February 17, 2008

If you don't want to read an emotional post, I suggest you stop reading now. February 17, 2008 was a Sunday. Not just any Sunday though. It was the day I got myself my first girlfriend. I had met her a couple days prior to Halloween and we had been talking a little bit since our return from winter break. This girl was one of the prettiest I had seen since I had been in college. Tall, slender, long brown hair, great smile. And she was dressed like Peter Pan. My friends and I called her that for a long time after. From the first time I saw her, I thought she was beautiful. But I didn't have the courage to approach so my friend went up to her and said, "My friend is a bitch. Dance with him." The rest as they say is history.

The remainder of the school year played out pretty nicely. I had this new girlfriend and she would sleep over on the weekends and we'd hang out on Tuesdays and Thursdays after my last class. Things were going really well and I really liked her. So the school year ended and summer came along. I still didn't have a car at this point, so seeing each other was going to be a little difficult. I ended up going to see her two or three times that summer, but only when her dad wasn't home. It made for an exciting day or two. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and getting up and walking out of Chili's. The waiter at Applebee's calling me Champion. Towards the end of it, she came to meet my friends at my best friend's beach house. All of my friends seemed to really like her and that made me pretty happy. One of the last few nights we were there, I took her to the beach and told her that my dad taught me two things in life. 1.) Never bet on your favorite team. 2.) Never tell somebody you love them unless you mean it. I then went on to tell her I loved her.

My junior year came around and our relationship was at an all-time high. We saw each other every day and really enjoyed one another's company. This was a transitional period in my college life because I had just moved in with two strangers and my best friend at school. Looking back, I really left him hanging there to dry. Two strangers and I pretty much spent all my time with the girlfriend. Shocking that he's still my friend today. Anywho, college wasn't so good to the girlfriend and thoughts of transferring had occurred. Since I really liked this girl I wanted her to be happy so I encouraged her to rush a sorority. She got in, did her thing, and all seemed to be well in the world.

And then in January, something bad happened. An accident. A mistake. A slip-up. She had made-out with another guy from some pussy ass frat. I had been cheated on. Easily the worst I had ever felt. You feel like you put all this trust in a person, and just like that it can vanish. I did my best to stop talking to her, but I didn't really want to. I cared about her too much to let something like that get in the way of my feelings. Plus, I knew she felt terrible about it because she was the one who told me it happened. I never would have known. So I took that as a sign that she was truly sorry and proceeded on with the relationship a couple of weeks later.

Once again things were going really well. I think she was trying to earn my trust back, but it was still a little bit hard for me. Sometimes she went out of her way to try and make me happy, something I guess I felt I was entitled to because of what had happened. Regardless, I felt we were back to being happy. One night we split a pizza from Papa John's and I knew I had something really special. Sunday nights we watched Desperate Housewives, seriously. We ended up staying together for Maymester, a five week crash course that my school offered. Hands down the best time I had ever had with her. We watched The O.C., some lame movies, ate popcorn, skittles, starburst, milkshakes, and made Boboli pizzas. We even found time to watch The Bachelorette. And one time we got really drunk playing Candy Land. Not the manliest things to do by any stretch of the imagination, but I was happy to be with her and happy things were going well.

Senior year was here and my time in college was almost up. This was going to be a tough year for me for many reasons. I pretty much had all my core classes for my major to take. The girlfriend was going to Spain to study abroad Spring semester, and I was leaving the place that made me the happiest I had ever been. I knew going into it that things might get a little bumpy. We alternated sleepovers every night and she usually stayed by me on the weekends. Some nights we stayed in and just hung out, other nights we would go get drunk. We even woke up one night to look at the meteor shower, but never made the actual effort to get out of bed. Fall semester was over and that dreaded time was coming around. We hung out a couple of times before she left and it was pretty sad for me. I imagine for her too.

