To discuss a Cosmo review: April 2010

What do you think convinced Lady Gaga to do an issue of Cosmopolitan? As if she would ever follow any of the advice they have in there. I mean, look at one of the cover headlines: "50 Things to Do Butt Naked." Since one of the options isn't "Perform live at an awards show," why would she listen?

Anyway, here's the Cosmopolitan April 2010 review. As always, don't read this if Cosmo (or Lady Gaga) offends you.

• Cosmo Bachelor Search 2010: Nominate a guy to be Bachelor of the Year. Is Jake Pavelka still eligible, or do we have to wait until he officially breaks up with Vienna?
• Cover subject Lady Gaga:: "I wanted to sleep with as many rock 'n' roll guys as I could, and I've certainly had my fun." Holy crap, was she on Rock of Love Bus and I missed it? And what part of sleeping with a bunch of rockers sounds like a healthy decision? Her private parts are probably a petri dish.
  
• Gaga: "I'd tell any new boyfriend to hang on because it's going to be a bumpy ride." ... Why? Because in the middle of sex your bra would gouge his eye? Or because in the middle of sex you'd decide you don't like boys anymore?

• OK, these JC Penney ads are getting more and more ridiculous. Am I shopping at the wrong JC Penney, or is there a secret slutty one guys aren't allowed to know about? And at what point did JC Penney ad models get hotter than Victoria's Secret models?
• Guy confessions: A guy giving a PowerPoint presentation at work using his iPhone is embarrassed when "private" photos he had sent to his girlfriend popped up on the screen. How many run-of-the-mill sitcoms do people need to watch before realizing that it's never a good idea to keep personal photos in the same folder/phone as the one you're using for a PowerPoint? Although you'd think by this point Microsoft would have invented a PowerPoint update that automatically scans photos for boobs and penises before it's shown on screen.
• Fun Fearless Fashion: Wearing denim-on-denim: Cosmo says it's now socially acceptable to wear a denim top and denim pants and denim shoes. But that denim thong can get really itchy ...
  
• Sexy vs. Skanky: A quick smooch (Amanda Seyfriend/Dominic Cooper) vs. A long tongue wrestle (Janice Dickinson and her bf). That just makes me miss the days of Janice on "America's Next Top Model," even if it looks like she's trying to recreate a scene from "Species."
• The 5 Best Compliments You Can Give Him: 'Cha-ching' when he's successful at work; 'Hahahaha' when he cracks a joke... or 'I've never seen one that long and big!' when he ... crochets a scarf.
• The Sex Article We Can't Describe On the Cover: As it turns out, Cosmo CAN be shamed... they couldn't put the words "oral sex" on the cover because it's "too shocking" to some... and yet they can put "Find Your G-Spot" and "Speak His Sex Language" on the cover. But oral sex? Heavens no!
• How to Appear Crazy and Neurotic: Oops, I don't think I got the article's title right. But who can blame me, when Cosmo advises women to touch a new guy they meet five times within every 15 minutes ... because guys love it when a girl is so into their conversation, she's timing out her physical contact.
  
• A new ABC Family original movie: 'Beauty & The Briefcase' starring Hilary Duff: Hilary plays a girl who lands a big assignment from Cosmo where she has to date a bunch of guys and write about it. Pay no attention to the movie you saw with Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey with a similar plot. Or the fact Hilary Duff keeps getting movie roles. Don't even get me started on "Raise Your Voice."
  
• Cosmo Gyno Q&A: 'My gyno gave me a rectal exam. WTF?' Dear Gyno worrier: Turn around next time. Duh.
• Rethink Your Green Routine: Advice such as pulling the plug on unused appliances and purchasing organic foods. For some reason, "Don't buy a 200-page glossy magazine every month" isn't on their list of ways to save the environment. At least I'm helping you avoid that.
  

To discuss a Cosmo review: November 2009

It's been a few months since the last Cosmo review, after I went on Cosmo overload in August with a We Are Cosmo stog.

But Kim Kardashian's on the cover of the November 2009 edition, so you know I can't miss the opportunity. I've got all of you to think about. Let's get into Cosmo. As always, don't read this if you wear a WWJD bracelet.

• The cover alone offers a myriad of "duhs" Cosmo assumes readers are either idiots or virgins. "What He Thinks During Sex." Um, he thinks, 'Woohooooo! Booobbbiieeess!' "Kim Kardashian: The Mistake That Still Haunts Her- No, Not the Sex Tape"Actually, yes, the sex tape. "Bad Girl Issue: For Sexy Bitches Only" Good thing I renewed my sexy bitch permit.
  
• Are Cosmo readers secretly lesbians? There are a lot of ads with topless chicks. A lot.
• Cover subject Kim Kardashian: In the quiz, she says she's tired of having to defend my "butt!! It's real, OK!!!!" Kim, of course we know that. You proved it in your home exercise video ... Wait, that wasn't about home exercise? Yeah, right, and next you're going to tell me "One Night in Paris" wasn't a documentary on the perils of drug abuse.
  
• Kim says the sex video was a mistake, "and I don't make the same mistake twice." Next time, she'll get better lighting and an iTunes distribution deal.
• Cosmo Man Manual: Tear-away cards to take to the bar so you can decipher a guy's body language. I'll tell you this much: If you whip out a body language advice card while trying to decipher a man, you might as well call it a night. "Excuse me, Hottie McGuy, but can you not move for a second? I'm trying to figure out if you are subconsciously undressing me."
• Dear Cosmo: I appreciate you including a photo in the "Man Manual" section of a girl wearing a wife-beater with no bra, but it's worthless nipple. I can't get aroused by Cosmo nipple. It's like cleavage at church- you weren't supposed to see it in the first place, and when you do, you don't know what to do with it.
  
• Before They Were Hotties: I feel better knowing Brad Pitt had a double-chin before. Of course, he was a baby, but I'll take it.
• What He's Really Thinking During Sex: "When I see that those giant breasts she had really came form a push-up bra, it's a huge disappointment," Allan, 28. Also a disappointment, Allan: When she takes off your pants and find a balled-up tube sock.
• Another example: "Talking dirty is cool, but I do not want to be called Daddy by anyone in bed," Dan, 30. Totally acceptable alternatives, Dan: Step-Daddy, Lord of the Groin, or Pretty, Pretty Princess.
• "The New Way to Foreplay: Cosmo's uncovered some surprisingly sensitive parts of the body." How is it possible there are parts of the body Cosmo has yet to find erogenous? At this point, they are down to elbows, kidneys and heels. Here's a hint, Cosmo: Advise women to directly touch a man's Private Benjamin. We'll salute every time. Don't try to reinvent the penis.
• Cosmo's 2009 Bachelor Blowout: A hottie from every state. Capricorn thumbed through all the guys and found about 18 that were passable. She almost gagged at a few. We particularly enjoyed the guys who listed their interests as "playing the guitar," "surfing" or "generally being kind of a douche."
• There's an entire section about being a bad girl. Except, in Cosmo terms, all that seems to mean is that you are super, super, SUPER slutty and likely have a tramp stamp. Oh, and you swear like a trucker ... while having slutty slut sex with strangers.
  

To discuss a Cosmo review: August 2009

Capricorn* and I have discussed an inherent flaw in men's and women's magazines. Men's magazines, such as GQ and Maxim, tell you how to get the girl through fancy possessions and pick-up lines. Women's magazines tell you how to make him stay through "mind-blowing" sex and reverse psychology craziness. Why isn't there a men's magazine that tells you how to keep a woman around through "100 ways to please your woman" and "Here's what she means when she says this," and a women's magazine that helps a girl "not get crazy jealous of all the guy's female friends" and "how to stop fooling yourself into thinking you can turn a bad boy into marriage material"?

On to the Cosmo August 2009 review (a lengthy one to make up for the lack of a July review). As always, don't pass Go or collect $200 if you think Cosmo is the devil's literature.

