 little Asian kids. I’m glad that phase passed.
So it’s the year 2010 and I’m not a millionaire, I can’t get a date to save my life, I have no kids (that I know of….), and I live in the gay district in San Diego (which is almost like living on the moon). Though I’m not upset at my current life situation. Not at all. In fact, if I could travel back in time, I would probably go back in time and beat myself up, or at least get one of the bully kids to beat me up more. When your 15, you have no idea about the world, you set these unrealistic goals, and then get upset when you don’t meet these goals and you’re not living on the moon married to Kelly Kapowski.
I’m 26 and living the good life. I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, if I could, I’d like to be taller, and be a millionaire…..and live on the moon…..and be married to Kelly Kapowski, but other than that, I wouldn’t change a thing about my life.
Now that it’s actually the year 2010, I think I’m old enough to know enough about life to actually make more accurate predictions. Right? Maybe not, but this is why I’m thinking this is The Year of Single Steve
Why is the year of Single Steve you ask? Stop asking stupid questions. I’m mostly just being optimistic for the upcoming year, but why not. It’s the year 2010, it sounds epic, so why not have an epic year?
Let’s start with New Years Resolutions.
Actually I think this might be the missing link to why I’m single. I’ve had dozens of friends scourer over my online profile, and come back with the same conclusion, “Well you sound okay on paper”, which I think is mostly true. I mean I have a job, I’m not a jerk, and sometimes I’m funny, I should be hooking up with online chicks all the time right? No one can figure it out. I’ve figured it out. You guys are pussies (excuse my language ladies). But it’s true. No one can actually just tell me I’m chubby. Say it. Say “Steven, I think if you lost 15 pounds, THEN you would be getting dates like it’s your job”. So I’m hoping THIS is the X factor. If not, I can always go back drinking ranch like that’s my job.
This comic pretty much nails it on the head.
So basically I really need to stop doing THAT. Which kind of sucks because my whole philosophy on girls that I date is that they must be friends first. I think that’s important because I feel like really epic relationships are friendships more than relationships. If that makes sense. I’m not trying to get all romantical up on you, but I feel like one day I’m going to marry my best friend. I feel like the underlying friendship is what makes a long lasting forever type of relationship. I mean friendships are fun, and so should a relationship be. Okay, okay, stop puking on your keyboard. I’m sorry I tried to get all deep on you for like half a second. You’re such a fucking baby. Onto number 3.
I also would like to write blogs more frequently. I know I always say that, but this time I mean it? In other exciting news, the facebook fan page has over 500 “fans”. What ever that means. I guess the 17 times a charm for me harassing my friends to join the page. Feel free to invite your attractive friends! I guess you can also invite unattractive friends too.
Click here to join!
I bet you are all wondering who my midnight kiss was….
So I posted this on my facebook fan page. As a joke. Mostly.
And Kevin responded about a minute later calling dibs, unfortunately he wasn’t around when the clock struck zero. But you know who was…
That’s right. Nacho Fucking Cheese. Nacho Cheese will never leave me. So yeah, I didn’t get the cliché midnight kiss, which I don’t actually care about anyways. Well I mean, I say that now, now that I didn’t have one. I did New Years at a chill house party in PB. It was just a small group of friends, drinking, playing cranium, just what we wanted. And they had really good cheese dip, so it was a good night all in all. Which was fun, even though I was sober sally. I know right. I only had 2 beers the whole night. That sounds unpossible, but it’s true.
An interesting turn of events is unfolding as we speak….. I mentioned before I had already written a blog about the PB millionaire and kind of had a change of heart about posting it just yet…. I actually sent the PB millionaire an email here is a portion and the gist of it:
“……………From my outside perspective….it looks like he is this arrogant older guy who parties with girls half his age, who sometimes does “good” for the community. Sometimes. He doesn’t appear to be a good public speaker, dynamic, or interesting enough to have his own reality show. Whether these things are true or not, I don’t know. But based on the information I have access to, this is how he is probably seen. If you google PB millionaire, there is more negative then positive about him out there.
The branding of the PB Reality show has to be able to with stand criticism from internet media and bloggers like myself. Right now he’s easy target.
I want to help. I think I can help with your branding, social media and web content so that the PB Reality show actually comes off as something people would be interested in…….”
Basically I want to help him. I think he’s trying to be a good person? Maybe? But just sucks at it, or just sucks at publically displaying it.
I got an email back from him and his angels today…
I’m not to going to give full details yet because I’m not sure I can/should. But basically… they’re weary that I’m actually there to help, they mention something about lawyers, and I think they even called me a jerk at some point.
“There MIGHT be a possibility of getting your advice in the future, but until all the slanderous, hateful blogs written about Jim and his staff are removed from the internet, we will not even consider communicating with you further.”
