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Posts Tagged ‘dating’

chicken-soup-for-the-soul-campus-chroniclesAlas, the moment is almost upon us… 

How I’ve missed all of you in the past couple weeks.  I’m sure it was harder for you than it was for me, thus, I vow never to put you through such unspeakable anxiety like that again. 

I will be announcing my new website at the end of this week – either Thursday or Friday.   Um.  That is where you’re supposed to show me your excited face, and I’m not too impressed so far.  So check back as I will have many new and exiting things for you to explore.   Did I mention that every visitor gets a FREE SNUGGIE?!!!!! 

In other exciting news, I have another story being published in Chicken Soup for the Soul.  It is the “Campus Chronicles” edition coming out on April 7th.  Unlike my first one, which was a bit cheesy [ I mean, I’d never even read these books so I didn’t know what they wanted ] this is a seductive tale of forbidden college romance.  A true story, of course, of a guy who changed my life.

 

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

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ghosttown

I understand it’s been a bit of a ghost town around here. My only question is, why are you wearing chaps?   Really, it’s not necessary.

Anyway, I’m really working hard on this new website… and I’m pretty sure it’ll be worth it.  You’re going to luuuurve it darlings.  So, we are making sacrifices for the better good.  Wait,  I didn’t know this blog was a socialist.   But listen, exciting things you have to look forward to on the new website:  Kenny will be revealed, the elephant will come out of the closet, new blogs, snazzy new layout, and of course, absolute hilariousness.   So can you hold tight just a little bit longer or what??????

Me:  [picking up my phone]   Yup.

Kenny:  Okay.  Before I say this, you can’t turn this into a blog.

Me:  What?  Are you forreal?

Kenny:  Yes, I’m very real.  you can’t write about what I’m telling you.

Me:  I really don’t think it’s necessary for you to say that.

Kenny:  I’m just saying… don’t.

Me: I think I can tell the difference between something that I should and shouldn’t write a blog about.

Kenny:  Well it doesn’t hurt to give the disclaimer.

Me:  I’m offended.

Kenny:  No you’re not.

Me:  No I’m not.  It probably is better that you use the disclaimer.   I am actually a pretty poor judge of what I should write about.  So this must be about a girl.

Kenny:  Ok… so the other night….

Me:  [interrupting]  Ok, but can I write about this?

Kenny:  What do you mean, I just told you that you couldn’t.

Me: No, I mean the fact that you told me I couldn’t write the blog.  Can I write a blog about that?

Kenny:  NO.  Just leave it alone.

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

 

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So, I took some time out of my busy day, actually took a shower, actually put on some real pants, and went to get a massage.   The entire time I was there, I was writing this blog in my head.  I’ll start from the beginning.

I’m standing there naked (but fully robed)  (although the robes are like paper thin)  (but at least it’s dimly lit)  OK.  I’m standing there and right off the bat the massage girl says:

girl:  So just go ahead and get in the bed, I’ll step out for a second. 

me:  Ok. sounds good.

girl:  Oh, so you’re a massage therapist then

me:  (a little bit freaked out that this complete stranger would ask me this)  Um, well… that’s a long story.  But not exactly.

girl:  Oh, well it says in your file that you were going to massage therapy school.

me:  (wondering why in the heck I have a “file” for getting spa services…  Also wondering what else this so-called “file” contains.  Also wondering if every conversation I have with my massage therapists are  recorded in said “file” because I’m pretty sure I remember talking about that last time I was here…)  Yea, well I was going, but I quit

girl:  Well I was just nervous that I had a trained professional on my hands and you were gonna be all judgey.

So I get into the bed.  She comes in.  No sooner than the blanket is off my back we are engrossed in a conversation about, what else?  …. relationships.

I said something about my bad experiences and  tendencies to date inappropriate (and sometimes International) men, and she responded with “stop stealing my life.”   It was in that very moment, when she cloned my favorite phrase, that the world stood still.  The clouds parted, and an epiphany shone down from the heavens…. Could it be?

Further conversation would prove that my hypothesis was indeed, correct:

seinfeld-george-costanza-getting-massageme:  so wait, let me get this straight.  You’ve been floundering around for several years, dating inappropriate men that you were convinced were perfect, avoiding marriage and illegitimate children, went to school for art yet  are now giving me a massage, you’re restless, confused, AND you say things like “stealing my life?”

girl:   Yes.  and I’ve dated inappropriate International men.

me:  (stop talking for a second to catch my breath)… who?  how?  …from where?

girl:  Well, first there was the German.  It was really fun travelling around with him.   Then there was the Costa Rican foreign exchange student.  But thennnnnnn there was the Ecuadorian.  He was trouble.  But we had a good time in Argentina.

me:  (this girl is me…should I be scared?…)  I know this sounds terrible, but have you found that many of your relationships have “overlapped”  because you have mentally moved on but can’t get the guts to break it off with the other person?

girl:  Oh yea… big time.

