How To Score On The First Date. And I Don't Mean A Basketball.

When I scour the interweb for all of my tidbits of information, I molest StumbleUpon. For those living in the Stone Age, it's an add-on for your web browser that allows you the ability to input all of your interests into a filter that searches the world wide web to match them. There's a list of probably 200 different things you can choose. So I picked whatever matched my lifestyle and read up on things that interest me. Well, I stumbled upon a website that talked about how to ensure getting laid on the first date. I think the article was written by a virgin because everything he said was inaccurate. I hold the keys to the ignition of how to get laid on a first date.

It all starts with your clothing. Girls love guys that know how to dress themselves. She won't want to filate you if all of your clothes are from Wal-Mart, Kmart, or Kohl's. She wants to see you wearing jeans that cost $148. She wants to see dress shirts that were made in the Philippines. And most importantly, she wants to see your shoes. Believe it or not, it's a real deal-breaker as to what kind of shoes you are wearing. They should probably be new, like Nike or Nike because if you wear anything else you're an idiot. And they should also match your outfit, kind of.

Now that you are going to impress her with your fashion sense, you can fuck around. Most first dates occur at fancy shmancy restaurants. Don't. Take her ass to McDonald's. Or Wendy's. Or a really shitty pizza place. They say your first meal should be hands free, but people who believe that also believe in global warming. Why are you going to risk spending a great deal of money on a girl who might not even put out? By going to a low-end, white trash establishment, you can gauge her interest and see whether or not she's a cool gal. I want to be with a girl who can wolf down a Big Mac. Not a girl that eats a salad and buttered bread for her meal. That's what would happen at that ritsy, expensive restaurant.

But we have one problem with going to McDonald's or Wendy's. They don't serve alcohol. If I ever win the lottery, or end up successful, I am going to make a personal pledge to both restaurants to include alcohol on their menu. I mean, how am I supposed to enjoy my date if I'm washing down my meal with a Root Beer? The secret ingredient to getting laid on a first date is about to be unveiled. Ready?......................Wine. Wine always leads to sex on a first date. There is some sort of component in it, maybe alcohol, that makes girls horny. And it's usually white wine. Get her fucked up on that shit, and there's no doubt you're going to Penetration City.

Well then, what's the next move? You've made your mark by showing off your ability to dress. You've tackled the big bill of the first date by splurging on McDonald's. How do we get to plan C and get to drinking the vino? Are there any parks nearby? Where 14-year-olds hang out? If yes, you need to get your ass there. Post up in your car, open the bottle of Oak Leaf, and start playing pass the bottle. You can also set the mood by playing some John Mayer to moisten her underwear. After several gulps of the wine, she will be more inclined to open up about her life, and eventually open her legs. Success!

This is the tricky part. You need to find a way to bring her back to your parents house, or hopefully she is better than you and lives in an apartment of her own. Tell her you want to take things slowly and it's better if we don't do anything tonight. Now she thinks you're a good guy. Wrong. Get her in a bed and lay down with her. Tell her you just want to make sure she falls asleep alright. Start playing with her hair. She'll start assaulting your mouth with hers. Now her underwear have been removed. You slip on a condom, but only if you're a sailor, and enter Penetration City. Finish up and leave. Never call her again. Brag to your friends about the slut you just had sex with and high five everyone involved. Take a shower. Lather, rinse, repeat. And that's how you have sex on a first date. It works, but probably not for you because "I am better than you."

Regrets. A Fun Word, But Not A Fun Thought

I bought a Limp Bizkit CD, Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water, when I was in 7th grade. I listened to it probably around 70 times. I knew all the lyrics by heart. That was one of the worst regrets I have in my entire life. Are you shocked? Something as meaningless as a CD in 7th grade as one of my biggest regrets? Well don't be because if you knew me at all, you would understand that I don't regret anything. That's not necessarily true, but there are very few things in my life that I regret. A Limp Bizkit CD is most assuredly one of them. Now let's take a look back at some of the dumber things I can be noted for.

(Keep rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin', uh)

I previously mentioned my making out with baby seals in my 'Beer Goggles' piece. However, I don't mark that or any other ill-conceived make-outs in college because they made for funny stories. All my friends know them and mock me for them on a somewhat consistent basis. Also because I keep bringing them up. I can say I have 3 real regrets in my entire life. Things that I would change if I could go back in time right now and fix them. Just 3. And now I will put them in the order of smallest-to-biggest regrets. Brace yourselves.

3. I was somewhat popular in high school. I was voted class clown and people knew me as the funny kid who never got ass. That was 5 years ago. But there was one particular moment of my lack of ass-getting that I never seemed to let slip away. I can recall distinctly that it was my sophomore year of high school. I had just finished track practice and was on my way back to the boys locker room via the gym. A girl approached me. But she wasn't just any girl. She was a smart, pretty girl. One of the prettiest girls in my grade. I should mention that at this point in time I had yet to makeout with a girl. (Or guy for you jokesters out there) She told me that she was willing to "help me out" with my problem. That was it. Nice and simple. But guess what? You know where this is going. I didn't take the offer. I still don't have a reason.