It’s kind of catch 22. I’m not going to take down any blogs until he changes his public perception, and they’re not going to let me help him with his public perception until I take down the blogs.
What to do….what to do….
Either way, I’m not concerned about being sued or anything. At best my blogs are editorials opinions based on information HE has posted in the public domain. It would be like if I wrote a bad movie review for Avatar, would Avatar be able to sue me? Or if I wrote Tiger Woods is a jerk for cheating on his wife, could he sue me? Erroneous!
This link makes me feel safer:
http://thedirty.com/contact-us/
I’m genuinely trying to help this guy, but he’s trying to make it difficult. I’ll keep you posted and updated.
Happy New Year!
Comment. It makes me happy.
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!
I'm Back!?
Posted by Single Steve in humor on October 9, 2009
I know I know. It’s been too long. Way too long (That’s what she said), but I’m back, and back with a fury.
Where did I go you ask? I was in a little place called Relation City, USA. Yep, it’s true, Single Steve actually had a girl friend. Shocked are you? Fuck your couch, its possible. It was a great relationship, absolutely nothing with her, she was actually quite awesome. Some people think I’m an idiot/jerk to break up with her when the relationship was going great. Maybe. Probably. I have no ill feelings and wish her the best of luck to her.
Blah blah blah, you jerks don’t care, be honest. You’re probably just thinking “Make me bicycle clown!” get back to be single, funny and ridiculous. Okay, okay, stop yelling. I’m right here. I’m back on schedule.
Step one is get back on online dating. Check. I logged onto my match.com account and was surprised to see I still had until November to embarrass myself. I forgot I “didn’t find love” in my first 6 months of my subscription, so Dr. Phil gave me another 6 free months of embarrassment. Hurray! I’m also doing okcupid.com which is a free, but don’t worry that’s going pretty terrible too.
I actually was pretty excited I got an email saying I got a message on okcupid.com from a GIRL! I know right. A girl. So anyways, I could tell from my email that I had a message, but I couldn’t see what the message was or who the girl was.
So the whole day I was giddy like a little school girl with excitement. I almost never get messaged, so this was a pretty big deal. AND her name “LawLady85”, sounds kind of sexy right? Sounds like she’s about 24 years old and lawyer, awesome. Usually I get emails from names like “MomOfFive”, “MustLoveMy12Cats”, “ItsOkayIhaveAgreatPersonality”.
So I couldn’t check it because I was at work, so the whole day I was giddy with excitement thinking about the possibilities that lie ahead. I break into door, open up okcupid.com, furiously smash in my password and navigate to my messages. And there it was, there it was. A message, as promised, from LawLady85, who turns out to be a friend from college, fml. But Steven she could still want on right? Negative. Her message was basically, “write me a blog clown”. Nice. Thanks LawLady85……
But if any one is looking to date an attractive lawyer please see:
http://www.okcupid.com/profile/lawlady85
Tell her you saw her post on Craig’s List.
Match.com isn’t going much better. Below is an actual email I got a few days ago…
I leave you with some Craig List Losers:
Craigs List Shorty
I’m switching over to a facebook fan page. Join and Ill write more blogs. Promise.
Join here
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Single-Steve/147717841098?ref=ts
Leave comments, they make me feel justified in writing blogs
PB Millionaire: Part 1
Posted by Single Steve in humor on April 8, 2009
Let me start off by saying I am ridiculously excited about this series of blogs that is about to occur. I am literally, literally hyper ventilating about the cynical thoughts that about to come out my brain, down my fingers and into your computer screen.
Jim Lawlor
Why am I so excited you ask? Well, let me introduce you to Jim Lawlor.
Seems like a normal enough guy right? Okay okay. NOW please direct your browsers to www.PBMillionaire.com.
UPDATE: He has now changed his website and branding to: www.pbreality.com A little different, but still just as terrible.
Take a second. Soak it in. I’ll give you a minute to browser around and check out all the fantasticness of his site. Let me know when your ready for my analysis of The PB Millionaire.
<waiting>
<waiting>
<waiting>
Yep. That just happened. NO I didn’t make up this website, post ridiculous fake pictures, make up a ridiculous back story about a fake millionaire douche bag, who lives in a castle in PB for the purposes of this blog. Though it might appear that way, I promise you this guy is 100 percent real. Well, real in the sense, that he’s a real douche.
There’s just so much to talk to, where to start. I think I’m going to have to do this in a 2 parts. This first blog is going to be just about the PB Millionaire himself, his glorious invention, his 11 friends on myspace, and other stalkerish things I can find out about him.
Part two will be about the website it self, taking a deep dive into the videos and photos on the webpage.
So I guess I do a summary of this guy to get us all on the same page.