• He totally blew it when: Stories of guys blowing their chance. Example: "I was hanging out at this guy's apartment...He proudly showed me the condom collection he had hidden in his closet." Could have been worse: "I was hanging out at this guy's apartment... He proudly showed me his shrunken head collection he had hidden in his freezer."
• Target has a perverted ad, listing 10 "Things that Sound Naughty, But Aren't." Examples: Purina Moist & Meaty, Scotch Packing Noodles, Caress Body Wash.... Just in case you missed it: Freakin' Target has a perverted ad!
• Cosmo Hot Sheet: Trends on the Rise Right Now: 1) Studly Stubble. "Women find stubble more attractive than any other kind of facial hair." Sweet! I've been going stubbley since the day after Sound of Music. I mean, my 'stache was pimp and all, but...
• Cosmo cover girl, Katy Perry: Did you know her real name is Katheryn Hudson, but she didn't want to be confused with Kate Hudson? My real name is Andy Samberg, but I didn't want to be confused with the Junk in a Box guy
  
• Katy says she decided to break away from the church (her parents are pastors) when she decided she wanted sex before marriage. The church decided to break up with Katy when they realized she kissed a girl and liked it.
• Katy's cat's name is Kitty Purry. I assume she's referring to an actual feline.
• Aubrey O'Day must be in the Cosmo Hall of Fame for her litany of appearances on Sexy vs. Skanky, this time for sucking face with Kathy Griffin.
• An ad for "The Ugly Truth," with Katherine Heigl. Is the ugly truth the fact the movie is so formulated I don't need to see it to know how it turns out?
• Cosmo Confessions: One girl was on a bus ride in Mexico, when the driver pulled over, concerned about a loud buzzing noise. He evacuated the bus, and eventually decided the noise was coming from the girl'sbagohwhatasurprise it's a hot pink vibrator. What is a surprise is that a vibrator sounds SO LOUD you can hear it on a shoddy Mexican tourist bus. Is her vibrator a jack hammer?
• "What His #1 Sex Style Reveals" Options include intensely sexy, sweet and slow, playfully unpredictable and fast & furious. Not included: intensely stalkerish, sweet and slowly choking you to death, playfully imagining kiddies and fast & furious as the cocaine allows.
• "Cosmo for Your Guy"... is full of ways to trick your girlfriend into having sex the way you want. Which, in the next issue, will become an article about why women need to take control in bed. Which,in the subsequent issue, will become an article about why men need to pick up on subtle hints in the sack. Nowhere to be found: Hey, just enjoy the fact you're having sex in a relationship without analyzing it like a football game.
• Mark-Paul Gosselaar (Zack Morris) offers "10 Things Guys Wish You Knew," such as "Quiet confidence is incredibly sexy." Surprisingly, one of the options is not, "Don't kiss your on-stage romantic lead in a Shakespeare play because Kelly and A.C. will totally find out!" Sidenote: Watching Gosselaar's "Raising the Bar" on TNT. Thank me later.
• What is up with these damn "boyfriend jeans"? They aren't actually your boyfriend's- you bought them at the GAP, and you were single. You just want a reason to wear loose, comfortable jeans, an understandable thing. But let's be clear- you're wearing man jeans. You don't see GQ recommending "girlfriend jeans."
• Why do women always look so happy shaving in the ads? I only hear about them complaining.
• Dear Cosmo: Please stop insinuating men are lustful, porn-obsessed pervs. Because the two photos in your "Cosmo Sex Poll: 6,000 Horny Guys Tell All!" are basically porn. Unless Christianity is completely wrong and it's totally cool looking at a girl take it from behind in the shower.
• Sample results from the poll, done with askmen.com: "The hottest thing a woman can say when she sees you naked is, "I want you inside me," at 56 percent. Hmm. I figured it's "Ooh, look how cute that is. I just want to pinch it!"
• Another: "When we're done with sex, I would love if she..." Number one answer by guys is "Cuddled up with me in bed." Fifth-place: "Rolled over and left me alone." Ladies just can't get enough of those hit it and quit it types.
• Oh crap. Well, the AskMen survey just killed my point above about Cosmo making us into pervs. "What can she do to ensure that she's on your mind all day." Send you a romantic card? No. Make you cookies? Nope. Popular answers: Dirty texts, naughty pictures, phone sex, sticking thong in coat pocket.
• One of Cosmo's suggestions on how to get your man to change an annoying habit is to have your friends tease him. That's just kick-me-in-the-crotch fantastic advice, and I'm sure it won't blow up in your face.
• "Turn Him Into the Orgasm Whisperer" by using lube. Four out of five gay guys can't be wrong!
• Terrible advice of the month: A girl in a college engineering program only has male students to hang out with, and thinks they might be a cockblock. Cosmo advices her to use the nerds to help her meet a hot guy at the bar, saying she should offer "whoever helps you meet a cute dude gets a free drink." At least Cosmo isn't shallow and didn't completely overlook the fact one of those nerdy engineers might think she's hot and would lose all self-esteem if she said that... not Cosmo. Not the Cosmo I know.-

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* Capricorn is my girlfriend, for new readers. Check here to find out why.

To discuss the differences between the birds and the bees

We've had a series at church recently on the differences between men and women. Beyond the fact that one has the inney and one has the outey (as detailed by me here), I've found there are many differences that I'd like to make horrible, broad, generalizations about. Feel free to disagree or add your own.

If a woman was going to build a skyscraper, she'd make sure it had lots of usable work space, plenty of bathrooms, greenery outside, windows for lots of natural light, and make sure it was handicap accessible and gave people a comfortable, at-home feel.
If a man was going to build a skyscraper, he'd make sure it looked super-phallic.

If a man was going to buy shampoo, he'd get one with conditioner added to eliminate a step during the shower.
If a woman was going to buy shampoo, she'd check to see what product (name an actress) was using, because her hair just looked so (curly/shiny/soft) in that movie. Then, she'd find out in (name a fashion magazine) that another shampoo is supposed to be better because it's got some previously unheralded natural ingredient that promises to add (curl/shine/three orgasms). Then, she'd go to the store, hold both products in her hand, and choose neither, because she's having a bad hair day and is just too pissed to think about shampoo.

If a woman was going to rent a movie, she'd choose something she knows will make her laugh or make her cry... or maybe something that just won an award. If Zac Efron's in it, good. If Brad Pitt is in it, even better.
If a man was going to rent a movie, he'd first browse through all of the options, then decide what kind of mood he's in. He'd narrow the field down to a blockbuster action movie (bonus for anything with a nipple or two) an artsy movie (artsy like "Fight Club" or "American Beauty," not artsy like "Memoirs of a Geisha") and a bromantic comedy (anything involving Ferrell/Rudd/Rogen/et. al). After a lengthy debate... he'd go with the movie with the nips. Because they are nips. And they are enchanting as a summer's day in Paris.

If a man got a phone number from a cute girl, he'd figure out if she's a short-term or a long-term possibility, and use that to decide when to call or text her. He'd take a grand total of 30 seconds figuring this out, perhaps done in part by checking her Facebook photos. The other portion of the night would be spent watching "Crash," waiting for the nude scene with Jennifer Esposito*. Just kidding. He's still Facebook stalking you and seeing if your friends are cuter than you are.
If a woman got a phone number from a cute guy, she'd spend: 1 minute giggling with excitement; 5 minutes wondering if he's going to call; 10 minutes calling her friends, explaining what just happened and asking them what they think; 20 minutes freaking out that he hasn't called yet; 1 minute wondering if he thinks they are pretty enough; 5 minutes cursing that they wore the black pumps and not the red stilettos; 4 hours staring at the phone; and, three days later, about 3 minutes actually talking to the guy and pretending like it's no big deal he waited this long.

