How to Attract a Mate: Do the Creep

Do the Creep. Do the Creep.

The Moral of the Story:
This is how you make friends at the ATM.

This sad attempt as a mating ritual has been going on since the dawn of time. This vulturous behavior is primarily found among the male gender but there is now a rising female creeper population. The female practice is a bit more subtle than the male methods. For the most part, the female equivalent to the male creeper method of attraction is the phenomena known as "Facebook Creeping" or "Facebook Stalking." This popular practice is conducted through Facebook where the creeper "oogles" and "ogles" their target but has little to no intention of interacting with them, unlike their male counterparts. 

To make a thing clear, there is a difference between stalking and creeping. Stalking is the intent on which one is pursuing through obsession. "Creeping" is an opportunistic practice. Stalking and long term stalking can result in police intervention; creeping however merely results in a pathetic, yet entertaining, display of courtship. One can be potentially dangerous and the other could be potentially humiliating. Keep in mind though that creeping can result in stalking but true creepers never reach that level.

There are several more interpretation of the M.Os of creepers but in this post is probably the most simplistic.

The LonelyIsland can give you an idea of the practice.

Valentine's Day Sucks for Dentists, Diabetics and Dinosaurs

Valentine’s Day.

     It’s one of those holidays that don’t even qualify as a holiday because it, of course, is only created for commercial enterprise.

     I’m not hating on the “spirit” of V-Day, but I do get a growing respect for dentists. I mean, think of all that candy that people eat. When you have a Valentine’s you get candy from the significant other (unless you are diabetic, then that would have to be “sugar free, really gross” candy)—and usually it’s by the bucket full (most likely shaped in a heart)--BUT! Someone may also eat their single-ness away with their self-bought candy. So it’s a lose-lose for the enamel on your teeth. Plus, Valentine’s Day candy I think is probably all the rejected candy that wasn’t bought over the year and then recycled (I’m excluding those ridiculously priced, but ridiculously delicious candies), and then reformed into heart shaped sugary statements of lurrrrrrrve.

     I want to know if there is a spike in dentist visits after holidays such as Valentine’s Day. Or Easter. But, I’m not going to discuss Easter. That bunny and I have a bet going. And I can’t lose.

     I digress.

     Okay, so back to Valentine’s Day.

     It’s cool that there is a day marked out for one to share their love. Most cynics—[America seems to be the Hipster-Cynic Capital of the Universe]-- hate on Valentine’s day for its commercialized nature, but you know what? More power to the moneymakers who produce the cheap candy and pretty bouquets.       They are pretty to look at, and eat and red is a really rad color. February 14^th, is just like any other day except there is pressure for commitment, and what’s so bad about that? Sure your wallet may have a hole burned through it by the end of the night, but seriously—

      --If you throw a good v-day for your significant other, I think one will receive a fantastic reward for conforming.

     A.k.a.: The secks. Or at least, a great night by yourself (/and/ or with friends) pigging out on candy and watching sappy love movies as a testament to your awesomeness, or depression because you desire to share your heart with someone (and that’s not something to be ashamed of.) Or you don’t and just want the cheap candy.

     People call this holiday: “Single Awareness Day” as backlash against V-Day. Yep. It totally is, but at the same time, it’s kosher to be single. More money in your pocket. See? Always look on the bright side.    Cynics can kiss my lovely ass as I don’t have one thought or another on V-Day as a singlet or as involved-person. To each their own, right?

     I just feel bad for those dentists.

     And diabetics. Since they can’t eat the awesome, real, candy.

 

     There are some scenarios that I have thought of over the years of the perfect V-Day:

As a Single-Person:

So, in the morning, treat yourself to the best coffee shop in the world. Make sure your I-pod (or Zune, if anyone still has one…) is blasting a playlist made up of various artists singing their little hearts out about love and the various incarnations. Maybe not “Love the Way You Lie”, but more along the lines of “Check Yes Juliet” and “Hey There Delilah”, throw in some Techno too (or Dubstep)--I don’t know, just make your own playlist, this is hypothetical situation people!

Anyways, afterwards, walk around doing whatever you do and at night. Go to the store. Buy a lot of candy and your favorite take-out food. Go home. Watch a movie (or play videogames) and applaud yourself for being awesome.

      As a Not-Single person:

      Depending on who your partner is and likes, there can be many choices.

Unique: Be original.

1.     Make a scavenger hunt and cook dinner (you’ll have an all access pass for the night of bed-romping, unless well…you aren’t there yet in the relationship).

2.     Or go food-hopping, buying one appetizer from various establishments and picnic (if possible).

3.     Options are endless. Come on!

As a first-Date:

Awkward timing. But go for it if you really like the person I guess?

As a dinosaur:

Well, everyone knows dinosaurs are diabetic, and so they all went into diabetic shock when they celebrated the first V-Day—thus the extinction of the entire pre-historic world.