My last semester of college was probably the best time for her to go and do that. It gave me the time to hang out with my friends and gave her the opportunity to learn a little bit more about herself. We would skype and send emails to each other and it made the long distance a lot more doable, at least for me. The semester flew by and before you know it, she was back. I was happy to be able to hug and kiss her again just like I used to every day before she went away. But things felt a little bit weird once she got back. Maybe all the time made it a bit awkward. Whatever it was, it didn't "feel" the same.

The summer came, we saw each other one time. Uh oh. Something isn't right. We went from this almost unbreakable kind of bond, to an almost forgettable relationship. I wasn't even talking to her on a daily basis. Some texts and a goodnight and that was about all. We had made plans to get together that summer on a little vacation with just the two of us. We ended up going to Wildwood because it was convenient for the both of us. We stayed for 3 nights and once again enjoyed each other's company. Coloring and Poley. But it was time for her to go back to school. But this time without me.

I visited her move in weekend and made it a "surprise". However, my idea of a surprise was to hang out with my best friend from school because he was going to Turkey for almost a year and well I figured I'd be seeing more of her than him in that time frame. A mistake on my part. I should have told her I was coming and that I intended to hang out with him. My mistake. Things got progressively worse as we weren't seeing much of each other. Not since she left for Spain at least. She came to see me in October for a weekend and that was also a fantastic time. We played miniature golf and went into New York City and went to Central Park and sat on this huge rock. All the things that made us realize why we were together in the first place.

I surprised her again the following weekend, but this time I stayed with her the whole time. It was pretty great seeing her two weekends in a row, considering I hadn't seen her in about 6 weeks. So the weekend came and went and I ended up seeing her one more time about a month later. This was probably the downfall of our relationship. I wasn't happy. She wasn't happy. It seemed like we had just fallen apart. Maybe it was the lack of time together. Maybe it was a lack of interest. I don't know, but all I know is it wasn't a good time. After I had left, we continued talking for a couple of weeks and then it was over. She wasn't happy anymore. She couldn't handle the long distance. The relationship had reached its end.

I didn't quite know if things were really over or maybe if it was just a little break. But I didn't talk to her for a couple of days and then after about a week we talked again. Nothing was really resolved and so we continued talking here and there. Until in January the decision was made to just end things. Because we seemed to want different things, and the amount of times we were seeing each other wasn't sufficient. As of this posting, I haven't spoken with her in about 5 weeks. So let me just say it, because I'm pretty sure she might be reading this.

I don't hate you. I never have. I never will. I hated the situation we were in and I hate that you quit on us. I knew being long distance wasn't going to be easy, but knowing that I had you when I needed you was alright with me. I'm sorry you felt I was needy, because in fact at times I did need you and you were there, but not now. If you think this is easy on me, you're dead wrong. I thought breaking up was going to be the hardest part, but it's getting over you that I'm having trouble with. I lost my best friend. And for my sake, I know talking to you as my friend is just going to make things worse. I still can't eat a Boboli, or listen to a certain John Mayer song, or even the time with Pop-Rocks. All these memories flood me about all the great times I had with you, but never the negative ones. Because I don't think there were any. I'm sorry we couldn't make things work. I truly am. I wish I could do something to change it. But I can't. I want to wish you the best of luck and success in the Dominican Republic and I hope you find what it is that you're looking for. Today would have been three years. Instead today is just February 17, 2011.

Workout Videos Are Good For Muscles, Not For Getting Girls Excited

Most of the male population in the United States finds it necessary to have a work-out regimen. I however, am not one of those men. Simply put, I don't really care if you find my 12'' biceps unattractive or feminine. I am comfortable within my body. Realistically, would you rather I look like I do now or grow muscle from a workout I saw from videos I bought from the television? If you are a shallow piece of shit, you probably said option 2. But if you were any self-respecting human, you will take me for what I am. P90X is fucking stupid as are all workout videos.