If a woman was consoling her son after he missed the game-winning shot, she'd remind him how he did a great job scoring 20 points already, and that he'll get another chance.
If a man was consoling his son after he missed the game-winning shot, he'd remind him to stop being such an f'in loser and hit the shot next time.

If a man was giving directions, he'd first ask why you don't have a Garmin or TomTom, then tell you to go 4 miles, take a right at the intersection of Taft and Smith, then go half a block until you reach the fourth house on the left.
If a woman was giving directions, she'd first rub it in your face that you're a man and you're asking her for directions. Then she'd start talking about the destination, how the house has this cool wraparound porch, and this one time, she hung out there all night with some friends and they talked about this movie with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck and oh my God what was it called and how it was... oh yeah, then she'd remember she's giving you directions. Then she'd tell you to drive until you pass this pretty oak tree that's near a gas station (it's not near the gas station-- it's half a mile away and it's not an oak tree, it's a store that sells oak furniture that is near some trees), then take a left, or was it a right? No, it's a right, right(?) onto this wide road that has, like, too many speed bumps. Then she'd tell you to go a little while until you saw a red house. Or was it maroon?... Good Will Hunting!

If a man was going to watch "America's Next Top Model," he'd.... oh, who am I kidding?
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* Not Eva Mendes, as previously written. I get those two mixed up all the time. Nice catch, AmyXXOO, except now I'm worried you are also looking for nude scenes with Eva. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Quick note: Maxim and Cosmo reviews will be done as soon as they decide to send them to my new address. Let's hope it's soon.

To discuss What I Learned From Cosmo: April

I'd like to think that one month, Cosmopolitan will stop treating women like they are sex-crazy, boy-hungry, insecure, unintelligent people. But that month is not April. Here's what I learned from Cosmo's April edition; here's last month's review...

• "Bachelor Search 2009..."If you know a single guy worthy enough to make the cut for our annual Bachelor issue, let us know about him!" I know a great guy, Cosmo editors! He's famous, has dreamy eyes and tan skin, is a great father and is looking for a long-term relationship. In the interest of full disclosure, he's also a two-faced liar who broke a woman's heart because of contractual obligations.
• "82 percent of bachelors believe a hookup can turn into a real relationship." 18 percent of bachelors aren't as delusional.
• Ashley Tisdale is this month's cover girl, a fact that even Ashley Tisdale can't quite explain. She dishes that even though she lives with her parents, she he has no problem getting intimate with her boyfriend. Well, that is until she dished to Cosmo that she's banging her boyfriend with the 'rents home. Say goodbye to nookie, Ashley's boyfriend.
• Cosmo confessions: A girl who has a sore throat goes to the E.R., where she is attended to by a hot young doctor. But she's like, so totally embarrassed because the doctor asks her to "pull up my dress so he could feel my spleen. I had on the rattiest pair of full-bottom briefs." Which brings me to this thought: Doesn't it sound suspicsious that this doctor needed you to lift your dress to feel your spleen to help cure your sore throat? When you complain of an ear ache, does he ask you to remove your underwear?
• Read between his lines- He says "She was too clingy." He means "I don't do well with commitment." Wrong again, Cosmo. He means, She was so clingy I had to text her to let her know when I had to use the bathroom.
• Postsex Moves He'll Love... "Put on his shirt"... "Compliment him"... "Take off." Yes, Cosmo just advised women to leave after sex. Next month, there will be an article telling girls that guys don't like one-night stands, thus further confusing women who need an endless cycle of Cosmo advice. My advice: Stop letting strangers board your ho train.
• Cosmo for Your Guy: Create a Sex Goddess by flattering her weak spots: A surefire way to piss a girl off, Capricorn says, is for a guy to talk about a girl's fat spots, because she'll know you're lying. See, even guys can learn from Cosmo!
• Sexy Ways to Go Green: Eco-friendly tips include showering with your guy, using all-natural lubricants, and buying a vibrator with rechargeable batteries. So the Inconvenient Truth was actually about the need to recharge batteries before bedtime fun?
  
• Celeb Look: Get perfect, glistening lips like Rihanna by using gloss. Also, by not dating Chris Brown.
• My observation- Things women must really be excited about, judging by the models in ads: Tampons and birth control.
• The Worst Advice We've Ever Printed: Do needlepoint while he watches...Invent a boyfriend and send yourself flowers... Hand kissing is no longer limited to gentlemen." No, seriously, Cosmo gave that advice in past issues. More recent bad advice: Anything in the Cosmo for Your Guy section.
• What to Do When Your Guy's on the Small Side: Leave him. Just kidding. For the second month in a row, Cosmo reviews "Is he 'normal' down there." About five inches is normal, according to Cosmo, although 2-3 percent of guys have a penis less than three inches long than erect... which means my chiweenie dog is packing more heat than some adult men. Hey-ooo!... Cosmo says not to lie and say "Wow!" when teenie weenie drops his pants. I also advise not pointing, giggling or calling it "cute as a button."
  
• Make him reveal how he feels- Don't ask "Do you love me?" Say "Mind if I drive your car?" The more he cares, the more he shares. Yeah, that makes sense. If he really loves you, he'll share his car, his clothes, his herpes and his emotional baggage. Enjoy, lovers!
• "My guy's condom tends to slip off. Why?" He's in the 2-3 percent category.
  

Take a second to vote in my poll on your favorite Wild ARS Chase features, such as this one. And, for those that like the Cosmo reviews, then come back for a review of Maxim later this week... or you could stop by LBluca77 for her excellent own Cosmo review.

To discuss Facebook stealing a rite of passage

Dear Facebook:

When I was a boy and had a crush on a girl*, there was only one socially acceptable way to tell her. You wrote her a note. You wrote her an honest-to-God**, handwritten note that should include romantic salutations, references to how she reminds you of song lyrics*** and a mention of "Do you like me Circle Yes No or Maybe."

That's how deals were done.

But now you've eliminated such old-fashioned possibilities with your inboxes and relationship status feature and superpokes. You've taken all the charm and effort out of letting a 13-year-old boy tell that cute girl in his class he wants to fondledate her.

Sure, I'm way past that time for me. Capricorn would get weirded out if I passed her a note at this point.**** But there's an entire generation of young Letharios out there who don't know the joy of getting that note back in study hall, unfolding its intricate pattern and realizing the girl he loves, the girl that gives him (wet) wonderful dreams, has enthusiastically circled...

"No."

Oh. She circled no? I always black out that part in my head. Most girls said no- I worked in quantity. Maybe Facebook is the way to go after all. There's probably a Facebook app for love, anyway.

Keep 'poking, kids.

Andy

* I had a crush on every girl. That includes all classmates, their moms, their sisters and you.
** The note didn't have to be honest, just that it needed to be actual paper. It's OK to tell the girl she's the cutest in the class even if you told the last girl that. It's not OK for both those girls to find out. My bad, ladies.
*** At the time, it was Ace of Base lyrics. That might be the reason things never worked out. I told girls I Saw The Sign... and that All That She Wants Is Another Baby, She's Gone Tomorrow Boy.
**** Not to say I wouldn't do it. But I'd have to find new lyrics that do not involve Swedish supergroups. Perhaps T-Pain?

To discuss the No Ordinary ARS Chase co-blog. Enter: Men. Exit: Legends

For the intro to this co-blog event on advice for manly men from a gay guy and a metrosexual dude, check yesterday's post....As a caveat for regular readers here, this is a little spicier than my normal stuff. And yet, you'll read on anyway, because you're a little devil. I like that...

Okay, Ben of No Ordinary Rollercoaster goes first with his advice... Again, B is for Ben, A is for Andy.

B: First off, and this one's a little self-serving, be comfortable with your sexuality. This means being open to doing less than macho things. Investing in her interests does not make you gay no matter how much your single, loser buddies suggest it might. Trust me, going for a romantic evening stroll with your lady doesn't make her forget that you have a penis (I think this might be the first time that word has been used on my blog).