2. I brought this up earlier also in another blog post. My sophomore year of college was a swell time. No RA's. Beer whenever we could get someone to buy it for us with a fake I.D. The works. Life was pretty sweet. But it didn't start out so sweet. I was helping to move-in a former neighbor from freshman year. I was talking to her mom. She told me to take care of her and make sure nothing happens to her. I told her mom that, "No. I don't care about her. I'm just going to let her walk home alone and get raped." Her mom didn't like me much after that and heck, who could blame her. Rape is no joking matter. I guess the hint of sarcasm in my voice wasn't enough to soften the blow of telling her I didn't care if her daughter got raped. Yep, that's me.

1. I was in Kmart with my mom. She told me I could pick out one toy that I wanted. Any toy. At this point in time I was a huge geek for Inspector Gadget. It's a brilliant cartoon with some zany moments. He always fucked up. Hilarity ensued. They just so happened to have some Inspector Gadget toys. A field day for me! But which one do I pick? If you know the cartoon you should be aware that Dr. Claw never showed his face. Not once. Not ever. He was available at Kmart. It even said on the package, "See Dr. Claw's face revealed!" But not that day. I didn't choose Dr. Claw. Guess who I chose? Guess? (drum roll)............................Penny and the stupid fucking dog. It was so memorable that I can't even remember the fucking dog's name. And I literally remember everything. Everything. I chose wrong.

(The package that haunts my dreams)

There you have it. My personal regrets. I choose to not have any regrets in life because it's way too short to dwell on the shit you've done. Fuck it. It felt right at the time, didn't it? You regret it because of the outcome that came out later. But if you didn't choose "wrongly" than you would never know. It felt right at the time. Live by that and you won't give a shit about any of the rest of the dumb things you do from now until forever. Sponsored by me because, "I am better than you."

What If I Told You There Was Nothing Worse Than Hearing About Potential?

Throughout my time conquering life and becoming the greatest human to ever be conceived, I've been told a lot of things about myself. People have told me that I should be a lawyer because I have a tendency to get into arguments with people. Or a doctor because my memory is of an elite status. Or a comedian because sometimes my jokes are of the highest caliber. When realistically, I'm not Jewish, so I can't get into law. I don't have enough money to afford medical school and I probably couldn't handle all the studying. And let's be really honest. I'm not that funny. But what do all these things have in common? I could potentially have done all of them.

Potential is the most overused, overstated word in the entire English vocabulary. Everybody has the potential to do anything they want. And our stupid parents encourage such thinking by saying, "Go ahead hunny, you can be the best model in the whole world!" Your daughter has moles on her face and is about 100 lbs. overweight. She can not and will not be a model. Do not lie to her face and tell her that she is going to be a model. All our dumb parents do is give us false hope that we can do anything we set our mind to.

And these dumb ass celebrities and professional athletes who are supposed to be role models embedding into our brains that if you dream it you can achieve it. Please stop with this mumbo-jumbo bullshit. I'm at an age in my life where I realize my friends and acquaintances can do some things, but not anything. I am an exception to this because I am fully capable of all things. Like making you come back on a daily basis to continue reading this bullshit. But seriously, take a look at yourself and ask if you are doing what you intended to do in your life. Probably not.

The worst part about all of it is the phrase 'what if'. What if I was four inches taller and 50 lbs. heavier? What if Obama wasn't President? What if the Mets finally won the World Series? What if, what if , what if. But I'm not that tall or heavy. Obama is the President. The Mets will never win the World Series again. Stop living your life based on the phrase what if. It doesn't mean anything. Potential and what if go hand-in-hand because they are both bullshit. Stop being such a huge pussy and just do it. (Nike)

What if I asked that pretty girl out? She would have said no because your wearing sneakers from K-Mart and there are boogers on your WWF t-shirt. What if can relate to almost anything and everything. Yet it never seems to change, no matter the context. And stop saying that the glass is half-full. The glass is half-empty. Why the fuck would you ever say my glass is half-full of water or apple juice or some other cool drink. When you have half a tank of gas are you closer to being empty or full? Logic would tell you it's the same distance either way, but we all know it's closer to empty. So cut the crap and see things for what they really are.

I'm not a pessimist. I only see the truth in things. Like my vocabulary and grammar are in the upper echelon. And maybe I'm a little bit cynical because I know what I know better than somebody else can tell me. That's why we always choose to make our own mistakes because we want to see the outcome for ourselves. It's a mistrust of those who we do know and those that we don't. With no expectations, you could never be disappointed. However your expectations for this blog should be high because you and I both know the same thing. "I am better than you."