Before we found out Mel Gibson is a racist woman beater fake Australian, he starred in a shitty movie called "What Women Want". In it, he could read women's minds. Luckily for you, because I'm here, you guys won't have to. As someone who has gone on half-dozens of first dates, I can help you out.
Talk About Yourself...A Lot
Women are forced to think about and talk about themselves all day. By the time you take them out to Applebee's, the last thing in the world a girl wants to think about is herself. Besides, she agreed to go out with you, so clearly she finds you fascinating. Collect misshapen rocks? Show her pictures of them. Have the high score on the mini golf video game at the bar? Tell her about every hole. Even though you have awesome eyes, you two don't know each other well enough to gaze into each others eyes in silence yet, so fill the silence by talking about everything you. Be sure to bring up ex-girlfriends a lot. How else is she going to know how she measures up unless she knows every detail about the women you've been with?
Drink Aggressively
First of all, you are too shy to begin with, and you get especially nervous around a girl you like. Liquid courage; ever heard of it? Also, she will be impressed that you are able to knock down 8 drinks in 2 hours. She wants a man, not a boy.
Wear Cologne
Loads of it. Clean smelling isn't good enough. You are courting her, not taking her to church. If everything in cologne commercials is true, wearing it will cause her clothes to fall off and her to fall into your bed. As far as I can tell, it also makes you dive into deep water and play polo (the horse kind, not the pool kind). Whatever, just concentrate on the first part.
Holy shit, you actually convinced her to come back to your place? Umm...ok, got it.
Watch a Gory Movie
Violence is an aphrodisiac and you're trying to get this pony in the stable. Some would suggest a romantic comedy (or "RomCom" as douchers would say) but that's dumb. She isn't having a pillow fight with her girlfriends, she is with you. The more blood and screaming the better.
Wow, she wants to stay the night? Unreal. Ok, make sure you do your move, then...
Weep Uncontrollably
Chicks dig a guy with a soft side. Nothing softer that burying your head in your pillow and making it face rain. Besides, making love makes you equal parts happy, sad and terrified. Ride the roller coaster of emotions, my friend.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Oh Wheels, Where Art Thou?
Hello friends. Join me in my DeLorean as we take it back to 1992. I'm 6, I'm hungry and I'm largely helpless. My wonderful mother has agreed to take me to Burger King. As fast food was (and sadly, still is) my favorite thing, I was over the moon. Even better, the King has a sweet group for kids that gives them toys and sends a (Monthly? Bi-monthly? Quarterly? Whatever.) magazine with games and stories starring the Burger King Kids Club. What a fantastic idea! The greatest character of the Club? Wheels.
Wheels is a young man in a rocket powered wheel chair. This leaves me with sooooooo many questions. Was he born paraplegic, or was he given his nickname after some awful accident? Where does he need to go so fast that he needs his chair to be rocket powered? Is he proud of his life and nickname, or does he secretly hate everyone and want to murder the person who first called him that?
What makes Wheels great is that the small window from the late '80s through early '90s is the only period in the history of time he ever could have been created. Before? No one cared enough about diversity to include the kid in the wheelchair. Since? The wheelchair kids are still in but there's no way in Hell they would ever name him "Wheels" in this politically correct world. We can't name characters with Parkinson's "Shaky" anymore than a kid in a wheelchair can be "Wheels". It's just not right. When the BK Club was in full-force, it was the perfect mix of wanting to be diverse but not really knowing how to appropriately go about it. All I know is, the unintentional comedy that it caused enriched my life forever.
Never forget Wheels. I know I won't.
Wheels is a young man in a rocket powered wheel chair. This leaves me with sooooooo many questions. Was he born paraplegic, or was he given his nickname after some awful accident? Where does he need to go so fast that he needs his chair to be rocket powered? Is he proud of his life and nickname, or does he secretly hate everyone and want to murder the person who first called him that?