That sealed the deal.  I was in love.  We had more things in common that I could possibly write about and we ended up talking through the entire massage… but dont’ you worry I’m a master multi-tasker, thus I was able to simultaneously relax.  I gave her my card (because obviously I can’t let this one get away)  and immediately headed over to Panera where Kenny was chillin.   I storm in, sit down and say:

me:  OK.  You’re not going to BELIEVE this!?!#$%   After all these years, I have managed to find the female equivalent of myself!

kenny:  But…. you are female.

me:  I know that I’m female.  But you’re the male equivalent of me, right?  So she’s the female. 

kenny:  Oh.  Well good for you. 

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

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Now that you’ve had sufficient time to recover from your recent overdose of all things ridiculous and heart shaped… it’s time for you to pull up a seat, sharpen your pencil, steal a couple glue sticks, and grab a lunchable [or maybe some of those pre-sliced apples in the little pouches designed for the world’s laziest moms].  Please clear your mind of all recent uncomfortable encounters, romantic endeavors gone awry, and anything else that might prohibit you from fully absorbing the knowledge I’m about to impart upon you.   Open your eyes, your ears, and most importantly your hearts… because The Elephant’s School of Life is back in session.

It’s time for another installment of “What You Can Learn From My Inexcusable Mistakes”  [or]  “The Moral of The Elephant’s Story”  [or]  “Just Don’t Do This And You Should Be Ok”

1.  Don’t be scared of braces.  Because if your teeth are jacked up then you’re gonna have to deal with it at some point if you want to be socially acceptable.  Except by that time, you won’t be covered under your parent’s insurance anymore, so you’ll be out six grand and 22 with braces. 

The moral: Get over it metal face.  No one’s gonna even notice anything past the unsightly acne and oversized glasses on your face anyway.

glove-box-engagement-ring2.  Don’t start dating a psychopath, one so crazy, that you must runaway to Europe to hopefully be rid of him.  It won’t work.  He’ll come to visit you and wisk you off to Paris, where he’ll lose his wallet and force you both to wander around the red light district, all dressed up, without any money, or knowledge of the French language.   Then you’ll get all deathly ill and it will start to hail.  Unfortunately, he will still propose to you.  You’ll say no, but he’ll have you keep the ring anyway in a lame, yet crafty attempt to get you to reconsider.  But it won’t work cus you are smarter than that.  When you finally come home, you will put the ring in your glove box so that you can bring it back because you are not a gold digging whore.  However, in a random twist of fate, one of your “friends” will borrow your car and steal it before you have the chance. 

I guess there could be two  three morals here:  Don’t date a psychopath.  Or let anyone borrow your car.  Or have a glovebox.

3.  Don’t accidentally use a long distance # to connect your dad’s AOL dial-up so you can instant message your high school friends all night long.  Please understand that “FREE TRIAL” doesn’t also apply to the phone bill.  Oh sorry, that one was kind of outdated.  But I’m serious dad, I’ll cut you a check for that real soon!

4.  If you should still find yourself dating a psychopath, [even after my strong warning against doing so] don’t runaway to Europe to get rid of him.  Not only will that fail miserably, but you will end up meeting a new, even worse, British psychopath. 

The moral:  If you have the choice between foreign and domestic psychopaths, always stick with American made.  Keep American jobs here!

This blog has officially moved to: bluntdelivery.com

Who’s the Elephant?

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Dearest lovebirds of all shapes and sizes,

With the corniest scam holiday of the year fastly closing in on us, I thought I’d take the opposite approach to many websites, which list “good” Valentines Day gift ideas.  This could be because I hate Valentines Day.  Or that I take the opposite approach to just about everything.   If you could just hold on for one quick sec, while I finish this box of ice cream.   Much appreciated.

This post is strictly for the males out there, as you know,  I’ve always got your back.   I suggest you brace yourselves cowboys – because there’s a fierce wind coming your way and it’s about to blow your friggen mind.

vermont-teddy-bear-bandit-bear1.  Stuffed animals.  Whether it be a GIANT red atrocity from the Walmart candy aisle or a Vermont Teddy Bandit bear, you are not to buy us any form of a stuffed animal.  Nevermind the bombardment of commercials tell you that this is a good idea, it’s a glitch in the Matrix.  It isn’t cute.  We aren’t going to sleep with it every night.  It won’t remind us of how much we love you, but rather the dilemma we face over where we can possibly place a  GIANT-bright-red-stuffed bear that doesn’t match anything.  Nothing

Exceptions: You are dating a 9 year old. 

2. Lotion sets.  Alright, how much lotion do you think we need exactly?  We’re already trying to rotate the twelve lotion sets we have from the past four Christmas, birthdays, Valentines Days, Flag days, and that bout with pneumonia  – none of which we even like the smell of to begin with.  Unfortunately, we won’t allow ourselves to throw away perfectly good lotion -so we are forced to hoard them in misery.