If you do a lot of sitting around watching television, chances are you've seen infomercials for a product called P90X. What it is is a workout that you do daily and jot down your results in a nifty notebook. After how many ever days, you're supposed to see improvement or your money back, yada yada yada. I don't give a flying fuck if it makes you look like the David Statue.

Or even Arnold Schwarzenegger circa 1978 (see above). You still have to look at yourself in the mirror and say, "I'm getting ripped using a workout video. Do I have any self-respect?" No. No you do not.

If you are courting a girl and really feel like she might be something special, your best bet is to NOT tell her that you just got done doing a P90X workout. The reason being she will laugh at you and consider you a total dweeb. Plus workout videos are the personification of miserable. But let's say she doesn't know you are using said product. Is that okay? Abso-fuckin-lutely. Why do you need to go into specifics as to what kind of workout you are doing? You don't. As far as she is concerned, just tell her you got back from the gym. In all honesty, she probably won't even be able to tell the difference. It's just the principle of telling somebody that you use a workout video.

Harsh? Of course. But somebody has to teach people how to behave appropriately in a social setting. And luckily for you, you have me. The ultimate gentleman and baron of socially acceptable behavior. You never, ever, tell the person you are courting what it is you are actually doing, if it could be embarrassing. You don't tell a date that you're trimming the hedges before you pick them up, do you? Of course not, because that would be creepy and just flat-out weird. Same goes for working out. You went to the gym. You weren't in your living room doing Pilates with your roommate, or doing crunches on the giant medicine ball thing, or even doing P90X. It's that simple.

The point is, honesty is not the best policy. It is almost always better to lie in every situation. "Honey, does this make me look fat?" No. "Is there anything stuck in my teeth?" Yes. "Have you ever used P90X?" No way, Jose. This is a valuable lesson to learn in life. Because one day you are going to be in this exact scenario and you are going to have a choice. Taking the easy way out and being honest or being a real person and lying. Choose lying. I have never used nor will I ever use P90X because I'm already assured that, "I am better than you."

P.S. This is one of my favorite videos ever...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qi6oPP40hrI

***Photo courtesy of http://www.muscle-build.com/arnold-schwarzenegger.html

Nice Guys Finish Last, Even In The Bedroom

I learned a lot of things this weekend. Being nice, when it involves dating and relationships is the wrong route to go. For some reason, females tend to have a problem with guys who treat them well. Why exactly? I don't have an official answer, but one that I conjured up with the enormous brain I carry around all day long. Girls enjoy the challenge of breaking down a guy with "mysterious" qualities. He needs to have an edge, something that separates him from everyone else. If he's a dickhead, surely there is a reason as to why. But what dumbass girls don't understand is, there is NO reason, except to get in your pants.

Women, girls, or cooks/cleaners, whatever it is you refer to them as, like two types of guys. 1) A guy who treats them like shit and is a complete asshole and 2) A guy with a lot of experience, especially in the bedroom. The reason they like assholes is because they see it as a way to try and figure out why he is an asshole and try to change him. The reason they like guys with a shit ton of experience is rather obvious. Because they know what the fuck they're doing. And if you can find a guy that has both qualities, well in the world of female thinking, they just hit the fucking jackpot.

Every so many years I hear people at accredited universities and colleges run tests and do experiments and conduct research and claim that women on the average are smarter than men. I would like to meet every one of these pieces of shit and kick them all in the throat. Not only do girls have zero intelligence, they are all fucking lunatics. Every single one of them is crazy in some aspect. For Christ's sake they don't even know what they want in a man. Yeah I know, someone with money, who is tall, well-educated, handsome, and a piece of shit who treats them like the neighborhood stray. Get your heads out of your asses and open your fucking minds, you supposed smart-asses.