A: I've always said, doing girly things doesn't make you gay. Making out with other guys makes you gay. (B: I did not know this). So man up, fellas. If you're dating the lady, you don't need to prove you're a man's man by scoffing at romantic stuff. Being a considerate, romantic guy willing to be vulnerable is what really makes you a man's man. And chest hair, which I do not have (B: Ironically women seem to like knowing that you CAN grow chest hair but would rather you didn't have any at all like Zac Effron. I can only assume this means that all women are child predators)…And congrats on using an adult word, Ben.

B: Second, much like the first, being pleasant to her gay friends ups your appeal by about 85%. Don't you know that not liking gay people these days is like not liking puppies? THAT MEANS YOU CALIFORNIA. Seriously. (A: So, to be clear here, are you a little bitter? B: Meh. I can get married 'til the cows come home up here) Being cool with her gay friend dropping the occasional flirt in your direction reminds her that you're so attractive that men are into you. That makes you a valuable commodity. In laymen's terms, YOU GET NAUGHTY TIME!

A: And by naughty time, he means that activity your parents did to create you… Anyway, this is an interesting point. Really, you should try to at least be friendly with her friends. She wants to know you are cool with the important people in her life- straight, gay, transsexual, robot or character on The Hills. (B: Actually, it's your duty as a human being to punch any character on The Hills in the face if given the chance).

I know I haven't had problems getting along with gay guys. They love me. A lot. Thank you, Connecticut- I got asked out by more gay guys than straight girls. (B: Do you want to grab a coffee sometime? A: (awkward silence, then subtle nod))

B: Third, make her feel sexy on a regular basis. Just telling her how hot she is when you want to get some is tragically transparent. If you make her feel as sexy as you know she is on a regular basis, her confidence, excitement and playfulness will skyrocket. This means REAL kisses – none of that junior high school crap - for no reason, looking her in the eye and telling her something about her that gives you dirty thoughts, and other simple gestures. Just three a day would make a HUGE difference!

A: Man, in junior high school the only kissing I was doing involved CPR dummies, and they only want you to touch their lips after 15 thrusts to the chest (that's what she said). (B: Yeah…I did no kissing until university. But I hear other people were cool in Junior High…) But, really, any way to make your lady or potential lady feel attractive is a good thing. Notice her high heels, notice her new hairstyle, notice a cute thing she does when no one is looking… it's all good.

B: Okay, for the last one let's blow honesty out of the water here. (A: We're not past that point yet?) You know sex, right? (A: I heard about it on the school bus once) Sex, generally speaking, is about pleasuring both parties. What if – and I'm going to take this slow so I don't lose you – one time you make it entirely about her? Yes, you might have to take care of yourself that once, but she'll remember that night and you'll get your pay-off and then some. I promise…

A: I think we could extend this premise to the relationship as a whole. (B: Nope. Just sex….just kidding. Or am I??) Instead of making each time together about what you want to do or a compromise neither person really wants, try one time, without her suggesting anything, to set up an entire day all about her. Whatever she's said she's always wanted to do, you make it happen. The key is to not make it a big deal you are doing this. Just do it, not expecting anything, and you will reap everything.

B: And by 'reap' he means 'sex'. And by 'everything' he means 'HER UP'!

I'm sorry.

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A: My half of advice giving, the dramatic conclusion to our three-day, epic co-blogging series, will be on Ben's site later today. Please check it out, as my ego is fragile and prone to bruising, much like a peach or an Olsen twin's skeleton.

Also, there will be a TV Play-by-Play of America's Next Top Model season finale posted today on here...If you missed last week's episode/post, check here... And if you had problems commenting last night, I fixed the issue, so try again.

To discuss things I learned from Cosmo

I have no shame in admitting I occasionally read Cosmo. What's that, Andy? Your man card is being rejected?
Eh, I barely used it, anyway.

Capricorn had the November edition in her car, so I start perusing through the glossy pages. Here are things I found. If you wouldn't normally read Cosmo because it's basically softcore porn for women, then stop here:

• When Lauren Conrad wants to feel sexy, she puts on"fancy panties." Something about that phrase sounds very unsexy, like they are rhinestone-covered granny panties.
• "Sneaky Signs He's Dating Other Chicks," such as "he waits forever to call." I've got another one- If he asks you what to get the other girl for Christmas, then he's probably dating other chicks.
  
• On a list of 75 naughty tricks, Cosmo advises women to "flash back to high school' by keeping panties on during sex. Is that what happens during high school? I just remember studying and playing sports... Are you still a virgin if you keep them on?
• A question about guys: "He sometimes says 'Take it, bitch!' during sex, and it weirds me out." Hahahahahahahaha. That's fantastic. And appropriate.
  
• To make a guy friend consider you as a girlfriend, "take him out for a spicy dinner, like Mexican or Thai. The hot sensation triggers an unconscious personality association, so he'll see you as a fiery chick." Also, he'll associate you with a Pepto Bismol commercial.
• To avoid getting a speeding ticket, tell the officer you are "about 30 seconds away from" peeing your seat. So, not only can girls use cleavage and flirtation to get out of a ticket, now they can urinate their way out of it, too? Not fair.
• "10 Evil Ways to Get Back at an Ex." So THAT'S how they learn this stuff. Freakin' Cosmo. Example: "Pay your pregnant friend to pee on a stick that you lave for him with a 'Thanks for nothing' note attached." Good God, please don't do that.
• The "Sexiest Sips for the Fall" includes a drink called the Pink Eye. Yeah, cause nothing's sexier than shouting in a crowded bar, "Hey, can I get Pink Eye?"
  

To Discuss a Co-Blog About Romantic Hints, Plus Andy's Mancrush and Tiff's Fear of Stalkers.

Occasionally in the two-plus month history of WildARSChase, I've had another blogger get the crazy idea that they'd want to write a co-blog with me. The results have been Michael Phelpsian, if by that I mean that we achieved glory and not that we bombed on Saturday Night Live.

So far, TracieLee, my Ex-Fiance and Haute Pocket have taken the plunge. Since then, Tracie has been hired at Nike, Ex-Fiance has adopted two cats and Haute has made a major life decision to move back to Minnesota. So you see, friends, people who co-blog with me go places- sweat shop, furball and parka places.
In my brief blogging history, Miss Tiff has been one of my most frequent and supportive readers; I hope I have returned the favor her way, and I already wrote a guest post for her. This time, though, we have ventured into co-blog territory.
The topic? What guys and girls think when meeting someone of the opposite sex. The results? Lengthy (you're not really working at work, anyway), but still great.

Here we go:

The Co-Blog Post:

MT= Miss Tiff.... ARS: Wild ARS Chase

MT: OK, so I'm dying to get your take on this relationship stuff since, well, you are a guy, and I'm needing a little bit more guy perspective in some aspects of this whole dating/relationship scene.

ARS: I'm glad that my main qualifying factor is that I have a Y chromosome. Proceed.
MT: First question I gotta ask, because of what I'm going through, is why do some guys go all crazy on us gals? Seriously, any warning signs that you as a guy could give us gals? Because I know from my experience with the EX that I had no idea he was crazy until we broke up (ARS: That's actually good, because otherwise that means you dated a crazy person). Maybe if you could give us a little bit more insight on signs that he may turn crazy in the relationship, so that when it ends you could keep gals like myself from making the mistake of dating a loser like this in the first place.

