Good Advices

A friend of ours is this neurotic pain in the ass who’s forever trying to land a hubby, a quest that’s often thwarted by her big yapper and an almost spooky propensity to hump dudes on the first date. This morning, she sends us an email asking if we have any “hard and fast rules” about how women should behave in the early going so as not to scare a man off. Our response: “Since you can’t seem to keep your legs crossed, we’ll make it simple. Don’t ever let a guy put it in your pooper on the first date. Let’s just say that allowing that kind of thing to happen before you know his middle name more or less guarantees you’ll never fulfill your dream of going shoe shopping with his mom.”

Because she is needy and addled, our friend continued to pepper us with all sorts of follow up questions, the answers to which we present here to our two faithful readers. (Hello Jean Claude! Hello Ray Ray!). We excised her stuff because it’s probably not ethical for us to disseminate her inane musings on the Inter-Web, and edited our own remarks based on some loosely defined categorical imperatives:

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING FUNNY:

(She mentioned something about how women aren’t supposed to be funny, and that men who are funny should tone it down on a first date because they come off as “too intense and starved for attention.” Nuts to that.)

“Can’t say we agree with you on the not being funny part, ____. Girl-type people are very quick to associate the ha ha with the hoo-ah. By being the most hilarious mofo in the room, you release endorphins in them that make them forget that they probably shouldn’t invite strange men over for a spirited round of tongue spelunking mere hours after meeting them. The TJTBT Secret™ is a three-fold process: 1) Be hilarious, 2) be really really good at [redacted] and 3) pretend to listen.”

ON NOT BUMMING THE DUDE OUT WITH ALL YOUR DEAD MOM STORIES:

“And don’t talk about a dead parent on a first date. You may well recall how we once got c*ck blocked from beyond the grave by this girl’s dead mother. Seriously, one minute we’re about to make our first foray into her Shameful Baby Area, the next minute it’s as if a pair of spectral hands were slapping away at our tumescence like a Thalidomide baby trying to play Gnip Gnop. Turns out the day we got together for drinks was the 3rd anniversary of her moms going peace out like Hoon. If nothing else, this brought into question the girl’s ability to use a calendar.”

ON OUR ULTIMATELY CYNICAL AND DEPRESSING WORLDVIEW, WHICH INFORMS OUR DATING PHILOSOPHY (COMPLETE WITH YET ANOTHER EGREGIOUS TERRI SCHIAVO REFERENCE):

“Here’s the problem with people our age who haven’t been married yet: We’re all damaged goods. When we’re with someone we feel smothered, when we’re alone, we’re miserable. In between, we fuck loads of strangers who inevitably do something creepy and/or embarrassing, until we have to tell them to get lost. For whatever reason, we are emotionally unavailable and that part of the psyche that’s supposed to play a big chemical trick on us and make us fall in love with the people we fuck is all inert and wonky, like that Mylar balloon wafting in front of Terri Schiavo’s zombie face. Luckily, people in their 20s don’t know any of this, so we can take advantage of them. Our brooding just makes us seem deep and smart when in fact we’re just thinking about how to get you out of the house so that we can breathe again.

“So we guess there is just one rule, which is always date people in their 20s. They are gullible little optimists and their bodies are in their lush, peachy prime. You can roll over them with your psychosexual steamroller and not even feel all that bad because, like all young things, they bounce back quickly and in so doing become stronger than ever. Hell, it’s like you’re doing them a service.”

AND IN CLOSING:

“Seriously, don’t forget about the restricting access to the pooper part. That’s the most important rule of them all. Like the 6th commandment, or whichever one says don’t kill people.”