What makes Wheels great is that the small window from the late '80s through early '90s is the only period in the history of time he ever could have been created. Before? No one cared enough about diversity to include the kid in the wheelchair. Since? The wheelchair kids are still in but there's no way in Hell they would ever name him "Wheels" in this politically correct world. We can't name characters with Parkinson's "Shaky" anymore than a kid in a wheelchair can be "Wheels". It's just not right. When the BK Club was in full-force, it was the perfect mix of wanting to be diverse but not really knowing how to appropriately go about it. All I know is, the unintentional comedy that it caused enriched my life forever.
Never forget Wheels. I know I won't.
Monday, February 21, 2011
These Are a Few of My Least-Favorite Things
Straight Guys Who Call Their Female Friends "Girl" or "Girlfriend"
It's completely acceptable for a girl to call a fellow female she is friendly with "girlfriend". It is also completely acceptable for a guy to call his girlfriend "girlfriend". Gotta call a spade a spade. However, when a straight man (or "man") calls a girl he is friends with "girl" or "girlfriend", it just seems...wrong. First of all, it comes off as kind of gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it does. The other problem with it is, as my independent and unscientific research has proven, the less manly a man's nickname for a given girl is, it is indirectly proportional to the amount of desire he has to bang said girl. That's tough to argue with; it's unscience. In short, it's creepy. I've provided a chart to illustrate my point (Click to enlarge).
Movie and Music Snobs
I have certain tastes. Everyone does. That means there are things I like, and things I dislike. That makes me exactly like anyone else. What drives me crazy is when someone asks if I really like what they really like, then I say no, then they go off on a 15 minute tangent on why I'm wrong. I'm not wrong. I just don't like it.
It's also not that I don't get it. For example, I think Nirvana was a fine band who made fine music. However, I do not think they are amongst the greatest bands of all-time. Just because you do and I don't, doesn't mean I don't get it. Here's a tip: If you want to look like a self-righteous prick that no one in their right mind would ever want to hold a discussion with, start telling everyone you know they don't get things. Get punched in the throat by someone, then go back to being a decent human being again.
Terrible Drivers
I don't consider myself a great driver or even a good driver. I simply consider myself someone who knows how to drive a Goddamn car. No tickets, no accidents caused by me (knocking on wood so hard my knuckles are bleeding), no problems. So what is the problem with some people? Everyone who passed their driving test knows how to use a turn signal, but some choose to ignore their's. This is probably because they have a sandwich in one hand and their phone in the other, but that's exactly my point.
Also, the left lane on the freeway is the fast lane. If you aren't going fast, stay the hell out of it. Every time I have to brake off of my cruise control because some jackass is going the speed limit and lane-blocking me from passing others in the slow lane, I swear to everything holy I lose a day off of the end of my life. The two things that get my temper up more than anything are awful drivers and golf. I can't stop driving and I won't stop golfing because I hate myself, so if you suck at driving, please get better soon. My life longevity depends on it.
Whew, feels good to vent sometimes.
It's completely acceptable for a girl to call a fellow female she is friendly with "girlfriend". It is also completely acceptable for a guy to call his girlfriend "girlfriend". Gotta call a spade a spade. However, when a straight man (or "man") calls a girl he is friends with "girl" or "girlfriend", it just seems...wrong. First of all, it comes off as kind of gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it does. The other problem with it is, as my independent and unscientific research has proven, the less manly a man's nickname for a given girl is, it is indirectly proportional to the amount of desire he has to bang said girl. That's tough to argue with; it's unscience. In short, it's creepy. I've provided a chart to illustrate my point (Click to enlarge).
Movie and Music Snobs
I have certain tastes. Everyone does. That means there are things I like, and things I dislike. That makes me exactly like anyone else. What drives me crazy is when someone asks if I really like what they really like, then I say no, then they go off on a 15 minute tangent on why I'm wrong. I'm not wrong. I just don't like it.