ARS: Are we talking Pepe La Pew crazy, or Mark Walhberg in "Fear" crazy? That's the first thing. I'm guessing you're talking about the latter. If' that's the case, there are probably a few signs during the relationship to look out for:

1. If he always needs to know where you're going/who you're talking to... that likely means when you break up, he's not going to be used to you doing things on your own without telling him first.
2. If he isn't friends with any of his ex's, or least acquaintances, it might be because he's scared them off.
3. If he repeatedly says how he doesn't know what he would do without you, without you prompting him to do so by doing something/saying something nice... That could signify that he literally means he doesn't know what he'd do without you and is already planning how to slaughter your entire family. And by slaughter, I mean say mean things. No one needs to die. That only happens in "Fear."
   

The best thing you can do is cut the line of communication off, permanently, until he shows he can be a normal person. I do admit that guys are tougher to read than War & Peace. (MT: That's the biggest understatement I've heard in a long time.) It can be tough on our end, though.
We're always told that we need to be sweet and considerate, but we're also told not to go overboard so we don't look like freaking psychos. When you have your first few encounters with a guy, what can he do to impress you?

MT: You would be correct in assuming we are talking Mark Wahlberg in Fear crazy.

ARS: Good, because otherwise it might be Funky Bunch version of Mark Wahlberg, and that involves tighty whities.

MT: Those are some really good pointers that us gals should keep in mind. I know I will remember those, especially with all the ex stuff that I've had to go through recently which I have just finally managed to get under control with the advice you gave me a week or two ago.
I would have to agree with you that guys are really hard to read.
A lot of guys don't like to express their feelings so we (us gals) are left to try and figure out/guess what's going on with you guys. That usually never goes as well as it could if you would express your feelings better.
Guys do need to be sweet and considerate, I agree with you on that. It's not hard to be either, really it's not. When having a first few encounters with guys we like to see you guys be sweet and gentleman like. Call me kind of old fashioned about it, but opening doors, showing up with flowers, etc., always impresses me.

Also, if you have a good time with us let us know we like to know that. Because, you can bet if you don't tell us then we are wondering and we are probably over analyzing things we did. Don't you guys do the same thing if we don't tell you whether we had a good time or not?

ARS: Guilty as charged. I have to spend the rest of the night eating Ben & Jerry's and listening to Frank Sinatra.

MT: It also impresses me when a guy calls and/or texts every so often to let me know that he's thinking about me or hoping that I'm having a great day. But, and I can't stress this enough, do not go overboard with the calling/texting so much where we don't want to talk to you (like texting us ten times in one day to see what we're up to).

ARS: (Crossing that off my list) Oh yeah, that's crazy. Who would do that? Freakin' dudes.

MT: That's just crazy and will scare us off. What are some things that us gals can do to impress you during the first few encounters? What shouldn't we do?

ARS: Guys aren't as complicated as you think. Our basic thoughts when first meeting an available, cute girl run along three lines, with varying degrees of depth, depending on the situation:

1. Does she think I'm fun/funny/nice: This is the generic one that everyone wonders. We want to know that you enjoy us. Some of us go way overboard and ask every 5 minutes what you're thinking. Those guys have lack of self-esteem issues, which should be a warning sign, not a fixer-upper. We don't need you to stroke our ego all the time- we stroke enough (ego) as it is- but just realize that we want you to think we're cool.
2. Does she think I'm attractive: We are well aware that our abs do not resemble... well, those of Mark Wahlberg (Why do I keep mentioning him? I sound all mancrush. He is dreamy, though. Like in The Italian Job). (MT: That's like the third time you've mention Mark Walhberg.. I'm so calling you out on your mancrush. He is dreamy though and full of hotness.) We know that our hair isn't like that of George Clooney or Brad Pitt or even John Stamos. And many of us dress like we're auditioning for "Rent." But we do want you to think we're at least marginally attractive. So, if you do, mention it. Just once or twice, and don't make it into a big deal. It can be a small thing- eyes, biceps, molars, kidneys- but it will be enough for us to think that we're not still in "friend territory.".......Which leads to...
3. Is she putting me in freaking "friend territory": This was best explained in "Just Friends" with Ryan Reynolds. If we like a girl, our big fear is that she's put us in Friend Territory, which might as well be the Yukon Territory because it's just as cold and frigid for our psyche.
   

Once you're in there, it's tough to get out, which is why some of us make romantic moves we probably shouldn't, just to make it clear we don't want to be the guy you end up talking to about other guys. So, if you do like us, flirt a little. Drop a line about how you thought about us today. Use my Seven Steps to Holding Hands. Cop a feel (just seeing if you're paying attention). (MT: Did you just say cop a feel? You're joking right? Wait you aren't are you?)

And, if you think we have potential, don't talk to us about your guy problems all the time-- sometimes, yes, just not all the time. (MT: Noted. No griping about guy problems.) Because we'll eventually decide we don't want to be "the guy" you always need to complain about.

MT: OK, wait, so you're telling us that this basically boils down to those three things? If we think your fun/funny/nice, if we think you're attractive, and if we're putting you in friend territory.

ARS: It's like I'm unlocking the Ark of the Covenant, only nobody's flesh melts off like in Indiana Jones.

MT: Well, most of us gals easily show what we think about you in all of three of those areas within the first date or so. I know that I at least hint around those things. I may not come right out and say it but, do we really have to come out and say "You're hot" or something like that to get you to realize that we are digging you? If that's the case, then why don't guys come right out and tell us when they are digging us? (ARS: Did I mention guys are idiots?)
Because, sometimes you guys don't. Sometimes you guys leave us wondering what the heck is going on? Then we learn later you really do dig us and we've been stressing out over it for no reason.
A little tidbit of information that is that us girls can usually tell within the first date (if not the first date then definitely the second date) if we are going to put you in the "friend territory."
Since we got onto the subject of the "friend territory," how do guys go from being oh so into us girls to all of a sudden we're in the "friend territory" without any warning?!
Basically a lot of the whole "guys are hard to read" thing is because you tend not to talk (or hate talking) about your feelings about anything when it comes to relationships. So why is it guys don't tend to tell us what is on their minds? You all know that us gals will almost always tell you what's going on with us. But, guys tend to shut gals out. Why is that?

ARS: Well, that's not how it works. We are shrouds of mystery, like James Bond, but without the martini, weapon, and impeccable suits.(MT: Did you just try and compare all guys to James Bond? *rolls eyes* Right, go on.) Guys aren't as likely to come straight out and say they like you-- I would, but I'm not the usual. But think of it this way: If a guy calls you several times, wants to know what you're up to on the weekend and often mentions how he wants to go do something but wishes he had someone to go with, he probably likes you. Subtle. Very subtle.

It's likely a defense mechanism to protect us, because we're not very good at detecting if you like us or not, so we don't want to put ourselves out on a limb. Did I mention that guys make no sense? (MT: No but the whole female population myself included already knows that. No big surprise there.)
So here's the final question, then. If a guy is going to give you a compliment, would you rather it be about your personality, your looks or your lifestyle (your clothes/car/home/hobbies)?

MT: So, basically you guys aren't more obvious about liking us because you're not good at detecting if we like you or not. Actually that kind of makes sense because a few of us gals do the same thing. We don't like to put ourselves out on a limb that often either because it can result in getting hurt. Each girl is different as to what she would like to receive compliments about.

But, I'm sure quite a few of us love it when you compliment our personality and looks. It's kind of hard to really choose because we like to know that you like our personality, that you find us attractive and that you do like at least a few things about our lifestyle.
So that makes it hard to choose which we would rather be complimented on. I, myself, would probably go for personality or looks. However, like I said, it all depends on the girl. I will tell you this- we do like to receive compliments. So feel free to send them our way when ever you feel the need.

ARS: Noted. You know, I actually did watch "Just Friends" again recently with the girlfriend as a reminder of the friend zone and people missing "Hey I like you signals." You know what happens to Ryan Reynolds because of that? He gets facial lacerations, hit in the crotch, punched in the face and slapped. It pays to pay attention. (MT: That only happens in movies. Oh wait, I totally hit a guy in the crotch before. He deserved it though. So that makes it OK right?