Summary:
Apparently this guy invented something, became a millionaire. Bought a castle in PB. And now he spends his time throwing lavish parties and outings with hookers, I mean models.. He also had a “website designed with the intention of improving my social life, overcoming my shyness, and possibly creating a buzz for a prospective reality show.” Wow…..
Before I even began my analysis of his website, I did my homework. Hardcore. I researched, like a creep, anything and everything there was to know about the PB millionaire, so I could come in and make a fair analysis of his situation. I just didn’t want to base my opinion on his one shitty website. Maybe he just had a bad web master, who portrayed him to be a douche bag. It turns out quite the opposite. Who ever does his web design, videographer and photography are fucking miracle workers. Believe it or not, this guy is WORST than what he appears to be on this finely polished website.
My thoughts of PB Millionaire:
First of all, oh my fucking god, are you serious. Secondly, no seriously, are you fucking serious? For those of you that don’t know Jim Lawlor as intimately as I do, let me fill you on some history. At some point Jim invented something and became a “Millionaire”, it’s unclear if he’s always been a douche, or became one after he became “rich”. You’re probably wondering, what fantastic invention did he invent!? Was it something to better mankind, peace on earth, maybe a cure for cancer? Maybe it was something complicated, involving cold fusion or sharks with lasers?
Nope. He “invented” spray goggles. Yep. Spray goggles that have a film over the lenses. So when you vision gets blocked by paint on your goggles, you turn a crank and pull over a new clean film over your lenses. See http://www.safetyamerica.com/
I mean sure it’s a good idea, and probably got some practical use, but someone can actually become a “millionaire” from something as terrible as this? Whatever. Fine, so he sells these things on his 1996 looking website, and has enough to buy a castle in PB. How he sells anything on that website is baffling.
After my stalker research I found out his address and it turns out he doesn’t even live in PB. I’m not going to give his actual address because that might be a bit much.
That’s not PB. Don’t kid yourself. According to google you live in a place called Jolla Mesa. And google is never wrong. Never.
Continuing my stalking I found his facebook fan page, with a grand total of 3 fans and his myspace with a whooping 11 friends. I may or may not have over 350 fans of my blog on facebook and 677 friends on myspace. I’m just saying. That doesn’t make me better than him, but it does. And let’s be honest. People have friends for a reason. When someone doesn’t have any friends on a social network it’s probably because no one likes them enough to be friends, even in cyberspace. Which is rough, because the interweb lets all kinds of people that wouldn’t be friends be friends.
According to his myspace he’s 43. Dude, you’re too old for PB. Was RanchoBernardoMillionaire.com already taken? I think its at 32 years old, when PB bars actually stop letting you in. It’s not okay for you to be in PB anymore. Stop. You’re the creepy old guy. I’m 25 and I’m almost too old for PB.
Speaking of myspace. Click on this link if you dare:
An actual photo from his myspace pics
I just threw up in my mouth. Just a little.
This was just part one, a pretense to the actual blog. Part two is coming soon, fully exploring his website, and some gems of youtube videos I found on him. Get excited.
Here it is…..
PB Millionaire, Part 2
How to get kicked out of Moondoggies
Posted by Single Steve in humor on March 31, 2009
On any given Thursday night there’s a 75 percent chance you will find me at Moondoggies (AKA Dude-Doggies/Line-Doggies) in PB. This jumps greatly to about 90 percent if I don’t have to work on that Friday, which happens to occur every other Friday. The following is a true story that happened a few weeks ago on such a magical Thursday night.
How to get kicked out of Moondoggies
Night’s going well. I’m feeling good about it, I don’t have to work tomorrow, I’m 5,6,7, 12 beers deep, and I’m hanging out with the greatest group of friends. Living the dream.
Anyone that knows me, knows I have the bladder of a 12 year old girl. Fact. Not a big a deal, a lot of grown men have the bladders of infants. So what. So I just got a brand new Dos Equis for the low low price of 2 American dollars, when I realize it’s been about 7 minutes since I last peed, and I should probably go again. I patiently wait in line, fumbling with my phone, thinking it’s almost time to start the drunk dials. Finally, it’ my turn to pee, I walk up to the urinal and place my beer on top of the metal piping leading to the urinal. I’ve done this a million times, a million. For the record that metal piping is a great beer holder, and I’d rather place it there than on top of the porcelain urinal. So I’m doing my thing, like it’s my job, when I see my beer start to slip off the top of my pipe holding place. This is where time slows down, matrix style, and I use my ninja like reflexes to reach up with my left hand and grab the falling beer. I think I even yelled a slow motion “noooooooooooo”. I caught it! Hurray! Saved two dollars in beer. Unfortunately since it was a brand new beer, it shook up and did that volcano thing where it shoots out like you’re celebrating winning the championship. Except I didn’t win a championship, I just caught my beer. It made a mess all over the wall, I’m going to be honest, but it was like 3 feet above the urinal so I thought it wasn’t a huge deal. I regain composure, zip up and start washing my hands…..