Exceptions:  You are dating someone with incurable dry skin.  An aligator, perhaps.

pajamagram3. Pajama-grams.  First of all, what just happened?  Second of all, no.  Do you really think we want something from a company that says “this is the only gift guaranteed to get her clothes off”…..?  This is the worst thing you could EVER think of getting a woman.  Not only are these pajamas guaranteed to be butt ugly and itchy, but they come with additional accessories like “do not disturb” signs and flowered sachets.  gag.

Exceptions:  She is homeless and has nothing else to wear.

Guys, avoid these things along with anything that can be purchased from Walgreens of CVS and you should be alright.  For the most part.

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So if there’s one thing that might force me to relinquish all respect for my mother, it would be that she loves Neil Diamond.   And black licorice.   Both, unforgivable offences.  If you didn’t know, Neil made a guest appearance on tonight’s Grammies.  I wasn’t warned of this, obviously.   This  gave me no choice but to switch to Bravo, where they were playing The Real Housewives of Orange County rerun-marathon that I now have memorized, which gave me no choice but to mute it and write this blog.

he_s_just_not_that_into_you_movie_image_jennifer_connelly__jennifer_anistonI went and saw the movieHe’s Just Not That Into You on Friday.  I have been living in anxious anticipation of this movie since I first picked up the book – one of three that I’ve actually read in my life.  While I was watching it, I couldn’t help but reminisce on all of the unfortunate male mishaps I’ve had in my life, which there is not enough available space left on the internet to fully chronicle.    

Guys:  this post is for your benefit.  Just know if you do any of these things, no girl will ever be that into you.

1.  White-tiger-internet-guy.   Okay, so, remember when you were much younger and much stupider, and you and your friends put your profile on a dating site for the heck of it?  And then out of nowhere some guy actually contacted you and wanted to meet forreal?  And then you were super freaked out, but didn’t know how to turn him down?  Oh, just me.  Well, as the stars would have it, a charming young man would invite me to coffee.  In the course of casual emailing, I had mentioned that I always wanted a pet white tiger.  That may not be something that usually ever  comes up in your casual conversations, but it would if you were talking to me.  So I arrive, at a well-lit, public place (I was stupid, but cautious)  and waddya know the moment I sit down, he hands over a stuffed white tiger.  Okay.

dont. ever. do. that.

You better believe that one of my family members had a life-threatening emergency about 10 mins after he handed over the animal.

2. Underware-model-Wrigley-field-guy.  I’m sure there’s alot of people who may over look certain flaws or potential sources of conflict in a relationship if the person is strikingly gorgeous or from a famous family.  This would be underware model wrigley field guy.  Indeed, nice to look at.  Indeed, of noble blood.  But let’s just make something drastically clear: if you check your reflection in a car window or talk about water weight on a regular basis – we’re just not going to last.  An instant snapshot of our granola and jogging filled future popped into the forefront of my mind, and it was over.

3.   Italian-gold-chain-guy.   I love Italians.  But as soon as they leave Italy, something just goes haywire.  I myself, am Italian – but not that Italian.   Orazio was his name.  Orazio was one of the sweetest people on earth.  He had a good job, and was to inherit his dad’s uber successful business.  He opened doors, pulled out chairs, held the umbrella…all that good, but uneccessary stuff.  But this poor guy was just too Italian.  He wore a gold chain.  And as soon as my eyes caught the first gleam of that blinding light, it was the beginning of the end.

This is a pretty funny video entitled:  “10 chick flick cliches that aren’t in He’s Just Not That Into You”

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when-harry-met-sally-billy-crystal

 

 

Harry:  “You were going to be a gymnast.”

Sally:  “A journalist.”

Harry: “Right, that’s what I said.”

 

 

 

Guys, if you’ve ever been perplexed and confounded by the ways of women, I understand.  I do.  Although I might be one, I only understand our ways about 45% of the time.   But within that 45% of understanding, I am going to try to share this secret knowledge with all of you poor, pathetic, and tortured souls out there.  Of course, the degree at which you need to execute the following steps varies drastically from one woman to the next, so in that aspect you’re on your own.

1.  We want you to be nice.  But we don’t.  If you’re too nice to us then we will slowly grow to hate you.  And by hate, I mean lose all repect for and view you as a pushover who can only be considered a good friend.

2. We want you to pay attention to usBut not too much attention.  This is a very important one because if you don’t give us attention when we need it [aka when other attractive girls are around or when we’re crying about something ridiculous] then it’s done.  But if you get all clingy on a daily basis when we just want some FRIGGEN SPACE for the love of everything then it’s also over.

pouty-face3.  We want you to give us our way.  But not all the time.  See, if you don’t ever give us our way then you’re a cold-hearted, insensitive, selfish bastard.  But if you give us our way all the time then you’re not enough of a man to be worthy of our respect.   And most likely, you’d be an awful father who’d let the kids do whatever they want just because they make that pouty face.

Stay tuned for the second intallment of what women want.  I’ll be bringing that to you as soon as I figure it out myself.

this blog has officially moved to: www.bluntdelivery.com

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