I think the theme here, if I may be so bold as to summarize this co-blog, is that both sides need to be more forthcoming if they like somebody so we can avoid the crotch hitting and heart breaking. Agreed? Good. (MT: Totally agree both sides need to be more forthcoming to avoid those not so fun situations.)
Oh, and Mark Wahlberg. (One last reference for good luck). (MT: *Rolls Eyes*.)

To discuss my life in e-mails and shaping chesticles

I figured if the first part didn't draw you in, the second part would.
Pervert.
Let's get the second part over with now.
This commercial boggles my mind. It's either one of the most erotic infomercials ever, or it's the most disturbing. I'm no Dr. McDreamy (unless it's in my veterinary metaphor), but I'm still guessing it's not natural for boobs to move sideways like that. If that's the idea, then they really screwed up on Baywatch girls going up and down all those years.
Watch a minute (or two- it's enchanting) of the footage. As a guy, I'm highly confused about my emotions on this- it is, technically, cleavage... but it looks like fleshy shape shifters. More accurately, it looks like those scarabs in "The Mummy" have grown larger, taken over that poor woman's chesticles, and are now pacing back and forth.
Am I missing something here, or wouldn't adding muscle, by doing chest exercises, actually decrease the bust line because breast tissue is made of fat? You didn't see busty swimmers and gymnasts at the Olympics, did you? Just a thought.
But hey, it worked for 58-year-old Kathleen H: "I saw everything come up and everything fill out." As Michael Scott would say, that's what she said.

----------------
On to important business. Ever since I started this blog, I've had the idea in the back of my head that it would be fun and memorable for me and entertaining for you if I gave an overview of some recent years in my life, kind of a "The Story of Andy." Not that every day goes as horribly as this one, but it might make for some high entertainment to recall past failures.
To do that straight from memory, though, would be a feat. But then I remembered one thing that tracks the passage of time better than clocks and fashion trends: E-mails.
Kids, I looked in my Hotmail account (which uses my AIM screen name from when I was in sixth grade), and I've got e-mails dating the whole way back to Dec. 2001, nearing the end of my first semester in college. Sent e-mails are precious few, but I've got tons and tons of received e-mails because I never delete them out of fear that one day I'd write a blog and some random person would want to read about them (I'm so smart).
So here is what I'm proposing-- and if it's a terrible idea, say so. I'd like to do a semi-regular series of posts (monthly?) that, using nothing but memory and snippets of e-mail text, reconstruct that fateful freshmen year until now. I promise to make it juicy and funny and terribly embarrassing on my half, without naming names to protect the innocent. This is either my best idea ever or my worst.
Most of it will be recounting and second-guessing what I was thinking at the time. There's also life-changing decisions, failures, successes- all the good stuff. What do you think?
--------
Also- I'm going out tonight with a new Ladyfriend. No, not Quiznos girl. This is someone with whom I've actually had a conversation with out loud and not just in my head, and who appears to be funny/cute/friendly/not likely to murder me/all those good things. And who, from what she said, reads this blog... and she still wants to see me tonight. This makes me wonder about the mental state of other men in her life if I seem like a viable option. Anyway, wish me luck. I promise to be a gentleman.

To discuss a quick synopsis of Andy's latest failure

Wow- I had no idea that dog posts are the cornerstone to good blogging. You guys love your dog posts. I'll keep that in mind.
I wasn't planning on writing anything else for today, but I just thought you'd enjoy my daily dose of embarrassment*...

I had just finished getting my hair cut... This time, I made sure not to talk about anyone's dead boyfriend... Actually, I didn't speak at all (although I should have, because she didn't quite cut it the way I like. I always feel bad saying anything, like it's their artistic creation).
I walked over to a nearby Quiznos to delight my stomach with The Traditional. As I'm ordering, in walks a woman in her early 20s, with long, dark wavy hair, who is impeccably dressed. She's out of my league, but if you know anything about baseball, they do September call-ups for players in the minors. So my chances are good.
Except, you know, my neutered dog has more testicular fortitude than me at this moment.
I glance back at her, then move down the line. I glance over again (not staring, mind you. I didn't have the proper trench coat and bucket hat for that), and this time she gave me the smile, blush and look away. That, in girl body language, is the equivalent of "I will be the mother of your first born."**
So I complete my order and am now faced with dilemma of how to stall for time, since she is a couple people back. I take an unusually long time filling my drink and pretending to call someone on my cell phone. She finishes getting all her stuff and is right behind me as I walk out the door- which I held for her.
The following conversation took place:
Her: "Thanks."
Me: "No problem."
Me: (thinking) "What is wrong with you, Andy? Say something @#%*&#$. She's right there. She gave you the look-away! Say something about the delicious meats you just got... anything."
Me: (Speaking quietly) "Uh...mm....uh"

She walked to her car. I walked toward the end of the lot to mine, after blowing an opportunity that had God's fingerprints all over it.
Here's the kicker. Right before I get in my car, she drives by AND DOES THE CUTE GIRL WAVE AT ME. Then, she drives away.
@%&#*&#$(#%&(*@$!


* Necessary note before reading on- Ladyfriend and I did not work out- just one of those things. She is a great person. I still hope to find someone to commit elderly suicide with.
** I'm not too far off, ladies, and you know it.

To discuss what went terribly, terribly wrong...(Part 2)

It’s taken me longer than I thought to continue this harrowing story. That’s due, in part, to all the work needed to get that sweet Q&A going yesterday- Haute and I wrote and edited nearly 4,400 words combined for that sucker. Good God, what were we thinking? I do hope you enjoyed it- if you’d like me to continue doing my own Q&A in future weeks, let me know or e-mail questions to wildarschase@yahoo.com. I’ll try to get an e-mail link going in the sidebar as well. Oh, and shower Haute with praise on her site. She’s fragile.
I went back and forth on whether to write about Sunday, so as not to be a total jerk to people involved, even if they aren’t named. I decided to take the journalist’s approach and stick to the facts, letting you form your own opinion. Also- I'm not one for trashing people on a freakin' blog- if you know me in real life, realize I'm not just waiting for you to mess up so I can blog about it... I've got enough of my own problems to write about.
If you need to catch up, here's Part One: To Discuss what went right...