It's also not that I don't get it. For example, I think Nirvana was a fine band who made fine music. However, I do not think they are amongst the greatest bands of all-time. Just because you do and I don't, doesn't mean I don't get it. Here's a tip: If you want to look like a self-righteous prick that no one in their right mind would ever want to hold a discussion with, start telling everyone you know they don't get things. Get punched in the throat by someone, then go back to being a decent human being again.
Terrible Drivers
I don't consider myself a great driver or even a good driver. I simply consider myself someone who knows how to drive a Goddamn car. No tickets, no accidents caused by me (knocking on wood so hard my knuckles are bleeding), no problems. So what is the problem with some people? Everyone who passed their driving test knows how to use a turn signal, but some choose to ignore their's. This is probably because they have a sandwich in one hand and their phone in the other, but that's exactly my point.
Also, the left lane on the freeway is the fast lane. If you aren't going fast, stay the hell out of it. Every time I have to brake off of my cruise control because some jackass is going the speed limit and lane-blocking me from passing others in the slow lane, I swear to everything holy I lose a day off of the end of my life. The two things that get my temper up more than anything are awful drivers and golf. I can't stop driving and I won't stop golfing because I hate myself, so if you suck at driving, please get better soon. My life longevity depends on it.
Whew, feels good to vent sometimes.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tom TV
Have you ever thought what a younger version of yourself would think if he/she watched a movie of your present-day self? For instance, if 21 year old Tom saw present-day me leaving work, driving home and crashing on my parent's couch, he would be...confused at least.
I'm not saying that because I'm not happy. I am. I also know I'm working towards making my life better than it is now. The thing is, people make these specific and sometimes grand plans for themselves all the time. If we are all being perfectly honest with ourselves, these grand plans rarely work out the way we expect them to.
All of us can end up in these day-to-day routines, or ruts even sometimes, for the longest time. Suddenly, our lives can flip 180 degrees seemingly out of nowhere, and nothing is ever the same again. People get new houses, new jobs, begin or end relationships, become sick, hurt or happy out of the clear blue.
None of this is to say we don't have control over our futures. It's like driving a car. We have no control of the outside conditions, but it's still our responsibility to get where we need to go. Some people are better drivers than others, and some have easier roads to travel than others.
That's what makes reality TV so successful (well, that and it's cheap as hell to produce, but whatever). Even boring people can be fascinating at the right time or in the right light. Some shows are entertaining (The Real World is a very guilty pleasure of mine). Others are exploitative and downright awful (There has been talk of girls trying to get pregnant to get themselves on 16 and Pregnant). It's also why some count people watching as one of their favorite activities. Nothing more that seeing what other people's lives are like.
How would a past version of you react to your present movie?
I'm not saying that because I'm not happy. I am. I also know I'm working towards making my life better than it is now. The thing is, people make these specific and sometimes grand plans for themselves all the time. If we are all being perfectly honest with ourselves, these grand plans rarely work out the way we expect them to.
All of us can end up in these day-to-day routines, or ruts even sometimes, for the longest time. Suddenly, our lives can flip 180 degrees seemingly out of nowhere, and nothing is ever the same again. People get new houses, new jobs, begin or end relationships, become sick, hurt or happy out of the clear blue.
None of this is to say we don't have control over our futures. It's like driving a car. We have no control of the outside conditions, but it's still our responsibility to get where we need to go. Some people are better drivers than others, and some have easier roads to travel than others.
That's what makes reality TV so successful (well, that and it's cheap as hell to produce, but whatever). Even boring people can be fascinating at the right time or in the right light. Some shows are entertaining (The Real World is a very guilty pleasure of mine). Others are exploitative and downright awful (There has been talk of girls trying to get pregnant to get themselves on 16 and Pregnant). It's also why some count people watching as one of their favorite activities. Nothing more that seeing what other people's lives are like.
How would a past version of you react to your present movie?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The Year in Review: 11/10/2009-11/10/2010
First of all, I realize most people do yearly retrospectives based on the calendar (i.e. at the end of December). Screw that though, I feel like writing this now. Secondly, this post is incredibly self-serving, so if you don't particularly care for good old Tom, this might now be the post for you.