I have a sister. She recently met a guy who is too nice. Yes, too nice. Never in my life have I considered that to be a negative quality. But when I was told by the four other girls in the room that being too nice is a problem, I nearly had a seizure. Being with a guy who is too nice is too predictable. He always does the right thing, and good God-Almighty that is 100% unacceptable. All of them are so wrapped up in finding something that doesn't exist. Like dinosaurs. If someone opens the door for you, and pays for dinner, and walks you home, they clearly have good moral values. But if they don't return your texts, or go Dutch on dinner, and then bang you and never speak to you again, they are suddenly intriguing. Being a cook/cleaner must be the worst thing ever.

So this weekend taught me so many things. Never treat a girl with respect, because they will not find any interest in you. Make sure you bang as many things as you can because the better you are at it, the better they will like you. And never, ever let them finish first. Having sex is like running in a race. The faster you finish, the better off you are. But if you are a nice guy you will always finish last. In terms of relationships, life, and sex, it is better to always finish first. Because assholes finish first and when I do finally have sexual intercourse I will win because not only am I better than her, but "I am better than you."

Gisele Bundchen Has The Face Of A Horse. A Really Ugly Horse

Of all the fantastic models and angels that I get to see from watching the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show or stealing my mom's catalog that she gets in the mail, one angel in particular has struck me as disgusting. Some of you will know her better as Tom Brady's wife. The others will know her as the former face of Victoria's Secret. The horse in question is none other than Gisele Bundchen. Considering that I have impeccable taste in women, I decided that I will critique Mrs. Brady for the horse that she is.

Before you are outraged by such claims, why don't you google her. Look at her pictures and tell me that she doesn't look like a horse. Call me on the telephone or text me or comment or whatever you do to communicate with someone and tell me she doesn't look like a horse. That way I won't have to speak to you ever again because I know that you have a thing for horses. Aside from the stunning physique she inhibits, her face is a massacre. If I had to rate that massacre I would say it would be more violent than the Boston Massacre or the one with the farmers that I can't remember the name.

She legitimately has zero sex appeal and if she approached me at a bar and I had no idea who it (because she's an animal) was, I would scoff and make her buy me a drink. Because I'm a gentlemen for not neighing. Her face is so long and horrendous that I would consider her on par with Sarah Jessica Parker. Easily the ugliest celebrity in the history of the world. And boy oh boy is that saying a lot. I've never been more appalled by an angel in my whole life. I don't know whose weiner she put in her mouth to get that gig but it must have been the head honcho.

What upsets me most about Gisele is not that she was making $35-40 million a year, modeling or whatever it is that horses do, but the fact that she married Tom Brady. Tom Brady was America's Sweetheart circa 02 when the Patriots made that miraculous run in the playoffs and upended the Rams in the Super Bowl. He could have gotten with anyone and everyone in the A-list celebrity circuit and he settled on Gisele Bundchen all those years later? You've got to be kidding me.

I also don't know what it is with people I associate with either. I seem to be in the minority on my feelings towards this wombat, but that is because nobody has eyes that spot perfection like me. Sometimes I can look at myself in the mirror for hours on end because it truly is a reflection of perfection. God was clearly having a really good day when He created me because I've never seen anything else quite like it. I narrowly missed winning the award for Best Looking Male in 2010 by People Magazine. It's not small wonder that I sometimes see people staring at me as I walk confidently down the street or through the bars of some neighboring cities.

Regardless, if you find Gisele Bundchen attractive you need to get some medication for your affinity towards finding animals attractive, especially that of the horse. Because frankly she's disgusting and I'm glad Alessandra has taken the ball and run with it. Victoria's Secret made the best decision in their company's history when they let that washed-up Mr. Ed leave the runway and start a family with the quarterback of the Patriots. However it would have been in the best interest of Tom to pick a better model to settle down with. Doofus.

So next time you flip through your channels and you come across a Victoria's Secret commercial think of how lucky you are that you don't have to watch that mule flaunt her long, heinous face on the television anymore. Or when you sort through your mom's mail looking for the newest VS catalog and it isn't there, it's because I came and took it first, simply because "I am better than you."