Back to shattered flowers and dreams...
When we last talked about my weekend, I had finished a very pleasant outing with Ladyfriend on Saturday, complete with my usual trademark “Did I just say that?” comments.
Sunday was full of promise. After coming home from church, I confirmed plans with XXX (not her real name), another cool girl I had recently talked to over the phone, but had not yet met in person. We were going to watch the Steelers’ game together at my place in front of my extremely large flatscreen TV*. I rushed home to clean up the place and make it smell all nice and un-boy like.
The game started at 1 p.m. XXX said she had left a few minutes prior to that, meaning she should arrive around 1:30sh, coming about 25-30 miles away. A timeline:
1:30 p.m. Steelers 7, Texans 0, Andy, alone.
1:45 p.m. Steelers 14, Texans 0, Andy, still alone and making a call to see if she’s lost.
2:15 p.m. Steelers 21, Texans 3, Andy a little worried because she’s not answering her phone.
2:45 p.m. Third quarter, Steelers 35, Texans 3, Andy now legitimately worried after several unanswered phone calls
3:30 p.m. Fourth quarter, Steelers 38, Texans 10, Andy now convinced he’s caused the death of XXX
4 p.m. Game over, Steelers crush Texans 38-17, Andy now has no idea where XXX is or why she isn’t answering or letting him know what happened.
5:30 p.m. After convincing himself she’s alright, I (we’re back in first person now) decide to get out of the house so I’m not just staring at my dog, waiting. I leave a last voicemail- number 2- telling her I was out but hoping she was OK and that she’d call soon to let him know what’s going on.
5:45 p.m. XXX texts to say she got rear-ended by some old, scary dude soon after she left, and her phone had died, so she couldn’t contact me. Everything makes sense now, glad she’s OK. Since she had a bad afternoon and it was partially linked to me, I offer to cheer her up by driving up to her place to keep her company and get her mind off of things. I tell her I’ll likely get there around 8:30 p.m.
8:10 p.m. Andy (third person again- I switch literary devices like underwear) is a mile or two down the road when XXX texts to say she needs an extra 30 minutes so she can stop at a co-worker’s house to pick something up.
8:15 p.m. Andy, an amiable gent, texts back that he’ll get there at 9 instead. Moments later, XXX texts back that 9 isn’t enough time, causing Andy to wonder how an extra 30 minutes past 8:30 p.m. does not equal 9 p.m. Andy writes back, 9:30?
The last text is critical, friends, as you’ll find out.
Andy spent the next hour picking up flowers- friends, dates or whomever it is, anyone can get flowers if they need cheering up- and driving to XXX’s place. It took less time than he expected, so Andy killed some time in his car after arriving watching episodes of The Office** on his laptop, which he had with him.
9:30 p.m. Andy calls XXX to tell her he’s here. Although she had not texted back before, Andy figured that 9:30 should be more than enough time, considering she said she only needed an extra 30 minutes or so.... Ring. Ring. No answer. Voice mail. “Hey XXX, just letting you know I’m around, let me know when you get back.”
9:45 p.m. Andy, sitting in silence, decides he might as well go knock on XXX’s door in case she already was home. The following exchange took place:
Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Andy, looking for XXX?
" XXX who?" A random, shirtless dude replies.
XXX. Is she home?
Naw, man, XXX doesn’t live here. (no one said random shirtless dude was good at telling jokes)

Andy, now utterly confused, calls XXX to make sure he’s not in the wrong freakin' area. Again, no answer, which, in a Verizon commercial would go, “Can you hear me now?” followed by, “No I can’t #@%&*% hear you, no one is answering &%#$.”
10:10 p.m. Now getting frustrated, sitting in silence, not sure if he’s at the right place or if XXX actually exists, Andy grabs some food at the Sheetz station*** and calls his ex-fiance to explain the situation and double-check his sanity. Ex-fiance reassures him that he’s not crazy and that maybe he should wait a little longer, and then peace out. Ex-fiance, as always, is wise.
10:30 p.m. Andy, now back in the parking lot of XXX’s supposed housing complex, steals the Internet signal from some unsuspecting neighbor not smart enough to use a passcode (seriously, dude. That’s not smart). He wastes some time checking blogs and Twittering with the lovely MissTiff. Another call, another text. No reply.
10:45 p.m. Andy is now once again concerned he has caused the death of XXX.
10:45 p.m. Andy leaves one final, and as it turns out, fatalistic voice mail, using a slightly caustic tone to vent his underlying frustration that XXX hasn’t let him know anything about what’s going on, even just to say she’s running late or can’t make it or that she’s dead and he’ll have to reschedule. No expletives or raised voice were used, but it wasn’t sugary sweet, either.
11 p.m. Andy wishes it was Saturday again. Ladyfriend, already a nice person, is coming out like roses now.
11:45 p.m. Andy is back home, picking up at...
... Andy looked at the flower bouquet in the passenger seat. Silently, for everything that night was about silence, he picked up the flowers, got out of his car parked by his apartment, walked calmly to a nearby dumpster and bashed those motherf'rs in one, sweet blow to the ground before tossing in the remaining stem carcass, as petals fluttered in the air like Forrest Gump's feather.
Monday
11:22 a.m. XXX is alive! That’s the first and foremost concern alleviated. Good. Bad stuff, though. XXX texts that she’s fine but that Andy’s last voice mail made her not want to talk to him last night. Mind you, the last voice mail was at 10:45 p.m., well after the meeting time and after an earlier voice mail asking if she was ok.
A series of texts go back and forth, leading to an actual call (texting, as it turns out, is truly the devil).
XXX explains that she didn’t like Andy’s tone (somewhat understandable), that she had unknowingly left her phone in her car when visiting her co-worker, that she didn’t want to just quickly run in and out of said co-workers house and be “rude,” and that she didn’t think Andy would leave his place because she hadn’t confirmed the 9:30 p.m. time.
(This is the vitriolic part I’m leaving out- I try to give people the benefit of the doubt... Now you, you might not. So come to your own conclusions).
The icing on the three-layer, double-fudge cake is that Knock Knock dude, as it turns out, is XXX’s roommate. Yes, that dude lied to my face- he told XXX he didn’t know me, so instead of dealing with me he just made something up, and they had a good chuckle over it.

Well... um... at least the Steelers won.

* Some guys overcompensate by driving large cars or owning large dogs. I have a large flat screen. My overcompensation has brilliant colors and resolution, HDMI outputs and HD capability. My overcompensation is better.
** OK, so it was that sweet Halloween episode where Michael tries to fire someone, but he can't go through with it, and Jim and Pam send Dwight's resume to other companies, leading Dwight to ask a potential employer what his resume says under "Martial Arts Training." Classic.
*** Sheetz, for those outside the PA/WV region is a gas station mecca that includes touch-screen food ordering that is so well-made and delicious that people go there just to eat. Recognize.

To discuss what went right ...

Andy looked at the flower bouquet in the passenger seat. Silently, for everything that night was about silence, he picked up the flowers, got out of his car parked by his apartment, walked calmly to a nearby dumpster and bashed those motherf'rs in one, sweet blow to the ground before tossing in the remaining stem carcass, as petals fluttered in the air like Forrest Gump's feather.
----
That's how my weekend ended. You must be interested, then, to know what led up to that point, right?(If not, dude, what's up? What, you want chain saws and explosions involved? It's a low-budget blog.)
Let's start off with the good...
Saturday was a total wash, weather wise, because Hurricane Anna used the East Coast as the tampon for her rainstorm period. But, I did get to hang out with a new Ladyfriend. So as not to jinx anything with Ladyfriend, especially on the off chance she finds this blog (in that case, um, you look pretty), I'll skip much of the details. It wasn't a date, officially- we met on a friendly level. It was an online connection.
Just know there was bowling involved, and we both got schooled by a neighboring toddler- and you know how I hate that. And Ladyfriend's got lots of wonderful qualities. And, at one point while discussing The Notebook (Good God I end up talking about that movie a lot), I made the off-the-cuff statement that I'd prefer if my wife and I died at the same time to avoid heartache, so maybe it would be best if we did a double suicide. Double. Suicide. My. Words. W. T. H.
There's nothing more attractive to a woman than a man who wants to go all Romeo and Juliet on her in her golden years. What in the world was I thinking.
In any case, given her good sense of humor and my exquisite good looks, everything went well...
And then, dear, dear friends, there was today...I got stood up twice, by the same girl (not Ladyfriend, mind you), in two different towns- although, to be fair, for legitimate reasons.
Want to know more? Check back later (I'm a bigger master of suspense than M. Night Shyamalan), after you've read all of my new, two-part Question and Answer feature with Haute Pocket. If all this doesn't get you through Monday, then what will?
No, seriously. What will? Like, LSD? Heavy petting? Cause I'll do what it takes.
The Q&A will be posted first thing Monday morning, with the second half coming mid-afternoon on Haute's site (in the meantime, check out her recent post about her dog eating $20.)