When I look back at my life a year ago, it's not the prettiest picture in the world. I was still working at the bank, and while I was surrounded by good company, I was miserable. I'm not good at foisting stuff on others, and that's really the only way I could have been successful. I left at the end of December and returned to the hotel on New Year's Day.
Working at the hotel allowed me to recharge my batteries. It was also nice that it was obvious (and stated) that I would be looking for a career while I was at the hotel. I never felt as though I had to sneak around and be secretive about my wheelings and dealings. Sure, the schedule wasn't the greatest, considering I was back to working nights and weekends. But at least I didn't want to throw myself through a window the whole time.
While working at the hotel helped out my overall happiness, my pocket book wasn't getting any thicker. Hence, me finding myself in my parents' basement (temporarily). Now, I finally found a job that I think I will like and know that it pays. I won't be apartment hunting immediately as I still have things to pay down. Still, it's nice to think that I will be in my own place soon on the horizon.
2010 has been the first year in awhile where I haven't really dated anyone. Largely, that has been by choice. I guess I feel like someone should have their house in order before they invite others into it. The other reasons are not in my hands, including I'm sure the whole parents' basement thing. Regardless, I think it was for the best. I've spent my time trying to get my present and future figured out, and the rest of my time having fun. Sounds good to me. I will take care of the rest later.
Now, I'm set to start the new job next week, and I can't wait. The only downside is I'm not allowed to have facial hair (no Movember for this guy), but I will gladly trade beards for money and happiness in a second.
So that's that. It will be interesting to see where I'm at next November, or whenever the hell I decide to do a year in review next.
When I look back at my life a year ago, it's not the prettiest picture in the world. I was still working at the bank, and while I was surrounded by good company, I was miserable. I'm not good at foisting stuff on others, and that's really the only way I could have been successful. I left at the end of December and returned to the hotel on New Year's Day.
Working at the hotel allowed me to recharge my batteries. It was also nice that it was obvious (and stated) that I would be looking for a career while I was at the hotel. I never felt as though I had to sneak around and be secretive about my wheelings and dealings. Sure, the schedule wasn't the greatest, considering I was back to working nights and weekends. But at least I didn't want to throw myself through a window the whole time.
While working at the hotel helped out my overall happiness, my pocket book wasn't getting any thicker. Hence, me finding myself in my parents' basement (temporarily). Now, I finally found a job that I think I will like and know that it pays. I won't be apartment hunting immediately as I still have things to pay down. Still, it's nice to think that I will be in my own place soon on the horizon.
2010 has been the first year in awhile where I haven't really dated anyone. Largely, that has been by choice. I guess I feel like someone should have their house in order before they invite others into it. The other reasons are not in my hands, including I'm sure the whole parents' basement thing. Regardless, I think it was for the best. I've spent my time trying to get my present and future figured out, and the rest of my time having fun. Sounds good to me. I will take care of the rest later.
Now, I'm set to start the new job next week, and I can't wait. The only downside is I'm not allowed to have facial hair (no Movember for this guy), but I will gladly trade beards for money and happiness in a second.
So that's that. It will be interesting to see where I'm at next November, or whenever the hell I decide to do a year in review next.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Why Brewstergeddon Happened at the Worst Possible Time
The Gophers football team was coming off of a decade's worth of mediocrity. True, they were better than they were in the Jim Wacker days. Still, under Glen Mason they consistently blew huge leads and lost huge games, and just never got over the hump.
That brings us to the immortal Tim Brewster.
He had never been a head coach at any level before he was hired, but he was touted as a master recruiter (not sure if he's a master debator). Whatever, most Gopher fans were just excited for a fresh start. Brewster made it readily apparent he wasn't going to be satisfied with more mediocrity. He boasted of taking "Gopher Nation" to the Rose Bowl. Sure, he seemed like a blowhard, but as long as he was a successful blowhard, everyone would've been happy. Plus, he was going to get the brand new TCF Bank Staduim to operate out of starting in his third year. An enormous, beautiful campus in a great city with a sparkling new stadium should be more than enough to succeed.