I’m washing my hands, when I hear “WHO THE FUCK PEED ALL OVER THE WALL!?” Me, with my back turned to the world, as I wash my hands, assume it’s some guy joking because I obviously didn’t peed on the wall 13 feet in the air. So I jokingly raised my hand, and said “yeeeeeep, I peed alllllll over the wall!” (in a sarcastic drunk voice). Just then, Muscle Mcgee secrurity guard reaches over and smashes my beer into the garbage, and informs me “It’s time to go”. At this point I STLL think he’s joking because I mean come on, does he really think I used my 46 since inch vertical and THEN peed on the wall!?
I comply because in my drunk stooper, I assume for some reason he’s going to escort me out of the bathroom and say “Just kidding! I know you didn’t pee on on the roof! Thanks for coming in, always a pleasure to see you. Have you lost weight??” Turns out he didn’t say any of that. In fact, it finally occurred to me “OH shit, he’s not joking, I’m being kicked out”. This is at the point I’m being shoved through the dance floor with flash lights being shined in my face, to help guide me out. I try to explain to him the silly mix up of how it’s not pee, it’s beer, but it’s way too loud. I get outside, see the line queued up to get in, I try and plead my case one more time. The last thing I remembered yelling at him was “BUT…but… I’m the Designated Driver, you can’t kick me out!?” He didn’t even respond. He just stared. I was obviously drunk, obviously not the DD, and obviously defeated by the super genius bouncers at the door. I walked away laughing at the ridiculousness that just occurred, walked to a friends house where I called it a night.
And that’s how you get kicked out of Moondoggies for doing nothing. Well, almost thing.
p.s.
I er um actually need a date for a wedding this Saturday (April 4th) …..if that story about being kicked out of a bar didn’t deter you, please let me know. It’s Saturday night….Steve@SingleSteve.com OR if you know my real facebook or gmail….. But seriously, I need a date and I promise you a fun time.
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How Not to Get an Online Date
Posted by Single Steve in humor on March 25, 2009
Online dating shenanigans continue. I’m 2 months away from Dr. Phil confirming the fact that I am incapable of finding “someone special” in the first 6 months of my match.com experience. What a dick. At least I’ll get 6 more embarrassing months for free? Fml. Fuck my “someone special”, I would settle for just a date at this point. I haven’t even been on one date, NOT ONE, in the last 4 months of paying 24.99 per month. Really? Apparently I’m Shrek. That’s fine. I mean I don’t pretend to be Johnny Handsom-pants, in fact I know I’m not. That’s why I’ve had to developed my other “attractiveness” characteristics. Like being funny….. and a ninja. Girls still find these attractive, right?
I’m also doing okcupid.com which is a free online dating website, don’t worry, I haven’t been on any dates from there either. Maybe I’m just a bad online dater? Below is a hilarious example of an actual email chain I had with a girl from okcupid.com. It’s not typical of my communications of online dating, but I’m glad I did it.
Scenario:
I do my browsing (creep sweeps) of profiles of girls that meet my “match”, I do a quick visual analysis of the profile picture and from there I make the decision of whether or not I’m going to continue and open up her profile. If you’re thinking to yourself “that’s pretty shallow Steven…”, fuck your couch. You’d be lying if you thought physical attractiveness wasn’t initially important. No one says from across the bar “Man, that guy looks funny, I’m going to go talk to him”. No one.
Anyways, I do my shallow Hal analysis and then proceed to her profile. Below is a said example, girl is super hotness in thumbnail sized pic, so I proceed to her profile.
Below is a snap shot of the first part of her profile.
I blurred some of the words to make her look more like a jerk than she actually is. It helps me build a case empathy of my feelings towards her, stay with me. My analysis of her profile is she comes off as “tool cool for school”, if people even still say that. She’s attractive and is doing online dating, so she pretty much holds all the cards, unfortunately. She can be a jerk and still get guys winking at her. She must get a million emails from tool bags, starting with the words “Hey Sexy”, so I can understand her defensiveness of online dating tools.
I’m realistic, I realize my chances are probably about a 3 percent chance she’ll respond to any email I send, so I shoot her a short, concise, non serious, half joking, not expecting a response, email.
Yep. That just happened. Ha! I’m not sure what got into me. I’m never a jerk on online dating, not even when I get the “please stop winking at me” automated emails from match.com
Maybe I was just so surprised she responded? I mean she pretty much set herself up for that old “hope you get hit by a bus” gag. Needless to say we didn’t fall in love.
That’s how not to get a date from online dating.
Also it looks like according to the little voting thing I have on the left hand side of this blog that people want me to write about Craig’s list? Is this true? I have a couple hundred “hits” a day, but only 27 votes. Let me know what you jerks want. kisses.
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