As a survivor of the apocalypse/zombie hordes:

Oh come on. Valentine’s day would be replaced with “most creative killing contest” and whoever wins gets the last recovered box of shitty chocolate hearts from Costco®.

So, moral of the story: Valentine’s Day is pretty sweet if you’re not a dinosaur, Diabetic and not a dentist. 

I'm Not Even Mad. I'm Impressed.

At this point, I can't even get mad. In fact, I am thoroughly impressed. Like genuinely impressed. Not in a bad way. Its impressive like how  actors like Seth Rogen,  Adam Sandler,  and all those other Hollywood shlubs end up in love (banging) the hottest chick in the film.  Or impressive like how Seth Rogen became a superhero (well not "super" I guess but a comic book icon...) Or even how I manage to get decent grades in school when I start my shit the night before (I do not recommend this approach, for instance as I am writing this, I should be writing a critical analysis of something I don't care about).

Either way I wish I was this impressive.

Apparently it takes three days from a a thing of beauty to go to hell. From an empty sink devoid of dirty pots to a crime scene worthy of a FBI investigation. I am thoroughly convinced that I have evil gnomes in my house who take delight in torturing my pure and virgin soul (lies....). I have tried catching these elusive little bastards but alas, I am always outsmarted by those pointy hat midgets. 

When in doubt, blame it on the gnomes.

As an expert, I can tell you that these little, evil creatures dwell in everyone's home. There are different sub-species of evil gnomes and they all relate to some kind of chore that A.) you hate or B.) you don't want to do or both of the above. Regardless of whether you like it or not they are here to stay because they have nothing to do and because they are A-holes who also happen to be the lesser known cousins of the herps.

...herpes for those of you need a 

little help putting two and two together.


End.

Schemes of the Sun: Fake Tans and Republicans

I know their scheme, and will take Vitamin D
instead! Suck it you Republican Sun of a [Tan]Bitch!

            Everyone sees them. Everyone gawks at them. Bros [definition: hyper-masculine d-bag who wears Tapout®, a sideways “lid” (a baseball cap worn to the side with the gold head-width sticker still attached and yells things like “HEY BRO”) like them. Okay, to give some credit, these guys are just trying to look badass and tough, but it fails miserably because deep down in side, they are sensitive guys who just want to put up a front. Okay, so they aren’t totally d-bags, but their machismo is. So… there. A sorta apology for earlier.

            Okay. So back to what I initially wanted to write about.

            Fake tans.

            Really?

            >insert eye roll here<

            Up here in the tundra of the northwest (Washington) having a “tan” in winter is an obvious sign that there are hybrid plant people among us. I think today is the first full day of sun for the last four or five weeks, and lo and behold, the lovely girls are as goldenly-orange as ever. (random note: Goldenly apparently is a word, I am surprised). Okay, so this isn’t a hate-on-tan blog, but more like a hate-on-that-we-never-have-sun-which-forces-girls-to-eat-UV carrots-or-something-like-that-blog. Seriously SUN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

            The worst part is that you know its winter when the girls in their fake-tan glory strut their little ASS-ets around in matching track suits, Uggs® and wear insane amounts of make-up that can qualify as special effects. I mean, in all honestly, it’s WINTER. TAKE THIS SEASON SERIOUSLY. It sucks. If the sun was out, then one can extrapolate that these girls may have acquired their beautiful carrot-toned skin. Sun. Come on! Back these girls up! They are just trying to remind us that sun does exist and that the Northwest desperately needs it.

            But no. You are being lame and hiding like the little emo-bitch you are behind layers of depressed clouds and forcing these sun-goddesses to subject their skin to ultraviolet lights.

            SUN! YOU ARE GIVING FAKE-TAN-GIRLS CANCER.

            For shame.

            These sun-hunting-mavericks are defying your absence by subjecting themselves, the forward thinking women, to bathe in rays of CANCER.

            >I pause as I put all the pieces together<

            Hey! Wait a minute!

It all makes sense now!

And you almost had me!

I know your ultimate plan, Sun! I know that those UV beds of death are just charging up these girls with mind-control to do your bidding! You are giving them cancer to kill them, then resurrect them as sexy-mind-controlled-zombies to convince others here in the Northwest that we “don’t” need you, but-we-actually-do because these girls look “so-good!” with your divine burns! You think you are so cunning Mr. Giant-Ball-of-Fiery-Fire.

            But I saw through your diabolical plan.

            I’m siding with the moon.

            I am taking up arms against you and your Tanorexic cult! Ah Hell no.

            I’m taking Vitamin D bitch! Take that pharmaceutical companies own by the Republicans! Anti-depressants and other pharmaceutical drugs my ass! It’s just you [Republicans] made a deal with the Sun, and the Sun is getting a massive payout of future Fake-Tan Followers for mind control!

Moral of the Story:

Fake-tans=Republican Mind Control because fake-tans participate to GDP and by proxy the Corporations who contribute to the GOP.

End.