So what the hell happened?
They only won one game his first season (It's ok; he's rebuilding.), went to a bowl game his second (Progress!) had a losing record last year (uh-oh) and has been an abortion this year (Shit.).
We've seen bad football in these parts before, but this time, it's worse. The U was primed to become a viable program. The fans were excited about the new stadium. We were finally going to get over that hump!
Now? The excitement will wear off in a hurry. People will still go to games for the stadium, but not for long. It's like this: Imagine if you built an amazing new house, and invited all of your friends and family over for a house warming party. Then, you took a gigantic dump in the middle of the living room right before your guests arrived. To make it worse, you refused to serve your guests drinks to make the experience somewhat more bearable. The lesson: It's not much fun to spend time in a new place, no matter how great it is, if it's filled with shit.
I hope this is Brewster's last year, and they bring in a coach who knows how to win and can truly turn the Gophs around. I just can't help but feeling they blew their best chance.
That brings us to the immortal Tim Brewster.
He had never been a head coach at any level before he was hired, but he was touted as a master recruiter (not sure if he's a master debator). Whatever, most Gopher fans were just excited for a fresh start. Brewster made it readily apparent he wasn't going to be satisfied with more mediocrity. He boasted of taking "Gopher Nation" to the Rose Bowl. Sure, he seemed like a blowhard, but as long as he was a successful blowhard, everyone would've been happy. Plus, he was going to get the brand new TCF Bank Staduim to operate out of starting in his third year. An enormous, beautiful campus in a great city with a sparkling new stadium should be more than enough to succeed.
So what the hell happened?
They only won one game his first season (It's ok; he's rebuilding.), went to a bowl game his second (Progress!) had a losing record last year (uh-oh) and has been an abortion this year (Shit.).
We've seen bad football in these parts before, but this time, it's worse. The U was primed to become a viable program. The fans were excited about the new stadium. We were finally going to get over that hump!
Now? The excitement will wear off in a hurry. People will still go to games for the stadium, but not for long. It's like this: Imagine if you built an amazing new house, and invited all of your friends and family over for a house warming party. Then, you took a gigantic dump in the middle of the living room right before your guests arrived. To make it worse, you refused to serve your guests drinks to make the experience somewhat more bearable. The lesson: It's not much fun to spend time in a new place, no matter how great it is, if it's filled with shit.
I hope this is Brewster's last year, and they bring in a coach who knows how to win and can truly turn the Gophs around. I just can't help but feeling they blew their best chance.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Stalked Up: A Rocket To The Moon Edition
As a guy who doesn't have a CD player in his car (I have one, but it's in my room. I don't know how to install it and I'm too cheap to pay someone else to do it. Don't judge me.), I listen to the radio a lot. I've realized that many popular love songs have creepy ass lyrics. I'm not sure if most people don't notice this, or don't care, but I'm fed up. It's time for someone to start calling out these songs, and since I have nothing better to do, I guess I'll do it.
Recently, the song "Like We Used To" has come to my attention, as it is played on the radio constantly. Its creepiness is immediately noticeable. However, if you see the lyrics typed up, it reads like a murder-suicide note.
The band who unleashed this stalkers' anthem on the world is A Rocket To The Moon. I've never heard of them before, so I had to Google one of the most uncomfortable lines from this song to figure out who I am putting in the crosshairs.
The gist of the song is that his girlfriend broke up with him (presumably), and is dating a new gentleman. He is singing to her, asking whether or not her new beau is doing all of the "romantic" things he used to do.
The most uncomfortable part of the song is when he is describing her having sex in a car. Fine, except that he is talking about her and the new guy having sex for the first time. It seems that he is talking about her losing her virginity. Not only that, but he knows it was precisely "14 months and 7 days ago". Problem is, why does he know what day it was? Why is he keeping track of how many days ago it was? Finally, he says "Oh, I know you know how we felt that night." Somehow, he knew it was happening while it was happening. The only possible explanation is if he was watching them do it. Even if she decided to tell him it happened and the exact date of the deed, he wouldn't have felt any different during the act unless he has some weird power where he can sense when his ex-girlfriend is being penetrated. Also, I'm thinking her feelings and his didn't exactly overlap that night.