To discuss There's Something about Abused Puppies, and Why Cheating is Acceptable

First off, chill. Abused puppies, bad. Cheating, bad.. Let's take a deep breath...
This is a hodgepodge of things that happened over the holiday weekend; I'm writing about it now because, on very few occasions, I do actually hang out with real, live people and don't get to a computer. Fortunately for you, these cases are rare and shouldn't interrupt this blog often. God help us if I get a girlfriend. She'll have to understand priorities.*

I spent a big chunk of the weekend in Baltimore (B-Vegas? Can I make that happen, too?) with Sister and her Yorkie Poo (which, unlike the breed name, does not mean a Yorkie that stepped in a toilet). Since I took my chiweenie down with me, he actually had another dog to play with for once, a fact he greatly enjoyed. He's been worrying me some because he's been licking his paws like there's chocolate inside, so anything to distract him is helpful...
And that leads us to Web site visit number 1:
Petfinder.com
On a whim, Sister and I perused the site looking at potential female dogs to adopt for Bailey to play around with/hump with vigor while I'm at work... The dog has to be about the same size, or he freaks out, so that limits our options to chihuahua mixes or tiny furballs that I want to name Swiffer.
Petfinder did not disappoint, with lots of cute dogs around. But, disturbingly, they have lots of animal shelters that don't exactly know how to market their pets...First off, I'm greatly bewildered at the phrase "high-kill shelter," as in "poodle saved from a high-kill shelter."... Couldn't you call it a "low adoption rate shelter" or something nicer? High kill shelter makes it sound like they are slaughtering puppies Cruella de Ville style. Hey, there are dead puppies everywhere, want to adopt the one that survived the canine holocaust?
Other choice options include:

• Cameron Diaz (in sad photo). Not the actress. This 4-year-old Yorkie's name is Cameron Diaz. That name, technically, would make it perfect for my horny Chiweenie, because it sounds as if the Yorkie, like Diaz, is prone to getting sperm on her head (and also underachieving, but let's hope that's just the actress and not the dog). But the real issue here is how they describe the appalling crap CD went through, none of which makes her sound appealing: "I am very, very scared of humans...I don't bark because the people that owned the mill where I came from decided to debark me. This is a terrible procedure that is done with a metal pipe...I am potty trained and will even make a strange noise when I need to go to the bathroom." . Are you f'in kidding me? Who shoves a pipe down Cameron Diaz's throat**? I can just hear the sound that dog makes, and it sounds like death.
• Cagney: She's a 5-year-old Miniature Pin./Chihuahua... and she was abused by the Amish! Just read this: "I was rescued with a 6 month old Pekingese that had been strangled so hard that her eye popped out of it's socket. The Pekingese died several months after she was released." Sweet Jesus in the morning...Who DOES that? "The Amish people did not treat us kindly and our bodies are evidence to that." Did the Amish rape Cagney? Is she tainted goods now? "I had a dental (procedure) that caused me to lose every other tooth in my mouth so when I smile, which I do quite a bit, I look like an old comb." So, let me get this straight- this dog survived some kind of Amish torture chamber where she may or may not have been touched in her private spot, and her smile reminds people of broken combs.... Sign me up!

Needless to say, I did not get another dog... yet. I'll keep you updated. So, Sister and I also took a trip to a Boscov's (a major department store here, like a Macy's or JCPenney or Kohl's) in Delaware because it's going out of business. The last time and only other time I was in Delaware, it was because my brother got us lost on the way back from NYC- Pittsburgh is almost straight west of NYC. My brother went south. Good times.
Anyway- Boscov's had their freakin Christmas display up. It was only Labor Day. I don't want to see any nuts cracking or lights twinkling yet. None. And I like Christmas. A lot. Baby Jesus' birth fills my belly with jovial goodness. But not at Labor Day...
During our car ride, Sister had on the Howard Stern show, and an ad came up for..
Website number 2:
ashleymadison.com
Check it out at some point, although maybe not at work (no nudity, but your moral fiber may vomit all over your work computer and you'll have to pay for it). This site is for people not satisfied in their current relationships, and are looking to hook up with other people in relationships....To recap, I can't even get one girlfriend, and these people want TWO! They don't even try to hide what they are doing. In fact, the web site's philosophy is that these people deserve happiness outside of their relationship. Um, couldn't you just break up with that person first? You know, man up? Or at least use Craiglist's miscellaneous encounters*** and keep it low key?
The world is a scary, scary place.... now, where's that metal pipe I was looking for?

* To future girlfriends: By priorities, I mean you look pretty today/is that a new haircut/I love that shirt/I'll cook, you rest.
** Shame, shame on you for taking that pervertedly. We're talking about abused puppies here.
*** Don't ask me why I know about this. No, I haven't used it. I'm four, maybe five years away from that....
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Thanks to everybody who has submitted questions so far for next Monday's Question and Answer session (if you haven't done so yet-- and really, what's holding you back? There aren't even any rules-- send them to wildarschase@yahoo.com, or leave them in the comments).

To discuss males fantasizing about Tom Brady's passing stats

Fantasy Football.
It’s a funny-sounding phrase, isn’t it? As if visions of Tom Brady floating on marshmallow clouds flutter around in the minds of grown men. Well, actually, that part’s true. Except Ladainian Tomlinson is up there, too. Wearing rainbow-colored suspenders. Oh, LT. I love you and your guaranteed 15 touchdowns.
Ladies, I wish there’s a simply explanation why your man spends more time looking up Peyton Manning’s touchdown-to-interception ratio than he does looking down your shirt.
There are some guys I know who would outright turn down a night with their girlfriend so they can watch 10 NFL games at once and calculate live stats. In the words of Jay from 40 Year-Old Virgin, that’s putting the football on the pedestal.
But, here’s the thing.
Fantasy football is fun.
I mean, real (fake) fun.
I spent 3-plus hours on Saturday drafting my fantasy team online. Three. I didn't move from my chair for three hours so I could look up stats, scout players and analyze draft picks in the hope that I might win a league that doesn't matter to anyone but the 12 guys participating. If it would have been possible, I would have worn an adult diaper so as to avoid any need to leave my computer. The fantasy football draft is basically a late summer Christmas, without all of the unnecessary gift-giving and holiday cheer. It's nothing but gift-receiving, and those gifts are wide receivers, quarterbacks and tight ends.
Man, it was sweet.
I’m probably a mid-level fantasy footballer. I’ve played for a few years in a competitive league where you gotta put down money and there’s a pot (money, not weed) for the winner. I check my team’s performance regularly, I keep an eye on all the games, although not at the sake of other facets of life. Once in a while, I catch myself saying absurd things like, “Ben Roethlisberger really needs to play well for me today. I need him to throw two touchdowns.” As if I own him.
Oh, that’s right.
Cause I do! On a fantasy team, for those who don’t know, you “draft” NFL players to fill out a roster. You get points based on how those players perform. So when your boyfriend (or girlfriend- I know some women who play and do really well) has a team, they’re checking all Sunday to see how “his” players did.
I like it because instead of just rooting for one team (like, say, the Steelers and their awesomeness), I can have interest in all the games. It's the only reason I'd ever watch the Arizona Cardinals or Atlanta Falcons. Actually, I'm not sure that even people living in Arizona or Atlanta watch those teams.
Fantasy football also gives us a sense of connection with other dudes, because we can talk about how our teams are doing, what trades we’re making, what place we’re in, all while scratching ourselves and growing chest hair (I’ve got three so far!*).
I know that for most of you ladies this all seems a bit childish and makes little sense. I mean, it’s fantasy, right? Not something that actually matters.
Well it does, and here’s why. The guys who play fantasy football don’t play in the NFL. We’re not real athletes. We’re never going to get on TV for making the winning touchdown pass or get caught organizing an illegal dog fighting ring.** The closest we can get to gridiron glory is online.
I’m not denying we're all a bunch of nerds. We definitely are. Just understand that if we could trade in a fantasy championship for a Super Bowl championship, we would in a second. Then you could find a new thing to get mad at us for... like looking down your shirt.
* Chest hairs, not testicles.
** Ok, that was just the Falcon's Mike Vick. When I read what he did to those dogs, I had to google "rape stand." Look it up. It'll make you sick. It's basically a way to keep the female dog in place while she gets raped by a male dog. Not cool, Mike Vick. Not cool.