He goes on to croon, "And we both know/It should've been me inside that car/It should've been me instead of him/In the dark." Apparently not. The V-card transaction took place over 14 months ago already. If she really wishes you would've tubed her in the car instead of her boyfriend, she wouldn't still be with this guy. I understand women are insane, but if she loves you and not him, and you are so clearly still enamored with her, she would get back together with you. Douche.
Later, he says, "You're on my mind, love/(I know I'm not needed)." If you know you're not needed, than go the hell away already. Leave her alone! And don't make terrible songs about her.
The cherry on this shit sundae is him telling her "Will you promise if this one's right/Don't throw it all away." Basically, don't repeat the mistake you made with me. In other words, he spends the whole song telling this broad she should've let him bone her first, that he was the perfect boyfriend, that he still loves her, that she never should've broken up with him, but good luck with this new guy. At that point, it's no longer admirable to wish her well, it's bipolar.
In conclusion, I'm not saying that I want the members of A Rocket To The Moon to wander into traffic. However, if I'm never subjected to one of their awful songs again for whatever reason, my life will be marginally happier.
So that's it for the first edition of "Stalked Up". I shall return at a later date with a skewering of Clay Aiken's "Invisible". Later.
Recently, the song "Like We Used To" has come to my attention, as it is played on the radio constantly. Its creepiness is immediately noticeable. However, if you see the lyrics typed up, it reads like a murder-suicide note.
The band who unleashed this stalkers' anthem on the world is A Rocket To The Moon. I've never heard of them before, so I had to Google one of the most uncomfortable lines from this song to figure out who I am putting in the crosshairs.
The gist of the song is that his girlfriend broke up with him (presumably), and is dating a new gentleman. He is singing to her, asking whether or not her new beau is doing all of the "romantic" things he used to do.
The most uncomfortable part of the song is when he is describing her having sex in a car. Fine, except that he is talking about her and the new guy having sex for the first time. It seems that he is talking about her losing her virginity. Not only that, but he knows it was precisely "14 months and 7 days ago". Problem is, why does he know what day it was? Why is he keeping track of how many days ago it was? Finally, he says "Oh, I know you know how we felt that night." Somehow, he knew it was happening while it was happening. The only possible explanation is if he was watching them do it. Even if she decided to tell him it happened and the exact date of the deed, he wouldn't have felt any different during the act unless he has some weird power where he can sense when his ex-girlfriend is being penetrated. Also, I'm thinking her feelings and his didn't exactly overlap that night.
He goes on to croon, "And we both know/It should've been me inside that car/It should've been me instead of him/In the dark." Apparently not. The V-card transaction took place over 14 months ago already. If she really wishes you would've tubed her in the car instead of her boyfriend, she wouldn't still be with this guy. I understand women are insane, but if she loves you and not him, and you are so clearly still enamored with her, she would get back together with you. Douche.
Later, he says, "You're on my mind, love/(I know I'm not needed)." If you know you're not needed, than go the hell away already. Leave her alone! And don't make terrible songs about her.
The cherry on this shit sundae is him telling her "Will you promise if this one's right/Don't throw it all away." Basically, don't repeat the mistake you made with me. In other words, he spends the whole song telling this broad she should've let him bone her first, that he was the perfect boyfriend, that he still loves her, that she never should've broken up with him, but good luck with this new guy. At that point, it's no longer admirable to wish her well, it's bipolar.
In conclusion, I'm not saying that I want the members of A Rocket To The Moon to wander into traffic. However, if I'm never subjected to one of their awful songs again for whatever reason, my life will be marginally happier.
So that's it for the first edition of "Stalked Up". I shall return at a later date with a skewering of Clay Aiken's "Invisible". Later.
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